Chapter 182: 182 I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Saint Mattia's hair stuck to her cheeks with sweat. Breathing hard on her shoulders, she brought a few sips of water to her lips.

The cool sensation seemed to numb her parched mouth and throat. My throat coughed for a moment, as if it had gotten into my airway.

As he calmed his breathing, he rubbed his bloodied fingertips together, but the stain would not come off. It seems that the blood has stuck to his fingertips after so many times of exposure. With no choice, Mattia stopped touching his fingers together.

The water available here is limited. You can't waste it just to wash your hands. When I return to Garouamalia, I will not only wash my hands, but I will also bathe in the water. It must be refreshing to comb your hair for the first time in a long time.

Mattia's ears twitched sensitively in response to the anticipation in his chest. The sound of quiet breathing hit her earlobes.

When she regains consciousness, give her just enough water to moisten her mouth. And don't forget to apply the herbs when you bandage her.

I say, looking over at Vestaline, who is lying on her bed with her heavy eyelids closed. The herald beside her nodded deeply and placed a vial of water beside the bed.

Mattia, keeping his eyes on the scene, shuffles out of the healing area where the wounded are piled up. She couldn't let them leave her completely, but she could allow them to breathe a little.

The cold air stings Mattia's cheeks. A gasp escaped her lips as her lungs filled up. It must have been a long time coming. It made her feel lighter.

Vestaline, the Iron and Steel Princess. I still don't know if she'll live long enough. At the very least, she would need to be taken to someone who had learned the art of medicine once her condition had settled down.

Still, for the time being, I managed to weave a thin thread of life out of it.

Without realizing it, Mattia's eyebrows relaxed. She could feel the power draining from her face. You can find a lot of things that you can do to make your life easier. It's really not like that.

You've seen people live and die over and over again in your mind's eye. You've seen it all before, and you've used your calculations to make sense of it. And now you're obsessed with the destination of a single life. It's really not like you.

Anyway, as for Vestalines, I just hope the demon hasn't gotten into her wounds yet. There is no way to help her if she has been infiltrated by a rotting disease that has entered her flesh from the inside out.

A heavy breath escaped Mattia's lips again. This time, she did not feel her body lighten.

--So this is what a saint is like.

Perhaps it was because it had been so long since I had touched the light of life. Her heart seemed to be strangely sentimental. Mattia leaned against the wall of the house, unable to even mock himself anymore.

When I was a child, I thought that if I knew more and became wiser, I would be able to lead and save more people, and that's what I was taught by those around me.

Of course, the more I grew up and the more I learned, the more I understood that this was not true, and I knew that ideals do not exist in this world. However, for some reason, I could not get rid of the illusion of the existence of saints. Apparently, I was very dreamy when I was a child.

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When I was a child, I believed that we are all born to be happy. But I mistakenly thought that something had gone wrong and I had fallen into unhappiness. I was blindly convinced that if I knew everything and became a saint, I would be able to hold everything in my hands.

Yes, back then, I wanted to believe that there was magic that could win justice, that there were miracles that could bring people back to life, that the world was full of wonderful things.

Well, look at us. And what do we have now? If the me of my childhood could see me now, I'm sure he would exclaim. With a crumpled face, tears in his eyes, and a dry throat, he would say.

--Such a person is not a saint.

Her lips wavered. It must be so, it must be so. I'm far from an ideal saint right now. After all, I have to pray for luck to save a single life in front of me. It makes me laugh to think that I am a saint.

If you call yourself a saint, you should be able to save a life or two easily. I don't know how long it's been since I became one of the heraldic leaders. Instead of saving lives, I became a selector and a cutter.

More efficient, more utilitarian. How to make the whole more prosperous. What I was doing was not so different from those who call themselves rulers of the world. I just lived my life thinking about how to keep the organization running smoothly. I have thrown away my childhood thoughts in the busyness of life. And I told myself that it was the right thing to do.

Shameful. I thought I'd already sorted everything out in this skull. I don't know what Lugis will say if he hears me worrying about this now. Will she say I'm not like her? She'd probably say she's surprised you have any problems at all.

Oh, God. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have to worry about this. If only you hadn't kept reaching for the ideal.

Now, as she takes in the cool air into her lungs again, Mattia narrows her eyes. That's enough rest for me. I'm used to moving my body even when I'm exhausted, from my experience when I was underground. It's a good thing that I'm not the only one.

In addition, Lugis must have been brought here by now. In any case, there's no way that he'll be unharmed after jumping into the thorns himself. The path that Lugis chooses is not so smooth that his body and mind will remain unscathed. He is that kind of person. That is the kind of person he is, and that is the only way he can choose to live.

That's why I have to carve my existence deeply into Rougis again. The scars you may have sustained again are good material for that. After all, it's a sign that you broke your promise to me.

I'll embarrass you to no end. After all, he's made me nervous so many times, no need to go easy on him. I'm sure he doesn't want to be manipulated. Besides, I made a promise to him.

The thought of the joy that would follow made Mattia's cheeks lift, despite the fatigue that was building up in her body.

It might be a little hard for Lugis. But it is natural, it is unavoidable. It is to guide him. It must be an act of backing off in order to let Lugis take the right path.

It's a duty I have to fulfill. When Lugis is wounded, I will scar him anew with my words. Never to be forgotten. So that he can live only in the cage of my words, my will.

Otherwise, this Lugis will quickly find himself on a dangerous path. He's like a walking spitfire. You really can't help it.

--Rougis. If you want to pursue your ideals, fine. But until then, you'll have to let me lead the way.

I'm sure you're not the only one who has a problem with this. The meaning of this was not clear to Mattia.

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