Chapter 256
Chapter 256
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Saintess
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"What... what did you do?"
Rishir confessed that he had inadvertently overheard(?) the prayers of the followers.
The Saintess stared at him, her eyes wide in surprise.
Rishir scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
He couldn't hide the fact that the followers' prayers directed at the Saintess had reached him as well.
So, he had decided to come clean about it—
'Isn't this a much more sensitive issue for the followers than I thought?'
Eavesdropping on everyday conversation was already a grave breach of etiquette, but prayers so fervent they reached the Saintess? How much worse was that?
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to listen in. They just... came to me while I was standing still."
Rishir apologized sincerely, and the Saintess, flustered instead, raised both hands.
"No, that's not what I—"
"Pardon?"
But contrary to Rishir's worries, the Saintess showed no intention of rebuking him.
To begin with, her mind was too preoccupied to even consider it.
Her flailing hands as she struggled for words perfectly mirrored the turmoil in her head.
"They just... came to you while you were standing still?"
Those were the words she finally managed after much deliberation.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Why would they come to you just because you were standing still?"
Are you, the Saintess herself, seriously asking that?
That was the question I was going to ask you.
Rishir felt a mix of embarrassment and responsibility at her reaction.
The root cause of this situation was undoubtedly his unique constitution, as always.
After some thought, he said,
"This space... Could it be the influence of your power filling it? And my unique constitution reacted to it."
The Saintess's cathedral was brimming with her aura.
If it existed in reality, it would have long been designated a sanctuary under the church's management.
In short, Rishir's claim was this:
—A miracle occurred in a place where miracles could happen without surprise.
And from the Saintess's perspective, it sounded like:
—I don't know much about swordsmanship, but the atmosphere was good, so sword aura just came out on its own.
Prayers infused with divinity and will.
The connection between Saintess and follower through them.
It was akin to divine magic facilitated by the Saintess's extreme divinity.
However, its exact mechanism remained unexplained—
Thus, followers attributed it to 'miracle' or 'revelation.'
It wasn't some phenomenon an outsider could experience just by being in a place filled with the Saintess's aura.
The Saintess, incarnation of divinity, knew this better than anyone.
Yet—
"..."
She rubbed her furrowed brow in anguish.
Right.
This man could very well—
She caught herself accepting it without realizing.
'What do you mean 'could very well'?'
The events held immense meaning for the Saintess too.
She was a follower herself, after all.
She believed the connection with her present followers was by the Lord's arrangement.
That their faith in the Lord aligned with hers to produce miracles.
But—
An outsider who casually learned black magic from a demon shows up and stirs deeply into this sacred act. How could she not be flustered?
And she's even thinking, 'That could happen.'
"Ah, Lord—"
Overwhelmed, she offered a fervent prayer.
Please.
May her faith not waver due to this peculiar(?) being that defies providence and law.
—Please... your... to me...
"...!"
Suddenly, the Saintess shuddered and snapped back to attention.
In her distraction by this specter(?) shaking followers' faith, she had momentarily forgotten their prayers.
She decided to set aside her questions and focus on their voices.
The Saintess knelt before the Lord's statue.
"Oh..."
Rishir let out a gasp at the sight that followed.
Light scattered through the ceiling glass into the cathedral.
It converged into a clear beam, directed straight at the Saintess.
As if connecting her to the heavens.
"..."
Rishir couldn't tear his eyes away until her prayer ended.
The devout Saintess upheld the doctrines.
Faith is rewarded with faith.
She protected all faith directed toward her.
By safeguarding their faith, hers would be safeguarded in turn. So she believed.
Thus, the Saintess embraced them with all she had.
"Why..."
In doing so, the Saintess lost everything.
Her faith. Her very existence.
Nothing reached the Saintess anymore.
Neither the voices craving faith.
Nor the groans seeking salvation.
The cathedral.
That which embraced all who sought faith crumbled.
The village.
That which comforted all seeking peace turned to dust and scattered.
"Lord..."
Her world, shaped by her wishes, held nothing anymore.
Yet she knelt where she always prayed, hands clasped.
"Please... the lost souls..."
The Saintess's faith. Her prayer.
With no one to receive it, they scattered like dust.
The small, peaceful village born of her wishes.
Nothing remained there now.
"Saintess!"
It was the moment the Saintess finished praying and tried to stand.
Rishir rushed to her side.
Her frail body lost balance midway and staggered badly.
"A-Are you alright!?"
Not only that.
Rishir could feel her aura had greatly weakened.
"Ah. This feels... nice. Can you stay like this a bit?"
Huff. Huff. The Saintess breathed heavily.
