Prince, I Don’t Want To Be Killed by You This Time! -The Poor Lady Who Was Framed by the Saint, Avoids Being Skewered the Second Time! ~ - Chapter 33

As the scene approached, the air became very bad.

In an attempt to prevent the muddy air from rushing in, they used wind magic to rid the saints and her group of dirty air while riding their horses.

The fire was finally extinguished, but white smoke was still rising from the building of the ballroom.

The majestic building was a shadow of its former self and parts of it were completely reduced to nothing but blackened skeletons. The exposed beams were soaking wet from the water used to extinguish the fire and water was dripping onto the ground.

The strong winds that had been blowing since the morning of the day had made the fire move quickly.

The Royal Guard had already arrived and elite magicians were calling in water dragons to pour large quantities of water over the still-smoldering flames.

In the murky, suffocatingly sooty air, I was stunned to find many people crying out as they discovered their relatives and friends in ruins.

(Fires like this didn’t happen the last time. That was supposed to happen at the Opera House in the Royal Capital, which we would have already prevented with a blare!)

As I rode my horse right behind the saints and guards, my head was filled with impatience and regret.

The future had changed so much that it no longer seemed within my reach.

Many people failed to escape from the packed ballroom and the damage was enormous.

Soon, a great number of bodies were laid out in front of the theater, which had burned to the ground, leaving only skeletons. Rescue efforts were still underway and it looked like a battlefield.

The Royal Guard was also involved in the rescue operation and Mac was among them.

The uniform of the Royal Guard was black. On top of that, their faces and hands were blackened with soot, so their entire bodies were black.

Mac was performing a desperate rescue with bloodshot eyes and an uncanny look on his face.

As soon as he got the limping man outside and seated him in the relief space, he dove into the rubble without a moment’s rest.

The area near the scene was in terrible condition, full of ash, mud and water, but the saint dismounted from her horse and rode straight to the still-smoking ballroom.

The saint’s white dress danced like a butterfly in the dark and noisy scene as the sun was setting.

Just above the ballroom, doctors from all over King’s Landing had rushed to the scene and were examining the many injured people outside.

The saint rushed to the injured lying on the ground, kneeled down beside them and extended her hand.

A pale yellow light flooded from her hand and wrapped around the chests of the wounded.

“The wounds and burns are healing!”

The assembled crowd shouts in amazement.

It was truly a miracle.

Countless numbers of injured people were healed by the light that the saint extended to them.

The prayers of the saint were so precious that they were almost divine.

It was like the only ray of hope at this hellish disaster site.

“Oh Saint! Thank you so much!”

A man who appeared to be the husband of a woman with a large stomach, who was now able to get up, hung on to her and thanked her.

“Saint! My husband too, please!”

“My friend’s face is burned to a crisp! This one too, please!”

Here and there, cries for the saint’s help rose up, followed by shouts of praise.

The saint moved without rest.

But the saint’s power is not inexhaustible. When the speed of healing was clearly slowing down, she whispered to me, who was standing by to protect her.

“Please share your magical power with me. I heard that you were second in your class at the Institute of Magic.”

She couldn’t remember my name, but she remembered the information that I was the runner-up.

Magic power can be turned into magic stones and passed on. But the saint and I don’t have time for that now.

She took my right hand and held it in both of hers.

“I will receive it directly. Let the magic flow into my hand, just like when you make a magic stone.”

“Direct delivery is dangerous. The two must be compatible and have the same balance of wind, fire and water.”

“As a saint, my magic covers all three elements. I will be fine.”

Indeed, that’s what I was taught at the academy.

I don’t have time to spend time arguing here. There are still many injured people in the building and in the relief space waiting to be healed by the saint.

I don’t know if I can really do it, but I know it doesn’t hurt to try.

I close my eyes and call up the magic in my body. I had practiced making magic stones many times in my classes at the academy.

I would put specific magic power into each stone, like wind for wind. I gathered up the magic of water, which I am the best at and poured it into the hands of the saint I had linked together.

“No, send all three elements at once. Water alone cannot heal.”

The saint shakes her head as if troubled. However, there was no way I could pull off such a trick, so after much trouble, I decided to call upon the power of the three elements in small increments and send them to the saint incessantly.

Switching dexterously between wind, fire and water, I pushed the magic down to the saint.

This task, which required an extremely high level of concentration amidst the fire sparks and hot winds, was extremely difficult.

“Good. That’s it. I need more.”

The saint squeezes my hand.

I want her to let go of my hand, but before I could separate from her,  I felt the magic being taken away from me, as if it was being sucked out through our joined hands.

When I open my eyes, I feel dizzy and my view tilts for a moment.

“There’s no one to take your place. The sorcerers of the Royal Guard have already used too much water magic and can no longer do what you’re doing. You are the only one who can give me the power.”

That being said, the magic in me is limited.

I can no longer feel the presence of water around me and I’m losing the power to search for it. I search for the faint remaining elements of water and pass them to the saint in turn, starting with my right hand, but I begin to feel a sense of bitterness, as if the juice has been almost completely squeezed out of me but I am still being forcefully squeezed.

Soon I begin to feel numbness in my fingertips.

It’s as if the blood flow is no longer reaching the ends of my body, as if I’m losing sensation. Despite this, only the core of my body became hotter and hotter.

(I can’t go any further. I’ve reached my limit.)

-No, maybe not.

If I push myself, I might be able to get more out of it. But if I go beyond that point, I feel an outburst of power that I can’t control.

My eyes widened.

Everything I have learned so far at the institute rushes in that split second and sets off a warning buzz in my head.

This is the “upper limit point.”

