Chapter 82: The Lord is With Us (3)
Chapter 82: The Lord is With Us (3)
Like most humans, the Saintess’s daily routine was always much the same.
She would wake at dawn to offer her prayers. Afterward, she would eat, then head to the temple to tend to the sick. She would attend lectures, read the scriptures, pray again, and return to caring for the patients.
It was a life like a hamster wheel. Yet, the Saintess had never once harbored any dissatisfaction toward it.
Compared to her childhood, when she had shivered from cold and hunger in an orphanage, any life was a better one.
Her bed was warm, meals were served on time, and every person she passed looked up at her with eyes full of reverence and love. It was treatment she could not have even imagined in the past.
She felt a quiet sense of pride in that. Having grown up as an orphan without the love of parents, she was secretly parched for recognition.
While her public image was known only as benevolent and kind, such a naive girl could never have survived the cutthroat political arena of the Holy Kingdom. Contrary to popular belief, the Saintess was calculating and clever.
That did not mean she was deceiving the public, however. She was merely showing them one specific facet of herself.
Her concern for the patients was genuine. The Saintess always did her best during treatment, and sometimes she even secretly treated patients who were in no position to afford it.
The status of 'Saintess' did not keep her confined solely to the Academy.
Whenever she stepped outside, the world was teeming with commoners who wanted nothing more than to even touch the hem of her robes. And most of them were the poor, those who could not afford to visit the temple.
Was God’s grace not supposed to be as impartial as the sunlight, shining upon everyone?
Of course, divine power was also a finite resource. The Saintess knew well enough that it was important to deploy it in the right places at the right times. Nevertheless, the world was sometimes far too cruel to the weak.
To be in a position where one could live if only they received treatment, yet had to wait for death instead.
She was someone who remembered a childhood of hunger and shivering in the cold. It was difficult for her to turn a blind eye to that pain.
She didn't overextend herself. She simply did her best within the limits of her strength—strictly within those bounds.
But even that was enough to earn the respect of a public thirsty for grace.
"Did you hear? The Saintess visited the neighboring village the other day..."
"How can her heart be so beautiful? To bestow grace even upon lowborns like us!"
Before long, the Saintess’s name began to spread widely among the people.
It was amusing. To the Saintess, healing a patient was as simple as a gesture of her hand. Despite it being such an easy task, the public praised her loudly, as if she had endured some monumental sacrifice.
Though she scoffed inwardly, the Saintess never let those feelings show.
As her reputation grew within the Holy City, her influence became immense. There was no reason to refuse it. Thus, her good deeds always consisted of equal parts goodwill and calculation.
It was the same when dealing with people. That day, as the Saintess was walking toward the temple as usual, she encountered a familiar man in a quiet alleyway.
He was a man with black hair and golden eyes. Ian Percus. Judging by how he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, it seemed he had been waiting for her on purpose.
The Saintess wore a smile the moment she saw him. He was the person she had been approaching with the most interest lately.
He had suddenly begun to enjoy high renown. It was as if every incident in the Academy revolved around him. And along with that, his skills had improved by leaps and bounds.
He was someone with whom there was no downside to being close. Moreover, the Saintess harbored a subtle curiosity about him.
She had seen a few people who were kind to both nobles and commoners alike. After all, the Saintess herself was one of them.
However, a noble who would risk his life to save a single commoner girl was rare. No, to put it bluntly, it was the first time she had ever seen such a thing.
The Saintess was a woman too. And though she didn't show it, she carried an inferiority complex regarding her label as an orphan.
She couldn't help but feel a sense of favor toward a man who treated others with sincerity, regardless of their social status. Also, it was funny how he would steal glances at her body every time they met.
The Saintess knew. She knew just how attractive her body was to men.
Because of that, she often felt unpleasant. Whenever she felt the lecherous gazes of male dogs who were strong in lust but weak in character, the Saintess felt like praying for God to strike them with divine punishment. Compared to them, Ian was on the better side.
Because he was a capable man. And since capable people were very useful, it was better to keep them close. Her appearance could also be a tool for that purpose.
