Chapter 35
Wakako’s heart pounded violently, each beat sending a dull, relentless ache through her body, a torment as agonizing as being cut to pieces.
After a long silence, she said, “Five years ago, it was God who forbade us from running away together, wasn’t it?”
She should have realized it sooner. How could God allow the Saint to be with a lowly servant? But she didn’t understand why God didn’t just kill her and be done with it, instead of punishing the Saint over and over again.
A cold hand covered Wakako’s mouth. “Don’t say anymore.”
It was forbidden for mortals to speak of God so carelessly, much less harbor resentment towards them. Saying such things could bring down even greater divine punishment, perhaps even death.
“It’s in the past. Don’t mention it again.” Close up, Wakako could see the unnatural flush on Miki’s face and the forced smile. “Everything that’s happened, I chose myself. I’ll bear whatever comes of it. It has nothing to do with you.”
“How can it have nothing to do with me?”
“Are you disobeying me now?”
It was always like this.
Even though she was holding the Saint in her arms, Wakako felt like the one being protected.
She had never questioned why someone like her, a rebellious and disobedient servant, was still alive and hadn’t been abandoned by God.
Because a white crane had long spread its wings, silently taking everything upon herself.
Miki’s tone remained light. “God’s punishment for me is, at most, some pain and illness. It’s alright, I’m used to it.”
“…Why?”
Why would she rather be misunderstood than share the burden? Why, knowing that Wakako was a fool who would willingly sacrifice her life for her master, wouldn’t she let her share the pain?
…
Wakako remembered the year Miki had punished the musician. It took three months for the Saint to fully recover, and around the same time, the wounds on Wakako’s back and legs had also healed.
She hadn’t even had a chance to check on her master’s condition when Miki grabbed her hand and sat her down on the bed, insisting that she take off her clothes.
“Huh?” Wakako was a little embarrassed, but she still did as she was told. “Why do I need to take off my clothes…?”
Miki traced the lingering scars with her fingers. They had faded to faint marks, “Does it still hurt?”
“It hasn’t hurt for a long time.”
“Then when will these marks disappear?”
“I don’t know,” Wakako scratched her head. “Maybe they’ll leave scars.”
“No,” Miki said, “I’ll have someone bring you the best medicine.”
Wakako was startled. “That won’t do! Those medicines are for you.”
“There’s plenty more in the storeroom.”
“But still…”
“I’m not asking for your opinion.” Hearing this, Wakako could sense Miki’s anger, but she couldn’t understand why. “Promise me you’ll apply the medicine regularly.”
Wakako had no choice but to agree.
She felt incredibly ashamed to use the Saionji clan’s best medicine, but in the end, not a single mark remained. Every injured area was as smooth as new.
Afterward, Miki would often run her fingers over Wakako’s newly healed skin, looking visibly satisfied.
…
“Because I promised that I wouldn’t let anyone else punish you again.”
Because Wakako belonged only to her. No one else was allowed to touch her, much less leave any marks on her body. So no matter how painful the divine punishments were, Miki would bear them all alone.
Even if it meant abandoning her pride as the Saint.
Miki’s illness lingered for two whole days. The high fever persisted, receding and then returning, no matter how diligently Wakako wiped her down with water-soaked leaves.
Wakako almost considered taking her down the mountain to seek a doctor, but the Saint simply held onto her sleeve.
“No need,” she said with a soft smile. “I’ll be better in another day.”
After all, He only wanted the Saint to admit her fault—not to take her life.
Wakako tightened the cloak around Miki. “What can I do to make you feel better?”
For the first time, she regretted not having learned medicine alongside all the other things she had studied for Miki. Even if she could alleviate her pain by a fraction, it would be worth it.
Suddenly, Miki spoke with a childlike tone, “I want to swing on a swing.”
She tugged at Wakako’s sleeve. “There are so many tall trees here. Make one for me, let me play, okay?”
How could Wakako refuse?
She found a stone and sharpened her knife, cutting down some vines and securing them tightly to a nearby tree. Before long, the swing was ready.
Wakako carefully helped Miki onto the swing.
There wasn’t much to eat on the mountain—only wild vegetables and fruits. And with Miki still unwell, she had barely eaten anything. The sharp lines of her jaw had become even more pronounced.
The weather had warmed slightly today, no longer as biting cold.
Wakako gently pushed Miki from behind, setting the swing in motion with minimal effort.
Back and forth, the Saint’s black hair danced in the air, occasionally brushing past Wakako’s face, carrying a faint floral fragrance.
