Chapter: 386
As I observed the tears streaming down Benedict’s face, I reached out to wipe them away.
It wasn’t exactly an action you’d expect from a mesugaki, but nothing stopped me.
With a trip to the Grand Shrine, some restrictions on my behavior had been lifted. Or maybe this was exactly the kind of behavior Lucy wished for.
Watching Benedict’s expression go blank brought my rising emotions into sharper focus.
And so, I understood. I understood how Lucy felt about Benedict, her father.
“Lucy.”
The girl suffering under the curse had harbored resentment towards her father. She harbored hatred for the one who left her alone in hell. She wished to impose the original sin of not saving her mother onto Benedict.
However, this blame didn’t last long. Benedict’s dedication toward her had lifted that resentment.
“Lucy…”
Yet, Lucy couldn’t express her feelings to Benedict. There were too many mistakes she had made before realizing his dedication.
How could a child, who lost her truthfulness to a curse, acknowledge her wrongs and express her sincere feelings?
“Will you forgive this foolish father?”
Reading all these emotions, I was convinced once again that Lucy was still inside me.
You want me to convey the words you couldn’t say to Benedict, right? Lucy?
If that’s your wish, I’d gladly do it.
“Lucy?”
I didn’t answer Benedict’s question. I knew that the curse of the mesugaki skill lingering inside me would twist my words of forgiveness. Instead, I straightened my knees and walked over to Benedict, trying to wrap my arms around his waist…
But I failed.
No way! Is it reasonable that I put all my effort into this and couldn’t even wrap my arms around his waist?! Why is this guy so unnecessarily big?
After failing my original goal, I took a step back and looked up at the kneeling Benedict, searching for my next target.
While hugging his waist was out of reach, there was something else I could manage. I jumped up and latched onto his neck, finally getting him to carefully embrace me.
“This is instead of an answer, huh?”
Benedict laughed while crying. Understanding my intent, he wept endlessly.
He sank to his knees, shedding the tears he had held back all this time.
The liquid flowing from his large face was annoyingly excessive, but I couldn’t escape his embrace.
Even though I couldn’t breathe under his grip, he was careful enough not to suffocate me, but still, I found it impossible to break free from his arms.
It was a long while of weeping before Benedict regained his senses, right around when my clothes were soaked through like it had been in the rain.
As I finally emerged from his embrace, I didn’t hide the displeasure on my face.
The word “fatherly love” was too weak to summarize my discomfort.
Noticing my irritation, Benedict’s face, now puffed up like an orc, led him to spout words of apology, but the golden time had long passed.
If he had been perceptive, he would have let me go the moment I complained.
“Freaky Papa, you’re really feeling good making your daughter all damp like this?”
“Ah, no. I… Lucy, you know it’s not because I wanted this.”
“Claiming you’re under mental strain, huh? Got it, Papa. I’ll be sure to hear about your misdeeds from beyond the bars.”
“Lucy?!”
“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if rumors spread that the hero who saved the kingdom was actually a perv targeting his daughter? Right?”
“W-wait a second. It’s true that this foolish father has made mistakes, but they aren’t serious enough to warrant social execution, are they?!”
Benedict, who was desperately flailing his arms to justify himself, was silenced by the cold look I shot him.
It couldn’t be helped. Even if he was forgiven for his past sins, the fact remains that he is a doting father isn’t changing.
Am I feeling guilty for tormenting this doting father, Benedict?
Not at all! The fact that no feelings were arising, even while I was teasing Benedict, means Lucy also thought this was justified. So why should I feel guilty?
Tormenting Benedict under Lucy’s watchful gaze, I only stopped after he promised to do anything to be forgiven.
“Really? Papa? You promised you’d do anything, right? You’re not going to act like a loser saying, ‘This isn’t allowed’ and ‘That’s also not allowed,’ are you?”
“…Um, Lucy. Just within the bounds of common sense, okay?”
“If you keep acting stingy, I’ll spill everything you’ve done to Mama at her grave.”
“I’ve done wrong. It’s true, so please don’t say a word to Mira!”
After valiantly dying under my relentless onslaught, Benedict finally promised to fulfill whatever I asked, but the unease was clear on his face.
The outdated image of Lucy in his mind meant he might be thinking of some extravagant demand.
Of course, I currently had no specific demand in mind. I was just teasing him, and the words slipped out naturally.
Is there something I should be asking Benedict right now? Reflecting on it, nothing particular came to mind.
…Ah. A good idea popped into my head.
Once we come back to the kingdom with Heyshan, Karia took her to the Second Queen, so I’m sure the quest will be completed in a few days. Then I’ll receive a stat bonus.
That means my four stats could surpass 100. Thinking about the boost from that, maybe I could pull a fast one on Benedict?
Imagining that scene, I couldn’t help but smirk and turned my voice towards Benedict.
“Papa.”
“Wh-what are you thinking of asking when you’re smiling like that…?”
