When using teleportation magic, Dally couldn't bring the beast along because it was too large, so the two of them landed on the ground swarmed with soldiers.
Aria touched the slash wound on Dally's back. The flesh was torn open, and hot liquid kept seeping out, all of which she could feel through her hand.
"Cough… cough!" Dally scowled, coughing up blood. She struggled to hold Aria tightly in her arms.
"Dally, Dally!" Aria's tears streamed down her cheeks. Was someone she loved dearly going to die in front of her? It felt like torture.
The knight who had caused this showed no hint of guilt. With that same stern expression, he raised his sword and charged forward again.
Panic surged through Aria. She had to do something—anything—to escape this. She started chanting every spell she had learned from Dally, but before any of them could activate, Dally had already cast a teleportation spell, causing them both to vanish into thin air.
The man in white armor, holding a blood-stained sword, swung it in frustration. A sharp wind blade burst forth and felled a tree nearby.
"FIND THOSE TWO WITCHES IMMEDIATELY!"
…
"Dally, are you alright?"
Dally collapsed to the ground, her face paler than before. Aria rushed behind her, placing her hands on the wound and began casting a healing spell.
"W-Why!? Why isn't my magic working—?" she panicked. The wound was so deep that the bone was visible, yet there was no sign of improvement.
"It's useless. This wound was inflicted by a holy sword. Your magic won't work on it," Dally said. Aria didn't know that the magic she had been taught—and was currently using—was dark magic. Those who could use it were known as witches. This type of magic was strange and diverse, often associated with chaos and human suffering. That's why people called its users witches.
This magic stemmed from the flow of dark energy within a person and was inherently opposed to holy power.
Dally smiled weakly, her voice hoarse. Despite the pain, she turned around and carried Aria again.
"Why can't it work!? Dally, please don't move anymore!" Aria begged as Dally continued teleporting short distances. She was clearly forcing herself to use her remaining mana. Aria knew Dally had a powerful mana core, but she had already used up too much summoning Bam and casting long-distance teleportation spells.
"Stop it, Dally. I'm begging you," Aria choked on her words. Who were those armored men? Her mind was overwhelmed with unanswered questions.
…
"Aria," Dally said at last, setting her down.
Aria wiped her swollen eyes and looked around. In front of her was a large iron gate with a sign that read: Marie Orphanage.
Dally pulled out an old-looking book with a wooden cover intricately carved with great care, along with a small glass vial filled with white liquid. She placed them in Aria's hands.
"What... What is this?" Aria mumbled, confused. Why was Dally giving her this?
"Aria, never use magic in front of others," Dally said firmly, gripping her shoulders.
"If you must, you have to drink this potion first."
"What do you mean, Dally?"
"Promise me."
Looking into Dally's eyes, though she didn't know the reason, Aria couldn't bring herself to refuse. "Alright."
…
"Holy Maiden," a middle-aged woman with a kind face entered the room.
Aria sat at a desk in a lavishly decorated chamber.
"What is it, Lady Dowager Adorlee?" Aria asked calmly, flipping a page.
"Do you remember Crown Prince Edgar? His engagement ceremony with Lady Dolian is scheduled for next week," she said, clasping her hands behind her back.
Crown Prince Edgar? And Dolian? Aria raised an eyebrow. Edgar...
"I won't be able to attend next week due to unresolved personal matters. You'll have to go alone. I apologize."
Aria smirked inwardly. This was definitely related to the search for witches.
"Also, the selection exam for your personal Holy Knight has concluded. This is Julien, the boy who will accompany you from now on," the dowager smiled and waved toward the door.
He had hair dark as a raven's feathers, eyes like bottomless pits, and pale skin that made his rose-red lips stand out even more. A gloomy aura clung to him. That was Aria's first impression.
Aria set down her book and looked at the boy, around twelve years old, as he stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and bowed.
"Holy Maiden, I am Julien, the one chosen to be your personal Holy Knight."
Aria stared at him without blinking. That voice and youthful face—could this boy really protect her?
"…Alright," Aria nodded slightly.
"I'll leave the two of you now. I have matters to attend to. Farewell, Holy Maiden," Lady Adorlee bowed and left slowly.
. . .
"Why are you still kneeling?" Aria asked while picking up her book again.
"You haven't granted me permission to rise, Holy Maiden," Julien replied, still kneeling in light armor with a sword fitted to his size.
Aria suppressed a laugh. "So if I never say anything, will you stay like that forever?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
"…Yes."
Julien swallowed hard. She truly was the Holy Maiden. He felt the girl before him was far more than just a ten-year-old child. He didn't want to make any mistakes or leave a bad impression—especially on their first meeting.
"Alright then. You may stand, Julien."
Julien felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest. As he raised his head to look, Aria emotionlessly read her book. Julien was dazed by the sight—his heart almost stopped.
Aria pretended not to notice the boy staring at her. To her now, he was just an obstacle—someone she had to deal with to carry out her goals. Hm, what should she do with this boy?
. . .
Seven years had passed since that day—when Dally left her behind at Marie Orphanage with only the book and the vial.
Aria leaned against the window frame, staring blankly into the night.
"Dally…"
She hated them. Those knights. Especially the one who led them. Aria had been secretly searching for them, but found nothing. Witch hunts were happening everywhere, and information was scattered, unverified—like looking for a needle in a haystack. But she was certain: the Papal Order had something to do with what happened back then. One day, she would destroy that rotten church.
Aria extended her hand. A white light glowed from her palm. The potion Dally had given her could alter the color of her magic—from black to white, the color representing holiness. Thanks to it, she was able to enter this place and become the "Holy Maiden."
And during her upcoming trip to the capital, she would continue her search.
. . .
Julien had a habit of training late into the night before returning to his room. But tonight, he paused. Why hadn't the Holy Maiden gone to bed yet? He could see a pure white light radiating from her hand.
Julien recalled their encounter earlier that day. The girl with hair like moonlight, ash-gray eyes with black pupils, long lashes like butterfly wings, a high nose bridge, and smooth skin—truly beautiful.
Julien pursed his lips. He wanted to suppress this strange feeling, but it was growing stronger.
When Aria finally turned away and stepped back inside, he felt an inexplicable pang of disappointment.