The Saintess Didn't Believe My Words

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the red ceiling. No—more precisely, the silver incantation etched into the red ceiling. It was a pattern that hadn't been there before. Thin lines stretched across the ceiling like cage bars. The same patterns were carved into the walls, the floor, and even the doorframe. Part of the wall, once covered in red velvet, had been torn away, revealing a cold silver magic circle beneath.

There were no real iron bars. But I knew. The entire room had become a cage.

I slowly moved my right hand. Clink. The restraint was still on my wrist. The chain wasn't connected to the bedpost anymore—it linked to the silver incantation on the floor. It wasn't a simple metal chain. Mana extended from it like threads, reporting my every movement.

My left hand felt heavy too. Looking down, I saw a thin silver ring wrapped around it. It wasn't fully bound. I could move. But if I reached toward the door, the ring immediately glowed. My ankles were the same.

Ariella von Estria had kept her promise. She hadn't hurt me. Instead, she'd eliminated any reason to move.

She's really gone all out.

My throat was parched. But the water glass was out of reach. It sat on the bedside table—just one handspan too far. A calculated distance. Just like Ariella.

I opened my mouth to speak, then stopped.

Impressive. At this point, even the system was on Ariella's side. No—more accurately, it was on the side of my ruin.

I pressed my lips together and stared at the ceiling. Memories of last night were fragmented. Outside the capital. The vineyard. The princess. The saintess. I reached out my hand. Begged for help. After that... I couldn't remember well. Whether it was the Forgetfulness Coin or sheer terror, I didn't know.

But one thing was crystal clear. Saintess Seraphina el Rosen had looked at me. And she hadn't saved me.

Saintess.

I took a slow breath. Seraphina was different from the princess. She was merciful. Even bound by politics, she couldn't ignore someone in pain. Especially if she knew the Black Stigma was her curse—guilt would have taken root.

Guilt was a weakness. Ariella had caged me because of that weakness. But the saintess would be different. She'd want to heal me. And healing required the temple. The imperial barriers couldn't fully purify the Black Stigma.

In other words... convince the saintess, and I could force a transfer to the temple. Once there? Escape routes would open. The temple had underground sewers. Behind the confessional was an old holy knight secret passage. The sanctuary's sealed chamber below likely held system remnants. Far better than the princess's secret room.

Good.

I organized my plan step by step. Don't rebel against the princess directly. Use the saintess. Seraphina was weak to pain. To curses. Especially if someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠suffered because of her.

Hold back words usually—but this time, speak just enough to move her.

Footsteps approached from beyond the door. Two. No, three. One maid's soft steps. A knight's boots. And very light footsteps.

The door opened. Ariella entered first. Impeccable blonde hair. Blue eyes. A perfectly arranged dress. The woman who'd knelt in the mud at the vineyard last night was nowhere to be seen.

Behind her came the saintess. I thought I saw the remnants of the floating black record plate in the room's center tremble faintly—an illusion, perhaps.

Seraphina el Rosen. The sleeves of her white saintess robes swayed gently. The prayer embroidered in silver thread held a faint glow, and her pale pink hair cascading to her waist was soft like freshly bloomed petals.

But her eyes weren't soft. Amethyst irises. Clear, serene, and unnaturally deep. Those eyes fixed on me.

I stiffened reflexively. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠saintess noticed. Ariella did too.

Neither spoke.

"Leon."

Ariella spoke first.

"The saintess came to heal you."

Heal. I looked at Seraphina as the word hung in the air. She took a step forward. Her expression was merciful. Truly merciful.

"Leon Hart."

Seraphina said softly.

"It's good to see you again."

Again. That word carried so much. Past insults. The Black Stigma. My plea at the vineyard. And whatever she'd just seen on the record plate.

I opened my mouth. Kept my voice low. As calm as possible.

"Saintess."

Ariella's eyes narrowed slightly. My voice would be recorded. Didn't matter. This time, it was necessary.

"Her Highness can't properly assess my condition."

Ariella said nothing. Seraphina watched me.

"Why do you think that?"

Good. Dialogue established. I chose my words carefully.

"There's a temple curse lingering in my body."

"I know."

"Full purification's impossible inside the imperial barriers."

"I know that too."

Perfect. Right on track. I pushed a little further.

"Then you need to move me to the temple for treatment."

Ariella's fingertips twitched. The saintess gazed at me silently. The pause stretched. Too long. Unease crept in.

"Saintess."

"Leon."

Seraphina called my name. Her voice was gentle.

"You know exactly what to say to make me act."

My breath caught.

"...What do you mean?"

"The saintess can't ignore suffering."

