The Saintess's Heart
Rachel ran her fingers through her hair for what felt like the hundredth time, frustration creeping into her every movement. Why was this so difficult? Her reflection in the mirror looked back at her with an expression caught between excitement and nerves. She couldn't help it.
She was finally going to see Arthur after nearly a month apart.
Sure, they'd spoken through video calls, and she'd spent more than a few nights scrolling through the pictures she kept of him on her phone. But this? This was different. She would see him, hear his voice in person, feel the warmth of his presence.
She bit her lip, her face heating as an errant thought crossed her mind. 'Why am I acting like such a lovesick fool?' She scolded herself, cheeks reddening. But when it came to Arthur, she couldn't help it.
In front of him, her carefully crafted pretenses—the composed noblewoman, the calculating princess—melted away like snow in spring. The icy interior she presented to the world crumbled, leaving her heart completely unguarded.
Arthur had captured her heart too thoroughly, too perfectly. Even during the year he'd been gone, her feelings hadn't wavered for a moment. If anything, they'd only grown stronger.
Arthur was her everything, and she loved him with a depth that scared her sometimes.
A knock at her door snapped her out of her thoughts. Rachel turned just as the door creaked open, revealing a silver-haired woman who bore the same sharp, noble features as her own.
"Sister," Rachel greeted warmly, her face lighting up with a smile. This wasn't the practiced, polite smile she showed to others. This was real, genuine—reserved only for the people she truly cared about.
Kathyln returned the smile, though a faint furrow appeared between her brows as her gaze flicked to the scattered hairpins and brushes strewn across Rachel's vanity.
"Were you taking so long to get ready because of him?" Kathyln asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.
Rachel's face reddened instantly, and she spun back to her mirror in an attempt to hide it. "Of course not," she said, a little too quickly.
Kathyln raised an eyebrow, her expression softening despite herself. "You know, you're a terrible liar when it comes to him."
Rachel groaned inwardly, adjusting a strand of her golden hair. "You don't understand, Kathyln. It's been a month. A month. And—" she hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I just want to look perfect for him."
Kathyln's lips curved into a small, knowing smile as she walked over and placed a gentle hand on Rachel's shoulder. "You always look perfect to him, Rachel. Trust me, Arthur's the last person in the world who'd care about a single hair out of place."
Rachel looked up at her sister through the mirror, her expression softening. "You think so?"
Kathyln gave a slow nod, her silver hair catching the light. "I know so. Now, stop fussing and come with me. You'll see him soon enough."
Rachel smiled, a weight lifting from her chest. "Thank you, Kathyln."
"Don't mention it," Kathyln said, her tone teasing as she turned toward the door. "But for the record, I still think you're being ridiculous."
Rachel laughed softly, shaking her head as she followed her sister out. 'Ridiculous? Maybe. But for Arthur, it is worth it.'
"Also, we're heading into battle," Kathyln chided, her tone gentle but firm. "You won't exactly keep your appearance pristine while fighting an Integration-rank vampire."
Rachel shrugged, a defiant glint in her blue eyes. "I'll mostly be support anyway, or firing my bow from a safe distance," she countered.
It was true. Rachel's light magic was formidable on the battlefield as an offensive force, but its true brilliance lay in its auxiliary use. Her spells could heal wounds in moments, dispel curses, and counter the insidious effects of black mana, the dark essence that powered the vampires' night and blood magic. In a world plagued by such darkness, light magic stood as the undisputed king of all elements, and Rachel possessed the strongest affinity to it of anyone alive.
She was still growing, still honing her craft, but there was no doubt in Kathyln's mind that one day, Rachel's light magic would become a weapon of unparalleled potency against the black mana species like vampires.
Kathyln merely shook her head, though the corners of her lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "You're incorrigible," she said, though her tone lacked any real reproach. Her gaze softened as she studied her younger sister.
What Kathyln couldn't understand—what she couldn't quite come to terms with—was Arthur. Not because she disliked him as a person. No, it wasn't that simple. It was the situation he represented. Rachel, her beloved sister, wasn't the only woman in his life.
Arthur had Rachel, yes. But he also had two other women—princesses, no less. It was unprecedented, even in a world where polygamy wasn't banned. It existed, certainly, though it was a rarity in modern times. Polyandry, while technically permitted, was even less common. In most cases, such arrangements faded into obscurity, weighed down by the possessiveness and jealousy that often accompanied them.
But Arthur? Arthur was doing something extraordinary—unthinkable, even. He had won the hearts of not one, but three princesses from the seven superpowers of the world. It was something that no king, no diplomat, and no noble had managed in all of history.
