Before the age of seven, her life was carefree.
Her family was destroyed, and she was kidnapped by a servant who harbored a grudge.
From then on, she drifted from place to place, personally experiencing that cruel and cold world at the bottom.
Uncle Robert rescued her, becoming the pillar of her soul once again.
Until she was eleven, that pillar shattered in an ordinary, mundane way.
It happened when Uncle Robert was bragging to her after drinking, talking about his childhood spent under a relative in the Crusaders, earning military merit.
Speaking of the hardships of those years, he stared at her and said drunkenly:
“Even though Uncle Rick treated me as his own, he still had two sons. It’s just like how you’re staying at my house. Maybe you’ll jokingly call me ‘father,’ but deep down, can you really treat me as your biological father like Xiuya and the others do?”
She remembered wanting to act spoiled in that moment and blurt out: “I can~”
But before she could open her mouth, Uncle Robert had already given her another answer.
“You can’t, right?” After speaking, he downed the wine in his glass and continued to mumble drunkenly, “It’s different after all… Staying in someone else’s house is just different…”
Holding the wine bottle, she froze.
A massive wave of terror suddenly enveloped her, as if her first home had shattered and her second “father” had shattered too.
Everything warm and gentle around her was suddenly dyed with a color of estrangement.
Later, she learned that this was called growing up.
‘I also want a “home” of my own.’
That stubborn and determined thought was suddenly etched into her mind from that moment on.
She constantly looked for suitable candidates among noble men of her age, only to be repeatedly disappointed by them, until she happened to hear: the Hero of this generation had awakened.
From a commoner background, powerful, simple, and easy to control.
A perfect “tool” for building a family.
To obtain this opportunity, she did not hesitate to argue with Uncle Robert.
Finally, through persistent persuasion and a fit of pique, she won the qualification to join the Hero’s party.
The Hero was more outstanding than noble men of the same age, but at the same time, he was more naive, like a child.
Yet, it was precisely such a child who never fell into the Honey Trap she had carefully woven.
Before, she had always felt it was just bad luck, that she couldn’t even handle a fool.
But at this moment, she suddenly understood.
It turned out that from beginning to end, she was the fool.
What she could control in the past were only those who coveted her beauty and body, but that wasn’t love at all; it was just desire.
Love required an exchange of hearts, and she had never had a heart.
How could gaudy tricks seduce someone whose lack of desire made him unyielding?
It was laughable that after all her scheming, in the end, even her most confident Honey Trap was only a half-baked effort.
The Hero was a good person, an absolutely good person, but even such a good person had ultimately abandoned her.
Had she really done so many things wrong? But clearly, everything was for the sake of being a good Saintess.
Clearly, she was just “pretending to be kind.”
Was it possible… that hypocritical kindness itself was a form of evil, an evil hidden beneath a mask?
Yuna was suddenly very tired, so tired she just wanted to have a good sleep.
How she wished this frantic life was really just a dream! After waking up, she could still curl up in her father’s arms and hear her mother’s humming.
“Drip, drop…”
It was the sound of blood flowing, and also the sound of rain falling.
Yuna actually did have a “dream.”
She “dreamt” that John had returned.
Those rough fingers pressed against her shoulder, and a surge of warm magic was channeled in, engaging in a fierce struggle against that strange blue magic that even Divine Arts found difficult to dispel.
It was a hard-fought battle, but the Hero’s magic grew stronger as it fought, eventually expelling all of that eerie blue magic.
Her blood was no longer being forced out, and the remaining Divine Arts began to take effect, repairing the wounds where her internal organs and chest had been sliced open.
Her body gradually regained its warmth.
It felt like she was truly lying under the covers, and also like she was truly curled up in her father’s arms.
‘It seems… it’s not a dream?’
She desperately tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt like they were pinned by wooden stakes or pulled by iron chains.
Even though she used all her strength, she could only squint through a tiny slit, barely seeing John’s blurred figure.
“Don’t misunderstand. I just don’t want Io to be hunted down by the Church because you died. She can still save many people, people you could never save in your entire lifetime.”
John’s voice seemed to drift in from a distant land.
‘He’s lying.’
An indescribable and complex joy suddenly rose in Yuna’s heart.
John had never been able to hide his emotions.
She knew that even at this point, John was still pitying her, pitying her just as he pitied others.
She suddenly wanted to laugh—a mix of mockery and playfulness, laughing at herself and at the gods.
