Grinding.
Opening the carriage door, Furnicia slipped directly into the luxurious cabin.
After closing the door firmly, she placed her suitcase in a corner and then leaned back against the soft, comfortable sofa, slowly sitting down.
Whether it was a psychological resistance or just an illusion, as soon as she settled in, she faintly felt her head wrapped in a dull haze.
For someone with motion sickness like her, riding in a carriage—especially one with such poor shock absorption—was truly a form of extreme torture.
She lifted the lowered curtain a little, and the dazzling sunlight streamed directly into the carriage.
In the distance, within the old residential district, strands of rope stretched between buildings like spiderwebs, hanging white or tea-colored linen clothes.
Facing the sun and stirred by the summer breeze, each piece of clothing fluttered like vivid flags.
She waited quietly inside the carriage for a long time, only when the clock tower in the distance neared nine o’clock did the returning Demon Race contingent slowly begin to move.
This delay in departure was longer than any before, causing Furnicia to feel a slight sense of doubt.
Perhaps the Demons wanted to thoroughly resupply their logistics here at the last human town.
She lowered the curtain back down.
Not sure if it was an illusion, but she sensed that the Demon soldiers this morning were unusually serious, as if something had happened.
The long procession turned onto the main street of Aarani Town, stepping steadily on the stone-paved road toward the northern city gate.
Only when a light breeze lifted the hanging curtain and her gaze passed through the gap did Furnicia realize there wasn’t a single Aarani citizen standing along the entire length of the main street.
This was a stark contrast to the scene from yesterday evening when they entered the town.
Just as Furnicia was puzzled by this, a sudden burst of furious shouting came from behind her.
It was an unfamiliar male voice.
“You demons, return my Miss Saintess immediately!”
Startled, she looked toward the source of the voice, and nearby Demon soldiers frowned, speaking quietly to their comrades.
“Wasn’t the curfew this morning supposed to keep these lower beings off the streets? How did they get out to cause trouble on the main street?”
“How should I know?” another Demon soldier shrugged. “But thank goodness for the curfew, or this wouldn’t be just one or two causing trouble.”
Pray.
The two soldiers’ conversation lifted the fog of confusion in Furnicia’s mind.
She shifted her gaze backward, watching a young man being dragged away by Demon soldiers.
Closing her eyes softly, she traced a cross on her chest for the young man.
Having stayed in Saint Capital Fafniya for so long, she never realized how deeply beloved she was by her followers.
Feeling a faint touch of warmth from that, her thoughts suddenly spiraled back to the lazy and decadent lifestyle she’d led in recent years, filling her chest with an indescribable guilt.
To be honest…
She had never really done anything for the people of the Theocracy.
The only reason she agreed to become the Saintess was for the comfortable lifestyle it guaranteed.
Lowering her eyes to her chest, a soft voice slipped from Furnicia’s cherry-red lips, tinged with melancholy.
“It hurts………………”
Outside Aarani Town stretched a vast, empty wasteland.
Oddly shaped stones littered the area.
The carriage continued along a smooth road.
This area beyond Aarani Town could be considered Demon Territory, so it surprised Furnicia that such a flat, brand-new stone road had been laid here.
It must have been built by the Demons in recent years.
The sky above in mid-June was startlingly blue, and the eastern sun unleashed its scorching rays without mercy.
Under the blazing sun, dust and smoke swirled over the road.
The long-haired old horse ahead seemed to be panting heavily, struggling to pull a cart full of dry hay in this heat.
The Demon soldiers flanking the carriage were also sweating thick beads, as if every step they took drained their last ounce of strength.
Still, they did not forget to grumble about this damned weather.
Compared to the Demon soldiers trudging outside in the heat, Furnicia inside the carriage appeared peaceful and comfortable.
Due to her constitution, she was naturally less sensitive to heat.
Even if she felt hot, she could always use Magic to cool her body.
Speaking of cooling Magic, Furnicia suddenly recalled a small item in her suitcase.
She fetched the suitcase from the side and slowly rummaged through it.
With few belongings, she soon found a tiny glass bottle no bigger than her thumb, nestled in a compartment.
***
Inside the sealed bottle sat a small plant resembling a lily.
According to the Pope, this flower sealed in glass was an extremely rare Magic Flower Bouquet, growing in the Ice-cold Land that was frozen year-round.
In her role as Saintess, she had received many strange and exotic gifts over the years.
Removing the bottle’s stopper, the magical plant inside immediately seemed to come to life, releasing a rush of cold air.
The cold white vapor spilled from the bottle’s mouth, pulled downward by gravity, spreading a thick layer of white mist across the carriage floor.
The temperature inside the carriage plummeted instantly.
Within a single breath, Furnicia felt a bone-chilling cold and hastily replaced the stopper.
Though small, this thing’s cooling range was astonishingly large.
“…Hmm?”
Just as she put the item away, Furnicia noticed the Demon soldiers on either side of the carriage drawing closer.
At the same time, a hoarse male voice, tinged with a pleasant moan, reached her ears.
“Wow!!! It’s alive.”
“So cool—”
The cold air brought by the little plant soon dissipated in the scorching heat, and before long, the Demon soldiers resumed their miserable complaints.
Perhaps out of kindness, Furnicia bit her lip in hesitation but still took out the little item from her suitcase once more and opened the bottle to release the cooling air again.
How long this went on, she didn’t know—until suddenly a commotion came from ahead, and she put the plant back into the suitcase.
“Lady Ailus.”
Curious, Furnicia was just about to lift the curtain when it was pulled back by someone else first.
She stared blankly at the unfamiliar woman before her.
The woman appeared to be in her early twenties, dressed in a simple brown maid’s uniform.
Her vivid red hair was long but seldom cared for, lacking shine and dry.
“Lady Furnicia.”
Hearing the woman speak, Furnicia hastily gave a polite bow.
Judging by the reaction of the Demon soldiers, this woman must hold quite a high status, possibly even higher than Atena.