Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: A Prayer Just for You (1)
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After that, what unfolded was nothing short of a miracle.
Behind Saintess Lumiel, six pairs of dazzling wings unfurled, and from them radiated a warm, holy golden glow that spread like waves, gently enveloping all who suffered.
The lips blackened by poison regained their rosy hue, and the child's small body, wracked with convulsions, found peaceful rest once more.
The groans and cries echoing from every direction had transformed into hushed gasps of awe and gratitude.
"An angel... has descended!"
That single cry was the signal.
Everyone in the relief center—even the imperial guards and the temple priests—instinctively dropped to their knees.
The empire's two suns, the Emperor and the Pope, stood speechless before the surreal sight, gazing at the slender girl at the center of the light with reverent eyes.
The waves of light spilled beyond the relief center's crumbling walls, blanketing the entire slum district of the capital as dusk settled in.
Swallowing the shadows of twilight, the gray world transformed into a brilliant realm of white night.
The miracle did not stop with those felled by poison.
Wherever the light touched, elders bedridden by chronic illnesses ceased their coughing and drew clear breaths, and the pure cries of a child seeing light for the first time echoed through the alleys.
Traces of pain were erased, despair replaced by wonder.
In the capital's darkest shadows, hundreds, thousands of small miracles bloomed silently.
And at the heart of it all, Lumiel stood with serene smile, eyes closed.
No longer a helpless girl, but with eyes brimming with compassion as if embracing the world's every suffering.
In that moment, she truly embodied the title of Light Archangel.
How much time passed?
As the golden radiance that had lit the world like midday began to fade, a suffocating silence settled over the relief center.
The silence was broken by a child's clear voice.
"Mommy, it doesn't hurt anymore..."
With those words, choked sobs erupted here and there.
The sobs swelled into a massive roar that shook the relief center's ceiling.
"A miracle! It's the Lord's miracle!"
"Saintess! Long live the Saintess!"
As the miracle subsided and the wings of light behind Lumiel slowly dissipated,
she turned toward the empire's two rulers with resolute eyes.
"Your Majesty, and Your Holiness."
Her voice no longer trembled.
"What I witnessed was salvation wrought in the Lord's name and grace bestowed in Your Majesty's name. And now, I see the mercy of both uniting to save the people."
She first acknowledged their current cooperation, then surveyed the patients still bearing traces of suffering before continuing.
"Yet this tragedy may have arisen because Your two great powers did not unite sooner. I beseech you—take these poor souls' sacrifice as a mirror, and join your lights as one so that such darkness never falls upon the empire again."
It was a plea, but laden with the weight of the miracle that had just saved the world, her words carried more gravity than any command.
The Emperor and Pope exchanged glances.
Their blazing anger and rivalry had subsided, replaced by immense responsibility and a twinge of shame.
The Emperor spoke first.
He let out a heavy sigh, admitting his fault for the first time.
"The Saintess's words weigh heavily, Your Holiness. It seems we've both forgotten our true duty."
The Pope gripped his staff tighter and nodded.
"Your Majesty is right. Before the people's suffering, worldly disputes are meaningless. Now is the time for the Lord's mercy and Your Majesty's authority to stand together."
As the empire's two suns each took a step back, the frozen air in the relief center finally began to thaw.
The Emperor and Pope bowed to each other—a signal of newfound harmony.
In the days that followed, an unprecedented wave of change swept through the imperial capital.
The first to be enforced was imperial law.
Corrupt officials and black-market merchants were publicly hanged in the capital square.
Their wretched ends served as a chilling warning etched across the empire: this was the fate of those who toyed with the people's tables.
The imperial family compensated all victims generously and provided full medical support through temple clinics until complete recovery.
The fact that the imperial family admitted its mistake and took full responsibility left a profound impression on the people.
Paradoxically, the incident bolstered trust in the Imperial Safe Mark even more.
Now, it signified not just safety, but an absolute guarantee that the imperial family would handle any issues personally.
The Church changed as well.
The Pope issued an official decree: the Church would no longer chase worldly wealth or influence, but devote itself solely to saving souls and nurturing lives.
They withdrew claims to mayonnaise ownership, accepting sauce donations instead while preaching the salvation within—a path to soothe the people's hearts.
Of course, securing a promise that neither the Church nor the imperial family would monopolize mayonnaise—or future sauce ventures—to prevent such heated friction was a bonus.
The imperial family and the Church, those twin pillars, sheathed their blades against each other and clasped hands for the common goal of the people.
The empire emerged from the crisis not weakened, but more solidly united.
Of course, rumors swirled that a saint had granted the Saintess a revelation to end the endless standoff between the Church and imperial family.
