I never thought a day would come when I'd fall in love.
To be honest, the idea seemed impossible. To think such a day would come, I laughed to myself.
My name is Cecilia. I grew up as an orphan in the Holy Church Nation of Gandale.
On a snowy day, someone left me as a baby in front of a children's home. The nun who found me said my name was written on my swaddling cloth — "Cecilia." Nothing else. No message, no mark, nothing.
They told me that Cecilia was a noble's name, not one common among ordinary people. The cloth was of fine quality too. Maybe I was born to a noble family. Still, the parents who abandoned me had nothing to do with who I was.
Gandale is a theocracy, so every church runs its own orphanage. Compared to other nations, orphans here live in better conditions since the church provides care and education.
The priests and sisters taught us reading, writing, and basic magic. I studied hard, whether I planned to work outside or become a nun one day. The church had a small library, open even to orphans. I couldn't afford anything else, so I spent all my free time reading.
There, I discovered stories — tales of heroes, princes, and brave knights. As an orphan girl, I began to dream of love with such a man. One day, I believed, my hero or prince would come for me.
So, I tried to act like a proper lady — I helped the healers, cooked, sewed, and studied everything I could.
The church allowed gifted orphans to assist healers and learn healing magic in return. We wrapped bandages, fetched water, and in exchange, learned the sacred arts. Only those with magical aptitude were chosen. Other nations wouldn't allow this kind of training.
I was lucky. I had talent. Soon after starting, I managed to cast Heal.
From there, things moved quickly. At five years old, I was already treating light wounds as a healer apprentice.
One day, Sister smiled at me. "Cecilia," she said gently, "you're fully qualified now! You can call yourself a healer starting today."
"Eh? Why so soon?" I asked.
"If you can use High Heal, that makes you a healer," she explained. "Church rules say so."
"But I'm still a child... this feels too heavy," I admitted.
"You won't be alone," she reassured me. "The other healers will guide you. Trust yourself."
"Then... I'll do my best," I replied.
From that day, I worked among the healers. I even got my own room — quite the luxury for someone who started as an orphan.
By eight, I was well-known across Gandale. I could cast every healing spell except Perfect Heal. Only a handful in the church could match my skill. When I turned ten, I received an award as the best healer in the nation.
Even His Holiness, Pope Rothman, relied on me. During the Coming-of-Age ceremony, my divine job was revealed — Saint.
From then on, the Pope treated me like his own daughter. But because of my title, countless suitors came. Men who once ignored me now fought for my attention. I grew bitter.
If I am to marry, it must be a Hero, I decided. If no Hero appeared, I would devote my life to the church.
The Pope understood. He rejected every proposal on my behalf. Thanks to him, they eventually gave up.
* * *
Then, one day, a boy with the Hero's job arrived from the Kingdom of Dhamar — Alto.
He was small, silver-haired, and far too adorable. So this is Hero-sama... I nearly drooled.
When a Hero sets out to defeat the Demon King, three special jobs must join him — Saint, Sage, and Sword Saint. It was perfect. This is fate, I thought.
I could hardly wait. We'll defeat the Demon King, then live happily ever after together. Saints and Heroes were destined to be united.
Our party — Hero Alto, Sage Rosalie, Sword Saint Frey (a woman with unmatched skill), and I — became known as the White Wings. Our goal: to defeat Demon King Luciferd.
Rosalie proposed our battle plan. We would avoid the Four Heavenly Kings, including Mammon, and strike the Demon King's Castle directly, supported by diversionary knights. Sensible — Mammon was a monster, after all.
The plan worked. We faced the Demon King himself — just the four of us.
But we underestimated him.
Even Frey's sword art, Zantetsu, couldn't pierce his defenses. Alto's secret move, Wings of Light, was swatted aside.
Then Rosalie shouted her spell.
"This is the Sage's ultimate art—Explo—ahhh!" Rosalie cried.
"Don't think your worn-out tricks will work forever," Luciferd said coldly. "Hellfire!"
Flames engulfed Rosalie before my eyes.
I tried to cast Perfect Heal.
"Perfect Hea—kyaaa!" I screamed.
"Denied," Luciferd said. "Thousand Needles!"
A thousand glowing spears struck me before I could complete the spell. Pain shot through my body; I couldn't move.
We never stood a chance, I realized. The Demon King's power was beyond anything we imagined.
Alto's desperate voice reached me.
"Frey! I misjudged everything—this is my fault! Rosalie's gone! Take Cecilia and run!" Alto shouted.
He was ready to die, but I couldn't move. So frustrating... He was the first man I ever loved, and now he was about to die.
"Do you think I'll let you escape?" Luciferd sneered.
"There's one last move I haven't used yet... Frey, Cecilia—goodbye! Run! This is my final art—Light's Ruin!" Alto declared.
Alto shouted and ran straight toward the Demon King Luciferd, throwing his arms around him.
In that instant, his entire body blazed with light—and exploded.
Blood and flesh rained across the chamber. Luciferd lost half his body, yet still lived.
"Unforgivable... I will not forgive this!" Luciferd roared.
His voice shook the air. He survived that? I thought in disbelief.
Frey didn't hesitate. She hoisted me over her shoulder and fled. Luciferd screamed behind us, but didn't give chase. Maybe luck was on our side. Still, feeling relieved shamed me.
