The Villainess—No, The Holy Maiden (2)

As she began gathering magic power as usual, Cordelia noticed a different flow mixed within it. Besides the familiar dark magic she knew so well, there was a presence of magic she had never felt before.

Closing her eyes to concentrate, she searched for the faint thread-like magic and began drawing it in. At first it was thin and weak like a strand of silk, but as she gathered it, it grew thicker and its presence stronger. Then suddenly she felt a dazzling brightness, like light bursting in, and she hurriedly opened her eyes.

“Kyaa!”

At once, pale white glowing magic overflowed from her hands. Before she could stop it, it poured out and was absorbed into Isaac’s arm. At the same time, his severe wound rapidly closed before their eyes.

“Amazing… it doesn’t hurt anywhere.”

Soon Isaac, now completely restored except for his torn clothes, raised his arm and murmured in admiration.

“See? You could do it.”

For some reason Fenrir lifted its head proudly as it spoke. Meanwhile, Cordelia stared at her own hands in disbelief.

“I really did it… How is this possible? I should be a pure dark mage…”

She thought it might be coincidence, but the holy magic she had used still flowed steadily within her body.

“…So the legend was true.”

Ignoring her confusion, the king—who had watched everything—stepped forward as if he had witnessed the unbelievable. Though his face and clothes were dirtied with dust, his normally calm eyes now shone with excitement.

(Wait a moment. Didn’t he just say something dramatic like ‘legend’…!?)

Cordelia frowned with a bad feeling.

She was already confused enough, and sensed things were about to become even more complicated.

Unconcerned, the king spoke while looking at her.

“As you know, holy magic and dark magic oppose each other, yet are inseparably two sides of the same coin. Thus, since ancient times, a certain legend has been told.”

He continued in a resounding voice.

“The maiden of dark magic will live her life as such if nothing occurs. But when she activates a ‘noble heart,’ she shall transform into a sacred maiden. —In other words, Cordelia, you too are a Holy Maiden.”

“…Pardon?”

Despite standing before the king, Cordelia let out a foolish sound.

(What kind of last-minute setting is this!? That wasn’t in the original, right!? And what is a noble heart!? Does punching a Sacred Beast make you noble!?)

She launched a barrage of retorts inside her mind. Cordelia wished for a world where effort was rewarded, but she had never once desired to become a Holy Maiden.

“Oh? Two Holy Maidens! This is getting interesting.”

“Lord Fenrir! Please do not treat this as entertainment!?”

Forgetting manners, she shouted at Fenrir, who laughed loudly as if it were someone else’s problem.

(Two Holy Maidens… no matter how you look at it, this will only become troublesome!)

Cordelia fumed.

The answer to what would happen with two Holy Maidens was simple: a bloody struggle over who would become queen.

Looking at history, whenever two people held the same claim to succession, even if they themselves had no intention, those around them began acting on their own.

In the Lakisen Kingdom as well, schemes would swirl around the two Holy Maidens, factions would form, and eventually the nation would split in two—or more. At worst, it could even lead to a war that burned the country to the ground.

(Ugh… we avoided immediate destruction by the Sacred Beast, but now a slow destruction awaits…)

Thinking of the new life that would begin tomorrow, Cordelia stared vacantly.

—It seemed the rose-colored happy life with Isaac was still far from reach.