Her pure white skin poured cold sweat like rain.
"Saintess— Are you alright!?"
"Don't make a fuss. It's nothing."
Even as she spoke, exhaustion was clear on her face.
"Tsk tsk tsk."
"Oh, Shuyen? When did you—"
The fairy, who had joined them unnoticed, clicked her tongue at her companion.
"What a sight. 'Nothing,' yet you're drenched in sweat and gasping?"
"Don't say useless things."
"As you say, it would be useless if nothing happened."
Agh.
The fairy sighed in frustration.
"Tara. Why did you create this space? To live for yourself here, away from always serving others? Tired of that life?"
"...Can't you see I'm doing that?"
"No. I don't. All I see is a foolish human ready to give her liver and gall if asked."
"..."
The Saintess grimaced and averted her gaze.
Hoo.
The fairy sighed at the sight, shaking her head in exasperation.
"Fine. Fine. I'm not totally denying your position. That faith. Those convictions. How noble? I'd help if I could."
But!
The fairy jabbed her finger sharply.
"At least take care of your own body! Looks like you haven't shared your power recently either. And before that burden even fades, you tear off another piece of yourself!?"
"Ah."
Rishir, listening beside them, nodded emphatically.
He recalled the faint fragility and precariousness he'd felt from the Saintess before.
He'd thought it stemmed from her life of devotion and sacrifice—
'Wasn't just my imagination, then.'
As the fairy said, the Saintess had shared her power with someone quite recently.
Just like now.
"..."
Then.
The Saintess gritted her teeth as if resolved.
That fierce expression.
Rishir worried their argument might escalate into an emotional brawl.
"If not me, who will help them..."
However.
His worry was unfounded; the words from that fierce face were profoundly noble.
'Oh no, Saintess...!'
Rishir sighed inwardly.
The Saintess.
Truly, an impossibly kind soul, saintly to the core.
He chided his past self for thinking the fairy was too harsh.
If his comrade acted like this?
Harming herself for others?
He'd explode from frustration on the spot.
"Even so, you must care for yourself."
Having empathized fully, Rishir chimed in heartily.
"...!!!"
The fairy was briefly startled.
The hero's descendant's reaction was worlds apart from the hero's.
The hero fully respected Tara's convictions and choices.
As he did with others.
Thus, Shuyen and the comrades couldn't speak harshly to the Saintess—
'Yes! Good job!!!'
It felt like long-pent-up indigestion dissolving.
The fairy beamed, egging Rishir on with her expression.
"..."
The Saintess was equally shocked.
She'd thought the hero's heir would understand her.
His unexpected stance brought a twinge of disappointment.
"It's not for you to tell Shuyen off. If my comrade acted like you now—... Ugh, just imagining it."
The duties and weight inherent to the 'Saintess' role.
His words showed utter ignorance of their noble value.
One ought to feel offended hearing it.
Yet.
Strangely.
"..."
The Saintess felt an odd sense of liberation.
Instead of 'Of course, because you're the Saintess.'
It was 'Even a Saintess can't do that.'
Like having a burden lifted rather than imposed?
"What would you know..."
Of course.
As Saintess, it was hard to accept meekly.
She bristled prickishly, resisting the impure feeling.
"Of course I know nothing. But doesn't that let me say certain things?"
"..."
Ooh!
Oooh!!!
What!?
He's doing better than expected!?
Rishir was disarming the Saintess bit by bit.
The fairy now openly cheered him on.
"...I'm fine now."
"Ah—"
Then.
The Saintess shook off Rishir's support.
"Sorry. Looks like divine guidance has to wait till tomorrow. Got other business today."
What that 'other business' was, was obvious.
She was preparing to sit again.
—Saintess...
And those voices still faintly audible.
Prayers seeking aid.
Demands for devotion and sacrifice.
Rishir briefly wondered where to direct his exasperation.
The Saintess, giving her power yet ready to give more?
The followers, receiving yet unsatisfied, demanding more?
A sudden doubt struck him.
Followers craving the Saintess's power.
Did they know her state?
That she helped them at the cost of herself?
Unable to hold back curiosity, Rishir asked her.
"Tara can check. But she doesn't bother. She sees believing in them as they believe in her as natural."
The fairy answered instead.
"And descent to the present world takes immense power. She'd rather share more with that strength."
"Oh man..."
Tsk.
The Saintess clicked her tongue.
The irritation on her face mixed with poorly hidden embarrassment.
She knew it herself.
How foolish it was to discard herself for others.
And it doubled when worrying comrades.
But what could she do?
She was the Saintess.
