“I'm sorry,” Leticia whispered.
Lin Ling was taken aback. “Eh?”
Leticia lowered her eyes, finally pulling herself out of those chaotic memories.
“I was... thinking about some things.”
Her voice was still a bit hoarse.
“I've never been to a place like this before.”
Lin Ling looked at her.
Even though Sia was dressed in rags and had dust on her face, there was a strange sense of poise in her movements as she spoke.
When she bowed her head to apologize, the angle of her shoulders, the position of her fingers, and even the way she lowered her eyes seemed like they had been trained since childhood.
Lin Ling blinked.
“How strange.”
Leticia looked up. “What is it?”
Lin Ling rested her chin on her hand, looking at her seriously.
“Sia, your mannerisms are like those of a noble.”
Leticia's body stiffened slightly.
Lin Ling didn't notice and continued, “It's like... even though you're in a rough state, you still subconsciously maintain etiquette when apologizing.”
She tilted her head.
“It's like you're covered in a layer of mist.”
“I can't quite see clearly.”
Leticia's fingers tightened slightly.
Mist.
She suddenly felt that description was very accurate.
Perhaps she had never seen herself clearly either.
Saintess. God's favorite. Mother's useful daughter.
These things were like layers of pure white gauze wrapped around her.
From the outside, they were magnificent, holy, and inviolable.
But once peeled away?
What was inside?
She didn't know.
So, she wanted to find out now.
Leticia looked up at the dilapidated street.
“Lin Ling.”
“Hmm?”
“Can you walk with me for a bit?”
Her voice was soft.
“I want to see this place that I've never seen before.”
Lin Ling blinked. “Rested enough?”
Leticia nodded. “Yes.”
Lin Ling stood up immediately and brushed the dust off her skirt.
“Of course.”
“Actually, I want to take a good look around here too.”
As she spoke, she reached out to Leticia again. “Then let's wander around together!”
Leticia looked at that hand.
This was the second time Lin Ling had reached out to her.
The first time, she had been like a drowning person grabbing a floating plank.
But this time, she didn't hesitate.
She placed her hand in Lin Ling's.
“Okay,” she replied softly.
The corners of her mouth curved up ever so slightly.
It was a tired, fragile smile, but one that finally held a hint of warmth.
...
In the meeting room, the atmosphere remained heavy.
It was so heavy that fine cracks began to appear silently on the cups on the table.
Aliviel had beads of sweat on her forehead.
While maintaining the Dream Dust analysis, she secretly used a magic transmission to poke Cecil.
“Cecil.”
“Yeah?”
“Why does it feel like the pressure is getting stronger and stronger?”
Cecil manipulated the formation expressionlessly.
“Aliviel.”
“Yes?”
“If you don't want to be hanging from the clock tower on the roof of the Demon King's Castle tomorrow, you should hurry up and crack this.”
Aliviel: “...”
Cecil added, “Besides, I feel like the pressure is even heavier on my side.”
Aliviel glanced at Ivelia out of the corner of her eye.
The Demon King stood before the magic screen.
Her face was dark, her expression calm.
The magic in her hands was also extremely stable as she dismantled the dream's boundaries.
She didn't seem out of control—at least on the surface.
But when Lin Ling reached out to Leticia again on the screen, and Leticia took her hand—
The floor of the meeting room shook slightly.
If one had to describe it, the Demon King had “accidentally” let a sliver of her pressure leak out.
Truly just a sliver.
Then, the formation in front of Cecil was nearly crushed flat.
Cecil was silent for a moment. “See? I told you it's heavier on my side.”
Baroque stood to the side, his brow furrowed.
Looking at the two girls walking hand-in-hand on the screen, his expression wasn't great.
Niya also stared at Lin Ling's hand. She whispered, “The Saintess is just trying to help her, r-right?”
No one argued. Ivelia didn't speak either.
However, the flow of magic in the meeting room grew even quieter and more suppressed.
