Pirate Phantom
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Chapter 54: Ineffective
🕑 Added 2025-08-06 17:01:32 +0000 UTCWhen Maria saw her mother Ruth again, she was lying in bed. The once-gentle and dignified wife of a priest now had a withered, gaunt face,
When Maria saw her mother Ruth again, she was lying in bed.
The once-gentle and dignified wife of a priest now had a withered, gaunt face, her thin body sunken deep into the soft bedding. Even with the enhanced perception of a Black-Clad Nun, Maria could barely detect her mother's heartbeat. The kind woman who had given her maternal love without the slightest bias, as a true mother should, had clearly reached the end of her rope.
“Sis!”
The one attending the bedside, Felia, turned and spotted her older sister. She immediately leapt into Maria’s arms like she used to.
Holding her little sister, Maria could clearly feel her trembling.
Felia was terrified—like a helpless little kitten clinging to the only warmth she could trust. Death was slowly creeping closer to their mother, and for someone as young as Felia, it was nothing short of a nightmare. She hadn’t moved an inch from her mother’s side, too scared to leave the bed even for a moment.
“Don’t be afraid... I’m here now.”
Like before, Maria gave a soft, pale smile of comfort as she gently stroked Felia’s hair, the same color as her own.
She was just about to set down the little koala-like sister snuggled into her chest when Felia instead clung even tighter with both arms and legs.
“Don’t leave me, Maria!” The poor girl clearly thought Maria was going to abandon her. It was obvious she’d been scared out of her wits lately.
“I swear before the Sovereign—I will never leave you.”
With no choice, Maria held Felia in her arms and sat in a nearby chair beside their mother’s bed. Her gaze fell on Ruth, filled with worry as she examined her complexion and breathing. As a Bloodbound Scholar, Maria quickly arrived at a grim conclusion through observation: Ruth was like a once-vibrant flower now withering fast. The life force sustaining her was slipping away at an alarming rate.
Perhaps it was the noise from the two sisters, or perhaps she sensed that the daughter she had been waiting for was finally near. Ruth’s eyelids trembled slightly beneath the covers before she struggled to lift them.
“Ma... ria...”
“Mother, I’m here.”
“You’ve... lost so much weight...” Ruth tried to raise a hand to touch her daughter's face, but didn’t have the strength to follow through. Maria took the initiative, gently grasping her mother’s frail hand and leaning into the palm that still held a trace of its former softness.
The woman lying in this bed was Maria von Cainhurst’s adoptive mother.
With unconditional kindness, she had allowed a noble orphan like Maria to experience motherly love no different from that of a common girl. Ruth was the one who taught Maria to let down her guard and embrace the vivid, colorful world around her. Without Ruth, Maria might never have become the warm, gentle person she was now.
Ruth was Maria’s sun.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Maria sniffled slightly, her face lighting up with a genuine, radiant smile. She shifted Felia, who was still hanging onto her, then pulled a stunningly well-crafted divine scroll from her chest.
“Praise the Sun.”
She muttered softly and, without hesitation, tore the scroll open.
[Sun’s Grace]
(A rare and sacred healing miracle infused with the divine power of the Sun Princess. As the daughter of the Sun King, the Sun Princess’s miracles are few and mysterious, and she herself seldom reveals her power. Note: For non-oathbearers of the Sun Princess, the healing effect is halved. Actual effect may vary depending on the target. Final interpretation belongs to the Sun Princess.)
If this divine scroll were sold during the public release phase, it could easily fetch an astronomical price from the military corps. The miracles and blessings of Sun Princess Gwynevere were known for their absurd restorative effects.
But unfortunately—
Maria was now a part of the Fractured world. No matter how much the scroll was worth, she would use it to free her mother from the grip of illness.
The moment Maria tore the scroll, golden motes of light materialized in the air around the room. They floated gently and weightlessly as though alive. The dreamy, ethereal sight made Felia forget her sorrow and fear. She stared up, eyes wide with wonder.
Each of those tiny motes overflowed with surging, vibrant life energy.
Maria was especially sensitive to life energy.
Her body, colder and more bloodless than most, instinctively hated environments dense with solar energy. The true blood of Cainhurst was never meant to bask in sunlight. If this energy weren’t focused on healing and had instead been shaped into punishment, it might’ve burned her outright.
One of the golden lights landed on Felia’s nose, tickling her slightly. She rubbed it with a giggle.
And then, like a sudden downpour—
The light particles transformed into a gentle rain of golden droplets, falling softly upon Ruth.
It’s working!
Seeing a visible improvement in her mother’s complexion, Maria’s heart surged with hope.
But just as quickly, that hope was crushed.
“What’s happening?!” Maria shot to her feet, fists clenched tight. Her expression twisted with fury and disbelief.
Ruth’s condition had clearly improved. Under the overwhelming divine grace, it was as if a nearly burnt-out lantern had been filled again with precious oil. But what shattered Maria’s composure was that once the body was filled with this vibrant life energy—it just vanished.
It was like Ruth’s body had a hole in it.
No matter how much life energy poured in, it simply drained out and disappeared.
“Ineffective...?”
“No... no! This isn’t right!”
Maria’s heart turned cold.
“No matter how much I try—none of it stays? It’s all just... wasted?!”
Cough cough. “Maria... don’t be so shocked,” Ruth said gently. Perhaps it was the miracle that had temporarily restored a sliver of her strength—her complexion had regained a slight flush.
“My body’s already beyond saving.”
“I can’t accept that!” Maria snapped back.
“Maria, my sweet daughter... sit with me.” Ruth accepted her fate calmly. She had known for a long time that this day would come. The fact that it hadn’t come sooner was already a blessing she was grateful for.
The divine light gradually faded, returning to nothing.
Maria sat, her thoughts racing, eyes locked on her mother. Though her complexion had improved, Ruth’s body felt like a bottomless pit. The divine miracle had taken effect—but its result was null.
Maria furiously searched her memory for any known condition that matched this. But it wasn’t an illness. Nor a curse. It was as if this condition had always been there—a flaw from the very beginning.
“What’s wrong with your body…?”
Rather than keep guessing, Maria calmed herself and chose to ask directly. She couldn’t understand it—Ruth had always been weak, yes, but not like this. Why had her condition suddenly taken such a terrifying turn?
