The world was shrouded in darkness. At some point, the clouds had quietly hidden the twinkling stars and bright moon in the sky.
Rain fell gently and steadily, sliding off the rooftops, eventually gathering into trickling streams on the white stone-paved ground.
In the distance, silent flashes of blue lightning flickered among the clouds.
Asia, seemingly aware that it was raining outside, closed the window after poking her little head out.
"Whew! The rain's pretty heavy tonight. Good thing I finished my bath early."
Having just bathed, Asia's body still carried a light mist. Her hair was damp, and she was dressed in a pink nightgown that resembled a dress.
The nightgown was printed with cute teddy bear patterns, and its hem reached below her knees, modestly wrapping her well-developed figure.
"Before sleeping, I must pray to the Lord!"
Sitting in a duck-like posture on her soft bed, Asia drew a cross over her chest.
For some reason, her thoughts kept drifting back to that man she had met earlier in the afternoon—the one whose presence made her feel so warm and at ease.
Only when praying to the Lord could she calm the strange, pounding beat of her heart.
But just then, a cry for help reached her ears.
"...Help, help me!"
"Can someone... please save me!"
Such cries suddenly entered Asia's ears, jolting her out of her devout prayer.
"That's strange, is someone injured?!"
Asia hurriedly got out of bed, slipped on her slippers, and went off in search of the source of the voice.
"Help..."
As she walked, the voice grew increasingly weak, which made Asia all the more anxious and sped up her steps.
"...me!"
It wasn't uncommon for injured priests to seek treatment from Saints like her late at night.
After all, exorcists fought devils and other beings at all hours. Injuries came regardless of the time.
As someone with the strongest healing power in the Church, Asia had treated the wounded many times in the middle of the night.
She was moving farther and farther from her room, yet the feeble voice was growing clearer and clearer.
"That's odd... why would an injured priest be in the storage room?!"
Usually, wounded exorcists would wait at her door for treatment.
It was extremely rare—and suspicious—for one to appear in the storage room.
However, Asia's innate compassion and instinct to help others prevented her from questioning it. Without hesitation, she turned the doorknob.
Pushing open the door, her gaze immediately locked onto the source of the sound.
Her eyes widened in an instant.
The cardboard boxes that were once neatly arranged had been thrown into disarray across the floor, and from the entrance to the far corner stretched a trail of dark red stains, shaped like circular splashes.
At the end of that trail was a frail young man slumped in the corner.
He leaned weakly against the wall, his face pale. One hand clutched his abdomen, where thick red blood continued to seep out. His breath was shallow, as if he could die at any moment.
Realizing the heroine of his little drama had arrived, director Diodora lifted his eyes to meet the concerned gaze of the girl, and spoke in a feeble voice:
"...Save, save me!"
The exact same plea as before caused Asia's heart to tighten.
Without thinking, she rushed forward and knelt beside Diodora.
"I'll heal you right now!"
With a tone of utmost seriousness, Asia didn't hesitate as she extended both hands.
She had full confidence she could completely heal injuries of this degree.
Then, the dim storage room was lit up by a glowing green light.
From her slender hands radiated a soft glow, illuminating Diodora's wound.
And then, Diodora saw new flesh begin to grow from the wound he had deliberately inflicted.
This—was the power of the sacred gear. It wasn't some mere blood-stopping or bandaging.
Diadora's eyes lit up with astonishment—this was an unprecedented event.
He had known for a long time that Asia possessed the Sacred Gear Twilight Healing, and it was precisely because of this that he had been so fixated on her.
He had been willing to take great risks to carry out this plan.
But what he hadn't expected—
That a Holy Maiden, the bearer of a God-made healing-type Sacred Gear, could actually heal a devil like him.
What did this mean? She was a born heretic!
If Diadora weren't still invested in keeping this dramatic performance going, he would have burst into gleeful laughter right then and there.
The healing continued without pause.
"Mister, why are you so badly hurt?"
Engaging the patient in conversation during treatment is a very effective method for diverting their attention from pain.
Kind-hearted Asia hoped to ease this man's suffering through such means.
"Cough… I accidentally wandered into a church, and… before I could react, I was struck… struck by the light of the cross."
The light, a symbol of healing, continued to shine—yet Asia's expression was one of complete shock.
"You… you said the light of the cross?"
As if doubting what she had just heard, Asia asked Diadora again for confirmation.
The powers used by Church personnel were gifts from the Lord—light-based abilities.
And the only race that would be harmed under the light of the Lord—
—was a devil.
Asia had been taught this on her very first day at the Church by the exorcist priests.
The Church's description of devils was always the same.
Evil, filthy, cunning!
They were the most worthless beings in the world—vermin from the sewers, fit only for the garbage heap.
Every negative adjective, in the eyes of the Church, was perfectly suited to devils.
Her body suddenly went cold. Asia trembled, her voice quivering.
"Are… are you a devil, sir?"
It was just a single sentence, but it felt like it took every ounce of strength she had to say it.
"Yes, but… but I've never harmed… harmed a human. I don't… don't want to die like this."
"Holy Maiden… c-could you please save me?"
With clumsy acting and malicious thoughts, Diadora stuck to his script, pursuing his twisted amusement.
Diadora's painful groans echoed louder and louder in Asia's ears.
So empathetic and kind that she could feel the pain of others at any moment, Asia couldn't bear to let a living being perish when she had the power to help.
"Please forgive my sin, O Lord!"
She didn't retract her healing powers—she merely closed her eyes and silently prayed to the Lord in her heart, again and again