Her red eyes, sensitive to the point of fear, gleamed sharply.

Lowering my gaze to the wrist he held, I saw thick veins rising on Edan’s hand, as if he were suppressing the force he exerted.

“Latie.”

His voice, unusually cold and calm, felt like an attempt to conceal his anxiety. I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again.

“Edan, I can see myself in the mirror.”

Instantly, his grip tightened around my wrist. When I winced, Edan quickly released his hand.

“My mistake.”

“It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine.”

Compared to the stabbing pain in my chest, this wasn’t pain at all.

I turned my gaze toward the mirror. My hand, held by Edan, appeared to float in midair.

Conversely, my face—deathly pale and drained of color—reflected back with terrifying clarity.

Blinking slowly, I silently pleaded for my reflection to vanish, but no matter how long I waited, nothing changed.

To suppress the suffocating pressure rising to my throat, I bit down hard on my lips. Then, slowly, I turned my head back.

The golden chain attached to Edan’s jacket shoulder had slipped down to his chest.

Following it upward with my eyes, I saw Edan’s face frozen into an expression so chilling it raised goosebumps.

“When.”

He cut off the abruptly spoken word, exhaled a low sigh, and swept his hair back.

“When did you find out?”

I forced myself to answer calmly as I watched his handsome face twist with agitation.

“The day Maxim and Duke Dante came.”

Edan’s jaw clenched.

“You knew back then? Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

I had intended to.

But I missed the timing when Edan asked for the diary.

Besides, I couldn’t bring myself to speak when I saw his bright smile as he claimed he’d found a solution, or his joyful expression as he promised to find the sacred artifact no matter what.

And since Edan himself had mentioned wanting to check the mirror during our conversation, I wanted to verify things properly again.

Also, I didn’t want to ruin that day’s pleasant atmosphere—I wanted to escape reality.

Back then, I was just anxious.

Why? Why only me? That question filled my mind, and I refused to acknowledge even the slightest suspicion.

I wanted to pretend I didn’t know about the uncomfortable worry that I might be the artifact.

The truth I instinctively felt was terrifying.

I wanted to break free from the shackles of “healing power” and become truly free—but that freedom was premised on staying beside Edan, not this.

So… because it’s not certain. Because it might not be me. Because I desperately hope it isn’t. Because I want it not to be.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to check one more time. Back then, I didn’t want to admit it either….”

“I didn’t ask for an apology. Damn it.”

I’d never seen Edan this flustered before.

“I’m sorry, Edan.”

I apologized in a voice grown small and quiet.

After irritably sweeping his hair back several times, Edan suddenly pressed his palm against the mirror.

The mirror showed no reaction—as if he’d merely touched a wall. His icy glare at the mirror slowly shifted toward me.

“Try it.”

He grabbed my hand.

“Put your hand on it again.”

“…….”

Does he not believe it? Or does he not want to believe it?

Edan stared at me with cold, half-lidded eyes, as if trying once more to confirm whether I was truly the artifact.

“I’m sorry, but I need to be absolutely certain.”

The squishy texture of the mirror was deeply unpleasant, and I never wanted to feel it again. But if Edan insisted…

I nodded and raised my hand.

The moment my fingertips touched the mirror’s surface, ripples formed again, just as before. The waves grew larger, making the entire mirror undulate, and at the instant the glass shimmered like liquid, my hand was abruptly sucked inward.

“Ugh!”

The same moment I tried to yank my hand back in surprise, Edan grimaced and swiftly seized my wrist.

What—what was that sensation just now…?!

I frantically pulled my arm back, clutching my right hand—which had vanished into and reemerged from the mirror—to my chest, swallowing hard.

It had happened like an explosion, without warning.

In mere moments, cold sweat drenched my forehead.

Inside the mirror, an unpleasant chill saturated the air, as if my blood had frozen solid. An indescribable, overwhelming terror crushed me, leaving my mouth dry and gritty as if I’d swallowed sand.

“Latie.”

“…Yes?”

Dazedly staring at the mirror, I turned to Edan in confusion.

“Sorry. One more time.”

For some reason, Edan’s gaze had grown far more murderous than before.

“What—what do you mean?”

“Try sending only your healing power into the mirror.”

“…….”

Under Edan’s resolute demeanor, I steadied my breath and stretched my hand toward the mirror again.

Without touching the surface, I emitted a sparkling pink glow from a slight distance. The energy swelled like a giant soap bubble, then was swiftly drawn into the mirror.

The mirror rippled once more, and the cave began to tremble. Faintly glowing magic circles briefly appeared on the floor before quickly fading away.

