The doctor held out a piece of paper.

It was crumpled and covered in dust, as though it had travelled a long way to reach his hand. Ramelata frowned at it, reluctant to touch it.

Her expression twisted further as she read the contents.

“Failed?”

She read the word aloud in a sharp voice. The way she held her breath, barely restraining it, revealed her agitation.

It was not just the message itself that angered her.

“Oh dear. You mean the attempt on Priest Lawrence this time?”

The physician murmured from behind the sleeve that covered his mouth. The words themselves sounded ordinary enough.

But there was laughter hidden in their tone.

It lingered in the way he spoke and probably on his face beneath the cloth, too.

“Shut your mouth. It wasn’t Martiana anyway.”

So it didn’t need to succeed.

That was what she meant.

However, the physician did not seem inclined to agree.

“Is that so? At this rate, whether it’s that woman or not, we may have to secure someone.”

“……”

“I told you when you first came here. Treatment proceeds in the order that materials are obtained.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

Ramelata glared at him in silence. There was no room for excuses. She had already heard those words hundreds of times.

Had he not said the same thing when she first left the Pumilum territory for the capital? That “materials” were required.

That was why she had sent someone to Martiana the moment she arrived. The problem was that everything began unraveling from that point.

‘I should have done something that day.’

That was the day she fled the Duke’s residence.

Originally, Ramelata had planned to collect what she needed from Martiana and then stay at the Duke of Vandyk’s estate until her son’s treatment was complete. She knew no one else in the capital except Drisena. There was no other sensible option.

Wandering openly from one inn to another would have drawn unwanted attention — trouble she could not afford.

But when that woman returned, everything unraveled.

In fact, her survival alone had been a catastrophe.

If she were there, she would surely recognize Alex. As someone blessed with divine blood, she could see through any falsehood without hesitation.

That was why Ramelata had sent her son away.

To keep him from crossing paths with Martiana at any cost.

In that regard, her decision had been the right one. Ultimately, she had managed to instill a sense of defeat in Martiana.

If Martiana had truly felt it, even for a moment, that would have satisfied her.

After all the anxiety she had endured, she deserved that much at least.

“We will begin the first treatment soon.”

She had been given the words the moment she arrived.

Another child, someone else’s son, was to be treated first.

They said that the necessary materials had already been secured.

No one knew how much she resented that news. How deeply she had envied him!

She was consumed by impatience.

According to the original schedule, her son was supposed to be treated first. By now, the treatment should have been finished. She should have already returned to Pumilum, her burden finally lifted.

That had been the plan.

Yet she had achieved nothing.

“Make up for your previous failure.”

So she summoned him again.

It was the same man who had attacked Martiana once before.

He was a fool, but he was greedy for money. She had already paid him handsomely. This made him easy to manipulate.

She hadn’t expected Martiana to remain at the estate for so long.

That was why she changed the target. If Martiana could not be obtained, then someone else with sacred blood would suffice.

Now, she had just received word that that attempt had failed too.

“Useless trash!”

Ramelata stamped her foot in irritation.

Beside her, Alex shrank back at the sight.

“M-Mother?”

“Oh dear, you are frightening the young master.”

“And I’m supposed to care about that right now?”

Ramelata shot her son a sideways glance, her face twisting. Her features, as delicate as her soft pink hair, were now distorted with anger.

“The next turn—is it decided already?”

“Not yet. But it seems one candidate will soon meet the requirements.”

Crunch.

She bit her nails.

She couldn’t afford to keep losing her place in the queue.

Timing was one issue.

Her patience was another.

She had already waited far too long.

From the moment she first wished for this, until now.

From the moment the physician first appeared in Pumilum territory.

***

Fate is unpredictable.

Five years ago, Ramelata could never have imagined meeting that man.

Had it not been for that incident, she might never have sought him out.

Five years earlier—

“Father!”

If her father, the former Count of Pumilum, had not collapsed, things would have been different.

It was the plague.

Dark blotches spread across his body. Fever burned high. His mind fell into delirium.

To this day, she did not know what the illness had been.

Strangely, it had only spread within Pumilum territory. Physicians could not identify it. The royal court dismissed it as a local affliction.

Yet countless families lost their loved ones.

“No! My child!”

Ramelata was no exception.

Most of her family fell ill, including her father, husband, and newborn son.

She tried everything.

Anything that might help.

Nothing worked.

Each day, the sound of mourning grew louder.

Then, in the midst of despair, a strange rumor began to circulate.

“A healer has arrived in the village.”

He was a healer who could cure any illness.

He appeared without warning and people began to recover.

At first, this seemed impossible.

But there was a reason.

He was not just a herbalist.

“They say he can use healing power.”

He was a man with divine abilities.

She did not have the luxury of asking how someone who was not a priest could possess such a gift.

A high priest had visited the Count’s estate several times.

None of them had succeeded.

Yet this healer in the village was curing people.

What choice did she have?

She summoned him at once.

“Can you treat them?”

As soon as Ramelata saw the healer being brought to the estate, she asked about them.

She had already exhausted herself with sleepless nights spent caring for the sick.

He answered her.

“The god I serve can.”

Five years ago, he had stood before her in the same way, dressed entirely in black. He spoke with a quiet chuckle, as though what he was offering was nothing out of the ordinary.

His answer had been strange. Unsettling, even.

At the time, however, she had felt only relief.

In the darkness that surrounded her, his promise of salvation had shone like a single, unwavering light.

In truth, most of her household had survived because of him. Her father too. He lived for three more years before finally passing away.

How could she not believe in him?

Whatever else he was, his skill was undeniable.

However, there had been one side effect.

“You cannot enter.”

At some point, she realized that she could no longer enter the temple.

It wasn’t just Ramelata. Anyone who had received treatment from him was affected by the same restriction.

At first, this had been bewildering.

She had merely gone to offer tribute — nothing more. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she could not pass through the entrance.

There was no one there to stop her. And yet it felt as though an invisible wall had risen before the temple gates, preventing her from crossing the threshold.

Even more unsettling were the words spoken by a temple official when he saw her.

“Countess, have you been consorting with heretics?”

That.

The question had shocked her.

Although she was not particularly devout, her faith had never wavered.

Yet, upon hearing it, she was reminded of a phrase from the past.

“The god I serve can.”

‘The God I serve.’

Why had she not realized how strange that sounded?

Ramelata sought him out immediately.

She demanded that he put things back the way they were. But he was shameless beyond measure.

Nothing seemed to affect him.

Instead—

“That is excellent. Why not continue worshiping our god as you are?”

“Heresy is illegal. Are you saying I should forfeit the blessing of the true god?”

“You may receive it from mine. You have already witnessed the power. My god surpasses the one of the state church.”

His tongue moved like a serpent’s.

She was drawn in.

Not all at once, though.

At first, as the ruler of her domain, she tried to set things straight. But then he whispered something.

“Is there not something you wish to attain, Countess?”

“What?”

Like that.

“I can grant what you desire.”

“Like that.”

He hinted at a power that no one else knew he possessed — a rare ability bestowed upon him through his devotion to a specific deity.

When she witnessed this skill, which he insisted he had never revealed to anyone before, she felt an exhilaration rush through her like a sudden flame.

And in that instant, she understood.

The wish she had carried in her heart for so long—

— he could grant it.

His god could make it real.

If that was true, how could she possibly refuse?

Of course she would agree.

She would do anything.

Especially if it meant saving her beloved son.