The flowing dress hem hindered her sprint. Lucilia lifted her dress up to her calves and ran through the streets like a madwoman.

The moment the Pope’s order to capture the witch fell, the monastery was no longer a sanctuary.

“Huff, huff.”

Her breath reached the edge of her throat.

If a nun from the monastery hadn’t tipped her off in advance, she would have been caught and handed over to the inquisitor without a chance.

The nun’s words that there would be a savior at the end of the road were her last thread of hope.

‘I can’t be caught here!’

The path leading to the convent was sacred ground. Even the king’s army couldn’t enter, so there was no way to push back the knights sent by the Pope.

Of course, she wasn’t certain the king was on her side either.

The night streets were pitch black, just like her bleak reality.

She repeatedly fell and got up as she made her way through the distant path.

Her once pristine white saint’s robe was now covered in dirt.

The pure white color symbolizing a saint was tainted, and her sacred status had faded as well.

Her knee was torn after tripping on a rock, but she had no time to examine it. Just imagining the knights catching up made her knees weak, so she kept running forward.

It was when she was moving her heavy legs, desperately hoping for a savior.

“There she is! She ran that way!”

The harsh shout tore through the quiet air.

Lucilia froze in place.

Blood was streaming from her knee, but her ears were ringing, and her mind was foggy.

She needed to cry out for help, for anyone to save her, but it felt like cotton was stuffed in her throat, making it difficult to even breathe properly.

She had come this far clinging to a sliver of hope…

It seemed she would die here.

How far could she run with an injured leg?

How could she outmaneuver well-trained knights?

No matter how desperately she struggled to survive, what awaited her was an end on the execution platform.

Tears blurred her vision.

“No. J-just a little further. I have to do something to survive.”

Even if she were to be caught, she should run until the end to avoid regret.

Lucilia steeled herself and kicked the ground with all her might. Her lungs felt like they would tear from her labored breathing, but she didn’t stop.

Perhaps from overexertion, pain shot up from her torn knee and twisted ankle. She could hear the distant sound of hoofbeats.

“Stop right there!”

She ran desperately, but it was impossible to outrun the speed of horses.

The hope of survival she had painted seemed meaningless as she once again felt the fear of death at this crossroads between life and death.

‘I have no strength left to run.’

This is truly the end.

The end of the road the nun mentioned might be just a little further ahead, but it seemed she wouldn’t be allowed to reach it.

She had no strength left to run. Her legs grew heavier, as if tied to boulders.

“Ah!”

To make matters worse, she misstepped on the uneven ground and collapsed.

Lucilia clutched at the dirt, struggling with all her might to stand up.

“How dare a vile witch like you try to escape? Accept your judgment with humility. That is how you repay the grace bestowed upon you by God.”

The Pope’s crusader knights were suddenly behind her.

A scream clawed at her throat—they once revered her as a saint, but now condemned her as a witch without evidence. She wished she could shout it out clearly, but her labored breathing pushed it back down.

The sound of a sword being unsheathed spread coldly behind her.

Tears welled up in her orange eyes that resembled a brilliant sunset.

In the end, no savior appeared. No, she lacked the ability to reach the end of the road where the savior might be.

At her limit, Lucilia turned around with a whimper.

If only her knight Raphad, who used to protect her, were here, it wouldn’t be so heartbreaking. Without even the one who once showed her utmost loyalty, she felt utterly empty.

Hope was cruelly shattered, and her struggle to survive subsided.

As she resigned herself to being captured and executed, the reason she had desperately clung to lost its strength and fled.

The sharpened blade was about to aim for her neck.

In that moment when she anticipated death—

Whoosh! An arrow flew through the dawn air and landed precisely in the ground between Lucilia and the knights.

The knights’ formation faltered at the unexpected attack.

“Who goes there! Who dares to defy His Holiness the Pope’s order—”

“Aaron Artnal.”

A voice of absolute calm heavily filled the quiet space.

Its lack of commotion made it feel all the more powerful.

The knight commander looked around in confusion before glaring in the direction the arrow had come from.

“Young Baron Artnal…”

Hearing the commander’s murmur, Lucilia’s head turned toward Aaron of its own accord.

She could finally identify the familiar name. They had first met at the marquis’s residence where she lived as a child.

She had wanted to become friends, but their difference in status made it impossible, and later, when she was elevated as a saint, she completely cut herself off from the world.

From then until now, Aaron’s spirit remained unwavering.

During the hesitation, Aaron turned his head back slightly and gave a brief nod.

Then Deputy Commander Rombon approached with his sword drawn.

As both sides faced off tensely, Rombon quietly said to Lucilia:

“This way, my lady.”

Rombon nodded firmly, as if to say there was nothing to fear.

The crusader knights, who had been on edge, showed no particular reaction.

Though the words of a mere young baron were nothing compared to the Pope’s solemn order, they seemed reluctant to attack someone who recently enjoyed the king’s full confidence.

Lucilia carefully took one step at a time during the quiet moment.

When she reached Aaron, he commanded:

“Move completely behind me.”

His instruction to her was soon directed to his knights.

They split into two sides in perfect unison, making way for Lucilia to enter.

After she had completely walked into their ranks, the path closed again, and the knights at the front lined up in formation and raised their shields.

They established a firm wall, declaring an inviolable territory.

Sensing they couldn’t break through by force, the crusader commander gritted his teeth.

Who would dare confront Aaron Artnal, known on the battlefield by the nickname “Black Fog”? Moreover, since the Pope had privately mobilized forces, they didn’t have many men.

Yet they couldn’t disobey the Pope’s orders either.

Their only option was to persuade through dialogue.

“Let me say once more. Honor His Holiness the Pope’s command. If you hand over the criminal, His Holiness will not hold you accountable, Young Baron.”

“If that were my intention, I wouldn’t have troubled myself to come all this way.”

“Why invite trouble? If you err, you could be punished for blasphemy. So please step aside.”

Lucilia nervously bit her nails.

Surrounded by men as big as mountains, she couldn’t see ahead. Hearing the exchange between Aaron and the crusader commander made her even more anxious.

Surely her father had mobilized Aaron’s knights. Aaron, bound by his oath of loyalty, had no choice.

Innocent people might bleed because of her. No, at this rate, precious lives would certainly be lost.

She couldn’t hide shamefully.

Even if she wasn’t a saint, as a human being, she couldn’t do that.

How could she take others’ precious lives just to save herself?

She had been branded a witch without knowing why. To have a chance to explain herself, she needed to survive somehow.

But what sin had these people committed?

Without even weighing it, every human life is precious. That was God’s benevolence.

For someone who had lived as a saint until now, it would be an action she absolutely must not take.

Rather than do something against her conscience, it would be better to sacrifice her own life.

Lucilia pushed aside the knight blocking her way.

“I’ll go out.”

“That’s not allowed.”

Far from moving, he stood even more firmly in place, protecting Lucilia.

“I need to go out so everyone will be safe. Please step aside so I can pass.”

“Impossible without the commander’s orders.”

The knight, completely blocking any possibility, exuded killing intent while watching ahead.

No matter how many times she tried to speak to them, no one responded.

Anxious, Lucilia stood on tiptoe looking for Aaron.

Eventually, she saw Aaron seated on his horse. He looked ready to spur into battle at any moment, making her heart tighten.

If she had known it would be like this, she wouldn’t have come this way in the first place…

Just as she was about to raise her voice to stop Aaron, a heavy voice carried by the dawn breeze clearly wrapped around her eardrums:

“What man would hand his wife over to the enemy?”