Saintess? Not Anymore! I'd Rather be a Destroyer-Chapter 139 - 125: Girsal

"Also that child was holding back," Gray blurted out and her words surprised King Girsal.

"Holding back?" King Girsal asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Definitely," Gray replied with a nonchalant shrug, twirling down the hall. "I’m pretty sure she’s got more tricks up her sleeve."

"Oh, speaking of tricks," Gray turned to face King Girsal with a sly grin, "You mentioned a war in three weeks, right?"

"Yes, that’s right, Apostle," King Girsal confirmed.

"Here’s an idea," Gray suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye, "Let her go solo in the war. I mean, toss her in with not just regular folks, but High Humans, Chaos, and Holy Humans."

King Girsal was taken aback. "Apostle, that’s outrageous!"

"Just hear me out," Gray said, undeterred. "If her life’s on the line, you can always swoop in to save her. I bet you’re interested and eager to see what she’s truly made of, right? What better way to test her strength than a life-or-death situation?"

"Alright, you have a point there," King Girsal conceded with a slight bow.

"Also," Gray continued with a cold determination, "Figure out a way to get her on our side. Someone with her potential can either join our goddess Paige or...well, you know the alternative, she might as well die. We can’t risk other churches trying to get her to their side and using her against us."

"But she’s..." King Girsal began, only to be interrupted by Gray, who suddenly appeared before him, her eye revealing a pink cross at its center.

"Would you dare defy an Apostle?" Gray asked, her gaze intense.

"Absolutely not!" King Girsal replied nervously, feeling the pressure she emanated pressing down on him, tightening his chest.

"Good! "That’s what I like to hear, pa, pa, pa, pa." Gray said, her tone lightening as she patted him on the shoulder. "So, about that war..."

King Girsal raised an eyebrow, "Are you planning to stay for it?"

"Not interested," Gray replied casually, giving a thumbs-up. "Just stream it for me."

"But what if it gets leaked?" King Girsal exclaimed, worry in his voice.

"That’s the whole point," Gray replied with a chilling smile. "If word gets out, the only safe haven she can turn to is the Church of Paige. After all, her parents are members of our church. We’d have no choice but to protect her. Her abilities are bound to come out to the public sooner or later, and other churches or countries might come sniffing around and covet her. It’s better to be prepared and keep her from falling into the wrong hands."

"This is turning out to be much more serious than I had anticipated," King Girsal muttered, his brow furrowed as he fixed his gaze on Gray.

"Yes, indeed. Given the abundance of light magic she wields, her exceptional beauty, and her undeniable natural charm, she might even ascend to the status of a Saintess. Although, I rather hope she doesn’t become the next Saintess of beauty," Gray remarked, her tone devoid of emotion.

"But what if she does become a Saintess?" King Girsal inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.

"I highly doubt it," Gray replied with a dismissive shrug. "She comes off as rather cocky and brash. If, by some chance, she does attain that position, her fate will likely follow the same path as those who came before her."

"I must be on my way now; I have more pressing matters to attend to. We can discuss the details of her origin via the communication cube," Gray announced, stepping onto a light pink magic circle that promptly whisked her away.

The warm smile that had adorned King Girsal’s face was replaced by a cold, calculated frown. "I despise groveling before that elderly woman," he muttered sadistically. "One day, I’ll attain that level of power and become the most influential figure on the continent." he whispered with a sinister grin. "For now, I must abide by their whims," he resigned himself to the present reality as he began walking away.

Upon returning to his office, King Girsal settled into his chair, pushing aside the jade tablets cluttering his desk. He touched his ring, causing a small, clear vial containing light red liquid to materialize. He twirled the vial between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the contents.

Shrugging off his coat, he examined his arm with a glare. What had once been a fully regenerated limb had reverted to its mechanical state, exposing his artificial limbs.

"Even Kielbasa, a Sacred, couldn’t alter my condition with his blood," King Girsal muttered through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then chuckled as he looked at his hand. "Why did my mother have to be a damned mecha?"

_______

In a lavishly decorated room, a young boy, approximately ten years old, struggled with uncontrollable fits of coughing, even coughing up blood. His long, disheveled black hair framed a pair of striking emerald eyes.

Maids rushed to tend to Girsal, attempting to clean him up.

