If the Demon Race and the Human Race were only different because of regional and national boundaries, Mowan would not be so panicked.
The fear of having her true identity discovered by the Saintess.
It was because Mowan’s human form was a disguise.
There was a genetic difference between the Demon Race and the Human Race.
A Demon’s true form would reveal horns on their head and a tail behind them, and their ears were pointed.
Some powerful members of the Demon Race would even grow wings, allowing them to soar through the sky.
Mowan, of course, was not that powerful yet.
Like most of the Demon Race, she only had horns, a tail, and pointed ears, but these demonic features were hidden by her Transformation Art.
It was not a mere illusion, but a means of using magic to change her own structure, making her look identical to a human.
However, her own genes would not change because of it.
This was exactly what Mowan was worried about.
Would her true form be seen through by the Saintess?
As the ultimate trump card of humanity against the Demon Race, the Saintess must possess the keen insight to distinguish between demons and humans, right?
If the Saintess discovered her true identity, it wasn’t just her own life at stake; her five teammates would likely be implicated.
In a serious case, they might even be suspected of the capital crime of treason.
It’s over, it’s all over!
She is still looking at me.
Until everyone finished their oath, Mowan kept her eyes closed, waiting in self-abandonment for the impending judgment.
“Saintess! Saintess!”
Suddenly, a startled cry broke the brief silence that followed the end of the oath.
The Saintess’s gaze finally shifted away from Mowan and toward the main entrance.
Mowan opened her eyes and looked along with the curious eyes of the crowd.
A woman dressed in a maid’s uniform was running into the hall of The Church with a blonde girl on her back.
“Saintess, please save the Princess!”
The maid’s eyes were filled with tears, while the blonde girl on her back was pale, looking like a poor soul on the brink of death.
The investiture ceremony was interrupted by this sudden accident.
The Saintess stepped down from the podium and gestured for the maid to place the Princess on a seat at the side of the hall.
“Why is she like this?”
“The Princess… she secretly ran off again to the forest where monsters often appear. She was wounded by a monster while fighting it. We thought we could leave safely after killing that monster, but when we returned to the Holy City, the Princess suddenly fainted. I think… the monster’s claws must have been poisonous. Her Highness has been poisoned by a monster.”
With that, the maid pulled back the blonde girl’s sleeve.
In contrast to the girl’s fair lower arm, her upper arm was almost entirely black, looking as if it were about to undergo necrosis.
In the middle of the upper arm was a deep purple scratch.
The wound did not leak bright red blood, but rather a pitch-black, thick fluid.
The Saintess reached out and gently stroked the blonde girl’s forehead, her expression remaining calm and unperturbed.
Seeing this.
Rosa nudged Mowan’s arm and whispered to her in a faint voice.
“Hey, Mowan, aren’t you the best at this?”
Mowan pursed her lips.
The injury the blonde girl suffered appeared to be poison from the monster Labit.
The Labit was a magical creation of the Demon Race, a biological weapon created a long, long time ago.
As time passed, more and more of these magical creations escaped into the wild to breed and survive.
The poison inflicted by such a monster was naturally a type of Demon Race magic.
As the Demon Princess, Mowan could naturally heal it with ease.
“Go help her.”
Rosa pushed Mowan’s shoulder.
Mowan’s body froze in place.
She hadn’t sworn loyalty to The Church just now; perhaps the Saintess had already seen that she was part of the Demon Race.
If she took the initiative to offer treatment for the Princess, how could the Saintess possibly trust her?
She might even think Mowan was an assassin sent by the Demon Race.
The Saintess turned her head, her gaze fixing directly on Mowan.
After a moment of staring.
The Saintess rose and walked toward Mowan, stopping in front of her. Her voice was clear and tranquil.
“I need a professional assistant right now.”
Then she glanced back at the maid guarding the blonde girl.
“Miss Beti, please transfer the Princess to the lounge.”
“Yes.”
The maid picked up the Princess again and headed toward the inner part of The Church.
The Saintess faced Mowan again.
“You will help me, won’t you?”
Even though it was phrased as a request, hearing that airy tone made Mowan feel a sense of pressure, as if she were being commanded.
Mowan nodded blankly.
If she could help heal the Princess’s injury, perhaps she would have a chance to plead for her teammates, asking the Saintess to let them go.
Her teammates knew nothing about her identity; they were innocent.
Having obtained Mowan’s consent, the Saintess finally turned and began walking toward the inner part of The Church.
At the same time, she looked at the many nuns in the hall who were witnessing the investiture ceremony.
“Hilaiya, report to the Pope that an accident occurred at the site of the investiture ceremony. Ask him to come out and continue presiding over the ritual.”
“Yes, Saintess.”
Mowan followed behind the Saintess, her heart thumping.
Why did she get the feeling that the boss here was the Saintess rather than the Pope?
***
She followed the Saintess to the lounge.
The blonde Human Race princess had already been placed on a comfortable resting bed.
The Saintess bowed her head slightly toward Mowan.
This time her tone was a bit more sincere, lacking the pressure she had displayed in front of everyone.
“I believe in your kindness. This has nothing to do with Visa, nothing to do with faith, and nothing to do with the Chief God. I ask you to lend a helping hand to this poor girl and save her from her pain. In the name of Iserin, I will offer you my heartfelt gratitude.”
Mowan nodded.
“I will do my best to heal the Princess, Saintess.”
She must have seen through my identity, but she didn’t expose me. Instead, she gave me a chance for redemption in a different way.
Mowan believed the Saintess also possessed the ability to heal the princess.
All of this was within the Saintess’s control; none of her movements could escape the Saintess’s keen eyes.
If she dared to harbor ill intentions toward the Princess, her end in the next second would undoubtedly be to vanish into ash.
Handing over an important figure like the Princess to someone from the Demon Race was clearly an attempt to exchange the Saintess’s complete trust for her complete kindness.
Mowan sat down beside the Princess.
She reached out both hands and aimed them at the wound on the Princess’s shoulder.
Emerald light particles emerged from her palms, gathering into a small magic circle.
A green flow of light, resembling an aurora, seeped into the pitch-black wound on the Princess’s arm.
As the magic power contacted the toxin, it broke down the black poison bit by bit.
As time passed, the Princess’s arm gradually regained its flesh color.
But because the toxin had spread deep into her body, Mowan needed more time to dissolve the poison within the Princess.
Perhaps she was too nervous, or perhaps she had grown weary from casting magic for a long time, but a thin layer of hot sweat broke out on Mowan’s forehead.
Suddenly, a fresh fragrance wafted toward her.
The Saintess used a handkerchief to gently wipe the beads of sweat from Mowan’s forehead.
“Thank you, Saintess.”
Mowan thanked the Saintess constrainedly.
She hadn’t expected the Saintess to be more human than she had imagined.
Mowan’s mood relaxed considerably.