On the mountain, there were some herbs that could be ground into a paste to cleanse the hair, and Miki had insisted on mixing in flower extracts so that she would always smell pleasant.
Although there was no trace of the Saint’s usual elegance here, she still held onto her small comforts.
The wind from the swinging motion caressed Miki’s cheeks, smoothing out the weariness in her eyes. She turned her head to look at Wakako and smiled warmly. “I really like it here.”
“Why?” Wakako asked. After the floods, even the most beautiful scenery couldn’t survive. Though this spot had been spared the worst of the destruction due to its elevation, it could hardly be called lovely.
Miki’s answer was simple, “Because it’s just the two of us here.”
Wakako’s hand paused momentarily, disrupting the rhythm of the swing.
“I like it too,” she answered softly.
It had been five years since she became a mercenary. Missions came one after another, with countless tasks to complete each day. Wakako rarely slowed down, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt so completely relaxed.
“Back when we used to swing, we’d always play house afterward,” Miki said, her gaze lifting to the sky as if searching for something beyond it. “It’s been so long. Will you play with me again?”
The Saint had never had any friends growing up.
Although there were many young ladies and young masters in the Saionji household, their social standing was vastly different from hers. They had to bow to her whenever they saw her, and any misstep could lead to trouble. Who would willingly go through such lengths to befriend her?
Wakako, despite being an orphan, had spent years navigating the streets and interacting with many children her age. She knew all the games they played.
She had always felt ashamed and unworthy in front of the Saint, but in that small thing—playing house—she knew something that Miki didn’t.
At that moment, a feeling she had never experienced before filled her heart. The thirteen-year-old Wakako confidently declared that she would teach Miki how to play house.
But that was thirteen years ago. Now she was twenty-three. If it were anyone else, playing such games at this age would likely be met with frowns and accusations of childishness.
But Wakako simply said, “Okay. How do you want to play?”
Miki got off the swing. She was so weak from her illness that she had to grip the vines for support. With a bright smile, she said, “You’ll be the mercenary.”
“Okay.”
The Saint pursed her lips, her expression childlike and slightly pouty. “I’ll be your fiancée.”
Wakako had long known just how possessive Miki could be when her jealousy flared up. Especially after that time Wakako had teased her by calling someone else her fiancée—Miki had never forgotten it.
Even with a fever, she still remembered it.
“Alright,” Wakako sighed, giving in to her. “We…”
But Miki softly interrupted, “Why haven’t we held our wedding yet?”
She was already fully immersed in her role as the “fiancée,” her unblinking eyes fixed on Wakako. “Is Lady Wakako perhaps defying the Queen’s betrothal decree? Or does she have someone else in mind?”
Wakako stared at her.
After a long silence, she said, “I’m not going to marry you.”
“Why not?”
“Because… there’s someone else in my heart.”
The wind lifted Miki’s hair, strands swirling around her ears. “What kind of person is she?”
Miki, her real fiancée, had asked the exact same question.
And Wakako’s answer remained unchanged.
“She’s a very stubborn girl.”
Miki suddenly burst into laughter. “Stubborn?”
She walked towards Wakako, releasing her grip on the vines. “How is she stubborn?”
Wakako looked down at her sleeve being tugged. “She always likes to hold onto me.”
“And what else?”
“She gets jealous easily. If anyone so much as looks at me for too long, she’ll pester me with questions.”
Miki leaned closer, seemingly able to feel the heat radiating from Wakako’s forehead. “Does that annoy you?” she asked softly, echoing Wakako’s description. “Do you think she shouldn’t be like that?”
Wakako couldn’t help but raise her hand, carefully smoothing out the wind-blown strands of Miki’s hair. She answered honestly, “No, she can do whatever she wants.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s more precious than anyone else.”
But this answer seemed to disappoint Miki. “Just because she’s of noble birth, she can do whatever she pleases?” she said. “Have you forgotten…”
Forgotten the countless rules and regulations detailed in those thick scriptures. Every action of the Saint had to be strictly adhered to, with no room for deviation.
Like a cage made of gold, it appeared luxurious but trapped its her inside, leaving her no room to move.
Looking into those clear, unblemished eyes, Wakako replied calmly, “It’s not her birth. It’s because of who she is to me.”
She wasn’t referring to the Saint’s title, but to the person behind it. To Wakako, her master’s existence was the most exalted of all.
Only then did a faint smile return to Miki’s face. “Is that so,” she said softly. “Then… would you do anything she asks of you?”
