The Saintess's Knight

Chapter 3: Yearning beyond Death

Pure and raw anger, like the wrath of God descended.

Vincent vented all his sorrow and loathing as he swung his sword, over and over. His heart frozen as ice and his mind ablaze with a raging fire.

He shut off his breaking down conscience and forced himself to focus on ridding the world of these scumbags.

He beheaded the noblemen who had long coveted the exotic beauty of his saintess, even attempting to buy her off the church. Vincent was the only one who stood in the way, leveraging his position, otherwise the priests would have sold her off even for some meager profit.

He silenced the envious nuns and noblewomen who always berated his saintess when they crossed paths.

He stabbed the hearts of the high ranking clergy who exploited the Saintess's powers.

The cowardly 2nd prince who hid behind his attendants and knights were soon decapitated as well. To hell with charges of treason.

The mastermind, the vilest of them all was the pope. He was left to be the last, forcing him to watch the consequences of his greed. To fill him with horror and dread.

He had scrambled to the edge of the barrier, scrapping at it with his  fingernails after he soon realizing his meager holy power was useless. The priests closest to the pope tried to buy time for him to escape, yet he was unable to break through the barrier Vincent created. The pope was merely a man of political power, not of faith nor strength.

They launched every holy offence spell they could, but untrained men who wallowed in riches from bribes and often stuffed themselves full in parties stood no chance against Vincent, who had trained everyday for the past seven years with his life being on the line many times. The cracks in the shield caused by their spells would heal within seconds.

However, even Vincent had limits. He couldn't maintain a shield of this magnitude for a prolonged period. He had to finish his mission before his powers were exhausted.  

The old man screeched with every cut. It was like music to Vincent's ears. And when he slit the mans throat, silence prevailed.

Only the two of them remained. The Saintess and her knight.

Vincent walked towards his lady, his sworn master, his beloved and most precious Saintess.

The tip of his sword scraped the floor as he walked step by step to where she knelt.

'She is to kneel before no other.' Vincent frowned.

Vincent dropped his sword and threw aside his blood stained gloves. In a practiced manner, he picked her up off the floor and took her into his embrace. The blood on his armor stained her white dress as she leaned on him. Over his shoulder she quietly observed the aftermath.

He sat her at the fountain's marble bench. He dipped a clean handkerchief into the water as he gently grasped the saintess's stained hand.

He meticulously wiped finger by finger. He then kissed above her knuckles on her hand as he finally broke the silence.

"It's late, but I hope you feel better."

The saintess turned her gaze away from the corpse of the pope and stared at Vincent. He was the only thing in her eyes.

"...Have I broken you?" She whispered as her fingers lightly caressed his cheek.

Vincent gently shook his head as he grasped her hand.

"No, not at all. I have made you suffer and wait this long because of my hypocritical morality. The political method was a dead end from the start. I should have taken action sooner, I should have stopped them no matter the cost, I- I'm sorry, I am so sorry, Saintess."

He, who had turned away from blood despite his overwhelming strength, had killed so many today. Even those knights who she heard him speak fondly of.

'The cost he speaks of is, himself.' The saintess's breath got caught in her chest. Contradicting emotions swelled in her heart.

He was broken.

Just as she was.

She felt torn. Happy to have seen the ending of those who filled her life with pain and schemed to end her life; yet so very sad and sorry to have dragged down this man onto this path with her.

With a blank expression, a tear fell from the saintess's eyes.

"Why are you crying?" As bewildered as he was, Vincent gently wiped the tears streaming down on her cheeks. His voice carried hope as he spoke. "We can leave now, go somewhere far away-"

"I'm so sorry, Vincent."

For the first time in months, she said his name. Without giving him a chase to speak, she continued.

"I should have trusted you. I should have waited... We could have run away together...in search of our ever alluding 'happily ever after.'"

The saintess closed her eyes in regret as her clear tears became blood seeping out. Blood rose up in her throat as her organs burned in pain. She was being killed inside out by a potent poison.

Vincent caught her swaying body, in a panic.

"N-no...! What is this? I didn't give you actual poison, why is this happening?!"

She gave a small smile as blood trickled down the corner of her lips. She knew he would never be able to go through with that order. Even if he did, it mattered not. She just... wanted him to remember her for the rest of his life.

"I know... that's why I- Cough! Cough!"

"Annetta!!! God, please, no no no! Annetta!"

Vincent screamed like a cornered animal as the saintess's life slipped away in his hands.

Battered and bruised, he saw no way out or forward in a world without her.

Other than death.

He reached for his sword as he gently laid down the saintess, directly in front of the statue of their god.

With blood shot eyes, tears ran down his face. His lips brushed against the saintess's forehead as he made one last prayer.

"I pray... to meet you again, wherever we go. I will follow you even to the depths of hell."

Their blood gravitated towards one another, creating a river that flowed into the pond at their gods instep.