18. The Fake Saint’s Evolution into a Genuine One (Another Perspective)
“—You exist only to please me.”
Those words which were thrown about by the saint multiple times—I’d never forget them.
When the former saint, her predecessor, met her demise, I saw how the symbol of sainthood vanished from her. That was how I knew being the saint was truly a divine title.
It was said that when the saint of the current generation died, the next saint would be born. She would be born with the ‘symbol of sainthood’.
Therefore, the church was also responsible for examining the babies born that year. We were responsible for finding the symbol of sainthood on a child, for finding the next generation’s saint.
One day, a priest found the symbol of sainthood on the sole of a girl who had been brought to the church for her baptismal ceremony. Thus, the saint of the present generation had been found, and she was hailed as the kingdom’s saint.
In the church, there was an institution responsible for the protection and care of the saint. They were responsible for supplementing the saint with a general education, teaching her history, and also providing her with care. The church deemed it necessary to nurture the saint, both in physically and mentally.
However, ever since the current king ascended to throne, he had criticized the ways of the church.
He argued that it was wrong for the church to ‘isolate’ the saint—that if the Goddess’ religion was considered as the kingdom’s religion, she should also become the ‘Saint of the Kingdom.’ Thus, he decided to raise the saint in his own way.
She was taken in by the royal palace and was raised like a member of a privileged class. Instead of receiving a proper education, she was exposed to a toxic environment.
The church had repeatedly requested the king to let them provide the saint’s education, but the saint wanted nothing to do with formal education. In the end, even after reaching adulthood, she had learned nothing.
Then, I was welcomed to the kingdom.
To the ignorant and shady saint, I was appointed to serve as her assistant.
The king finally realized how unfit she was to be a saint when it was revealed she didn’t even remember a single prayer. Nevertheless, by that point, all of the saint’s official duties had been assumed by the church.
The saint, who didn’t understand her position in the slightest, deemed me her personal assistant. Because she was very fond of my face, she kept uttering to me—
“—Be mine, then I shall grant your every wish.”
Because I was a priest, I turned her down on spot. Thus, the saint went on strike and refused to work. Then, her entourage proceeded to relentlessly harass me.
As a saint, if she couldn’t perform public affairs, she’d be jeopardizing her own position.
If the people were to think that they didn’t need a saint, someone who couldn’t even serve as the kingdom’s symbol, then they’d think of her as useless.
After explaining that a bunch of times to the saint, she replied;
“Entertain me, then—and while at it, try your best. Only then will I start doing my job. Your presence here is solely to please me. Other than that, you’re worth nothing.”
Taking her position for granted, she even told me to lick her feet on our first meeting. She said that if she were to feel satisfied, only then would she begin attending to her responsibilities. While saying that, she made such a repulsive smile.
…This is not good.
I was disappointed at how much of a defect she was. For her to still not understand the meaning of her role after I had explained it so much…
Of course, I also refused her order to lick her feet with a smile.
Thus, the saint shouted that it was the king’s order. She only reluctantly withdrew her order when I declared I’d rather die from disobeying the king’s decree rather than acquiescing to it.
At a later date, I discovered that the saint was looking for someone who could put a spell of obedience on me. Once again, I realized that talking sense into that empty-headed woman was useless.
When I was told to lick her feet, I thought that such a rotten person couldn’t be a saint. I glanced at the sole of her foot. They were blemished with a dirty color. There was no shred of beauty in her.
The only reason that woman was the saint was because her sole had that symbol of sainthood.
The saints of the former generations had the power to bring about miracles such as healing injuries or growing plants— earning their titles.
At that moment, the church had no idea what kind of power the current saint had.
The people around me said she had healing power, but I didn’t know whether or not the story itself was fabricated. After all, no one had really witnessed her healing anyone, not even me.
Were she a saint without any defining value, replacing her would be no trouble.
From that point onward, I began to make plans to replace the saint. I secretly dispatched people to various places to search for an appropriate candidate.
Then, I found Ceylan.
Ceylan was one of a few, rare, people who could use healing power. At the same time, she was ridiculously naïve, she didn’t know her own value. As such, she kept doing menial tasks at the rural church.
Her home was poor, and Ceylan was the major pillar of support for her family. She was also under a massive debt.
The priest of that church had long been aware of the rarity of Ceylan’s talent. However, he seemed to distrust the capital which had become a mess after the present king’s reign started. As such, the old priest didn’t dare report Ceylan’s existence.
Due to the debt, her family had reached a point where her sister had to be sold. Not even the old priest could do nothing about it. So, he finally contacted me.
When I heard about the debt, I thought of how convenience it was. After all, as long as I promised to pay her, she’d surely take on most duties—especially when it came to keeping her family’s safe.
In fact, Ceylan, who had no other choice, accepted my proposal with almost no complaints.
I was aware of how cowardly my tactic was. However, I kept justifying myself that it was a fair contract, because I was paying her.
At first, I didn’t trust her.
Upon taking up the role of the saint, she might become accustomed to the luxury and reverence that came with it. Thus, her personality might shift.
After all, many people who came to capital and had their first brush with luxury changed. Hence, I thought that I had to be alert no matter how innocent the present Ceylan was.
Besides, ever since I was a child, I had always received a lot of trouble due to my appearance.
By the time I realized it, there were tons of people in the world with intelligence were inferior to that of a child’s. I had experienced countless kidnapping attempts.
It wasn’t once or twice that the perpetrator had blamed me for enticing them. I didn’t like my face. I even cursed the fact that I was born with it.
Due to those circumstances, I always kept my distance from women. I didn’t think Ceylan would be any different, either.
But, after a while, I noticed that Ceylan didn’t even look at me.
Whenever we had conversations, she’d keep her replies brief. It was as if I was being told I was annoying. She also appeared to not have the slightest interest in me.
I liked that martyr side of her. At the same time, I was curious of her thoughts and principles. I wanted to hear her opinions about the world.
I tried to make a straight ball about what she thought about my appearance. But Ceylan’s only answer was that my appearance was ‘symmetrical and healthy’—which was strange.
When asked in detail what that meant, I was amazed at how unconventional Ceylan’s perspective was. At the same time, I was strangely convinced that what she said was true.
Certainly, I had received more than enough protection. My parents raised me carefully, and I was also entrusted to the church. I had never been hungry, nor had I ever been ill. My appearance was also a gift of good health. It may be said that it was the result of living in a privileged environment.
I found her truly interesting because whenever I talked to her, she had unexpected views on things. Thus, I kept asking her a lot of questions. I could feel that Ceylan was getting annoyed at me, but I was too interested in her to stop.
“Ceylan, imma take advantage of your desperate situation, and make you sign your life away to me so I can secretly raise you into becoming my church’s ~perfect~ saint without your consent! But you absolutely have to stay pure, mkay!? You can’t enjoy dem luxury and reverence, because the journey of a saint means staying humble! Also, also, don’t you dare look at my way! I’m sexy and I know it, but women who fall for me are a bunch of shallow creatures, not worth the dirt on my boots!”
-the priest, basically.
Man, gotta love the priest and his double standards.
Also, what does he mean by that Ceylan will enjoy luxury and reverence when her carriage is already some execution wagon, and her companions are a bunch of sickos who want to maim her!?
This dude defly hafta get his head outta his rear, and get those eyes checked!!!