“Yes.”
“Even things you don’t want to do?”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.”
“Oh?”
“As long as it’s her wish, I’ll do it.”
A leaf landed on Wakako’s head. Miki stood on tiptoe and gently brushed it away. “Then five years ago, when she told you to forget her, why didn’t you listen?”
…
Five years ago, at Jinxin Port, Wakako had been pushed into the rushing waters while the Saint was surrounded by the Saionji clan’s guards on the shore.
Ichiro, the head of the Saionji clan, watched as the rebellious servant, who dared to elope with the Saint, drifted away in a small boat. He was about to shoot another arrow, but the Saint grabbed his sleeve tightly.
The voices of those around them were too loud for Wakako to hear. Under the richly colored sky, with her exceptional night vision, she saw Miki’s bitter smile and the words she mouthed:
“Forget me.”
…
It was easy to say those few light words, but how could one actually carry them out?
Wakako didn’t answer, instead asking, “Didn’t she fail to do the same?”
She could have chosen not to save Wakako in the Eagle Kingdom’s royal palace, she could have ignored her at the Hyman family’s wedding ceremony, and on the battlefield… time and time again, neither of them could forget.
“You said yourself that she’s stubborn,” Miki seemed to sigh almost imperceptibly. “I suppose it’s normal for her to say one thing and mean another.”
Miki said softly, “She may have told you to forget her, but deep down, more than anyone, she hopes you’ll remember her forever. If you really did forget, she’d be furious.”
“I know.”
“Do you really know?”
“It’s exactly the kind of thing she would do.”
“Good.” Miki smiled softly, changing the subject. “Alright, push me on the swing again.”
Her tone was so natural, so free of superiority, as if she were speaking not to a servant, but to a lover.
Wakako did as she was asked, pushing Miki lightly on the swing. Both of them savored this rare, quiet moment.
The days on the mountain were a return to simplicity, free from the constraints of social hierarchy. They were no longer a mercenary and a Saint, but simply two girls named Wakako and Miki.
The monkeys that had helped wash their clothes earlier gathered around again, showing their mischievous nature by grabbing onto vines and swinging alongside them.
Suddenly, Miki said, “Let’s stay on the mountain forever, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m not playing house now.”
“…”
Wakako still replied, “Okay.”
But they both knew it was impossible.
***
After several days of recovery, the two cities of Mios and the Eagle Kingdom were in similar states.
The wild elephants, combined with the disaster, had all but destroyed Yueqing City, which had already been old and dilapidated. It was now beyond repair. Reinforcements had arrived long ago, but faced with such a mess, they were exhausted and overwhelmed.
Although Nanling City wasn’t as severely damaged, its large population still presented significant challenges and numerous urgent matters requiring attention.
Both sides had initially agreed to negotiate outside the city walls, but neither felt secure with this arrangement. They repeatedly broke their agreements, constantly plotting surprise attacks, only managing to maintain a superficial peace with great difficulty.
On the Eagle Kingdom’s side, the leader of the reinforcements was an Omega. His face was strikingly handsome, with a delicate, scholarly appearance.
However, no one underestimated him due to his Omega status. Instead, they reported to him with utmost respect, “Lord Saburo…”
This was none other than Wakako’s previous assassination target—Saionji Saburo.
He had previously withdrawn from the front lines and now returned with reinforcements, assuming command of all Eagle Kingdom forces.
Saburo flipped through the scroll in his hand. “Still no sign of the Saint?”
His subordinate replied fearfully, “Forgive me, Lord Saburo, we haven’t found any trace of the Saint yet…”
He couldn’t understand why Saburo seemed so unconcerned about the Saint’s disappearance, a matter that had everyone else on edge. He even had the leisure to read.
“It’s fine,” Saburo said without looking up. “Take your time searching.”
He knew Miki wouldn’t die so easily. Besides, he had leverage over her. One way or another, he would find her.
Of course, they weren’t the only ones looking for her. On the other side, Crown Princess Tsukiyo was equally anxious.
After the chaos, they had been fortunate to suffer no major losses. But the one person still missing was her master, Wakako.
Liu Siruo wasn’t too worried, though. She knew just how resilient her junior was. “The mountain floods have just subsided, and the roads are still difficult to travel. I’m sure she’s only delayed somewhere. Your Highness needn’t worry.”
But to everyone’s surprise, Miki suddenly knelt down on one knee in front of Princess Tsukiyo with a serious expression.
“Your Highness, I request permission to search for Senior Kitagawa.”