"Leave at once!" Girsal barked at the maids with fierce intensity, and they hurriedly exited his room, fearful of his wrath.

After a brief pause, a fair-skinned woman of exquisite beauty entered Girsal’s room. Her eyes glistened with tears as she gazed upon the suffering boy.

"My dear son, I’m deeply sorry that I couldn’t provide you with a healthy body. I’m sorry you’ve had to endure such suffering." the woman lamented, tears streaming down her face as she gazed at her son. However, her heartfelt words were met with a cold, resentful glare from him.

"All the doctors, every single one of them, told me they couldn’t diagnose my condition, but they all had the same grim prognosis—that I didn’t have much time left," Girsal confessed, his eyes welling up with tears. "Mum, I don’t want to die."

His mother gently cradled Girsal’s face in her hands, her eyes filled with fervent emotion. "I had hoped you’d grow up just like any other human child, my dear boy. But it appears that a Mecha like me couldn’t birth a fully healthy child into this world," she confessed, dropping a revelation that left Girsal in shock.

"What are you saying, Mother?" Girsal asked, his voice quivering as he stared at his mother.

"I should have augmented your body a long time ago. It’s the only way you could have a chance at a longer life," his mother explained, tears still in her eyes.

"Mum, what do you mean?" Girsal inquired, his confusion deepening.

"I should have done it much earlier, but this country has a deep-rooted prejudice against other races. If I proceed with the augmentation, you’ll become an outcast," his mother explained, her tone tinged with fear.

Girsal was overwhelmed by his mother’s revelation. "But I’d rather be human. I’d rather die as a human than become a monster!" he declared, his gaze unwavering as he looked at his mother, whose expression contorted in pain at his words.

"If you stay as you are now, you won’t have much time left, maybe just a year," his mother declared, gripping his hand tightly. Her features became a blur to him, but he could still recall her warm smile.

"It’s because this country lacks good doctors, we’re not well off!" Girsal exclaimed angrily.

"We’re not exactly poor," his mother countered.

"Then why is this room adorned with fake gold and crystals?" Girsal’s question pierced the room, causing his mother to shift uncomfortably and she looked nervously around the opulent surroundings.

Frustration simmered within Girsal as he continued, "Every year, Father lavishes his wealth on the commoners, distributing it generously. But when it comes to paying for my medication, he struggles to find the funds, because most of his hard-earned money is squandered on those who hardly appreciate it!"

"You’re right," his mother conceded, her voice laced with sadness. "But your father does it because he’s an inherently kind man. He helps those who don’t have enough to eat or proper clothing."

"What’s the use of him being a kind man to others if he can’t let the world suffer to save his loved ones?" Girsal questioned, his teeth grinding in frustration.

"Does Dad even care about me, Mom?" Girsal’s voice held a lifeless quality as he locked eyes with her.

"Of course he does! That’s why he visits you every day!" his mother asserted with unwavering conviction.

"I see," Girsal replied, his gaze searching. "So what’s going to happen to me now, Mom? Am I really not going to be human?"

"Yes, you’ll lose some of your humanity and become one of the most powerful beings in the world—a mecha. But I hope you’ll still live a long and fulfilling life. Always remember, your mother loves you dearly. No one must ever know that you’re not human. And if you ever feel lonely, my homeland will always welcome you back," she whispered as she cradled his face gently, her fingers brushing through his hair.

Girsal felt a strange drowsiness overtaking him. "Why am I getting so sleepy?" he murmured, his mind growing hazy as he drifted off.

When Girsal regained consciousness, he found himself lying in a pool of blood. His eyes widened in terror as he saw his mother, bleeding profusely from a gaping wound in her abdomen. But to his shock, there was nothing inside her.

"Mother! Mother!" Girsal cried out, rushing to her side in a state of utter panic.

Upon closer inspection, he realized the horrifying truth. His mother’s heart and parts of her inner structure that maintained her bodily form were missing, including her spine.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he looked at his own limbs, a faint greenish tint coloring his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"What the hell is happening?" he muttered, his fear palpable.

"Wait, why can I even stand?" Girsal’s confusion deepened as he got up from the ground, his eyes never leaving his mother.

"Mother, did you...?" he began to ask, his voice trembling with disbelief.

He collapsed beside her, hugging her tightly, heedless of the blood-soaked surroundings.