If she subtly showed a hint of affection, there were plenty of men whose eyes would turn red with delusion, ready to offer her everything. It wouldn't be bad if Ian became one of them.
Of course, after observing him for a while, she realized Ian wasn't that pathetic of a man.
Even so, it was better to show favor. Men instinctively had a habit of trying to protect a woman who showed them kindness.
Therefore, the Saintess’s attitude toward Ian could be summarized in two ways.
Half favor, half calculating intent.
Either way, there was no reason not to smile. Wearing a warm expression, she offered Ian a greeting.
"What a coincidence, Brother Ian. To meet such a welcome face is also the grace of the Heavenly God. Immanuel."
However, the man’s eyes were strange today.
Those golden eyes, which always held a spark of light, felt devoid of vitality. Only exhaustion could be felt from them.
The Saintess faltered for a moment. She had seen those eyes somewhere before.
Yes, soldiers who had fought a long, desperate struggle often had those eyes. The veterans of the frontlines, who engaged in endless battles with demonic beasts.
They were the ones who fought the enemies of humanity. Having been dispatched to the frontlines several times to treat the wounded, she could recognize it. Those were the eyes of someone who had moved past countless deaths.
But how?
She had heard that Ian Percus’s first demonic beast hunt was only recently.
To subjugate over ten demonic beasts, including a high-ranking one, on his first hunt was a terrifying talent. But talent could not replace all experience.
That look was something that could only be forged by the experience of crossing the line between life and death countless times.
While the Saintess was lost in thought, the man pushed himself off the wall. He walked over and stood before her.
Normally, he would have stolen a glance at the Saintess’s breasts, but right now, he didn't seem to have that kind of composure.
Instead, in a very weary voice,
"Saintess, shall we talk for a moment, just the two of us?"
He simply made a blunt proposal.
The Saintess hesitated for a moment. For a man and a woman to talk alone meant their relationship had progressed that much. Normally, she would have gladly accepted the offer.
But Ian’s current atmosphere was strange. It was triggering the Saintess’s survival instincts.
He is a dangerous man. The scent of blood was thick. It wasn't a physical sensation. It was the elements that instinctively dug into her intuition.
Her deliberation didn't last long. Though she hesitated for a moment, the Saintess decided to follow her instincts.
Soon, a voice feigning regret flowed from her lips.
"Thank you for the kind words, Brother Ian. But unfortunately, my next schedule is quite busy..."
"Did you hide the book under your bed well?"
The Saintess’s lips, which had been moving, froze.
She didn't move an inch. It went without saying that her smooth flow of words was cut short. Instead, the Saintess turned her wide-eyed gaze toward Ian as if she were looking at something terrifying.
No emotion could be felt in his eyes. He simply had an expressionless face, as if he were saying something that obviously needed to be said.
That was why the Saintess found it even more unbelievable. Because what Ian had started to recite was her greatest secret, something even Yuren didn't know.
"You have quite unique tastes. Specifically, content where a woman is bound by a man and they have intercour—"
"...S-Stop!"
In the end, the Saintess couldn't take it and cried out. Her pale pink eyes shook violently. Her face had long since turned bright red, all the way to her ears.
With her fists clenched, the woman’s body trembled. Her pupils were spinning from a level of shame that exceeded her limits. The Saintess soon raised her voice and shouted.
"B-Blasphemy! This is sacrilege! Brother Ian, I am disappointed! I will have you referred to a religious trial!"
"No, this is about the book the Saintess reads..."
"A-Anyway!"
The Saintess hurriedly cut Ian off. Then, looking around anxiously to see if anyone had heard this story, she hurriedly grabbed Ian’s sleeve.
"...I-If you want it that much, let's change locations!"
The Saintess then began to drag the man along. Ian watched her in silence for a moment before moving as she led, as if he had no choice.
That was the story of how a secret meeting came to be held at Sun's Rest.
"...So, why is Yuren here?"
It was a listless voice. Having entered the reception room on the second floor of Sun's Rest, he cast a sideways glance at the lean man standing beside the Saintess like a guard.
It was Yuren. As always, he raised a hand in greeting with a beaming smile.