“I’m going to smash you, my pathetic dumb Papa, with my mace.”
“…Huh?”
“Has your face turned into a troll, causing your intelligence to drop too? Why can’t you get such a simple sentence? Seriously. I’m being kind here, so let me explain for my dimwit Papa: Let’s spar. S-P-A-R.”
*
After finishing all church duties, Phoebe sat alone, preparing for her morning prayer, staring blankly at a blank piece of paper before finally thudding her forehead onto the desk.
“What to do? My mind is totally blank.”
Normally, Phoebe wouldn’t have fretted about the contents of her morning prayers.
In the past, when she had still been clumsy in her role as a saintess, she struggled with various matters, but over the years of repetitive practice, she could finish her preparation in about thirty minutes.
The reason she was grappling so now was because her thoughts were entirely filled with the face of one individual.
“If I had known, I would have wrapped everything up and contacted the Young Lady.”
Phoebe had just spoken with Lucy through the crystal orb moments before.
There was nothing particularly special about the conversation’s content, but even after a few minutes, Phoebe couldn’t shake the scenery of their exchange from her mind.
It was unavoidable. Lucy, always with a playful and arrogant smile, had shown a pure childlike smile for the first time, a glow of genuine emotion that seemed unlikely to come from her.
Such a heartfelt smile from an inherently beautiful and sacred person held enough power to overthrow even the saintess of the Lord’s Church.
“Aah, so unfair! I also want to see that smile with my own two eyes. I want to share laughter with her!”
In a room where no one else could see, Phoebe flailed her arms about in a tantrum, eventually sprawled across the desk with a deep sigh.
There was still much left to do at the church.
Though the New Year’s official events would soon come to a close, realistically, it was far-fetched to think she could escape that easily. There were countless responsibilities to fulfill as a saintess.
Looking back at her experiences, it seemed she wouldn’t get to see the Young Lady until after the academy reopened.
Knowing well the warmth of the sun but unable to be next to it left her feeling disheartened. Just then, a knock at the door startled her, raising her head.
“Saintess, could you step out for a moment?”
The voice from outside the door was infinitely familiar to her.
The head of the current Lord’s Church. A powerful figure that no one could casually approach—a pillar of strength without a trace of disarray even in their old age. Surely, they were the one who had played a role in making Phoebe the false saintess. The very person she had wished to avoid meeting the most.
The Pope.
“I’ll be right out, Your Holiness.”
“There’s no rush, so take your time preparing.”
Phoebe quickly tidied her outfit and checked her reflection in the mirror.
Gone was the girl who had just been throwing a fit. The Phoebe reflected back was clean enough that anyone would recognize her as a saintess.
With a deep breath to calm her nerves, Phoebe carefully opened the door, greeted with the Pope’s kind smile.
“It’s been a while, Saintess.”
“…Indeed it has, Your Holiness.”
Phoebe bowed politely, reflecting on the warmth surrounding the Pope.
Why can’t I see anything but emptiness around him? No warmth. No coldness. Nothing else shows.
The divine essence he possessed clearly dwarfed all comparisons, yet somehow…
“Your time at the academy seems to have brought you enlightenment.”
Phoebe’s contemplation was interrupted by the Pope’s words. He had noticed her change immediately upon seeing her. It seemed deceiving His Holiness was no simple task.
“Yes. I’ve met some wonderful people there.”
“That must also be the guidance of the Lord. Truly, a good thing.”
The Pope’s gaze toward Phoebe was endlessly warm. It was hard to believe that he had been the one to choose her as the false saintess.
“Saintess.”
“Yes, Your Holiness?”
“Would you consider taking a short vacation?”
“A vacation… you say?”
“After the events leading up to the New Year, of course. You’ve worked hard, and you deserve appropriate compensation.”
Caught off guard by the unexpected proposal, Phoebe froze while the Pope mentioned he would send detailed information in writing before leaving.
Left alone, she stared blankly at the spot where the Pope had just been standing, cocking her head in confusion.
What on earth is His Holiness thinking?
*
Two days after Benedict cried enough to fill a well, on a sunny morning after a snowstorm cleared, I stood opposite him, shield and mace raised high.
Benedict stood unarmed but no one dared to question him.
The man himself was a literal monster, almost akin to a weapon.
“Lucy, are you really going to spar?”
Despite exuding a natural aura of intimidation, Benedict’s expression was filled with anxiety. He was worried I might get hurt if he accidentally messed up.
“Can’t a pathetic dad even control his own strength?”
Though I understood his concerns, I didn’t back down. I was curious about the extent of the strongest person in this continent.
“I’m not saying that, but just in case!”
“Then the pathetic Papa should just take it like a punching bag, right?! You’re big enough for that!”
I wanted to show Benedict my current strength.
Even as I provoked him with sincere words, Benedict’s awkward hesitation made me chuckle as I tightened my grip on the mace.
I had one goal.
I wanted to land a hit on Benedict.
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