Surviving as a Saint in Another World

Being alone (2)

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen that I just lay down on the spot and screamed at my stomach.

do you know that

People who shout out loud that they can’t do it anymore are not saying they’re quitting because they can’t do it anymore, but protesting to reduce their work because they’re going to die of hardship.

People who shout out loud that they cannot live like this and that they must die do not mean that they will really commit suicide, but that they should hold on to me and take care of me because I am struggling to die.

I want to live… I was reincarnated in another world, but I can’t die like this… My survival instinct succeeded in preventing desperation by a narrow margin.

On the other hand, I was possessed in a different world under the conditions of a dream like the heroine of Mary Su’s daughter’s novel, but why can’t I, Ronan, be happy. .

Unlike other high-ranking clergymen, I was brought to a gorgeous room in the morning dressed up to the fullest.

It’s probably in the reception room where I’ll be alone with the princess in a little while. However, I don’t know when the alternative event will end, so is it right to wait indefinitely? I don’t know how many cups of tea I’ve been drinking.

Since it’s an official visit, the ceremony they have to conduct won’t be short, but how long will they have to stay like this?

It’s fortunate that I haven’t officially been officially recognized as a saint yet. Otherwise, I would have really exploded in that hellish atmosphere while sitting next to the princess who wanted to kill me while maintaining a smile like this.

Celia, I miss your soft palms today… Touching them without thinking, like touching a meat ball, was really good for relieving stress.

Celia is not with me today.

I don’t want to be caught in any way by the imperial family, but since morning, other high-ranking priests have been serving me.

Celia greeted me with an expression of resentment, but as if she couldn’t help it.

Even those clerics disappeared after guiding me to this reception room.

Celia, I don’t know if you looked at me like that because you thought you weren’t fit to be my attendant in public, but I don’t know of any attendant who thinks of me like you do.

The clergy who decorated me still had respect for me and gladly decorated me, but those who guided me here were full of signs that they just wanted to throw me here quickly and go to the place where the ceremony was held.

This made it almost certain that the lower the clergy ranks, the more they respect me, and the higher up they think less of me.

In the eyes of high-ranking nobles, I am a caught fish.

Besides, no matter how much the church hates the imperial family, if the imperial family has such great power, they will want to connect somehow.

They hate the imperial family for stealing their power, and they love the power the imperial family possesses, so it wouldn’t be a big deal to arrange such a contradiction.

Aren’t most of the priests here worshiping power, not gods?

In addition, the representative of the envoy is the eldest of the emperor’s children, so even if I were like him, I would want to run right away and wag my tail.

Why the hell didn’t you even give me a chance to wag my tail?

Thinking of the murderous intent that the person at the top of the power caste harbored against me made me depressed again.

I really don’t know anymore

Even if I work really hard in the future and become sane and officially recognized as a saint, is there hope in the fact that the person with the most power on the continent wants to kill me?

As I closed my eyes and fell into the nihilism of thinking that everything I was doing was in vain, I felt signs of approaching this place.

The moment I reflexively stiffened my body.

“Excuse me, saint.”

The door to the audience room opened, and the princess, the cardinal who had served her, and her escort finally appeared.

At first glance, there was no chance to see the princess properly as she panicked at her distracting atmosphere and murderous intent.

And the impression of facing her while wearing a commercial smile on her face,

…You’re younger than I thought.

That was it.

* * *

…You don’t look younger than you think.

That was Azalea’s first thought upon meeting the saint.

The saint had a unique atmosphere that made it difficult to guess his age.

It was a heterogeneous feeling that was hard to find even among the princes and princesses who were instilled in the strict imperial etiquette.

It’s a hot day, but it’s not stuffy, so the white robe covers the entire body except for the hands and face. Although she is said to have dressed up, her beauty is so beautiful that even the princess herself can be seduced for a second. The two eyes half-opened and lowered as if they had abandoned their lingering attachments to everything. The inorganic eyes, like dolls, did not show any emotions, making them seem transcendent.

Even so, when she recognized this side, it was to the point where she thought that if her smile that made people feel at ease and that even Azalea herself was a saint was all this, then it was inevitable that people would be influenced by the saint.

“Princess, this is Saint Ronan. Saint Ronan, Princess Azalea, the morning star of the empire.”

“It is an honor to meet you.”

Azalea, who came to her senses as she watched the saint bow her head deeply, immediately recalled her purpose and began to act for him.

“I am the honored saint. Will you allow me to kiss the stigma?”

Azalea dared to ask, even though she knew that the church had not already recognized Ronan’s right to be a saint, and therefore did not follow the traditional saint etiquette.

After tilting his head for a moment, the saint turned his gaze to the cardinal who accompanied him.