She recited.

"The temple doesn't abandon curses."

"The imperial barriers can't fully purify the Black Stigma."

"So move me to the temple."

Seraphina voiced my script word for word.

"Right?"

I couldn't respond. My mind went cold. She'd read me. Completely.

The saintess knew my intent. Ariella watched quietly from the side. Her calm expression was more ominous.

Seraphina took another step.

"I hated you."

She said.

"Because I believed every word you said to me was sincere."

Her gaze dropped to my left chest—exactly where the Black Stigma sat.

"But the record plate showed me otherwise."

My lips dried.

"You always hid the truth."

Seraphina's voice didn't waver.

"You lied to save others."

One step.

"You lied to push them away."

Another step.

"You lied so they wouldn't see your fear."

She stopped at the bedside. Amethyst eyes looked down at me.

"So now, I won't take your words at face value."

That sentence filled the chamber with silence.

I wanted to laugh. The princess doesn't believe me. The saintess doesn't either. Both have reasons. And I created those reasons.

"Saintess."

I said with effort.

"Then my plea at the vineyard was a lie too?"

"No."

Immediate. She shook her head.

"That was sincere."

For a moment, relief flickered. But her next words followed.

"But sincerity isn't always right."

"..."

"Those in pain sometimes choose to harm themselves."

Her hand rose slowly. It didn't touch me. Stopped in midair.

"You ran. With an injured body. With the curse lingering. Even using something that erodes your memories."

"To survive."

This time, pure truth.

"I know."

Seraphina said.

"That's why it's more dangerous."

Words failed me.

"You break yourself to survive."

Her voice was warm. Too warm—chilling my limbs.

"Give that person freedom, and they'll run again, spilling blood."

I glanced at Ariella. The princess said nothing. Her blue eyes had settled quietly. As if she'd been waiting.

Ah.

I realized. The saintess hadn't come to save me. She'd come to heal me. And in this world, "healing" was sometimes a gentler chain than imprisonment.

"Saintess Seraphina."

I gritted my teeth.

"You're on her side too?"

"I'm on no one's side."

Seraphina said.

"I came to ease your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pain."

"Then release me."

"That's not healing."

"Is caging me healing?"

"Sometimes stillness is necessary."

She truly believed it. No deception. That made it worse.

Ariella finally spoke.

"You saw it too, Saintess."

Her voice was low and soft.

"Leon tried to use you again."

I glared at Ariella.

"Use?"

"You thought stabbing at the saintess's guilt would get you to the temple."

Spot on. Too spot on. I was speechless.

Ariella smiled sadly. Seraphina didn't deny it. That was more despairing.

I looked at the saintess.

"Do you think so too?"

Seraphina paused. The silence said enough. But she answered.

"Movement must be restricted for now."

My vision narrowed.

"However."

Seraphina continued.

"Treatment is necessary. The Black Stigma can't be left alone."

Ariella nodded.

"I'll allow it in my sight."

"Solo sessions will be difficult."

"For now."

"Restraint removal?"

"Denied."

"Pain during purification?"

"I'll be beside him."

"If Leon refuses?"

Ariella looked at me. Then slowly.

"That's a reaction from his confused state."

Seraphina lowered her eyes.

"...I won't halt treatment for that."

I looked back and forth between them. Princess and saintess. Blonde and pale pink hair. Blue eyes and amethyst. Power and salvation.

They were different. Yet here, they reached the same conclusion. They don't believe my words. They don't accept my refusal. They see my freedom as danger.

"You lunatics."

The words slipped out. No system distortion this time. Pure truth.

Ariella's eyes wavered. Seraphina's expression clouded faintly. But neither yielded.

"Yes."

Ariella said.

"Think what you want."

Seraphina added quietly.

"It's okay if you hate me now."

That was worse. I wished they'd rage, hurt, condemn me. But they said it was fine if I hated them. They'd continue even if I despised them.

This wasn't love or salvation.

The saintess reached out. This time, it didn't stop in midair. Her fingertips touched my left chest, over my clothes, cautiously.

Holy power was warm. But the moment it met the Black Stigma, my flesh burned from within.

"Ugh...!"

A groan escaped.

Ariella grabbed my right hand.

"Leon."

Seraphina's eyes shook widely.

"This much..."

She murmured softly.

Holy power was rest for temple folk. It covered wounds, washed curses, soothed pain. But on me, it reacted oppositely. The saintess's power made the Black Stigma rebel fiercely. A black pattern emerged under my clothes, dark light piercing the fabric.

Seraphina paled.

"Three years, seven months."

She said.

"This... for so long."