But soon, waves of demons swarmed after us. They caught up.
"We're done for... I'm sorry, Cecilia," Frey said grimly.
"Don't apologize. You should've left me," I replied.
"No way. I couldn't," she said.
She set me down and raised her sword. So this is how our adventure ends.
"High Heal... haa... I'm out of mana..." I gasped.
Still, if I could take even one more demon with me...
I used the last of my magic on Frey. Then, darkness took me.
"Don't think you'll kill me easily! I'll drag every last one of you down with me!" Frey shouted furiously.
Her voice echoed as my consciousness faded.
* * *
When I awoke, only awareness returned—my body felt heavy and numb. Frey was drenched in blood that wasn't her own.
"It's no use... I can't swing anymore..." Frey breathed raggedly.
Her sword trembled in her hand. This is the end, I thought.
"Cecilia..." Frey whispered weakly.
I wanted to answer, but my lips wouldn't move. She fell soon after. Both of us... were finished.
Then, I heard a whisper in my mind.
Holy Wall.
A brilliant barrier formed before us, shielding our bodies from the approaching demons.
Another voice followed.
Absolute Zero.
A sudden chill swept from behind, and the demons froze solid before my eyes.
What... is happening?
A crazed laugh split the air.
Ahahaha! Moonlight Flash!
A short-haired woman darted through the horde, cutting demons like paper. She moved so fast, her afterimage blurred the air.
Ogre God Stone-Cleaver!
Her blade carved through enemies in a flash. The scene felt like a dream. No human could fight like this... right?
Then another voice chanted.
Robe.
Frey collapsed, her strength gone. Two figures rushed forward and lifted us both.
Relief washed over me, and I surrendered to sleep.
* * *
When I next awoke, two girls stood by my bed.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" a black-haired girl asked.
"Wait... I'm alive?" I replied.
"Of course you are!" a brown-haired girl said. "You and the other saint barely made it, but you're both alive!"
A black-haired girl and a brown-haired short-haired one smiled down at me. I still couldn't move, so I listened quietly as they spoke with Frey.
"Who... are you?" I asked weakly.
"I'm Shizuko!" the black-haired girl said.
"I'm Haruka! And those two behind us are Misaki and Sayo!" the brown-haired girl added.
"I see... what about Alto and Rosalie?" Frey asked.
The girls shook their heads.
Rosalie... Alto...
"...I understand," Frey said.
Even these strong women couldn't have defeated the Demon King. Escaping alive was already a miracle.
Still, Alto... my first love ended before I could even confess it.
"Why did you come all the way to the Demon King's Castle to save us?" I asked.
"We're adventurers, after all!" all four adventurers said in unison.
Apparently, they were a rising adventurer team. They'd been hired for a rescue mission, though their client's name was kept secret—probably Pope Rothman himself.
* * *
Luciferd survived, but his wounds stopped the demon army's advance. A temporary truce followed.
Alto and Rosalie's deaths brought mourning across the nations. Two weeks of grief.
Frey barely held herself together until the funeral. When the rites began—without their bodies—she broke down completely.
"Uuuhhh... aaaaaaaahhh!" Frey wept uncontrollably.
Afterward, I returned to the church. Alto's loss weighed heavier than I expected. I couldn't bring myself to work.
Shizuko visited.
"How are you holding up?" Shizuko asked.
"Do I look fine?" I retorted.
"Not really," she admitted.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"The Pope asked me to check on you!" Shizuko said. "You're a saint, remember? A healer's hands are meant to save people, not sit idle."
Before I could answer, she dragged me straight to the treatment room.
"W-wait—" I protested.
"Come on! Let's heal someone!" Shizuko said.
Somewhere deep down, my pride as a saint stirred again. Before I knew it, I stood before a patient, casting Heal.
Days passed as Shizuko and I treated countless patients together. She wasn't a saint, so she couldn't use Perfect Heal, but she knew dozens of other spells—many I'd never even heard of—and taught them all freely.
But there was one spell she couldn't use: Robe.
Even so, her vast knowledge and compassion inspired me. Before long, I began calling her Master.
Soon, Haruka, Misaki, and Sayo often dropped by too. Surrounded by them, I slowly recovered as a healer.
Once I was back on my feet, Shizuko and her team said their farewells.
"We've got another job," Shizuko said, smiling. "Take care, okay?"
After they left, I stayed in the church, healing the sick as a saint. Over time, people began to call me the Pope's right hand.
As for marriage... I lost all interest. I no longer believed I could love another man.
"As the goddess's servant, I'll devote my life to healing," I said quietly.
I asked the Pope to reject every proposal for me. Men often said I resembled Ishtas, the goddess's messenger, and many sought my hand—but I felt nothing for any of them.
* * *
And yet... somehow, I fell in love again.
"But I can't help it..." I whispered.
The one I loved this time wasn't just a man—it was Ceres-sama, the hero who became divine. A man closer to godhood than anyone.
Just thinking of him made me drool uncontrollably.
"Ceres-sama... does it feel good? You feel good, don't you?" I asked.
Shamefully, I found myself atop him, moving on my own. But as his servant, it was only natural for me to serve him.
"Ahh... Cecilia... hahh..." Ceres breathed.
Notes:
• Cecilia - Former saintess. Ceres' wife.