When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#427 - Juanno? Horn?

"Didn't she just get better? Why is she failing again? What kind of medical skills do you have?!"

"Impossible, let me see... Hiss, how about we use divine magic to keep her alive for now while I do some research."

"This is a witch, you know?! What kind of life can divine magic sustain?! Is this saving her or killing her?"

Faint, distant voices stirred Catherine from her daze, but she couldn't utter a single sound.

She felt as if she were floating in mid-air, her entire body plummeting towards the sky.

Rampant magic crystallized her blood and organs bit by bit, these tiny crystals congealing within Catherine's flesh, draining her last bit of life force.

Even a witch's heaven-defying vitality and physique couldn't stop life from continuously flowing out of her.

"Hey, could it be that the blood-sucking vines absorbed your blood and transferred it into this witch's body, which is why it was effective before?"

"Their blood types might not even be the same, stop giving bad ideas. How about trying oral blood administration? Maybe it's not the blood itself, but the magic power that's the issue, though I don't know if it'll be in time."

"Didn't you say last time that administering medicine through the back door is twice as effective as oral absorption? We can give her an enema! If you want even higher efficiency, one drop of essence is worth ten drops of blood..."

Hearing this, even with Catherine's consciousness fading, the word 'enema' made her summon all her strength to stop them: "No, don't..."

She didn't know if the healers heard her clearly, as Catherine lost the ability to speak once more.

This was the first time she prayed to the Holy Lord, hoping the healers would hear her words.

However, in her blurry consciousness, she did hear the young man scolding the shaman, which brought her some comfort.

She waited for an unknown amount of time, perhaps a second or perhaps an hour. She could no longer feel the passage of time, simply closing her eyes quietly.

Then, a drop of warm liquid flowed into her mouth from her lips.

With just this one drop of metallic-tasting liquid, Catherine felt her dying body regain a few sparks of life.

Her previously exhausted internal organs began to function again, the solidified blood crystallized and flowed throughout her body once more with the pounding of her heart.

Catherine greedily raised her chin, sucking the bleeding finger into her mouth with her plump, pale lips.

Her soft tongue licked the finger insatiably, tasting the saltiness on her tongue.

As drops of blood flowed into her mouth, the rampant, berserk magic power within Catherine gradually regained order.

All those violent forces were poured into the few remaining blood-sucking vines clinging to her body.

When the blood-sucking vines fell from Catherine's body, a few patches of rosy color finally appeared on her previously pale face.

The finger dripping with strange blood was finally pulled back, leaving behind a long trail of saliva.

Losing that feeling of being filled, Catherine felt several shamans and nuns surround her, beginning to clean her wounds in a sense of loss.

Finally, they poured a bowl of garlic-smelling potion down her throat.

Catherine's consciousness plunged into darkness once more.

............

"Catherine, Catherine?"

Who, who is calling me? Catherine suddenly raised her head.

"Catherine, run away! Catherine—"

Her mother, wearing a linen dress, was pressed onto the table by several robber deserters, shouting desperately.

This was the day her home's small courtyard was invaded by deserters.

This scene, which had appeared countless times in her dreams, made Catherine numbly reach out her hand, and weeds from the floor tiles stretched out, strangling the soldiers to death.

Only when her body uncontrollably ran into her mother's embrace could she feel her mother's body stiff and cold.

"I'm sorry, Mom is sorry for you, sorry..."

Her mother's soft whispers came from her ear, and when her arms opened, it was already the deep forest outside the city.

Bears, wolves, and even wild dogs surrounded her, and her only food was a few pieces of black bread in her backpack.

She walked and walked in the forest, snagged by branches, bitten by wild dogs. The bread was eaten, and the few remaining copper coins only bought her a cup of water.

Until she met a group of refugee families, these kind families accepted her, let her follow them, and even shared the food they begged for with her.

Looking at those warm faces, Catherine really didn't know what expression to make. She already knew her final fate.

"Get away, witch! Get away! You deserve to go to hell, you beast!"

"Catch her, catch her! That's a witch! Catching a live one is worth at least a knight's title."

Those familiar refugees raised their torches high, and Catherine ran through the bushes, the witchers stepping on the soft snow, chasing relentlessly like ghosts.

Until she saw a cliff, she jumped down, tumbling into the icy lake, shivering as she climbed out, finally saving her life.

Looking up again, Catherine's emotions finally fluctuated.

