Chapter 8.3 - .

The Beginning of the Nightmare (2)

(Another Person’s Perspective)

At first, it seemed as though the treatment carried out by Helena, the Saint of Healing and Restoration, was progressing smoothly.

However—

“Saint Helena, we can no longer produce any more holy water.”

“…What do you mean?”

“We have exhausted the sacred power. There are no priests left who can use the power of prayer.”

To create holy water, priests who possess the power of prayer are required. And the sacred power they wield is finite. It seems that the divine power granted by the gods is not meant to be used excessively, and aside from natural recovery, there is no way to replenish it. For example, it cannot be restored through medicines such as recovery potions.

What am I supposed to do without holy water?

Even now, a long line of injured people stood waiting for holy water to arrive. Worse still, an order had come down from the nation stating that treatment of soldiers was to be prioritized. The logic was simple: to repel the flood of magic beasts and monsters, soldiers were needed, and therefore returning injured soldiers to the front lines took precedence above all else.

She understood the reasoning. That was why, even as her own magic power neared depletion, Helena continued treatment while consuming mana recovery potions specially prepared by the Saint of Alchemy. These mana recovery potions had side effects. The more one consumed them, the slower magic power would accumulate naturally. In the worst case, one could become unable to use magic at all without them. Moreover, Helena, who had always squandered her magic power freely, had absolutely no experience in treating others efficiently with the bare minimum of magic.

After all, when people saw the glittering light left behind by excess magical residue, they rejoiced. They praised her as saintly, and worshiped her as an angel.

That was why she had never learned how to manage magic properly in emergencies like this. Of course, she had never practiced either. She continued to use magic flamboyantly as always, quickly exhausted herself, relied on mana recovery potions, then used magic again. Over time, the healing magic itself began to lose its effectiveness. Because the effect weakened, she layered more magic on top of it, exhausting herself again. The cycle repeated endlessly.

I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to stop.

But the number of injuries only kept increasing. And because there was no leeway to use recovery magic, she focused on treatment alone, yet people’s natural recovery was frighteningly poor. Though their wounds closed, many complained that their condition did not improve, perhaps due to side effects. Hearing this, Helena went pale.

Excessive use of healing weakens the human body’s innate ability to recover.

Only now did she recall Angelina’s words. By relying too much on healing and recovery magic, people had become unable to heal themselves without Helena’s magic.

That can’t be true. At this rate, it will never end.

Even once treatment was complete, people would surely demand her recovery magic. And Helena would become unable to use magic without mana recovery potions. If this continued, she would eventually lose the ability to use magic altogether.

A Saint who cannot use magic is no Saint at all. I refuse that future.

As Helena was being driven into a corner, more bad news arrived: holy water could no longer be produced. And the situation worsened further. As she treated soldiers at the front lines, fighting back nausea at their grotesque wounds, a commotion erupted outside the tent. A horrifying roar tore through the silence.

“Magic beasts! They’ve reached this far already!”

Helena spun around in panic. Before her eyes, a creature resembling a wild bear bared its fangs and slashed at people with razor-sharp claws. Even after all that treatment, it would all be for nothing. Desperate, Helena shouted at a nearby priest.

“What about Lady Nanary?”

“T-The Saint of Combat was fighting on the front lines, but she sustained severe injuries and will be brought here shortly!”

“She’s useless, then. What about Lady Ilda?”

“The Saint of Blessings attempted to imbue weapons with weakening effects and holy power using the book left behind by grandmother, but she says she cannot. She keeps insisting the systems are incompatible, but…”

Weakening strips power from demonic entities, while holy power destroys them outright. These are precisely the enchantments suited for weapons used in battles against magic. Incompatible systems? That makes no sense!

“Enough already! Every single one of you is useless!”

Casting aside her mask of benevolent angelhood, Saint Helena spat venom at her fellow Saints. Her face twisted into something ugly without regard for who might see. The people around her frowned in discomfort. You’re just as useless, they thought. With treatment barely progressing, negative emotions spread through the tent.

Just then, someone rushed in from the building.

“Please wait! We’ve created an auxiliary medicine that can replace holy water!”

“Really? As expected of Lady Julianne!”

“It’s still in the prototype stage, but we don’t have time. Please use this for now.”

Julianne, the Saint of Alchemy, slammed a wooden crate filled with medicine bottles onto the floor. The bottles looked identical to those that once contained holy water. Without hesitation, Helena opened one and poured it over a soldier’s wound.

“Gyaaaaaah!”

The soldier, who should have been accustomed to pain, screamed. Why does it hurt that much? Helena stood frozen in shock as Julianne urged her on.

“Now, Lady Helena. Heal him.”

“H-Heal…”

The magic worked. The wound closed instantly, becoming clean and smooth. So it does work. But the soldier had lost consciousness from the pain. In other words, treatment required enduring unbearable agony. In the silent tent, only Julianne appeared animated.

“The experiment was a success! The key is to apply healing immediately after pouring it on, so the pain doesn’t last too long.”

“Can’t you improve it so it doesn’t hurt?”

“I tried everything, but I couldn’t eliminate the pain.”

“T-That’s awful!”

“This pain isn’t a side effect, it’s the price. A trial imposed by the gods to purge evil without using sacred power.”

