Chapter 20 – The World Outside Is Burning, But You Are Safe in My Arms

【Elizabeth PoV】

The royal summons arrived at midnight like a threat wrapped in gold leaf.

A messenger in the King’s colors stood at my estate gate, flanked by two armed guards. They weren’t threatening, not yet, but the formal language of the scroll they carried made it clear this wasn’t a request.

The Hero was commanded to present himself before the Crown immediately.

I read the document three times, my calm demeanor masking the absolute fury boiling beneath the surface. The King himself was ordering the Hero away from safety, away from recovery, away from me. Some old man in a palace thought he had the authority to—

“Tell the King the Hero is preparing a forbidden spell.”

I handed the scroll back to the messenger, my voice steel-smooth.

“One that requires absolute concentration and isolation. He cannot be disturbed under any circumstances, or the spell will fail and catastrophically backfire.”

The messenger’s eyes widened.

“A forbidden spell? Your Holiness, the King said—”

“I don’t care what the King said. The Hero’s preparation takes priority over royal summons. Any interference will result in his death.”

I let a smile creep across my face.

“I’m sure His Majesty understands that keeping his greatest asset alive is more important than a scheduled audience.”

The messenger blanched.

He left within minutes, clearly terrified of being the one to deliver such a blunt refusal to the Crown. I watched him ride away into the night, satisfied that I’d bought at least another few days before anyone tried this again.

Then I felt it.

The panic in the city streets, the way the crowd consciousness shifted like a nervous animal. The Demon King’s forces were moving closer. Scout reports were coming in every hour now, each one more dire than the last. Thousands of demons marching toward the kingdom’s heart, and the military response was disorganized, chaotic, inadequate.

People were terrified.

They needed hope.

They needed their Hero.

I couldn’t give them the real Hero, but I could give them the next best thing.

I returned to my chambers and found the Hero exactly where I’d left him, peaceful and unconscious. A bit of drool had accumulated on the corner of his mouth and I cleaned it away with a silk cloth, shaking my head at his lack of self-control.

Even helpless, he managed to be adorable.

I sat on the edge of the mattress and took a deep breath, gathering my consciousness.

Creating a city-wide illusion was theoretically possible but practically insane. It would require sustaining an illusion across multiple city blocks, keeping it stable under scrutiny, maintaining it while multiple mages actively tried to dispel it.

Most Saintesses would have their brains melted by attempting something this ambitious.

I was not most Saintesses.

I stood and moved to the window, looking down at the city spread out below. Thousands of lights, thousands of people, all of them looking up at the sky like they were searching for salvation.

I would give it to them.

I closed my eyes and began to cast.

The spell was massive, intricate, requiring layers of magic so complex it felt like orchestrating a symphony played by an army of musicians. I wove illusion magic and light magic and a touch of blessing magic to add authenticity, creating a framework that would hold together under real scrutiny.

The mana cost was astronomical.

My reserves drained like someone had opened a faucet and let them pour straight out. Blood started running from my nose, hot and coppery, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The people below were panicking, needed to see their Hero standing against the darkness.

So I would make them see it.

The illusion took shape in the sky above the city center.

At first it was just a silhouette, a vague suggestion of human form made from compressed light. Then details filled in, features resolving from the abstract into the concrete. Golden hair caught the moonlight. Electric blue eyes opened and gazed down at the city like the Hero was personally watching over them.

The illusion’s hands came up, palms facing forward.

Streams of golden light erupted from the illusion’s fingers, spreading across the sky in patterns of pure magic. It looked like he was channeling an enormous spell, something on the scale of a city-wide blessing. Citizens in the streets below began to cheer, their voices carrying up to the palace and beyond.

The Hero was here.

The Hero was preparing to save them.

Everything would be fine.

I maintained the spell with iron will, pouring more mana into it even as my body screamed in protest. My vision swam, black spots dancing at the edges. My hands shook with the effort of keeping so many threads of magic woven together simultaneously.

Blood dripped from my nose onto the silk of my clothes and I didn’t care.

The illusion flexed, making it look more real, more present. The golden light pulsed in rhythm with the Hero’s heartbeat, the real heartbeat of the real man lying unconscious on the bed behind me. I synchronized the illusion’s breathing with his, creating a metaphysical connection that would convince any mage trying to investigate.

This wasn’t just light and shadow.

