### Chapter Two: Saint Margaret
“Pe…ilo…”
Who else is calling me…
“Peilo… Sister…”
A little girl’s voice… Who is it… Is it Iliush…?
“Peilo Sister!”
I slowly open my eyes.
The scene before me is hazy, and before I can figure out where I am, my entire field of vision is overtaken by a cute, slightly chubby little face. The face is way too close, and as I finally see her clearly, she’s blinking her bright, clear eyes right at me.
After a moment of confusion, I recognize that face.
“Ai…li…”
I whisper her name, managing a thin smile at the corner of my mouth.
“You’re okay… that’s great…”
Her voice is cool and soft, with a lazy rasp that feels as though it could dry up like the last drop of water in the desert, scaring Aili so much she jumps, her eyes going even wider.
“Sister, you’re awake! That’s awesome! Are you okay? Is there anything wrong… Ah, but I’m fine!”
She’s holding a wet handkerchief, and there’s a wooden basin of water at the bedside. At this point, she’s flailing around in a panic, and after a moment, she throws the handkerchief into the basin. “Wait here! I’ll go get someone!”
With that, she runs off with a loud thud, only to trip at the door and fall flat on her face, but she’s back on her feet in no time and zooms out.
Aili is okay, thank goodness…
If she’s here, then that means… everything has ended, right? Teresa should be dead… I wonder if everyone in the Royal City is okay…
And Victoria… I wanted to eat her in the end… thank goodness I fainted… she should be okay…
My head is so muddled.
I just… had a dream…
Where am I…
The sound of Aili’s footsteps fades away, and I start to survey the room.
The sunlight is a bit glaring.
The room is decorated in a magnificent gray-gold tone, with an elegant round chandelier overhead, its light fixtures carved into lifelike human figures. On the wall opposite me is an oil painting of little figures kneeling and praying sincerely before a glowing giant… Hmm, this should be a place belonging to the Church.
And I’m lying on a big gray bed in the center of the room.
My body feels a bit stiff, and my head is all foggy.
“Cough cough.”
I clear my throat and try moving my mouth and tongue: “Uh—, Woo—, Ah—”
I make some meaningless sounds to ease the stiffness in my mouth and face.
“One two three… One two three four five six seven… Carlos is a stinky fart.”
Well, my tongue is starting to wake up.
Next, I need to move my hands and kick my legs… My arms and legs are pretty stiff, and there’s a bit of numbness, but my strength is still there.
I must have been lying here for quite a while.
I’m not hungry, just a bit thirsty… and really need to pee.
Especially bad.
After taking a moment and waiting for my body to loosen up, I lift the fluffy blanket and slowly sit up.
I’m still wearing the tattered and bloodstained black dress, so I grab the collar and sniff… it’s a bit smelly.
I grossed myself out, quickly swinging my pale legs out of bed. But after that big movement, a sharp pain shoots through every part of my skirt.
“Gah—”
I s*ck in a breath.
It feels like a fabric is glued to my thighs and buttocks and then ripped away suddenly— so painful. I can’t help but reach down to touch under my skirt… Oh my, the lining is as stiff as cardboard, with sharp corners, frozen in place.
The pain makes me freeze in the position of reaching my feet out toward the floor. Only when the pain starts to dissipate do I carefully get out of bed, awkwardly waddling toward the door like a duck—only to nearly crash into a woman who just walked in.
Who is she…
My feet instinctively take a step back, and I frown at the nun blocking the doorway.
She has a delicate face, rosy lips, and looks to be around twenty-five. The slightly upturned corners of her eyes flow like water, sharp and clear, with light blue hair faintly curling under her veil— a very beautiful nun. But for some reason, her somewhat flirtatious look gives me this uncanny impression.
She seems strong…
With this realization, I subconsciously become alert.
I’ve completely lost any fondness for nuns; thinking of Teresa’s face makes me wary.
I really don’t want to remember that face.
“You’re awake?”
The nun looks at me and asks, her voice sounding familiar.
“Who are you…?”
“Margaret.”
Margaret?
That name sounds really familiar…
“I was the one who brought you, unconscious, out of the woods— along with Queen Elizabeth.”
“Ah!”
It hit me.
She’s the last voice I heard… Margaret… Isn’t that the name of the current saint?
My heart races.
I realize…
Even though I don’t understand why she suddenly showed up, since she appeared in that forest, it means… she likely saw…
I lower my head, fingers entwined behind my back, my toes tapping nervously against the ground as I quietly ask, “What about Victoria…?”
I admit, at this moment, I’m scared and frantic.
“Don’t worry, she’s fine.”
With a sharp ‘click,’
The saint named Margaret shuts the door behind her and takes a couple of steps closer to me.
I’m even more scared now, my stubborn heart thudding like a drum. I lift my chin and try to remain steady, focusing on her beautiful eyes.
“What do you want?”
“Just came to check on you, Miss Silvya… or should I call you the White Night Abyss?”
Her words feel like a bucket of ice water dumped over me, and I back away, glancing toward the half-open window.
Margaret doesn’t budge.
She simply stands her ground, calmly observing my actions, then speaks again: “About your situation, the Pope has already told me.”
I halt in my tracks, turning in shock.
“You know…”
“First off, I must clarify. I’m merely following his orders; it’s my responsibility as the 89th saint of the Holy Church. However… that doesn’t mean I agree with his views. Do you understand, Miss Silvya? I believe you are a dangerous existence…”
My eyes widen.
“I would never—”
“You don’t need to deny it or rush to explain; that won’t help.” Margaret interrupts, shaking her head. “Your danger isn’t about your own will, but stems from the Abyss inside you— that terrifying Chaotic Power. It has the potential to destroy everything… I know it’s unstable and could bring great disasters to humanity in the future, whether you agree or not… That night in the forest, I believe you understand the situation better than I do, right?”
“…”
I grit my teeth but have no words to counter.
Then she adds, “Actually, when you were unconscious, I considered killing you… but I hesitated. To be honest, I’m unsure if directly killing you would lead to an even greater disaster for us; that’s all.”
“Miss Silvya, you are an unknown factor. I believe your existence poses more harm than good for humanity, that is my perspective. If you ultimately harm humanity, then before that happens, I will spare no effort, even if it means sacrificing myself, to ensure your destruction first.”
“Are you saying… you want me dead now…?”
“No.”
Margaret shakes her head, adopting a serious tone.
“Miss Silvya, I just want to ask you, even so…”
She straightens, bends her right knee to the ground, then stands upright with her hands clasped before her chest— a gesture of the highest respect from the Holy Church.
“Even if there are others among us who share my view… will you still protect us small ones, just as you would protect the Royal City?”
Looking at the saint kneeling with sincerity before me, my tensed shoulders relax, and my gaze softens.
She’s straightforward, either not understanding or simply dismissive of all the roundabout nonsense.
I don’t dislike this kind of person.
“…Mm.”
I nod gently in response.
“Well then, Miss Silvya, please make sure to keep your promise and don’t harm us… I beg you.”
“Mm.”
Margaret lifts her head, a smile blooming on her face.
She looks especially beautiful when she smiles.
“Miss Silvya, I’ve already sent someone for clean clothes. Is there anything else you need?”
I glance around, feeling a bit shy as I touch my cheek.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