This is the upper limit of a magician’s power and if you exceed it, you will not be able to use magic for a while.

The usual line that the dean often said echoed in my mind.

The only thing you have to watch out for is the upper limit. Otherwise, your lovely souls will fly away!

When I forcefully uncoil the saint’s hand, which is still begging for magic power, I fall dizzy to the ground, my sense of equilibrium out of whack. I throw out both hands to support my upper body.

“Liesel! What’s wrong?”

It was Mac who ran up to me, pulled my arm, which was not strong enough and helped me up. A young man in the same black uniform, who appeared to be a superior officer, followed behind him. Both of them were covering their mouths and noses with cloths to prevent smoke inhalation.

“I think she inhaled some of the smoke and collapsed.”

The saint in front of me is telling a white lie for some reason.

“Saint-sama! Please, treat the wounded in the relief station!”

From the relief space, people call out for the saint. The saint looked up, fluttered the hem of her white dress and ran to the place where the wounded were lined up.

“You, your robe is all red. Where are you hurt?”

Mac’s superior asks me as I hold onto his arm and wait for the vertigo to pass. His long black hair is tied back and his muscular, well-trained physique is very much like that of a member of the Royal Guard.

“No. It’s the blood of another wounded man. I’m not injured.”

“Are you alright? I’m the captain of the Royal Guard. You must have used too much magic. Sit down and rest a little.”

Apparently, he’s a captain of the Royal Guard at such a young age. He must be very talented.

Immediately after that, a cheer went up from the relief space.

The hand of the saint emitted a dazzling yellow light that pierced the eyes again and one after another, she healed the injuries of the wounded lying on the floor.

The captain of the Royal Guard tilted his head slightly.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? The saint’s power, which had been nearly exhausted, seems to have suddenly returned to normal. It’s as if she has rapidly replenished her magic power in the past few minutes.”

Mac turned his glaring blue eyes on me in response.

“You’re an idiot, Liesel. You’ve been used for her own good.”

“Yeah, but I can’t actually do the healing arts, so ……”

It’s frustrating, but Iris is the only saint.

“So the credit goes to the Saint?”

Mac clicked his tongue.

The crown prince’s party arrived from the palace several hours after the fire was first reported and by this time the fire was completely extinguished.

The crown prince, who at first had been groggy and worried only about the saint, eventually helped drag the injured out of the building, carried water to wash the wounded and did his best to help in any way he could. I, who had managed to regain my strength, was also desperately trying to help.

The saint’s pure white dress was soon stained gray.

The pure white shawl she wore around her shoulders must have been dropped somewhere. I couldn’t find it anywhere.

Her hands, which were clutched here and there, were somehow worn out and smeared with blood.

“Iris-sama, take a break! Blood is seeping from your hand.”

The saint’s maid of honor tried desperately to stop her, but she wouldn’t interrupt the treatment.

She shook her head gently from side to side to soothe the assembled attendants and the crown prince, who was worried about her.

“The wounds on my hands are trivial compared to the wounds of those waiting for medical attention. We must help them.”

What a kind-hearted and pure saint.

Those gathered at the scene were moved to tears.

Thus, the saint continued her holy magic single-mindedly.

Unfortunately, there were many victims who drew their last breath before she arrived, but she saved more than that number of injured people, both seriously and lightly.

When she finished treating the burns on the last injured person, the area was brightly lit.

Before I knew it, dawn had broken.

We were all dirty with ashes and black all over.

But in the morning sun, only the saintly woman looked divine and white. Her golden hair shining beautifully even in the ashes, as if she were in the light.

“The light of Leia.”

I heard someone whisper.

A voice said and I turned around to see Mac staring at the saint. Is this fire beautiful? When I asked him back, he snickered.

“This is a beautiful story. It’s too good to be true.”

“This is a fire that really shouldn’t have happened.”

“Yeah. But still, it happened. It’s funny, isn’t it?”

We exchanged glances from both sides. Our shifting eyes told each other in no uncertain terms that we had each come up with a certain possibility.“Perhaps, this is…. Did someone intentionally cause this? No way, someone set the fire?”

Mac muttered, his voice tinged with anger.

“We’re the Royal Guard and we’re going to find out what’s going on. Now let’s see who benefited from this fire.”

No way.

But now I knew in my bones how evil the saint was this time.

The crown prince takes the hand of the saint as they make their way, crackling through the debris and burnt wood scraps that lie on the ground.

“You have saved us all. Now let us return to the palace. –You are the light of Leia. No, you are my light.”

“Your Highness.”

Smiling softly, the saint collapsed. The crown prince held her slender body and supported her desperately.

“Take the saints to her carriage at once!”

At the crown prince’s command, attendants quickly rush to the scene and helped him carry the saint to the carriage.

The carriage carrying the saint left the scene as the assembled people looked on anxiously at the saint who had worked so hard to save the injured until she collapsed.

Upon returning to the royal palace, the saint was received with great fanfare.

The king, limping on a crippled leg and with a cane, hurried past the royal palace.

The king took the trouble to wait for the carriage and opened the door as soon as it stopped.

The door was opened and the saint fell to her knees as the king stepped out, holding on to her outstretched hand.

The king was puzzled and the saint crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Your Majesty, please forgive me.”

“Dear Saint, What on earth do you want me to forgive? You have won the admiration of all.”

The saint, kneeling beside the carriage, shook her head at the king.

“No, I have forgotten that I’m here to heal the wounds of the greatest man in all of Leia.”

In the quiet, unintelligible square in front of the royal palace, the saint reached out her hand to the king’s knee.

–I knew how it went from here.

The saint would heal the king’s knee.

In this way, she would also take the king captive.