Ian didn't return the greeting. He simply fixed his golden eyes on the Saintess.
The Saintess cleared her throat with a "hem, hem" and offered an excuse.
"I'm sorry, Brother Ian. As you know, there are many people who worry needlessly..."
In truth, it didn't really matter, but the reason the Saintess had insisted on bringing Yuren along was because of her intuition.
Her instincts kept ringing alarm bells every time she looked at that man. That he was a predator—a beast that would sink its fangs into a throat without hesitation if necessary.
However, there was also a point of anxiety. She was worried Ian might bring up that 'book under the bed.'
No matter how much the Saintess and Yuren were like siblings, they weren't close enough to share such intimate secrets. Rather, she was curious about where Ian had dug up such information.
A secret look of wariness flickered in the Saintess’s pale pink eyes. She carefully watched Ian’s reaction, but he only nodded as if it didn't matter.
Ian got straight to the point. It was a direct way of speaking.
"Can you give me some information? An orphanage supported by the Holy Kingdom, specifically one that is suffering from financial difficulties and is located in the Eastern Continent."
Silence followed. The Saintess’s puzzled gaze turned toward Ian.
First of all, she couldn't tell what he intended to use that information for, and above all, she couldn't understand his motive for requesting such information from her.
Of course, she had more than enough ability to collect such information. Her political influence in the Holy Kingdom was immense. But regardless of that, there was no reason to leak internal information of the Holy Kingdom to an outsider.
It was the same no matter how trivial the information was. The Saintess let out a sigh with a troubled look.
"Brother Ian, no matter how close you and I are, I cannot give you internal information of the Holy Kingdom..."
"Is Archbishop Aindel doing well?"
It was a sudden remark. But those few words were enough to shut the Saintess’s mouth. She turned her pale pink eyes toward Ian as if asking what he meant.
Ian was lost in thought, fiddling with the teacup placed before him. Then, as if he had organized his thoughts, he spoke in his characteristic emotionless voice.
"I heard there's a faction aiming for his downfall recently. He's someone who will become a Cardinal before long; wouldn't it be a disaster if his political weaknesses were seized? I wonder who is moving under the surface."
Dumbfounded, the Saintess and Yuren’s eyes met in midair. As for who was trying to bring down Archbishop Aindel—there was no way they wouldn't know.
It was the Saintess herself.
Archbishop Aindel was a church figure classified as a conservative. He had been clashing with the reform-minded Saintess for a long time.
Then, having recently received clues about corruption from one of the Archbishop’s aides, she had begun moving in the shadows to bring him down just a short while ago.
It was a matter being handled in absolute secrecy. To begin with, the Saintess had never even surfaced at the forefront of the Holy Kingdom’s politics until now. She had merely been planning and coordinating from behind the scenes, steadily expanding her political influence.
But how?
Actually, this wasn't the important part. The problematic part now was that this secret must not leak out. She had no choice but to shake down not only Ian but also the person who leaked the information to him and draw up a new plan.
And there was only one way to do that.
To pry the information out of Ian by any means necessary. Even if it meant using violence.
Just as a silent agreement was reached between the Saintess and Yuren.
"...Go ahead and try."
A voice filled with fatigue echoed out. Since the Saintess and Yuren were silent, the source could naturally only be narrowed down to one.
Ian Percus. He was still fiddling with his teacup. When the Saintess and Yuren’s gazes turned toward him, only then did he move those golden eyes.
Cold yet calm eyes. This man wasn't nervous in the slightest. That instantly shook the Saintess’s resolve.
I might have made the wrong judgment.
Yuren was a swordsman of outstanding skill. Under the assumption that he would cooperate with the Saintess, it was difficult to even imagine the possibility of defeat. Nevertheless, the Saintess felt a chill run down her spine the moment she met the man’s golden eyes.
But it was already too late. As the man brought the teacup to his lips, he threw out one last remark.
"It seems you were planning to do so anyway, even if I didn't say it."
It was a blatant provocation. If so, there was no more time to hesitate.
Yuren’s sword shot toward the teacup, drawing a streak of light.
It was the start of the battle.