Having served the Goddess for over ten years, did she not know whether the Goddess loved the people of the world?
She had thought it was just a slogan.
A slogan used to deceive fools, hotheads, and ignorant commoners.
“Loving the people of the world” was for the sake of progress.
But only today did she finally understand.
A god cannot love the people, because a god is just a god—lofty, looking down upon all living beings, formless and substance-less, without desire or demand.
The ones who truly should “love the people of the world” were those like them, who prayed for the Goddess’s power.
It was wrong.
All of it was wrong.
John was the Goddess’s true believer, perhaps the only one, because only John was truly working hard to love everyone.
That broad figure in the night healed her and then left without looking back.
The love was real, and the disgust was also real.
This was the broad-minded yet majestic “kind father” who was unwilling to pretend, yet reluctant to abandon.
Watching that gradually receding back, Yuna wanted to crawl up, wanted to call out to him, wanted to chase after him, but she had no strength left in her body.
She lifted herself a few inches, only to collapse back down dejectedly.
Her purple-blue lips quivered, and in the end, she only murmured wordlessly and in vain:
‘I’m sorry…’
‘Wuu, I’m sorry…’
—
By the riverbank.
A lone swan crossed the river’s surface, hurriedly searching for a place to shelter from the rain.
Leah saw John returning and waved at him happily, hopping around.
“Friend! Friend! You’re back! Is the Saintess healed?”
John was startled and rubbed the tip of his nose in embarrassment.
“How did you know I…”
“After all, she’s an old acquaintance. Your heart is the softest. Besides, that blue-haired person also said they didn’t intend to take her life. If the victim has no objections, we’ll naturally just follow our hearts~”
John took a step and boarded the canopy boat.
He picked up Leah and placed her back on his shoulder.
Leaning against the railing, the river surface was like ink.
“But I suddenly regret it a little,” John murmured to himself.
“Because of her inaction, who knows how many commoners died for nothing.”
“Hey! Friend! Don’t think like that. After all, even if you killed them and replaced them with a new group, they would be just as inactive. This matter is also recorded on page 134 of the ‘Demon King’s Joke Collection’.”
Leah whistled and joked humorously.
“I hope she can reflect on herself.”
John silently took the Holy Sword from his back.
The blade was still covered in rust, but some of the red rust had been rubbed away during use, and it had begun to shine.
He stared at the rust spots, his expression gradually becoming serious, and his tone was much more resolute than before.
“If she still doesn’t reflect… then this life that I personally saved, I will personally take away again.”
“Yes! Friend! That’s the spirit! What’s a Saintess! What’s a dog emperor! The throne is taken in turns! It’ll be my turn sooner or later! Our John can be an emperor too!”
Leah continued to incite the Hero to rebel.
“Stop it, Lili.”
John rubbed Leah’s small head helplessly.
“War kills many people.”
He gazed at the bright moon rising in the inky sky and murmured softly, “Besides, I don’t want to be an emperor. The rise and fall of the whole world resting on one person’s shoulders… that’s too terrifying.”
“With every command, someone will benefit, and someone will die because of it… I don’t know how to face those who fall into hell because of me.”
“If you don’t want to be an emperor, then what is the future John envisions?” Leah asked curiously.
“Me?”
John fell silent and thought for a while, then suddenly laughed in embarrassment:
“I only hope to be a well-loved lord, like Duke Constantine. As far as the eye can see, commoners can live and work in peace, nobles take the responsibilities they should, never oppressing the commoners, officials love the people like their own children, merchants don’t cheat, and when winter comes, no one will starve or freeze to death anymore…”
“Wow, except for the last sentence, it’s all so hard.”
Leah smacked her lips.
“However, not starving or freezing to death in winter is actually quite simple. Friend, as long as you promise Lili one thing, Lili will help you do it.”
“What?”
John smiled, not taking Leah’s words to heart.
After all… no one starving or freezing to death in winter was too much like a dream.
Even in the Tulip Territory, where the Duke worked so hard to govern, they couldn’t achieve that level.
“Lili wants Friend to help Lili with a favor!”
Leah took out a crude and abstract map she had drawn and handed it to John.
“The day after tomorrow is Duke Zyra’s eightieth birthday. Lili wants to pretend to be Demon King Ria again with Friend, go there, and give them a super surprise gift!”
“What is it?”
“A Demon King’s army,” Leah said.