Rohika asked the attendant who came out holding the girl.

“What’s up?”

“She’s stopped breathing.”

“Oh.”

At this too natural conversation, Roble’s face froze once more.

The young saintess stared blankly, and Rohika smiled cunningly.

“Don’t misunderstand. They’re cared for extremely well. But no matter how wellfed and rested they are, it’s no use. The body deteriorates when resonating with the dragon.”

At Rohika’s explanation, Roble was rather enveloped in doubt. So Rohika kindly added,

“It’s common sense. What can be done by a few noble young ladies with no talent, shaking and singing? It would be nice if the world could be saved with such child’s play.”

“What are you talking about…?”

“Purifying the water is those kids’ job. They call the dragon for more than half a day every day. They barely manage to purify the lake after 40 days like that.”

“Then what about us?”

“You?”

As Roble asked with trembling eyes, Rohika burst into laughter.

“You’re a distraction to hide this.”

“Why? Why hide this? If those kids are the ones purifying the water, just tell the truth!”

Roble yelled without realizing. Meanwhile, the girls’ songs continued without pause.

Roble had dreamed of becoming a saintess since her awakening. But to think that being a saintess was such a fleeting illusion. She felt as though her very essence had been denied.

She therefore asked harshly, but Rohika’s answer remained light.

“People would be unhappy if something like this caught their eye. Who would want to know that young girls are being tormented and dying to purify water?”

At Rohika’s response, Roble’s face turned pale.

She couldn’t believe it. The Rohika that Roble knew was only awkward at befriending others, but a gentle friend.

But after becoming a tower master, Rohika had changed. Roble did not know such a skillful and malicious girl.

“Besides, if this gets known, we won’t be able to gather singing girls.”

“Gather them…?”

“Yes, that’s your job.”

This was a story unknown to the Tienda nobles.

A suspicious rumor that circulated only in the slums, orphanages, and slave markets of Bys.

A child who can sing with a beautiful voice can go to Tienda if they can follow the saintess’s song.

“The saintess goes down to Bys regularly to teach songs. To make poor children who hear the rumor learn that song.”

Then the tower selects a child with confirmed skills. After that, just like that.

Rohika gestured at the singing girls with her green eyes.

At that sight, Roble felt suffocated. As if she had poured a very pungent perfume into her mouth, her throat was choked, and she couldn’t breathe.

“So, what happens to those kids? All their lives like that, or…?”

“They’re released after 3 years since joining. Any longer, and their voices wear out and they can’t be used. But honestly, hardly any children last that long.”

At Rohika’s answer, Roble moaned like a cry.

Faced with her friend, who looked at her like a bug, Rohika smiled broadly and whispered,

“It’s for the world. For everyone, someone must do it.”

“That’s absurd…!”

Roble finally screamed. The girl who had become a saintess trembled and condemned the tower’s cruelty.
But the response she received upon returning to the Holy Land was ruthless.

“Do you not care about the safety of your family?”

Roblere was at a loss for words.

Despite its small power, Tuhah was known for producing the most saints.

But if this matter were to expose the existence of the saint as false, and further expose the deception of the past saints, Tuhah would…

Roblere clenched her teeth. Then she remembered the saint’s oath and shouted.

“I don’t care about my family! I, I can’t accept, how could this…!”

“Is that so? Then you save it.”

Roblere’s rebuttal was met with Rohika’s casual wave of the hand. Then the servants pulled the strings to stop the girls’ singing.

“Congratulations. Your mercy has saved those girls. Now their lives are in your hands.”

Unexpectedly, Rohika had taken Roblere’s words seriously. So Roblere was rather bewildered. She felt trapped.

“If you can take their place, I’ll let those poor girls go. But if you fail, you’ll keep quiet and behave, like other saints.”

.

.

.

As Roblere expected, it was a trap.

The purification stopped afterward. Roblere Tuhah was condemned as the most inept saint in history.

And innocent people fell sick and died.

Unable to bear it, Roblere went down to the basement of the tower after just six months. And Rohika happily greeted the returned Tangah.

“The water hasn’t been purified, so Bice has a drought, and epidemics have spread because of the salt damage. It’s pitiful without drinking water, and an epidemic. Thousands have died in the west alone, and I don’t know about the unreported south. Besides, many will die this winter due to the desperate failure of the crops.”

Rohika recounted the desperate situation in Bice like a senior teaching a lesson, and then she tilted her head and smiled.

“What do you think?”

At that cruel question, Roblere finally fell at Rohika’s feet, bursting into tears.

I should have just been angry! Yell at me for rushing in without fear, scold me for talking foolishly!

But no matter how much she resented, it was too late.

Roblere failed to save anyone in the end. Neither the singing girls facing death nor the innocent people of the lower continent.

She only confirmed her own powerlessness, receiving only hatred, and realizing another role of a saint.

Ah, a saint was a scapegoat. The one who takes all the problems on behalf of the tower and is dragged into the streets. A highly convenient existence. That’s why the tower cherished the saint.

“It’s okay, you can do well now. You killed thousands to save hundreds, but if you become a great saint, I don’t care.”

Rohika looked down at Roblere and smiled.

Roblere was so afraid of Rohika that she couldn’t say anything.

She even thought of informing the nobles about the reality of the tower. But the moment she saw that greeneyed demon, all her will shattered.

Who would stand up if they knew this? Who in the world wants to know that the rock that rose above the crashing waves is someone else’s head? How many people would willingly come down knowing that?

We are all already accomplices.

In the distant despair, Roblere recalled the oath she took on the day she became a saint.

You, the chosen one. Symbol of hope. Connector of two continents. Essence of purity. Representative of Manyanya…

She wanted to go back to that moment when she took the oath with all those prayers and tear out her ears and mouth.

Ah, if the real role of a saint was this, why did they make her take such an oath?

If it was to tame the ignorant saint, it would indeed be a devilish idea.

And we shake hands with the devil every day.

.

.

.

Roblere finally accepted her role as a saint, and 5 years have passed since.

On a day like any other, when she was holding her breath.

“Put that down first!”

“I don’t want to!”

“It’s dangerous!”

“I know, so either move or we all burn together.”

A very calmly crazy child flowed into the basement of the tower.