And that this saint, through heavenly flavors and teachings, awakened her to perform the miracle.
With rumors flying that I—the creator of not just Tomato Sauce, but Arrabbiata and mayonnaise—was that saint, I endured some hassle.
Of course, when I heard whispers that the Saintess herself might elevate me to saint, it sent chills down my spine.
It was only a little later, after all the cleanup, that I returned to Kandoria.
"Aigoo... my legs ache..."
I buried myself in my bed in the castle upon returning to Kandoria after days away.
The days in the capital had been hellish, both physically and mentally.
Endless meetings for crisis management, aid plans for victims, mediation between the imperial family and Church.
With everything wrapped up and Erika off visiting her Argentis homeland, the castle felt unusually quiet.
Just then, a tentative knock sounded at the door.
"My lord, I have a brief matter to discuss."
"What is it?"
I replied in a weary voice. It was the butler who entered.
"A nun from the capital monastery waits at the gates, requesting to see you, my lord."
"A nun? On Church business?"
"No, she says it's personal. She insists she has something vital to tell you..."
I furrowed my brow. Personal business?
But I couldn't turn away a guest who'd come all the way to the castle.
"Escort her to the reception room. I'll be there shortly."
I dragged my heavy body up, straightened my clothes, and headed to the reception room.
Inside stood a woman in plain gray nun's robes, hood pulled low, gazing out the window.
She turned slowly at the sound of my approach.
The moment I saw the face beneath the hood, I swallowed hard.
"Saintess?"
She pressed a finger to her lips with a playful "shh" and smiled.
But those golden eyes held no prior hesitation or helplessness—only clear, steadfast light.
"Just call me Lumiel here, Jonathan."
"What brings you to this remote borderland? And in such a guise..."
"I had to give you proper thanks, so I slipped out secretly."
She approached and bowed deeply without hesitation.
"Thank you, Sir Jonathan. For giving me courage, the strength to move forward—no, for everything."
Her voice was soft, but its weight was profound.
"You saved the world, Saintess. I did nothing."
Lumiel shook her head with a gentle smile.
Soon, she posed a question.
"It must be stifling in here. Shall we take a short walk outside, Lord Proxy of Kandoria?"
Her tone mixed respect with faint playfulness as she suggested a stroll.
I stepped out with her.
Atop the inner ramparts overlooking Kandoria and the vast western pastures, as we caught the breeze,
Lumiel glanced my way and parted her small lips.
"...Thank you, Jonathan."
Stunned by her sudden gratitude, I stood silently beside her, at a loss for words.
"I did nothing of note."
She shook her head side to side.
Then, in a quiet voice, she shared her heartfelt truth.
"No. When I was lost in my darkest despair, the light that guided me was my memories of you."
Stunned by her sudden confession, I stood silently beside her, at a loss for words.
Lumiel gazed into the distance, calmly recounting that day's memories.
"Even back at the monastery, I kept blaming myself. For collapsing from hunger after failing the penance, for burdening my benefactor, for failing to hide my shame before your warm consideration."
Her cheeks flushed faintly.
"...But I realized it. What I should be ashamed of wasn't my weakness, but my willingness to surrender to it. And the one who gave me the courage to resist was you, Jonathan."
She finally turned, meeting my eyes squarely with unwavering golden gaze.
"When you set aside noble pride to cook for my starving self, dirtying your hands, I saw the true meaning of service."
"When you placed me on horseback to show me the world's beauty, I felt the freedom of being alive. And the taste of your salvation taught my tongue and soul directly what the Lord's love looks like."
"Jonathan, you are the mentor who showed this saintess her path, the savior who lifted me from despair. Without you, that day's miracle never would have happened."
Embarrassed by her earnest confession, I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly.
"You're too kind. I only did what anyone should."
"No, it wasn't just duty."
Lumiel shook her head firmly.
She stepped closer, cradling my hands gently in hers.
"Because of the devotion and miracles you showed me, I finally understood what I must do."
"To spread the devotion you showed, the miracles you wrought, the ideals you wished to unfold, the goodness you sought to proclaim. That is my mission."
"You've said it before: you want to bring happiness to all, high and low alike."
"Even with rough, cheap foods, transforming them into bountiful, joyful meals—like with mayonnaise and Tomato Sauce."
"To me, Jonathan, you are a saint with the will to make the world better through such goodness."
Saint for one mayonnaise? It felt awkward, a bit embarrassing.
She drew one step closer, locking eyes with mine and declaring,
"So please, allow me."
Her warm breath tickled the back of my hand.
"Let me be your most devout apostle, the most faithful shield proclaiming your will to the world."
"So all your desires come true. So miracles happen for everyone."
"May I pray for your will to be fulfilled... just for you?"