Suddenly, a group of maids and butlers burst into the room, ready to attend to the ailing prince. However, they were greeted by a nightmarish scene that left them frozen in horror, their eyes fixed on Girsal.

_________

As Girsal strode through the echoing halls of the castle, he couldn’t escape the hushed whispers and gossip trailing in his wake.

"That cursed child," someone hissed with icy disdain.

"They say he killed his own mother."

"Did you hear that some of her limbs were missing when they found her? Maybe he... consumed them?" A voice speculated with morbid curiosity.

"I heard the doctors claimed he’d barely be able to walk, but look at him now, wandering the castle as if he owns the place. He must have stolen those missing limbs!" Another voice chimed in.

"Disgusting fiend. Pray he never becomes king."

"He’s a revolting boy. I shudder at the thought of someone like him ascending to the throne!"

"An inferior, heartless creature like him? Never!"

"An individual as inferior and ruthless as he is would never become our king!"

****

"Inferior?" Girsal clenched his teeth as he sat before a grave in a secluded garden, the name "Marian Vanluad" etched onto the marker.

"Live a fulfilling life," his mother’s words echoed in his mind.

"Mother, life can never be fulfilling unless you stand at the pinnacle of society. How can one find fulfillment when the things they hold dear can be snatched away?" King Girsal murmured with pain in his voice.

"Though I must admit, this is a blessing," he said suddenly, a grin breaking across his face. "I could barely lift a sword before, but now I can take on hordes of beasts with ease!"

"Don’t worry, Mother, your sacrifice wasn’t in vain," he declared with a manic gleam in his eye. "Your son will build a wealthy and powerful kingdom, free from any so-called ’disgusting races’ that dare to taint our royal lineage!"

"This country is pathetically weak," he spat, his tone dripping with disgust. "Ever since you left, our military might has crumbled, we’ve lost wars and our finances are in shambles, and that fool of a father keeps throwing our treasury at those scoundrels in exchange for their peace! Unacceptable, disgraceful!"

"Humanity is feeble, unable to stand on its own," he grumbled. "In a world of self-interest, those who play the game right thrive while those who falter lose. And our country is on the losing side."

"I’m tired of scraping by in poverty! I watch nobles feast on sumptuous meals than me, even though I’m a prince. Unacceptable, utterly disgraceful!" He exploded, slamming his hand into the ground, forming a small crater.

"All my brothers are weaklings, too spineless to use even slaves to win wars, and yet they themselves won’t step onto the battlefield! Dearest mother, I’m fed up with these fools. I can’t stand them!"

"Every time I suggest my approach, they label it as cruelty. But it’s the surefire way to achieve all my goals, goals that would uplift this small country!" Girsal explained.

His eyes sparked with enthusiasm as he continued, "From the constant updates I receive from Mother Base at the Mecha Tower, I’ve learned that royal families in powerful nations dine with actual gold. Real gold, can you believe it? I want that too! I crave a magnificent palace, exquisite and rare dishes every day!" His declaration radiated excitement.

He lowered his gaze, a hint of melancholy in his tone. "If only we were wealthy, perhaps you’d still be by my side," Girsal mused, his voice tinged with sadness. He gently placed a beautiful crystal purple lily on his mother’s grave.

"And if that so-called Saintess had healed me, you might still be alive!!" he muttered through gritted teeth, recalling the cold, indifferent look the Saintess had cast his way when he lay on his sickbed. "She demanded an exorbitant sum, and when Father couldn’t afford it, she simply refused to treat me! Everyone knows how greedy she is, despite being my step-sister. But don’t worry, Mother, I’ll make her pay dearly for what she’s done!"

Girsal’s tone took on a joyful note as he declared, "And as for my race, you needn’t fret. I can become human! There’s a way, and I’ll make sure to fully embrace humanity, striving to become the perfect human."

He went on, his voice resolute, "The Church preaches that Humans possess the highest power among all races. Not Floops, Starlights, or Mechas—humans! According to their doctrine, the other races are meant to bow down and serve us. They were created by the High God to be our servants. After all, why else would a Mecha like yourself submit to a human like Father, if not because you were an inferior being all along? But don’t worry, Mother, your son won’t be inferior like you, for I will be human! I shall never align with the Mechas," Girsal declared with confidence