Chapter 20
At Shallen’s words, Philip flinched and hurriedly looked around.
Already having confirmed that no one else was there, Shallen calmly continued while gazing back up at the sky.
“What did he say that left such worry on your face, Priest?”
Philip swallowed dryly and glanced behind him.
If they walked farther inward, they would reach the place where the former Saintess had once been confined.
Had the current Saintess come here knowing that—or was it mere coincidence?
He had discovered it by chance.
Once, he had followed a priest who kept glancing around while carrying a plate of hard bread.
If he hadn’t thought that behavior strange, he never would have seen her—the former Saintess Aria, slowly losing the light in her eyes.
“Saintess.”
Philip, who had seemed lost in thought, finally spoke.
“Yes. Please go on.”
“May I ask how you came to know of this place?”
He asked because it felt as though she already knew everything.
Shallen looked bitterly toward the place his gaze was fixed upon.
“Didn’t you find it strange? That once Saintesses step down from their position, they disappear as if they no longer exist. You can’t see them even once… and then, just when you’ve forgotten them, they appear briefly.”
One could only see a former Saintess at the inauguration of a new one—
if she was still alive by then.
Shallen had been able to see Kardin because there had been no new Saintess to replace Melissa.
Philip’s pupils widened. It seemed he had never thought of it that way.
Shallen understood him.
She herself had been the same. Having lived in the already-rotten Melissa from a young age, she hadn’t felt anything strange at first.
After a long silence, Philip slowly began to speak. He told her about his conversation with the Temple Head.
As he spoke, Shallen’s expression did not change at all.
To Philip, the current Saintess—who had acted where no one else had, or dared to—felt like the final hope of this place.
When he finished, Shallen finally asked,
“What do you intend to do, Priest?”
“I—I don’t quite understand what you mean…”
“If it were him, wouldn’t he be able to appoint you to a higher position?”
Shallen was implying that following the Temple Head’s will could lead to a promise—even to the rank of Cardinal.
“And didn’t he say that a Saintess in this era is a replaceable existence?”
“…Even so, how could I betray the daughter of Gloria, whom I believe in?”
“Is that why you told me everything?”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“And you didn’t even consider how long my divine power might last?”
“I believed that you could change this place, Saintess.”
Shallen realized again that the small changes she had made could push someone else into making a great decision.
“Would you still feel the same, even if that change required your death?”
The priest hesitated for a moment, then nodded shortly.
“Death would also be a severe punishment for those who do not receive mercy.”
That voice was not Philip’s.
It was Alec’s.
He walked toward them with long strides and stopped beside Philip, who immediately grew wary.
“So it’s you, Commander.”
“I greet you, Saintess.”
“Did you come looking for me?”
“Yes.”
Recently, when Shallen had visited the believers’ prayer hall and secretly gone to the village, she had exchanged a few words with the Commander.
Aside from that, there had been no meetings, no conversations.
Shallen already knew that both of them had just met the Temple Head.
She hadn’t expected the Holy Knight Commander to stand on her side.
Though he had only just taken the position, she believed he could turn to the Temple Head at any time.
Still—this situation wasn’t bad for her.
“May I ask why you chose to come to me, Commander?”
It was a deliberately ambiguous question.
Why me?
Alec, quick to grasp her intent, answered without hesitation.
“I am a knight sworn to protect the Melissa Temple. Following the Saintess is only natural.”
It meant that to protect Melissa, he would stand with the one who sought to protect her.
Alec was sincere.
And yet, Shallen couldn’t entirely erase her doubts.
When she lifted her gaze toward the sky, both men knelt on one knee at once.
“Please trust us.”
At Alec’s voice, Shallen raised one eyebrow.
“What you desire from me—is it peace for this place?”
“Yes.”
“You are Melissa’s hope, Saintess.”
Once someone learns the truth of this place, there are only two choices—
to rot together with it, or to cut it away and hope for change.
Shallen had once thought the same.
At least these two had chosen the latter.
When she turned and silently looked down at them, Philip spoke.
“If I harbor any other intentions, I will accept that severe punishment. Please take my oath.”
“Please accept it, Saintess.”
“And even if that punishment is death?”
She repeated what she had said earlier—
a reminder that betrayal would turn the blade toward them.
“Yes. Even if it is death.”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“Very well. I look forward to working with you.”
Shallen smiled softly, as though satisfied with their answers, and placed her hand gently atop their heads.
***
As if waiting for her to gain power, people who declared themselves her allies began to appear.
But two were not enough.
Seven years remained until she would step down as Saintess.
Even that timeline could change due to her regression.
Everything had to be resolved before then.
She had to prevent the Melissa Temple from becoming a holy nation—
And even if she failed, she had to ensure that bloodshed never followed.
All she knew now was this:
The commoners who came to Melissa were usually people of the Melissa Sanctuary, belonging to no nation.
The nobles, on the other hand, came from various kingdoms and empires.
She tried to trace back the blurred memories of her past life—
the relationship between Kardin’s Helen Kingdom and the Nicholas Kingdom.
But nothing surfaced from her time as a saintess.
It wasn’t a vague memory—it was a limitation.
A puppet saintess had never been allowed to see deeply or widely.
So she still didn’t know whether those two kingdoms had always been on bad terms or if it only happened later.
According to Alec, there had been no war between them.
She imagined—vaguely—Helen and Nicholas forming an alliance.
If that happened, perhaps Kardin would not meet his death.
This life was not for her own sake.
She had to remember—it was a life meant to protect him.
A life of atonement.
Since the Temple Head had now taken an interest in Kardin, she needed to distance herself from him even more.
Attention that brought no good had to be avoided immediately.
The war had been nothing more than the Temple Head’s filthy ambition to be the next Pope.
Among those punished by her nightmares, he was the only one still moving.
He might be an opponent too great for her power alone.
She needed to gather more people who could become her strength—
enough to pull him down.
Aside from those she had already punished, who else must she be wary of?
Her head began to ache, and she rubbed her temples with both hands.
Knock, knock.
At the oddly cheerful sound—tinged with excitement—she spoke.
“Come in, Amy.”
Amy entered with a bright smile on her face.
“Saintess! I delivered the letter safely!”
“I told you there was no need to go in person.”
Amy shook her head vigorously, insisting it was her duty.
Her concern for Shallen was touching—but right now, it was dangerous.
“Amy. Never do that again. And you must never speak of him to anyone.”
She had no intention of exchanging letters with him again ,
but she needed to warn Amy as well.
Despite her serious tone, Amy only smiled and nodded.
Seeing that innocence, Shallen couldn’t help but soften her expression.
“Saintess, are you really nothing with the Grand Duke?!”
“There’s absolutely nothing between us.”
At her flat reply, Amy looked disappointed.
“It’s late now, so go rest. And remember what I said earlier.”
“Yes! I’ll remember!”
At the sound of the door creaking shut, Shallen leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes.
It had been a very long day.
