Saving My Sweetheart

Chapter 4

The Holy Empire was founded by the goddess Danyta, and the Eliksar was a sacred artifact containing a fragment of her soul. It was the most powerful blessing the goddess bestowed upon her chosen one and was currently in the possession of the saint Josephina.

As it contained the goddess’s soul, the power of the Eliksar was immense—it could subjugate monsters, prevent the empire from becoming a desert, and allow the user to wield magic through holy power. These abilities alone were astonishing, but that was not the end of the Eliksar’s strength.

The ring’s greatest power allowed its owner to become the master of the Nine Wings. The Nine Wings were transcendent beings able to wield the goddess’s powers. To become their master meant having the ability to control the vast empire at will, which was what Leticia’s mother did now.

“Wh-why is the Eliksar here…?”

Leticia picked up the ring with trembling fingers. Why was this precious item here, of all places? Had her mother lost it?

“That’s impossible. I saw her with it this morning…” She vividly remembered the sparkling black gem on her mother’s pale hand.

What was the meaning of this? Could it be a fake? Over generations, many of the goddess’s representatives had chosen to create false replicas to protect the real stone. Upon closer inspection, she saw that this ring was rusty, unlike her mother’s, and the black gem in the center was slightly cracked.

“Oh, it is a fake.” Leticia let out a soft sigh.

The black gem of the Eliksar served as a vessel to contain a fragment of the goddess’s soul. If there had been any issues with the stone, the priests would have gone into a frenzy. There was hardly any turmoil within the Holy Palace. The priests eagerly anticipated the chance to trample the delegation from Genos beneath their feet.

Even in the future, there was nothing about the Eliksar being damaged. She searched through her memories, her shoulders slumping as she let out a wry smile.

“Of course…”

Although impossible, a small part of her hoped this ring might be real. If it were, then she would have been able to protect Ditrian even more.

“Still… I’ll take it with me, just in case.”

She hesitated, but she eventually slipped the ring into her pocket. Perhaps it would be useful somehow. After all, it had come out of a storeroom full of sacred artifacts. She hurriedly began retracing her steps, figuring that she would find some time later to examine the ring at leisure.

A moment later, the ring began to emit a faint gleam in her pocket. It was so faint that Leticia, intent on making her way back, did not notice.

* * *

At the same time, Genos’ delegation started to unpack their bags in the palace annex. Although they were now ensconced in accommodations that possessed a roof and soft beds, the atmosphere among them was indescribably sober—Enoch was slowly dying.

“The physician will not come?”

“His Majesty did go to receive medicine, but…”

“Do you think the saint would give us proper medicine? She would rather give us poison!”

Ditrian, who had just stepped back into the annex entrance, smiled bitterly. It was exactly as his men had thought.

“Her Holiness has administered the medicine you require. It is a potent antidote that can cure any poison, so ensure your patient takes it immediately!”

The saint had indeed deigned to give him medicine—an herb called abraxa. It was a powerful antidote that could counteract any poison, just as the priest had stated, and would have been enough to cure Enoch—if he hadn’t been a youth.

Although abraxa was effective at neutralizing toxins, it was lethal to those who were not fully grown because the detoxification process destroyed all organs that were still developing. Once the poison was neutralized and Enoch regained consciousness, he would start hemorrhaging blood from all of his orifices and suffer a horrific death worse than the original poison.

If he hadn’t recognized it immediately, then Enoch would have surely died. Ditrian had momentarily stopped breathing when he saw the priest handing him abraxa.

“This… is the antidote given to me by the saint?”

“It is! Are you suspicious of the medicine Her Holiness selected for you personally?”

“No… of course not…”

Even though Ditrian had managed to stay calm, his thoughts challenged him.

If I strangle this priest standing in front of me, what will happen? What if he were to run inside the Holy Palace and slaughter the saint? I would die.

The Wings that protected her would tear his body to pieces. He wasn’t afraid for his own life. However… If I do that, any chance of saving Enoch would vanish completely.

He had to endure. Ditrian gritted his teeth, holding back the raging inferno inside him, and bowed his head.

“I am most grateful for Her Holiness’s generosity,” he had said, no hint of displeasure in his voice.

The priest scoffed, clearly unhappy that he was being so compliant, and ignored Ditrian as he walked out. Ditrian closed his eyes and kept breathing in and out, his knees bent, and his head bowed low. He could endure even greater suffering to protect his people—he could do it, no matter what. He could do it…

“Your Majesty! What happened?”

Yulken, his face anxious, came to him as soon as he re-entered the annex.

“Did the saint truly give you medicine?”