The matter wasn't openly discussed among the rulers, not yet. Likely because of the sheer fervor with which the three princesses—Rachel, Cecilia, and Seraphina—had argued in Arthur's favor during his time in isolation training. They had deflected every concern, quelled every doubt, and convinced their fathers to at least delay the inevitable confrontation. But Kathyln knew. Eventually, this would come to a head. It was too volatile, too unprecedented, to remain buried.
Kathyln didn't care about the politics, though. What mattered to her was Rachel's happiness. That was all she had ever wanted—for her sister to find some measure of peace after everything she had endured.
Her eyes flicked back to Rachel, who was now adjusting the light armor she had donned, a soft hum of magic emanating from the runes etched into it. There was a calm determination in Rachel's expression, but Kathyln could see the flicker of nerves beneath it.
"Just… don't get hurt out there," Kathyln said finally, her voice quieter now. "And make sure he doesn't get hurt either."
Rachel's smile softened, her blue eyes meeting Kathyln's with quiet warmth. "I won't. And I'll keep him safe, too. You don't have to worry."
Kathyln nodded, though the weight in her chest didn't lift. There was so much she couldn't say, so much she wanted to protect Rachel from but couldn't.
Instead, she rested a hand on Rachel's shoulder briefly, a small gesture of reassurance, before turning away to prepare for what lay ahead.
The warp gate thrummed with a steady hum, its pale blue light casting eerie, rippling shadows across the room. Kathyln and Rachel stood at the forefront of the North's reinforcements, a formidable assembly of warriors preparing to teleport to Hwaeryun. The warp gate there still remained active, a fragile yet critical connection to the embattled city.
Only those above mid Integration-rank had been selected for this mission—each soldier a seasoned elite. Among them were two dozen Ascendant-rankers, their presence adding weight to the North's response. It was a display of power and intent, a declaration that the Creighton and Windward families would not falter in its commitment to the war effort.
As they prepared, a familiar figure approached. Lucifer, tall and commanding, offered Kathyln a polite bow, his demeanor composed yet carrying an edge of quiet intensity. Kathyln returned the gesture, her blue eyes appraising him with a mix of respect and scrutiny.
He had grown strong, she noted. Very strong. Her Immortal-rank senses could feel the steady hum of power within him, a presence that seemed to ripple through the air around him. Lucifer had reached high Integration-rank, a remarkable achievement on its own. But it wasn't just his rank—it was the way he wielded it. With his dual Gifts and refined combat abilities, Lucifer was already capable of standing toe-to-toe with low Ascendant-rankers and emerging victorious.
It was a staggering evaluation, yet Kathyln wasn't entirely surprised. Not in a world where Arthur Nightingale existed.
The thought brought a faint smile to her lips, though it was tinged with irony. Before Arthur's meteoric rise, Lucifer had been hailed as the brightest star of his generation, a talent so immense it eclipsed all others. Now, it was Lucifer who found himself overshadowed.
Kathyln couldn't help but reflect on the change. Arthur's feats had reshaped the very notion of genius. By the age of eighteen, he had already defeated three Ascendant-rank opponents in direct combat—a feat that should have been impossible. His first triumph, a low Ascendant-rank cultist of the Umbravale Covenant, was over a year ago. The second, a mid Ascendant-rank vampire, had sent shockwaves through the Eastern warfront. And most recently, another low Ascendant-rank vampire had fallen to his blade. All this, achieved without even reaching Ascendant-rank himself.
'If not for Arthur, Lucifer would be hailed as the future strongest in the world,' Kathyln thought. The realization carried a peculiar humor. Once, Lucifer's brilliance had cast others into shadow. Now, he stood in Arthur's.
Nearby, Rachel and Lucifer exchanged a brief glance. The moment was fleeting but heavy with unspoken tension. Kathyln didn't need her Immortal-rank perception to understand the awkwardness between them. She knew the story all too well. Lucifer had admired Rachel—perhaps even loved her—but it had never been reciprocated. Rachel's heart had always belonged to someone else, and Lucifer, despite his pride, had known it.
Kathyln studied her sister for a moment. Rachel, with her golden hair and serene expression, had a quiet glow about her that seemed to grow stronger when she was near Arthur. It wasn't just love; it was devotion, a depth of feeling that made even Kathyln marvel.
Lucifer, for all his strength, couldn't compete with that. And Kathyln suspected he had long since stopped trying. Still, the lingering tension between them remained, a remnant of what could have been, overshadowed now by the reality of what was.
Rachel turned back to the warp gate, her shoulders set with determination. Beside her, Lucifer's expression was unreadable, but Kathyln thought she caught a flicker of something—resolve, perhaps, or acceptance.
The gate began to pulse with energy, the air thick with the hum of magic. Kathyln took a steadying breath as the last preparations were made. Whatever lay ahead in Hwaeryun, she knew one thing for certain: the battle would test them all, not just in strength, but in heart.