Chapter 61
Chapter 61
Saint, You’re So Vulgar! – Chapter 61
In the silence of the darkened grand cathedral, an elderly man stood.
His back was hunched, his skin etched with deep wrinkles, and his frame gaunt, yet his expression was gentle.
Currently, surprise shadowed his face, accentuating a few of those wrinkles, but soon a kindly smile spread across it, radiating warmth.
Heh heh, what brings you to the cathedral at such a late hour, Saintess?
Igor Venestian.
He was the Pope of the Holy Faith Order and a towering figure who had held that position for over thirty years.
Asher momentarily faltered at the unexpected encounter, then stammered out a response.
And what about you, Your Holiness...?
I was tidying the sacred vessels for prayer. When duties pile up, there's no time for it otherwise, so I make use of these quiet hours.
Isn't it a bit too late?
The older you get, the less sleep you need. And yet here you are, Saintess, at this late hour as well.
Asher belatedly pulled herself together and gave an awkward smile in reply.
I couldn't sleep either, so I came to pray...
At those words, another flicker of surprise entered the Pope's eyes.
Moments later, his smile deepened.
What a coincidence. Then, would you mind helping me finish up? Once we're done, we can pray together.
Asher nodded without thinking.
* * *
In the Holy Faith Order, the position of Pope was quite unusual for the highest decision-maker.
Considering how typical rulers decide matters themselves and set the group's direction, the difference stood out even more.
The truth was, the Pope had little to do with dictating the order's direction.
From the start, the order's policies were set by the Parent God.
The saintesses conveyed that voice.
The Pope's role was merely to check the saintesses' unchecked power and handle external decisions forbidden to them.
Did that mean the Pope lacked authority?
The answer was a firm no.
The Pope's selection was conducted with utmost rigor under the pretext of being a check on the saintesses.
They chose the most outstanding priest who had devoted their life to the order and granted them the term.
In short, Igor had risen to the position through that very process.
What set him apart from previous Popes was one thing.
'Three reappointments.'
The papacy changed hands every ten-year term.
Yet Igor Venestian had exceptionally served three consecutive terms in that seat.
There were various reasons, but the greatest was divine revelation.
Over twenty years ago, at the time of his scheduled retirement, it was due to a certain command from the Parent God, delivered through Halia, who was in her twenties then.
-Entrust the order's operations to that man.
It had been centuries since the Parent God issued a specific directive to someone who wasn't a saintess.
Such individuals were called the God's chosen emissaries.
Bolstered by that divine favor, Igor had now fulfilled over thirty years as Pope, and just last year, his fourth reappointment was approved, meaning he would hold the position for another decade.
He was a historic figure, and in terms of personal ties to Asher, it went even deeper.
'It's been a while.'
Igor had presided over Asher's ceremony as a 1st Class Knight.
She still remembered the words he had spoken to her that day.
-May the Parent God's mercy be with you.
He was every bit the humble and kindly man people said he was.
Though their meeting had been brief, his impression had lingered in Asher's heart as that of a good soul.
The atmosphere was serene.
Igor said nothing more, methodically cleaning and arranging the sacred vessels with care, and Asher trailed after him, helping as best she could.
Then, after lighting candles and setting the holy items before them, preparations were complete.
Well then, shall we offer our prayers?
Y-yes...!
Igor knelt not on a chair but directly on the floor.
He clasped his hands reverently, closed his eyes, and began to pray.
Asher followed suit.
It had turned into more of a formal affair than she'd expected, but considering her overdue prayers, showing this much devotion felt right.
'Parent God...'
About thirty minutes passed.
When Asher finished her prayers and opened her eyes, Igor still had his closed, utterly still.
He seemed almost asleep, he was so motionless.
For some reason, having finished so much quicker alone left her feeling embarrassed.
Just as she wondered if she should pray more...
No need to match me. Prayer is a personal matter, after all.
Asher flinched, her shoulders trembling.
Igor opened his eyes, looked at her, and smiled warmly.
This old man's mind turns slowly, so organizing my thoughts takes time, making my prayers longer. You needn't follow my lead, Saintess.
Th-that...
As Asher struggled for words, Igor's chuckle grew a touch richer.
Then he rose from his spot.
Let's call it a night.
If it's because of me...!
Not at all, so please don't worry.
Igor stood fully.
From within his robes, he drew out something wrapped in cloth.
It was bread studded with raisins.
Why don't you sit and share some before you go?
Uh...
He was a gentle soul, but his invitation carried an inexplicable pull that made one want to accept.
It was a different kind of charisma from Sir Whale's.
Asher sat in the chair beside him, and Igor broke off a piece of bread for her.
As she took it, he murmured.
When I was young, I loved this bread so much. It was what led me to join the order, in fact. Back then, the cathedral in my hometown would gather nearby orphans every Sunday and share this bread. ...Yes, as an orphan myself, it was thanks to that bread that I came to know the Parent God.
Asher was startled.
This was news even to her.
As a child, I thought priests must eat raisin bread every day. I wanted to become one too. That's how it started.
Ah...
It was the first selfish desire I ever harbored. Fortunately, I had the aptitude for divine power, so my wish came true soon enough.
Igor broke off a piece and put it in his mouth.
Pure contentment lit his face.
But once I was eating raisin bread every day, it didn't taste as good anymore. I realized there were so many tastier things in the world. I craved more fullness, more variety. That's how I was in my teens.
Asher took a bite as well.
It was stale and hardhard to see what he found so satisfying.
But his next words dispelled her doubt.
Thinking back now embarrasses me. I was clearly dazzled by luxury. The priesthood brought admiration from all, and I may have been intoxicated by it.
You went through such a phase...
One day, I grew numb to everything. No food tasted new, no clothes satisfied.
It was then.
Kindness deepened in Igor's smile.
That's when I went out for volunteer work. I packed a heap of that raisin bread from my childhood and headed to the slums. After prayers there, I handed it out to the children. Watching them, enlightenment suddenly struck me.
Asher blinked.
Laughter tinged Igor's words.
The children's smiles looked so happy. As if they'd been waiting just for this moment, all the discomfort from prayer vanished, and they beamed while eating the bread. In them, I saw my younger self.
Igor broke off another piece and gazed at her fondly.
That's when I understood. The bread tasted so sweet that day because of the waiting. What captivated me wasn't the bread's sweetness, but the sharing after the wait. It was as sweet as in my childhood. I devoured it like a glutton and got scolded by the children.
The bread disappeared into Igor's mouth.
Embarrassing as it was, it was a precious lesson. I learned that sharing and waiting are the most luxurious feast the Parent God bestows. From that day, luxury no longer tempted me.
Then Igor grinned playfully.
Anyway, that's the reason for my late-night solitary prayers. By praying long and breaking a piece of bread before the holy items, I can taste the sweetness I truly love.
In that moment, Asher smiled softly.
A worldly reason, then. For these prayers.
Igor popped another piece into his mouth.
Still, bread shared like this is delicious, isn't it?
Asher giggled and nodded.
The mood undeniably put her at ease.
The anxiety and worries from her walk here faded away, replaced by the old man's kindness and gentle demeanor.
The bread, which she'd just found dry and tough, now released sweetness with every roll in her mouth, bringing a smile to her lips.
It was in that moment.
So, Sir Terbion, have your worries eased a bit?
Asher froze.