This was a genuine magical signature tied to the real Hero, making it nearly impossible to dispel without going through me.

The Demon King’s scouts would see this.

They would report back that the Hero was preparing some kind of massive defensive magic, a spell powerful enough to protect an entire city. They would know he was active, aware, and dangerous.

They would hesitate.

And that hesitation might be enough to save thousands of lives.

I let the spell run for five more minutes, long enough for the panic in the streets to transform into something like hope. Then I released it all at once, letting the illusion fade slowly, like the Hero was settling back into his preparation, conserving energy.

The mana drain stopped and I collapsed backward, my body hitting the bed with a solid thud.

Every part of me hurt.

My head felt like someone had split my skull open and stuffed it with lightning. My mana reserves were completely, utterly depleted. I’d be useless for combat for at least a week, maybe longer depending on how badly I’d damaged my magical pathways.

Totally worth it.

I pulled myself upright on trembling arms and looked at the Hero. He remained peacefully unconscious, completely unaware that I’d just used him as the centerpiece of the largest illusion spell cast in the kingdom in a century.

I reached out and wiped the remaining blood from my nose, smearing it away with the back of my hand.

“You’re welcome.”

I whispered it to his sleeping form.

My communication crystal pulsed on the nightstand. I ignored it for another minute, just breathing, letting my body remember how to function. Then I picked it up and activated it.

“Your Holiness.”

Marcus’s voice was urgent, almost panicked.

“The people are saying the Hero is preparing a defensive spell. The King wants confirmation, is he—”

“Tell the King the Hero is channeling a forbidden incantation that requires absolute silence and solitude.”

I kept my voice steady despite the exhaustion threatening to pull me under.

“Any further disturbances will disrupt the concentration and doom the spell. If he wants his Hero to save the city, he needs to ensure complete isolation.”

“How long—”

“Days. Possibly weeks. It depends on how many interruptions I have to contend with.”

The unspoken threat was clear. The next person who tried to summon the Hero would face my personal ire.

I cut the connection before Marcus could ask anything else.

The palace would relay the message to the King. The King would understand, or at least accept, that the Hero couldn’t be moved. The military would have to fight the Demon King’s army on their own, and if they failed, well, that wasn’t my problem.

I had my Hero safe.

That was all that mattered.

I lay down on the bed next to him, my body aching in ways I’d never experience before. The magical exhaustion was settling into my bones like cold concrete, making every movement an exercise in willpower.

I reached out and took his hand anyway, lacing my fingers with his.

“The world is burning outside these walls.”

I whispered it into the darkness, watching his face by the glow of the barrier spells.

“The city is panicking, the King is confused, the military is in chaos. But you’re safe here with me, and that’s all I care about.”

His hand was warm and unresponsive, a living weight that meant nothing to him and everything to me.

“When the Demon King arrives, when his forces breach the gates and start tearing through the kingdom’s defenses, he’ll be looking for you. He’ll want to crush you, to prove his superiority, to drag you down into darkness.”

I squeezed his hand a little tighter.

“But he won’t find you. I won’t let him. I’ve sealed this room so completely that nothing short of a divine miracle could penetrate these barriers. You’re protected from every threat, every danger, every sword and spell and demonic curse.”

The barriers pulsed around us, golden light creating shadows that danced across his perfect face.

“Especially from the Demon King. I’ll keep him away from you, no matter what it costs. Even if I have to fight him myself, even if I have to burn out my magic completely, I won’t let that monster touch you.”

I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally overwhelming my consciousness.

“Sleep well, my love. When you wake, this will all be over. The war, the chaos, the people trying to take you away. It will all be dust and memory.”

My voice was barely audible now, fading into the quiet hum of the barrier spells.

“And you’ll finally understand that this was love. That locking you away, isolating you, keeping you all to myself… it was the ultimate act of devotion.”

Outside the estate, somewhere in the distance, horns began to sound.

Demon horns, deep and resonant and absolutely terrifying.

The army was close now, close enough that the sound carried through the streets of the city. Citizens screamed, took shelter, prepared for the worst.

Inside the sealed chamber, I didn’t hear it.

Or rather, I heard it and chose not to care.

My hand remained clasped with the Hero’s, our fingers intertwined in the darkness.

The world could burn.

As long as I had him safe in my arms, nothing else mattered.