Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Saintess Chloe's Fundraising Frenzy
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Sunlight poured into the imperial palace garden, making it dazzlingly bright.
A scene of utter tranquility.
And amid that serene backdrop...
...lurked one highly suspicious shadow that didn't belong at all.
'Heh heh... Today’s the day the Imperial Craftsmen’s Association releases their limited-edition shoes.'
I can’t miss this. Hang on, my babies—Mommy’s coming for you!
A woman wrapped head to toe in a baggy cloak, slinking around like a stray cat on the prowl.
It was the empire’s Saintess, Chloe.
“Saintess.”
Just as she was about to slip out of the garden.
A chilling voice called from behind her.
“Eek!”
Chloe’s shoulders jerked up in fright.
Screeech.
She whipped her head around like a broken doll.
And there, arms crossed and leaning casually against nothing...
...stood Emperor Darcor.
“Oh, Y-Your Majesty! Haha... Fancy running into you here. Out for a stroll?”
Chloe rolled her eyes awkwardly, sweat beading on her brow.
“Where are you off to?”
“Ah, haha... J-Just heading to pray. There’s this super urgent... prayer request for the people!”
“Pray, huh.”
Darcor’s gaze drifted to her waist.
A heavy pouch that jingled with every step.
“Doing your prayers with pockets full of gold these days?”
“Th-This is an offering! A sacred tribute to the Goddess...”
Chloe bluffed shamelessly.
“B-Besides, I prayed all night for Your Majesty yesterday. Her ears must be blistered by now.”
She stared off into space, pretending nonchalance.
“Thanks to me, Your Majesty’s got a guaranteed ticket to heaven. I vouch for it! Haha!”
Darcor let out a snort at her machine-gun excuses.
“I’ll handle my own heaven, don’t worry. More importantly, Saintess.”
He stepped forward boldly, and Chloe instinctively backed away.
“Do a little job with me.”
“A j-job?”
“You saw it at the magic tower too. Rats are coming soon.”
“Ah... Yeah, I did. Scary stuff.”
Chloe replied half-heartedly.
War? Scary, sure.
But is this some part-time gig?
It’ll work out somehow.
There’s always an escape hatch.
Even if the country falls, I’ll survive.
Worst case, grab a few holy relics and bolt to another nation.
But Darcor’s next words hit her reverse scale.
“Problem is, we’re broke. Wars run on money, as they say.”
Money.
Alarms blared wildly in Chloe’s head.
No money? He’s not asking me to lend him some, is he?
A bad premonition washed over her.
My gold, my babies!
She glanced skyward desperately, pulling off some footwork to escape.
“Oh dear, look at the time! I totally forgot my appointment with my dear little lambs. So busy—gotta run!”
Just as she spun to flee.
“Our Saintess, since when do you fill your pouches with gold just to visit the lambs?”
“...Huh?”
Chloe froze, cold sweat dripping.
“Ahaha... L-Like I said, this is for the Goddess...”
“Enough. Sit down. That thing must be heavy—your legs hurt, right?”
Darcor plopped crookedly on a bench, looking up at her.
Chloe hesitantly perched on the bench’s edge.
Darcor cut straight to the chase.
“Not sending you to the battlefield. Just do what you’re good at. For real this time.”
“Huh? What I’m good at?”
Chloe’s eyes went wide.
What am I good at?
Praying? Shopping?
Darcor grinned.
“What else? Shaking people down for cash.”
“Eek?!”
Chloe jumped back.
“Wh-What do you mean, shaking people down?! Your Majesty, you keep forgetting—I’m the Saintess. The noble, incorruptible, sacred Saintess of the Empire!”
She clutched her chest, protesting her innocence.
But Darcor’s eyes were ice-cold.
“I know. That’s why I’m asking. If you wanna keep playing the benevolent Saintess, you’d better listen.”
“Hah?”
The air turned frosty in an instant.
Chloe flinched but pressed on.
“A-Are you threatening me? E-Even so, I can’t help with anything that shady like fundraisers with ulterior motives...”
“What happens to you if we lose the war?”
Darcor cut her off.
“Huh?”
“You know how it goes for women in a defeated nation.”
He leaned in, whispering softly into her ear.
“Especially our beautiful Saintess, symbol of the empire. You’d be top priority spoils.”
His eyes roamed her body stickily as he licked his lips.
“And wearing such pricey national treasure necklaces too. Our Saintess is gonna be a hit—Daroa soldiers will go wild for you.”
“E-Eek!”
Chloe’s face drained white.
Horrific visions flooded her mind.
Dank underground dungeons, rough soldiers’ hands.
And worst of all—her babies.
Countless necklaces, designer bags, limited-edition shoe collection.
Nooo! My elegant life can’t end like this!
Chloe switched modes at lightspeed.
“You should’ve let me finish, Your Majesty!”
She clenched her fist heroically.
“Even if it’s a fundraiser with ulterior motives—for the empire’s safety! I’ll gladly... help out without hesitation. Of course, the empire must survive for the people to live.”
“Good. As expected of our Saintess.”
The blackmail had landed perfectly.
Darcor nodded in satisfaction.
“Knew you’d devote yourself to the empire and its people.”