The spiritual pillar for countless followers.
"Talk's over. Time to leave?"
Unsure she could resist the growing temptation, she ordered them out.
"..."
Man and fairy pondered her demeanor.
Persuasion seemed to be working somewhat—
But right now, she insisted on repaying followers' faith.
What the backlash would do to her.
"How about this!?"
Finally unable to endure, Rishir spoke.
"Let me handle it once."
"...?"
Handle? What?
Saintess and fairy doubted their ears, parsing the meaning.
Deputy Councilor Fienne thought.
Her secretary Rona thought too.
The church.
These blind fanatics were as annoying to deal with as ever.
The incident started when one of Fienne's retainers, a woman, was attacked.
Surprisingly, the attacker was a church holy knight.
The woman, granted new life by the True Ancestor on the brink of death, was still clumsy controlling her power—
The holy knight's sensitive senses, attuned to high sanctity, didn't miss it.
Thus, an impromptu heresy trial opened in Bondales Square.
—How dare they in this city!!!
When the church reported it, the city's powers voiced strong discontent.
Even the church couldn't judge citizens arbitrarily.
—Eh, church being high-handed is nothing new. Don't stir trouble; give them what they want.
—Putting one of our city's citizens on heresy trial!?
—Why make a fuss now? Since when do you care?
—Know that citizen belongs to Deputy Councilor Fienne!?
—...!!!
Especially if tied to 'that man.'
So they thought.
At this point, wouldn't 'that man's' comrades mediate?
'Hidden Breath' and 'Talent Collector' came to mind.
Even church folk couldn't ignore their voices.
However—
"Sorry I couldn't help, Miss Fienne."
In Bondales Square, amid the heresy trial, Hidden Breath and Talent Collector expressed regrets beside Fienne.
Despite them, the church's trial proceeded.
The Saintess.
That revered being was among the church's ranks.
Moreover, the trial proceeded via the Saintess's will.
A heresy trial with justification from the Saintess!
Even Hidden Breath and Talent Collector couldn't forcibly stop it.
"..."
Fienne gritted her teeth.
Her retainer's voice reached her.
—No matter what, I won't let it harm you, Lady Fienne...
It wasn't the shadow of a slave robbed of existence, as holy knights claimed.
Clear fear in the voice.
And selflessness transcending it.
Thus, the 'former' True Ancestor Fienne's dominion was different.
That dominated woman was no mere vampire.
But the church wouldn't believe it.
A monster with pure aura— a contradiction.
"So frustrating..."
Fienne writhed in helpless rage.
"That guy would..."
Then, the androgynous youth muttered.
Fienne's secretary, the Saint Rona.
"What, Rona?"
"In this situation, what would that guy do?"
"..."
"He's super familiar with shit like this."
As Fienne recalled 'that guy' at Rona's words.
The paused Saintess's trial resumed.
She straightened and began praying again.
The Saintess thoroughly blocked external interference.
The holy barrier to reveal the woman's identity in the trial.
She borrowed the 'First Saintess's' power for it.
A trial infused with that great hero's will.
Who could defy it?
"Ooooh...!!!"
The crowd filling the square buzzed.
As the Saintess resumed praying, a beam of light descended from the sky, illuminating her.
"A miracle!!!"
"The Saintess performs another miracle...!!!"
Church followers knelt in rapture.
As the entire crowd praised the Saintess's sanctity.
Fienne and Rona's faces hardened simultaneously.
"..."
The Saintess.
That embodiment of mercy and tolerance smiled sadistically at them.
Fienne and Rona recalled a fleeting moment from before.
—...These things dare defy the Saintess's will—
That faint voice from the receding Saintess.
They'd thought it imagination then—
Apparently not.
Thus, all their unease became reality.
Whoosh!!!
"Ooooh...!!!"
An even fiercer beam.
Amid awe, that great will descended into the Saintess's body.
"Ah."
A small groan escaped the Saintess, unheard by all.
She felt omnipotence course through her, confirming the two women's reactions.
Thus, a faint question arose on the Saintess's resolute face.
Their reactions differed sharply from expected.
The girl in white. A smile spread on her refined lips.
"As expected..."
She murmured, sensing that man's trace.
"Wait, Fienne—"
Rona eyed Fienne cautiously.
She too had hoped 'maybe that man again?'
But surely— this was too much.
Saintess.
The first Saintess.
And the Lord.
Where could that man fit in those limited seats?
Fienne said,
"That man could have become the Saintess, you know? Something sketchy like that."
Without hesitation.
"Ah."
Rona sighed.
Didn't see any issue in that sentence?
This woman.
She's gone all the way.