I gritted my teeth.

"It's nothing."

"It's not worth the saintess making a fuss now."

The words left before I could stop them. Seraphina's fingertips trembled. But she didn't anger. Her face grew sadder.

"As expected."

She said.

"Even in pain, you choose words that stab others."

"..."

"So they'll back off."

I shut my mouth. The holy power from her fingertips weakened. Pain eased slightly. She didn't force purification. Instead, she looked deeper, more carefully.

"Full purification isn't possible today."

Seraphina said.

"The stigma's too deep. Forcing it would break you."

"Then leave."

I said.

"I need rest."

The saintess nodded.

"Yes. You do."

Relief nearly hit. But then—

"So from tonight, I'll observe your stigma reactions during sleep."

What?

Ariella said.

"I've prepared a room for you on the east annex side."

"Thank you."

"Outside treatment hours, I'll watch Leon."

"During, I will."

Their conversation flowed too naturally. Like guardians scheduling around me. My input? Absent.

I laughed. Hollowly.

"Am I even human to you?"

Silence blanketed the chamber. Ariella's hand stilled. Seraphina looked at me. I alternated glances.

"To you, am I a patient, a prisoner, or a debtor?"

Neither answered. The silence was the answer.

I closed my eyes.

"Get out."

My voice came low.

"Both of you."

Ariella didn't move. Seraphina didn't either.

I gritted my teeth.

"I said get out."

Seraphina said quietly.

"You need rest now."

Ariella stroked my hand.

"Yes. Rest, Leon."

Words weren't getting through. To either.

Then the system window appeared.

I stared blankly at the window. Princess's Cage. Saintess's Rest. Cage and rest enveloped me together.

Run, and protection escalates. Refuse, and it's confusion. Hurt, and the saintess senses it. Speak, and the princess hears.

Perfect. A truly perfect hell.

The saintess couldn't see the system window. But she saw my face.

"What do you see?"

I didn't answer. Seraphina smiled sadly.

"It's okay."

"..."

"You don't have to say."

Her amethyst eyes settled quietly.

"I'll figure it out from now on."

Ariella closed her eyes in satisfaction. No—relief.

"Saintess."

The princess said.

"Our goals seem aligned."

Seraphina paused. Then nodded slowly.

"At least for now."

I looked at the ceiling as they spoke. Red ceiling. Silver incantations. Closed door. And two names overlapping my body.

Protection. Healing. Both beautiful words.

Ariella whispered to me.

"Now it'll really be okay."

The saintess prayed-like.

"I'll wash away your pain for sure."

I closed my eyes. Laughter threatened. Or maybe tears.

Then the black record plate glowed faintly. I turned reflexively.

In the chamber's center, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠darkness split thinly. At first, I thought the princess's record plate had reopened. But no. The light spreading over the black slab wasn't the princess's sun emblem.

Pale violet holy power. Saintess Seraphina el Rosen's presence.

The moment the saintess entered this room, the princess's record plate had begun linking to the temple's second one.

I held my breath. The saintess had already seen Sacrifice Log 002. That I'd taken the Black Stigma for her. Hidden it over three years. That she hadn't noticed.

But that was just the record. A sanitized truth she could bear.

What was opening now was different. How I'd swallowed breaths every night. How my flesh burned inside each time her holy power touched. How I'd gritted my teeth to smile normally before her.

The raw originals. Seeing that, Seraphina wouldn't believe me anymore. Not even if I said I wasn't in pain. That I was fine. To leave me be. All lies.

"Don't look."

The words burst out. Sincere.

Seraphina looked at me. Amethyst eyes wavered.

"Why?"

I couldn't answer. The next line appeared on the plate.

Seraphina slowly raised her hand. I yanked the chain. Clink. My body wouldn't move.

"Seraphina."

I called her name for the first time. Her hand froze midair. Ariella's eyes chilled.

I gritted my teeth.

"Please."

The saintess's eyes shook hard.

"Don't look at that."

Seraphina stared long. Confusion in her eyes. Guilt too. And the conviction I feared most bloomed: the more I hid, the more she needed to know.

"Leon."

Her voice was endlessly gentle.

"You're pushing me away again."

"No."

"No."

Seraphina shook her head quietly.

"Whether telling me not to look is really for my sake."

Her fingertips descended toward the black plate.

"Or to hide your pain again."

I was speechless. Seraphina smiled sadly.

"I'll decide now."

Her fingertips touched the slab. Black light erupted.

The chamber's air sank into black. And the next moment—

My nights, unknown to the saintess, began unfolding one by one.

And at the record plate's bottom. The next unopened item flickered faintly.