Chloe sighed in relief, head drooping.
Sigh... Basically, busk for cash. Damn, those limited shoes are gone.
That’s when it happened.
Darcor casually held up two fingers.
“Twenty percent of net profits.”
“...Pardon?”
Chloe’s head snapped up.
“Take twenty percent. Can’t have nobility donate talent for free, right? You deserve hazard pay.”
“Tw-Twenty percent?”
Chloe’s pupils shook violently.
An imperial fundraiser would be massive.
Twenty percent of that?
Forget shoes! Play it right, and I could buy out a whole luxury boutique...
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
This time, they were real tears—not crocodile ones.
“Your Majesty!”
Chloe seized Darcor’s hands.
“Why didn’t you say so sooner?! I’ll scrape my soul bare... No, I’ll summon faith from the depths! For the empire, I’ll burn this body to ash!”
Her eyes blazed with fervor.
Darcor knew.
The surest fuel for Chloe wasn’t fear—it was greed.
Knew money would make her hustle harder. What a useful material girl.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Emperor’s office.
The real strategy meeting began.
“War talk stays secret. Can’t leak it—too many rats around.”
“Hmm...”
Chloe propped her chin on her pen, nodding gravely.
“No ‘save the nation’ donations then. Plain charity won’t rake in big bucks...”
“Right.”
“Nobles are stingy inside their flashy shells.
High noses too—hate paying a dime for free...”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed, then flashed.
“So sell something. Whatever.”
“Like what?”
“Your Majesty, sell the story. Charity’s all about storytelling.”
Chloe scribbled on paper without pause.
[Planning Product List] 1. Emperor His Majesty’s autograph (limited 100 sheets, numbered). 2. Saintess’s ultra-concentrated blessing amulet (500 gold). 3. Heaven Express Pass ticket (5000 gold). Darcor scanned the list and barked a hollow laugh.
“Saintess, this okay? You’re hellbound for real.”
“Hah? Hell?”
Chloe scoffed in disbelief.
“Your Majesty, know how much I’ve shoveled to the Goddess? I’ve got first-class heaven reserved. She’ll understand—without me, she’d have starved ages ago.”
Darcor shook his head at her gall.
“Anyway, leave it to me. You just sit pretty. Got it?”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ [Southern Region Disaster Relief Charity Auction Party]
The imperial ballroom brimmed with the empire’s top nobles.
Under glittering chandeliers,
Chloe ascended the podium.
In priestess robes, eyes misty with emotion.
Benevolent Saintess mode.
“Everyone...”
Her frail, trembling voice echoed through the hall.
“Last night, the Goddess appeared in my dream... weeping tears of blood.”
The crowd stirred.
“Our little lambs... the southern regions suffer from sudden drought and monster outbreaks.
Children cry from hunger... Sob!”
Chloe clutched her chest, sobbing uncontrollably.
Even Darcor almost bought it.
Insane acting chops.
“Oh my goodness.”
“The Saintess is so compassionate...”
Moved noblewomen dabbed tears with handkerchiefs.
As the mood peaked,
Chloe wiped her eyes and played her ace.
“His Majesty can’t sleep nights over the people’s pain. Look at this soaked handkerchief.”
She held up a grimy rag high.
“Wiped with His Majesty’s tears as he thought of the people until yesterday—a holy relic of the Emperor’s benevolence!”
Darcor nearly spat his corner wine.
That’s the one I used to wipe my feet yesterday and tossed...
But the nobles exploded.
“Ooh... His Majesty’s tear-soaked handkerchief!”
“A holy relic! Our house’s glory!”
“500 gold!”
“Nonsense! 1000 gold!”
“I’ll take it! 2000 gold!”
The auction devolved into frenzy.
Darcor’s discarded quills and ink-stained parchments sold as treasures bearing his anguish.
Gold piled like mountains.
Jackpot. Total jackpot.
Chloe’s eyes sparkled gold-shaped.
Prepped items sold out long ago.
But she hungered for more.
Mood at zenith.
Nobles’ wallets wide open.
Couldn’t stop here.
Twenty percent... Need to up it. Time for the big one.
She clenched her fist decisively and strode center-stage.
Clack clack.
“Alright! For our disappointed guests, the final hidden item!”
The hall hushed like ice water poured.
Hundreds of eyes locked on her lips.
“Moved by your fiery patriotism, we present an unscheduled first in imperial history!”
Darcor propped his chin curiously.
Huh? All sold out. What’s left?
Chloe paused dramatically,
then winked at Darcor.
Her lips mouthed silently.
Don’t forget my twenty percent.
A chill ran down Darcor’s spine.
Chloe threw her arms wide.
“The one and only... A full day date with Emperor His Majesty!”
“...Huh?”
“Own His Majesty’s entire day—a once-in-a-lifetime chance!”
“Pfft!”
Darcor sprayed his premium wine like a fountain.
The ballroom froze briefly,
then erupted in ear-shattering screams.
“Kyaaah!”
“I’ll buy it! All my fortune!”
“Outta the way—I’ll sell family lands for it!”
“It’s mine!”
Noblewomen swarmed the stage.
Darcor stared blankly at the chaos, wine dripping from his chin.
“What the actual fuck.”