“She gave me… abraxa.”

“Abraxa?! That’s poisonous to him!” Yulken barked. His voice was trembling as if in disbelief, and his eyes were full of despair. “Then he’s truly going to—”

“It’s not over yet,” Ditrian said, his voice low but firm. “Enoch is still alive. Don’t speak of the end so hastily.”

Yulken bowed his head in sorrow.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Are all the physicians still refusing to treat him?”

“They are.”

Ditrian clenched his fists, feeling as though a sharp blade was stabbing him from the inside.

Keep it together, he told himself. You must endure.

He could not fall—if he did, it would all be over. He had to persevere, even if everyone else was in despair. The delegation’s morale hit rock bottom once word spread that the saint had given them abraxa. Everyone was disheartened, but it was Barnes who was the most distraught due to the trauma from his nephew’s death. With bloodshot eyes, he clung onto his king, begging him his permission to kill the saint.

“I shall stay behind in the empire. I will end them both—the saint and Leticia! I’ll kill them!” he roared.

“Don’t speak such nonsense. Do you forget that you have family waiting for you at home?” Ditrian reproached.

“Your Majesty!”

“I won’t allow you to die a meaningless death. Stop wasting your time on useless thoughts and focus on healing your leg.”

Barnes cried out in frustration and rage, and his companions consoled him as he wept. Ditrian’s eyes grew hard as he watched his knight’s retreating figure. Truthfully, he wanted to do precisely as Barnes suggested—run up to the saint and end everything himself.

Unfortunately, he could not because he was the king. He had to protect everything. Ditrian thought of his brother once again during this desperate situation. If his wise brother had survived and become king, wouldn’t he also have done everything he could to protect the kingdom?

He would have. He protected everyone he meant to protect.

His brother had lost his life while protecting his younger brother.

“Do you need to go to the empire? I can go instead,” Ditrian had said.

“Of course not. The saint summoned me, not you.”

“What is it that you want to protect so much?”

“There is something… something very precious.”

Ditrian recalled the last smile he’d seen on his brother’s face seven years ago. His memories shifted to his brother’s funeral. People had been whispering in front of the empty coffin.

“The saint had not summoned Prince Julius?”

“They say he sacrificed himself to save his brother.”

“Both His Majesty and Her Majesty agreed with his plan…”

“Only Prince Ditrian was unaware.”

His brother had died because of him—to protect his younger brother, he had willingly walked to his death. Before he died, his brother had sent him many letters during his visit to the empire. Through his correspondence, Ditrian learned all about the young girl his brother had met.

—The little handmaid was adorable today, as always. Although that wretched saint hit her again today…

—Do you know what she told me yesterday? She said she would repay me for my kindness someday. She was so charming when she said it. You should have seen it yourself.

Ditrian furrowed his brow.

Would she still honor her promise to my brother…? He couldn’t be sure, as their union had ended seven years ago. It was likely that she would have forgotten about her promise by now or chosen to ignore it.

Still… I need to try whatever I can. He had to try everything he could to save Enoch. Ditrian took a determined step forward and approached Yulken, who had just come out of Barnes’ room.

“Yulken, I need to locate someone.”

“I am at your command.”

“I need to find a maid my brother met seven years ago in the Holy Palace,” he said. “My brother helped her when she was being abused, and she promised him that she would repay him the favor one day. If she’s still there, then perhaps she can get an antidote for Enoch.”

“A young maid who met Prince Julius…” Yulken murmured thoughtfully. “Do you know her name, Your Majesty?”

“I don’t, although I know her age and hair color. She must be nineteen now and has bright, golden hair.”

Yulken’s face lit up.

“Blondes are quite rare in the empire, aren’t they?”

“They are, so it should narrow the search considerably. She may still be a maid, or she might have become a priestess by now. For now—”

“Your Majesty!” a frantic voice called. “Something terrible has happened!”

A priest in white robes was entering the annex—the same one who had handed the abraxa to Ditrian. He smiled arrogantly, twisting his long mustache, and his narrow eyes gleamed maliciously.

“I have come to verify the effects of the medicine. On behalf of the saint, you are to administer it to the patient before my eyes.”

* * *

The delegation’s anxiety reached a fever pitch while Ditrian conversed with the priest.

“He came to verify its effects? What kind of bullsh*t is that? Enoch will die if he takes abraxa!”

“He is trying to force His Majesty to kill Enoch with his own hands.”

“Bastards!”

Pieces of unpacked luggage were still scattered about the lobby. One individual looked even more anxious as she observed the agitated group—Leticia.