Saying this as if it were perfectly reasonable, the Saint of Alchemy turned away.

“Hey, where are you going?!”

“There are other medicines I still need to make. Like those mana recovery potions piling up at your feet.”

“Tch!”

“As a fellow Saint, I’ll give you some advice. You’re already overdosing. If something happens beyond this point, I won’t take responsibility.”

With a cold glance at the empty bottles, she frowned and disappeared deeper into the temple. She had always been like this. A pure craftsman who only cared about what interested her.

“If you understand that, then help me, you useless woman!”

At some point, Helena was left alone in the tent with only the injured. Even if she wanted someone else to take over treatment, everyone had disappeared, afraid of getting involved. With no choice, Helena silently dripped the auxiliary medicine. Fainting was still manageable, but some people lashed out violently at Helena in rage, unable to endure the pain.

“Why do I have to go through this? This is insane!”

Helena clawed at her hair. It was obvious to anyone that she was breaking. Having continuously used magic, her hair had lost its luster, her skin was rough, and her jade-green eyes were dull and clouded.

And then, at last, the final moment arrived.

Empty bottles of mana recovery potions lay piled at her feet. She didn’t know how many she had consumed. Even she understood now: she could no longer generate magic power without them. With an emotionless face, she drained two more bottles in succession and placed her hand on a soldier’s wound.

“Heal…”

But not even the faintest glow of healing appeared. She tried again, whispering the words of healing, but no miracle came. It’s over. Having stood for so long, Helena collapsed to her knees.

—She could no longer use magic.

“Ahaha… ahahahaha!”

Helena laughed madly. Now that it had come to this, she would never be able to use magic again. But rather than sadness, what filled her now was relief. Relief that she no longer had to use magic.

“Stop laughing and heal them!”

“I can’t. I can’t use magic anymore. I can’t heal anyone.”

She couldn’t even mend the cracked vessel of her own magic. People who couldn’t comprehend what was happening stood dumbfounded. A Saint unable to use magic? Impossible. They assumed she was just being lazy and hurled insults at her.

“What the hell, you useless woman!”

“Incompetent!”

I can’t do it, because I can’t. Angelina used to say that too.

She never imagined she would be called incompetent and useless herself. But now, she understood just a little how Angelina must have felt.

Useless. Incompetent. No one called her a Saint anymore. They simply stared at her with disgust.

Around the same time, another upheaval was unfolding in the royal castle.

“Your Majesty Leonora, by order of the King. Please open the door!”

A violent pounding echoed against the Queen’s chamber door. Magic beasts had begun appearing at the castle gates. For now, their numbers were small enough to manage, but it was only a matter of time before things spiraled out of control.

“It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.”

Trembling, Queen Leonora hid deep inside her closet. She had gained her position as Queen solely due to her ability as the Saint of Barriers, capable of erecting protective barriers to defend the nation. In other words, her worth was equal to the worth of her barrier. If the barrier lost its value, so would she.

“It’s not my fault. This was the nation’s policy. The King decided it!”

Her bloodless lips trembled. Why was she this afraid? Because she had repeatedly explained that the barrier she maintained prevented magic beasts and monsters from invading. She had told not only her own citizens, but also neighboring nations that criticized Centrea for its insufficient anti-magic measures.

Because Saint Leonora exists, no demonic beings will attack this country.

That lie existed solely to avoid having to assist other nations. And now, if the barrier were breached, the lie would be exposed. Leonora had explained properly. Her barrier repelled malicious humans and anti-personnel weapons, but it could not stop non-human entities, magic beasts and monsters. She had explained it over and over. They were fundamentally different.

“That’s right. I’m not at fault.”

Her husband, the King, had decided it. A mere common-born Saint could not oppose the highest authority in the land. It was also the King and certain high-ranking nobles who had taken the Saint of Warding’s achievements and reassigned them to Leonora, diminishing Angelina’s value.

For the first time since the founding of the nation, magic beasts ravaged Centrea. The cause of everything was Saint Angelina’s disappearance.

I didn’t know the officials had been swayed by rumors and stopped her allowance. That’s why I’m not at fault. I’m not at fault!

“It’s the temple’s fault for not chaining up the Saint of Warding and locking her away!”

That’s right. A Saint who abandons her role instead of sacrificing herself for the nation is the strange one. She isn’t a Saint at all. As Leonora hid, the pounding on the door grew even more violent.

“The barrier has been breached. Magic beasts are pouring in. What are you doing hiding in there? You are the Saint of Barriers!”

They wanted her to fulfill her role as a Saint.
Unable to bear it, Leonora screamed.

“I am doing it! Even now, I am maintaining the barrier!”

“Then why are magic beasts invading? Doesn’t that seem strange?”

Repelling magic, driving it away. That was something only Saint Angelina could do. Among all the Saints, only she possessed that power. Leonora had merely borrowed that achievement under national policy. So she wasn’t at fault, right?

“There are things that simply can’t be done!”

Silence fell on the other side of the door, followed by a deep, disappointed sigh.

“You couldn’t even properly fulfill your queenly duties. Aside from maintaining a barrier, is there anything you are useful for?”

It was as good as calling her useless.

From outside the castle, the triumphant roar of magic beasts echoed.