“It’s a reckless plan.”
But she couldn’t just sit and do nothing, waiting to die.
The enormous steam that Caron and Chelsea were producing would seep into the clouds blanketing the sky.
When those moisture-laden masses finally released water droplets—her plan would succeed.
“But first, I have to cast the veil.”
A scientist would have scoffed. But this world had magic.
“Jeryl, the water’s boiling.”
Magic—power that transcended the limits of the impossible.
At least, that’s how Jeryl saw her own gift.
The entire capital was literally boiling.
People who had been clawing at each other’s throats in madness froze and scattered, startled by the rising steam.
The water that had flooded every street was beginning to evaporate.
“…Now it’s all up to me.”
Her hair had already turned blue. Jeryl pulled up an immense surge of power.
Sensing something wrong, Leon shouted, his voice fierce and urgent.
“Stop it! You could really die this time!”
Beside him, Caron bit down on his lip.
They all knew—each had their role to play. And this part, this one thing, only Jeryl could do.
So he couldn’t stop her.
He mustn’t stop her.
“Your Grace! Save your strength!”
The steam burst upward explosively—Caron had poured in sheer brute power.
All around, the ground cracked and boomed. Chelsea clicked her tongue.
“No wonder they call him a monster.”
“Ugh…”
Jeryl’s trembling hands quivered as she let out a painful moan.
This was a task that demanded she spread her intangible energy thin and wide—it was agony.
She could feel her life force being drained second by second.
Still, she lifted her head.
The color of the clouds deepened—a sign of coming rain.
“…Please.”
It felt like her organs floated up, then crashed back down.
Her breath hitched. Blood trickled from her lips.
Cries of alarm erupted around her—but the sounds barely reached her.
Just a little more.
Her blue eyes glowed with icy light. Blood dripped freely to the ground.
A familiar, burning warmth wrapped around her from behind.
“...Caron?”
“It’ll help.”
That wild energy coursed straight into her body, surging toward her heart.
“Caron—ugh… stop, please…”
He was sharing his life force with her. But he’d already overexerted himself creating the steam.
She slapped his shoulder weakly, but he didn’t move.
A low voice whispered against her ear.
“Consider it a debt.”
Was he saying he was repaying it—or erasing it?
Before she could ask, he stepped away.
...It’s easier to breathe now.
The steady blue aura coiled around her body.
The purifying magic swelled and rippled through the air, wrapping the group in its glow.
Chelsea, watching in a daze, murmured,
“…I can’t hear anything.”
“…”
“Your Grace, can you hear it too? The silence?”
There was no answer—but she didn’t need one.
Being a red mage herself, she knew.
You must find this silence just as maddeningly sweet as I do.
Plop.
A dark stain appeared on the gray stone beneath her.
Jeryl touched the hovering aura beside her and looked up at the sky.
Did it work?
Then—
Shaaah—
Rain began to fall.
The massive blue energy rose into the air.
Her fingers moved like a conductor leading an orchestra.
At her gesture, the intangible magic spread thinly through the clouds.
A vast veil of light covered the heavens, and as the falling raindrops passed through it, they turned blue.
Purifying rain showered down upon the capital.
“…It worked.”
The words came out faint and dazed.
Even after borrowing Caron’s strength, her body trembled uncontrollably.
Her head sagged.
“Hey!”
Leon caught her collapsing body, slapping her cheeks desperately.
“Wake up!”
“Mmm—”
“What?”
“…Stop hitting me.”
Her weak mumble made him snort out a shaky laugh.
“…I’ll let it slide since you’re the patient—ow!”
A heated hand snatched her away from him.
Leon blinked, stunned—had Duke Reffert just pushed him aside?
Jeryl, oblivious to the scene, wheezed out,
“The spots… are they gone?”
“Yes.”
You did it. His calm voice carried quiet awe.
Rain was still pouring heavily.
The blue blotches were fading.
People in the streets stood motionless under the rain, like puppets with their strings cut.
“Jeryl, it’s over now,” Chelsea said softly.
Her vision blurred.
The last thing she felt was a gentle hand—she didn’t know whose—patting her back tenderly.
Caron gazed down at the sleeping woman in his arms.
His grip around her back tightened slightly.
“Viscount Rebelin, take Rubian and go back to the ballroom. Finish off any remaining insurgents.”
“What about Jeryl?”
“I’ll guard her.”
A few hours ago, word had reached them that a hidden passage had been found in the palace walls.
He’d thought it was a childish prank—until the crown prince’s lackeys slipped through it.
Foolish… or cunning?
They likely hadn’t planned to kill everyone.
No, their goal was to let the chaos peak—and then appear as “saviors.”
All while never realizing there was a real one.
His gaze lingered on Jeryl’s pale face, on the blue raindrops trickling down her wet hair.
Did she even realize what she had just done?
“…If you’re caught, you’ll die,” she mumbled in her sleep.
Caron pressed his lips together.
She has no idea.
He began to walk again, still holding her.
At that moment, the glowing number above Jeryl’s head flickered—
The panel glitched and buzzed like a broken circuit—
It all happened in an instant.
In Caron’s arms, Jeryl stirred.
“Sleep more.”
“…Where are we?”
“Still in the palace.”
A corridor lined with red carpet stretched before them.
Caron had just touched her eyelids when urgent footsteps echoed from around the corner.
“What the hell happened here!”
“There was this strange rain—”
Caron drew his gun without hesitation and fired. The explosion roared through the narrow hall.
“Find the cause—ugh!”
The crown prince barely dodged the bullet. His face went pale.
The saint beside him drew her sword and charged.
Steel clashed against metal.
When she realized who had dared attack the prince, she froze mid-swing.
“…Duke Reffert.”
“So we meet again.”
“...Your Grace? How—”
“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, Your Highness. Why so frightened? It’s not as if you’ve been caught doing something bad.”
His words dripped with mockery, but his expression was eerily calm.
He reloaded his gun, though he didn’t fire—only because Jeryl squirmed weakly in his hold.
“…When did you even put that mask back on?”
Looking exasperated, he glanced down at her.
Caron finally released her, letting the furious woman drop to her feet like an angry cat.
I swear I’ll kill him. Protagonist or not…
“Let me borrow this.”
She snatched the silver handgun. Caron folded his arms.
A sharp crack! echoed down the hall.
“Argh!”
“What the hell!”
Jeryl had hurled the gun straight at the prince’s forehead, panting.
Caron easily subdued the charging saint and muttered under his breath,
“…I’ve been thinking—do you have some kind of grudge against people’s foreheads?”
Still fuming, Jeryl glanced around for another projectile—then froze.
The saint and the crown prince—each had their sin levels displayed above them.
Why can I see them?
She’d never been able to before.
Then she noticed the rain dripping from their hair and clothes.
…It’s the rain.
More precisely, the rain infused with her blue purification magic.
Realizing this unexpected effect, Jeryl let out a small sound of awe.
“...Ninety-nine.”
A predictably high number.
Will they die soon too?
No, she thought instinctively.
Even if their sin levels passed 100—or 1000—they wouldn’t die.
Her breath hitched as a new thought struck her.
…Then I should be able to see Caron’s sin level too.