Is that so… Is it a doll that follows the will of the church even though it exudes a strange atmosphere that is so noble and reassuring?

Azalea found herself feeling somewhat disappointed in her heart, even though she had fully expected it.

It must be proof that he expected a different image from the saint in that short period of time.

“Heh heh, Princess. Saint Ronan is not an official saint yet, so we won’t take such an oversight.”

It was just ridiculous to see the belatedly embarrassed cardinal intercede.

“I have a stigma, so how is that an overstatement? Kissing a stigma is a process of feeling that the stigma is real, and thereby realizing that you are a real saint, and paying sincere respect to yourself. Am I wrong?”

“That, that’s… if that’s what the princess wants, do as you wish.”

The cardinal, who intervened at Agelia’s cold tone, backed off without saying a trivial word.

As Azalea approached, the saint handed over his right hand naturally, unflinching and unflinching in the face of all this.

“It is an honour.”

It was certainly not the pattern of the god Orion recorded in the Librarian.

However, the divine power that was subtly felt in the stigma only made him realize that the stigma was not a lie.

Profanely, Azalea would rather have the saint be a lie.

If the church had put up a false saint, the child who was referred to as a saint would have been a good reason to attack the church. Even for that cause, the child would have lived.

It was now a worthless assumption.

Azalea became disillusioned with all of this, but kept her boiling anger at bay and sharpened her intent to kill the saint in front of her eyes.

At that moment, I felt the hand of the saint who had kissed me slightly tremble.

It was a moment that was too coincidental to be a coincidence. It also crossed my mind that holy magic is a variable that is difficult to judge with common sense.

…no way?

Azalea, who opened her mouth, hurriedly looked at the saint, who was still looking at her with a smile on her face.

Yes, that must be an overestimation. Who in the world would smile at a murderer who tries to kill himself out of nowhere?

“Then we’ll just leave.”

Just in time, Kanion said that to the unhelpful Cardinal.

“Let’s do that. I hope you have a meaningful time.”

The cardinal accepted the offer without hesitation, as if he wanted to leave this place immediately.

An imperial envoy whose intentions are unknown pushed forward that he would have a private meeting with the saint, and at the moment when it was finally established, the cardinal left without regret because he felt uncomfortable being there…

Azalea let out a silent sneer.

Perhaps it was because of the disturbed mood, but somehow the saint’s smile also seemed to be similar to his own.

“Sit down, sir.”

“Azalea-sama please too.”

Finally, an awkward silence settled in the room where only the two of them were left.

Outside the door, Kanion and the imperial troops, cardinals and paladins would be waiting, but it was impossible for them to react immediately no matter what happened at this moment.

“You said you wanted to see me? May I ask what you’re doing?”

The saint opened his mouth like that first, seeing Azalea who was silent.

It was a soft tone and voice that made me feel at ease just by listening to it.

It’s much harder than just killing a child. It was much harder than I thought to kill someone who gave off a mysterious atmosphere to the extent that even if he didn’t have stigmata, it was convincing that he was a saint.

Azalea, who swallowed the tea in front of her while riding, opened her mouth to calm herself.

“Before that, may I ask you a few questions?”

“of course.”

“Does the saint believe in Orion-sama?”

A stupid question too inappropriate to ask a saint chosen by God.

Even so, the saint replied in a calm voice without a hint of ridicule.

“Of course. It’s all thanks to Orion-sama that I’m alive.”

It was standard, but it was a remark that would sound quite meaningful to Azalea, who heard the unbelievable fact of how Ronan became a saint.

Azalea, whose burning thirst was still not quenched, quenched her thirst once more and asked.

“Then the saint believes in the Order?”

“Of course. Isn’t the church created to spread Orion’s teachings?”

“Calm…”

The moment when Azalea, who has finally emptied her cup of tea, is about to ask if she believes that the Church is as good as you think it is.

“?”

The saint shook his head, bringing his index finger to his mouth as if telling him to be quiet.

It’s as if you shouldn’t ask the question you’re about to spit out.

“You must be very thirsty. The days are getting hotter. I’ll pour you another drink.”

Still speaking in a calm voice, the saint poured more tea into Azalea’s cup and began gesturing on the table with her left hand.

It wasn’t just a gesture.

Following that hand gesture, the neat cluster of lights engraved on the table formed a sentence.

[Don’t say more than that. Our conversation is being bugged.]

A bolt of lightning struck Azalea’s head.

“Eat it. It’s a little chilled, so your thirst will be quenched.”

Azalea, who took a sip of the tea as if bewitched by the saint’s words, realized that the thirst she felt had disappeared before she knew it as she drank the tea that was much colder than before.

“Isn’t that bad?”

It was as he said.