A middle-aged priest in a black monk's robe, with graying temples, held an oil lamp and sat by the campfire, smiling as he handed her a small box.

"Want to eat a cookie?"

"Teacher—" It seemed all the grievances turned into tears and flowed out. Catherine moved her short legs and pounced on him, but she missed.

Only a dissipating cloud of smoke.

The following scenes became faster and faster, Hu An'nuo's face, Mo Liya's face, Miteni's face, Karl's face, Sisi's face, Fuleidian's face flashed before her eyes one by one.

"Catherine, Catherine, stop reading, you'll ruin your eyes." It was Mo Liya's voice.

"Catherine, ah, I remember your father, Meford Megedi, are you his illegitimate daughter? Just took over his chamber of commerce?" It was Fuleidian's voice.

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"Damn it, she's cheating, why does she have so many Qianhong flowers?" It was Miteni's voice, who was still Catherine's competitor at the time, breaking down.

"Greetings to you, I am Karl, the knight commander of the Kush Black Knights, Karl!" It was the young Karl who joined the Megedi Chamber of Commerce under Hu An'nuo's introduction at that time.

Countless voices gathered in her ears, so near, so far, the scenes of memories in the dream changed faster and faster, and finally fixed on a final picture.

That was the night she went to visit Hu An'nuo, and at that time she had not realized how cruel the things she was going to do were.

Finally, that night, she turned her back to the prison and left. At this moment, she finally heard the last sentence Hu An'nuo said behind her.

"I have taught you everything I should teach you. I am old, and the rest is up to you."

At the moment when Catherine turned her head, the orphaned Catherine's grandfather Hu An'nuo, who picked up rubbish, jumped into the fire pile erected by the church.

In that raging fire, she did not wait for Mo Liya's rescue. Catherine, who was held by the maids, could only hold back her tears and watch the old man, who was both a teacher and a father, be burned alive.

"No, no - teacher, teacher... teacher?"

Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes, Catherine suddenly stretched out her hand, but only grabbed the flower cloth bed curtain in front of her.

The wind outside the window blew the bed curtain back and forth, the closed window pages were blown by the wind and hit the window frame, and the bustling noise of the people gradually became clear.

In the blurry vision, the original clear colorful brilliance of the colored flower windows turned into countless yellow, green, white and blue halos, squeezing in front of her eyes.

Supporting the soft velvet mattress, Catherine just sat up, and there was actually a feeling of weakness and dizziness.

In this dizziness, Catherine lifted the bed curtain blocking her sight.

Beside the white wood four-poster bed, a priest in a black monk's robe was sitting on a peach wood chair with a wheat straw cushion. He had a book on his lap, and from time to time he would pick up a cookie and stuff it into his mouth.

For a moment, Catherine thought she was still in the Bragg Monastery, just waking up from her afternoon nap.

And the teacher was sitting by the window, quietly reading "The Story of the Nun in Distress" that he had scavenged from the market.

There was no killing and fire, no betrayal and intrigue, only that sunny afternoon without a trace of trivial matters in her heart.

It seemed that everything she had experienced before was a fantasy dream of that afternoon.

The black figure in front of her corresponded one by one to the black-robed monk Hu An'nuo in her memory, and she seemed to be that little girl again.

Catherine hurriedly grabbed the glasses from the head of the bed and put them on her tear-blurred eyes, and rushed towards the figure in the halo.

"Teacher—"

The plump meat bomb hit his chest, and a pair of white arms wrapped around his neck, scaring Horn so much that cookie crumbs almost sprayed out of his nostrils.

Holding the soft waist in his arms, at a loss for three full seconds, he reluctantly patted Catherine on the back and pushed away this witch Catherine who was so enthusiastic at their first meeting.

"Catherine aunt, there is something wrong with the prescription of your glasses, I am not Mr. Hu An'nuo."

"You, you are, who are you?" Rubbing the corners of her eyes, Catherine let go of her hand, she seemed to be still in a dream and had not woken up, and sat blankly on Horn's lap, "What did you call me?"

"Call you aunt, you are a round older than me." Horn put the book aside, and introduced himself almost face to face, "I have long heard of the name of Megedi Rose, and I am fortunate to meet you today. I am Horn Galar, the one in the church's propaganda—"

"Monster Horn?" Catherine was still in a daze, and numbly held Horn's gauze-wrapped finger in her little hand painted with rose nail polish.

"It's Holy Grandson, Horn." Horn corrected.