The Cowardly Baby Saint Sees Ghosts - Chapter 11

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

# Chapter 11
After a long stretch, the creature groomed itself in a patch of sunlight, dampening the back of its hand with its tongue and running it through its dark fur.
“A cat?”
The moment the word left my lips, a Status Window materialized with a soft pop, as if it had been waiting.
[Save the Crown Prince possessed by the Cat Spirit!]
Meow~ This sharp-tempered creature has quite the sensitive disposition, so do be careful.
Heavens. The Crown Prince had a Possession Constitution?
That must have been agonizing for him.
Now I understood why the Imperial Palace had gone to such lengths to conceal the Crown Prince’s condition.
“If even a woman were possessed, that would be a genuine nightmare.”
The rumor that the Crown Prince had lost his mind with grief over the death of the Empress—it all made sense now.
“I’d have done the same in his place.”
A single path revealed itself to me: a way for both of us to survive.
“Your Highness.”
I spoke to the Crown Prince in a low voice.
“I will exorcise the spirits for you, so when you grow older, please don’t have me killed.”
It was a bargain between us.
“If you don’t remember, I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it.”
I smacked my lips.
Whether he remembered or not, from this moment forward I had resolved to protect this Crown Prince from the spirits—to buy myself more time to live.
* * *
No matter how much I turned it over in my mind, I seemed to have a weakness for young children.
Saving the very man who would kill me when he grew up.
I did not approach hastily, but sat down firmly where I stood. Each time our eyes met, the Crown Prince’s hissing gradually subsided.
Whether it was my imagination or not, the fur—including his black hair—appeared to bristle.
The Crown Prince’s red irises wavered with anxiety.
Yet I remained crouched by the door, yawning slowly. Blinking deliberately, as if to say: I mean you no harm.
It was the Eye Contact Operation, so to speak.
“Don’t be so tense. I have no intention of hurting you.”
“Don’t come near me.”
“……!”
It was human speech.
As if a thread of consciousness had returned, he covered his face with his palm and muttered in a trembling voice.
“Why are you here.”
Then, perhaps having wept just a little, he wiped at his reddened eyes and retreated backward.
“I didn’t want anyone to know about this.”
“Your Highness. I can heal you—”
“Go!”
He hurled a Cushion at my side, his voice sharp.
Since it posed no real threat, I moved toward him slowly.
“Get out!”
“I can do this.”
My face devoid of any smile, I grasped both his hands. At the sudden closeness, he averted his gaze and breathed heavily.
“Your Highness. Please look into my eyes.”
I held his cold hands firmly, pouring earnestness into my voice.
“I am a Saint.”
“…….”
“No one has been able to cure you until now because I was not here.”
So now, truly, everything will be all right.
The truth was, I was approaching this partly to fill my Goodness Gauge.
‘This is far too pitiful.’
His condition was dire. Even now, to see him enslaved by a creature not human—it stripped him of all dignity.
‘I’ll think of this as repayment for borrowing his hair.’
Since I’d pulled out two more strands than I should have, removing the spirit would serve as an apology.
“Now, leave that body.”
I showed the back of my hand and lowered my posture. Careful to betray no hostile intent, I approached him deliberately.
The Crown Prince, whose claws had been extended and back arched, sniffed—a soft, tentative sound.
“……?”
Sniff-sniff. The Crown Prince drew closer to me gradually, breathing in my scent.
Animals use their sense of smell to discern hostility and emotion in others, or so I’d heard. It was true.
“Oh.”
His forehead brushed against the back of my hand.
At the soft, scorching warmth of his skin, we both held our breath.
I gazed at him carefully, frozen in place, then gently brushed aside his tousled hair and began to stroke it slowly.
As his well-maintained, silken hair wound around my fingers, I felt a flush of embarrassment creep in.
Even if he was a cat, he wore a human form—was I overstepping some line?
“There, there. Good boy.”
I was afraid he might scratch or bite me without warning, but I kept up the gentle stroking, feigning composure.
The moment Demian leaned his head into my touch, blinking up at me—
“…!”
A brilliant light flashed, and my Status Window shimmered. The cute design from before now featured cat ears added to it.
Boom, boom. Fireworks erupted noisily, and I grimaced.
[Quest completed!]
[You have earned Demian’s trust and reputation. From now on, your words will carry an inexplicable credibility.]
[Your relationship with Demian has improved. He has found the one person who truly understands him. Since he requires your abilities, use this to your advantage.]
[Goodness Gauge increases by 10.]