Phelan looked down and took notes.
—Lin Ling takes the initiative to contact Leticia in the dream.
—A slight fluctuation occurs in the Demon King's pressure.
He paused his pen here. Then, he very cautiously added a line:
—Suspected to be caused by environmental factors.
...
In the dream, Lin Ling led Leticia along the dilapidated street.
The further they went, the more the noise of the commercial street faded.
The eaves by the road were low, walls were cracked, and windows were covered with old cloth.
Children huddled at the entrances of alleys. Seeing strangers approach, their first instinct wasn't curiosity, but to hide as much as possible, as if trying to bury themselves in the shadows.
Lin Ling walked slowly.
She still held the shopping bag in her arms.
The aroma of food occasionally drifted out, drawing the silent gazes of several children.
Lin Ling noticed. She looked down at the bag, then up at the children.
But before she could speak, the clanking of armor suddenly came from the end of the street.
A few patrolmen walked over from the intersection.
Though they were called patrolmen, Lin Ling didn't think they looked the part.
Their gait was lazy, their hands rested on their sword hilts.
Their eyes didn't look like they were maintaining order. They were less like soldiers and more like thugs in armor.
The people on the street immediately lowered their heads.
The children, in particular, scrambled to the walls.
Only one little boy was a step too slow. He was clutching something wrapped in a rag and had just run across the middle of the road, right in front of one of the soldiers.
The soldier frowned. “Out of the way.”
He didn't even stop. He simply drew his scabbard and swung it violently.
Smack!
The scabbard struck the boy hard.
The child was sent flying, crashing into a wooden bucket by the road.
The bucket overturned, spilling murky water everywhere.
“Ugh...” The boy curled up in pain but didn't dare to cry out loud.
The soldier didn't even give him a second look.
“Block the way again, and I'll break your legs.”
The other soldiers laughed.
“Kids in a place like this—beating them is for nothing.”
“It's their fault for not having eyes to see the road.”
They simply walked past. No one dared to stop them. No one dared to curse.
Even the boy's mother only rushed out to pull him into her arms, covering his mouth tightly to keep him from making a sound.
Lin Ling stood there, her fingers slowly tightening, her expression turning dark.
“This is just...”
She didn't finish. Because she felt Leticia beside her stop.
Leticia stared at the soldiers' backs. Her face was deathly pale.
She recognized the armor they wore. Not just the armor. She even recognized one of the men.
Not long ago, a blessing ceremony was held at the White Tower.
A group of capital patrolmen were arranged to stand under the Holy Light.
They stood in neat rows, heads bowed, their faces full of gratitude and piety.
At that time, she had stood on the high platform, raising her hand to sprinkle the Holy Light.
The pure white light fell on their armor, as if plating them in a holy radiance.
They had said in unison: “Our thanks to Her Eminence the Saintess.”
The soldier who had just struck the child with his scabbard had been standing in that very light.
Leticia remembered him.
Because he had looked up at her then. His gaze was respectful, bright, and filled with reverence for the Saintess.
But just now?
He hadn't even looked at the child. It was like he had just kicked a stone out of the way.
Leticia slowly turned her head to look at the little boy being held by his mother.
The child was terribly thin. His face was covered in dust. There were tears in his eyes, but he didn't dare to cry out.
She had never seen such a child before. No. She had. She had seen many.
It was just that those children never appeared at the White Tower's blessing ceremonies.
They usually stood much further away. Under the judgment platform. Looking at her with eyes full of hatred.
She used to think those were the eyes of Filthy Ones.
Now, she was suddenly unsure.
Was it really filth in those eyes? Or was it the despair of those who could no longer pray after being trampled into the mud over and over again?
When the soldiers had thrown her into the trash heap and kicked her, had her own eyes looked like that too?
Leticia stood there in a daze.
In her mind, the faces she had once ignored began to surface one by one.
They were usually below the platform, looking at her with eyes full of hatred.
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