“Edan! Did you just see the magic circle here? It was definitely…!”

“I saw it.”

Edan answered curtly, then remained silent for a while.

Eventually, as if organizing his thoughts, he lowered his eyes loosely.

“This magic circle seems to react only to healing power, but remember—Saintesses die when they exhaust all their healing power. Even a Grand Saintess is no exception.”

“…….”

The magic circle covering the vast cave floor was enormous—an immense construct crafted over long years by a Grand Magician.

Even with the amount of power I’d just channeled, it merely flickered faintly before vanishing.

“Edan… I really am the artifact, aren’t I?”

“…….”

He didn’t deny it.

“To activate a magic circle of this scale, mediocre healing power wouldn’t even come close. …So in the end, it’s my life, isn’t it?”

Edan still gave no answer. Admitting reality aloud made me feel like bursting into tears, so I laughed helplessly instead.

The Grand Magician was right.

I agree—even the words “perhaps” or “impossible” hold no weight now.

Maybe the Grand Magician’s long-sought experiment failed under pressure from the Empress, or perhaps there were other unforeseen reasons. Whatever the cause, it was clearly an immensely difficult task.

Even gathering all the Saintesses to pool their strength yields only a fraction compared to a Grand Saintess—and even among Grand Saintesses, the magnitude of their power varies.

When I first manifested my power at the Temple, the High Priest seemed profoundly shocked.

He clearly stated he’d never seen healing power materialize like that before. It meant my power was exceptionally strong—and that previous Grand Saintesses lacked such strength.

Perhaps the Grand Magician’s experiment failed simply because no Grand Saintess possessed enough power to activate the magic circle.

And my healing power is extraordinarily, exceptionally strong.

“Latie.”

A low voice, now calmed and composed, reached me.

“Do the Priest and the Duke know you reflect in the mirror?”

I shook my head.

“No. I haven’t told them.”

I feel guilty toward Maxim and Dante, but honestly, even now I lack the courage to tell them openly.

Even if it’s for everyone’s sake—is sacrificing my own life truly easy?

Maybe someone else could do it. But at least, I can’t. I don’t know.

I want Edan to be free from suffering. I want him to live an utterly happy life in a world without monsters.

But…

“You know, Edan… I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Can’t we just keep doing what we’re doing? I can keep making potions well and distributing them to the knights.”

I love Edan. I love him so much I want to stay beside him. That’s all. Just that. Even if hiding for my own happiness is cowardly, even if it’s selfish—I don’t care.

I want to stay beside Edan that much.

I want to live an ordinary life—seeing his face every day, laughing over trivial things, occasionally bickering and making up, holding hands while walking. It’s not a grand desire. It’s a small wish anyone might long for. So…

“We can just live like this, right? I’ll make as many pills or potions as the Temple wants. We don’t have to… we don’t have to… close the monster’s gate….”

Unable to finish my sentence, I dropped my head toward the floor.

Why can’t we? Please.

“Why can’t we?”

Before I realized it, my voice trembled with tears.

“Latie, don’t make simple things complicated.”

Edan wrapped his strong arms tightly around my shoulders.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to confirm properly. If you’re the artifact, we need to handle the aftermath appropriately.”

Hearing his gentle, familiar tone brought such relief that a wave of sorrow welled up inside me.

“What do you mean by ‘aftermath’?”

“What else? Eliminate anyone who knows your true identity.”

What?

“Make it as if it never happened. The diary clearly said it was impossible. We’ll just say we never found the artifact.”

I hastily lifted my face, which had been buried deep in his chest.

“Everything I said that night is canceled. I wouldn’t have said those things if I’d known you were the artifact. I don’t need a future without monsters. I’m already seasoned at killing them, and even with the side effects of my ability, I’ve lived fine until now.”

Those with special abilities would do anything to escape their side effects—it was that desperate, that fervent a longing. Knowing that, I’d thought hard about it too… but this conclusion felt far too easily reached.

“So… can I just pretend I don’t know about this?”

Edan lowered his shoulders to match my eye level.

“I told you—I put you first.”

The icy mask that had hardened his face melted into his usual faint smile.

“You did well listening to me.”

Sunlight streaming down from the open cave ceiling blended with the interior’s orange glow, dyeing Edan’s golden hair the color of sunset.

His fingers gently brushed my reddened eyes.

“You also did well keeping it secret from everyone. You nearly made me kill those two.”

“…What?”

Surely he didn’t mean Maxim and Dante?

“I can’t leave alive anyone who knows your secret.”

“…….”