[Current value: 27 / 1000]
“Whew, success.”
I let out a sigh of relief, but Demian still hadn’t regained consciousness.
From the limp body of Demian, a cheese-colored cat with a faint blue glow leaped out from his back.
[Demian’s Possession Constitution cannot be cured by [???].]
Try awakening him by channeling Divine Power into him!
“What? How am I supposed to do that?”
This was my first time channeling Divine Power into someone.
* * *
Demian Bellium, the Crown Prince, had suffered his entire life at the hands of formless entities.
Strangely, for certain hours within each twenty-four-hour cycle, he could live like a normal person, but the rest of the time he was forced to exist as another personality.
The most shameful part was that even as his body was controlled by something, fragments of memory would surface here and there. Demian knew full well how people looked at him, what he represented within the Imperial Palace.
There was, however, one thing everyone overlooked.
He was still only seven years old.
The reason he hadn’t lost his mind was the Temple. Only there could he live like himself, regardless of time.
That was why.
When he encountered that grimy child the day he’d spoken harshly to the Pope and left the Temple, his resentment flared the moment he heard the word “Saint.”
God’s daughter. That child.
If she truly was a Saint, it meant God hadn’t abandoned humanity after all.
‘Then what about me?’
If God truly existed, why had He allowed me to suffer like this?
From head to toe, the child was pure white. Her skin was transparent and pale as porcelain, her silver hair gleamed in the sunlight as if shattered into fragments of light, and the violet eyes visible between those locks were beautiful as gemstones.
A being as finely crafted by God as one could imagine.
Demian was furious.
That such a noble-looking existence should highlight his own miserable fate only made everything worse.
That was why.
“Get out!”
Why.
Why did it have to be you, of all people.
Having his secret witnessed by the one person he’d rather die than reveal it to—the humiliation was indescribable.
With memories fragmenting in and out, he hadn’t even caught what the Saint had said.
Demian slowly lifted his sealed eyelids.
His brow furrowed against the sudden flood of light, and then—
“…!”
The Saint came into view, clutching both his hands as he lay there, murmuring something urgently.
A cool force swirled actively through his emptied body, awakening every cell, so he couldn’t get up even if he tried.
Demian simply stared blankly at Diane.
Though there was no breeze, her overflowing Divine Power sent her silver hair dancing around her. As her long lashes trembled, she seemed determined not to be distracted, drawing her hands closer.
“……”
There was an odd sensation somewhere inside him.
No one had ever prayed for him like this before.
“The reason no one has been able to heal you until now is because I did not exist.”
Had those words been sincere?
Her delicate features, so tightly composed, were somehow… a little cute.
In that moment, Diane’s lips—like a pair of red cherries—parted slightly, and her eyes opened just a crack.
Demian Bellium shut his eyes in a panic.
‘Why did I close my eyes?’
He pushed away the question and focused all his attention on Diane’s reaction. The moment a cool sensation reached his fingertips, the grip with which she’d been clutching his hand began to loosen.
“Ah.”
Diane released the tension from her entire body and murmured something.
“What is it? Has she not woken yet?”
‘Who is she talking to?’
Diane continued muttering to herself.
“It’s true—her body was empty. I think it’ll be safer if we keep replenishing it regularly.”
It seemed she was describing her own condition.
Demian really didn’t want to wake up.
“Does the effect not show immediately?”
But he felt her gaze fixed intently on his face, making it impossible to keep up the pretense any longer.
Eventually, he stirred and pushed himself upright. As he stumbled backward, his eyes met the Saint’s—she was hastily releasing his hand.
“……?”
What was that?
Demian looked down at his hand, which she had just been holding, and fell silent for a moment.
Why did he feel a sudden sense of loss?
“Y-you’re awake, Your Highness?”
Seeing Diane ask awkwardly, her face flushed, he felt his own face grow hot as well.
“……What’s happening?”
“Fortunately, I’ve separated the spirit, but if Divine Power isn’t replenished periodically, ultimately nothing will truly change.”
“…….”
Keep doing this, then.
Demian murmured to himself.
He could feel that the entities which had been moving his body at will had completely vanished.
Instead, he felt refreshed and unburdened—for the first time in the Imperial Palace, he was maintaining his clarity of mind.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
He gave no thought to the dignity of his station.
“I’m finally free.”
“No. You’re not yet free—”
“Finally……!”
Diane, about to say something, closed her mouth instead. All she could do was awkwardly pat his trembling shoulders.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————