“The dean’s office is not a clinic.”
The Saint dropped some weird words. Ivan tilted his head.
In the place called a clinic, they would still apply healing potions to external injuries, or at best, a newly ordained priest would cast a heal spell.
Does it mean that students should experience such a terrible experience even though there is a Saint?
Seeing Ivan’s face, the Saint pounded her chest in frustration. (Ivan didn’t look away, even though she was shaking. He was a devout person.)
“No! I’ve got my own work too! Do you know how busy I am? I just got appointed this year! The workload’s not handed over, and everyone—freshmen, undergrads, professors—keeps babbling. The course structure is a mess. Why’s the university like this!” (Partricia)
Ivan and Enrique nodded as they watched the Saint vent about the medieval curriculum.
They couldn’t say much, but they had to agree at first.
Ivan turned away from the poor religious person who was diligently lamenting her situation. The department head’s office had a quiet charm.
It was unclear if it was the previous head’s taste or the Saint’s, but there were tons of plants.
Ivan, not much of a botanist, killed time by grabbing a plant’s leaves. (He’s a gardener.)
The orchid leaf snapped off. It broke cheerfully because it was the thickest and most beautiful stem.
Ivan turned without changing his expression. Fortunately, the Saint seemed not to notice. She was talking to Enrique about the class, still fuming.
Was it Brave New World? There was a similar scene in that noir movie. He turned the pot expressionlessly. The pot turned around to hide the broken leaf.
“Okay, I get you’re having a hard time, Patty. I was wrong.” (Enrique)
“Why don’t you take this opportunity to convert? I will always be waiting for you with an open heart, Enrique.” (Patricia)
“That’s not converting, that’s death….”
The Saint, closest to heaven in this world after the Pope, crushed Enrique with divine power. It seemed Enrique’s body had shrunk a bit.
Enrique cautiously said, in a submissive posture, “Um. Hmm. Oh, right. Patty, listen, don’t be surprised. I came to say something, but I forgot. Listen to me.” (Enrique)
“Yes, before you say anything, tell me it’s less surprising than 50 freshmen in critical condition.” (Patricia)
Enrique laughed, opening his mouth.
“This guy was dragged here.” (Enrique)
“Yeah, I’m aware. When the orphanage director turned gardener, I was considering paying Elize a visit. What’s she doing with a retired man?” (Patricia)
“No, you idiot. He was dragged here. Like Max. From another world.” (Enrique)
The Saint spit out tea and blinked. She coughed, then finally straightened.
“Why did you tell me this now…?” (Patricia)
“He thought he was the only one. Not the type for counseling.” (Enrique)
“Oh my God….” (Patricia)
The Saint looked at Ivan, swallowing. She spoke in a trembling voice.
“How lonely he must have been… He grew a beard because of that shock… Poor Brother Cyril….” (Patricia)
“No. That’s not the reason.” (Ivan)
“It’s okay. It’s all okay….” (Patricia)
The Saint smiled, taking Ivan’s hand. Her divine power flowed through Ivan’s veins. It was warm.
Even as Enrique fainted, the Saint smiled warmly at Ivan.
“It’s okay, brother… You’re not strange. Many like you, and there’ll be more. Oh, Lord. Guide this poor lamb…
“I feel strange and awkward in this situation right now.” (Ivan)
“That’s understandable. That’s understandable… The hero was the same way…” (Patricia)
She recalled the day she was moved to tears learning he retired to run an orphanage.
This young man, despite a war-filled childhood, grew strong and kind, caring for unfortunate children.
Wasn’t that the Lord’s work?
The Saint supported Ivan’s retirement, donating each year. She even named the orphanage!
Look at Ivan now.
Orphanages are poor, with directors often exploiting orphans. But this man… works hard for his income, wearing dirty clothes and wiping sweat with a burnt towel.
Clearly, it’s to raise the children more abundantly, isn’t it?
“Oh, my…” (Patricia)
Even from another world, even for “alien” orphans unrelated to him…
How could it be?
The Saint’s cheeks reddened.
“Brother Cyril…” (Patricia)
“I’d prefer if you didn’t call me that.” (Ivan)
“I like your baptismal name.” (Patricia)
“I was too young when I decided on it.” (Ivan)
Ivan withdrew his hand, glancing at Enrique, who was making a playful expression. The Saint made the sign of the cross and put her hand on her chest.
“I thought you were gay, Brother.” (Patricia)
Enrique choked and pounded her chest.
“Well, if you think about how coldly you rejected those people, it’s only natural.” (Patricia)
“…There were circumstances.” (Ivan)
“Of course, of course.” (Patricia)
Royal guards couldn’t be personally intimate with nobles or influential people. When known as “Little” Ivan, a hot commodity in the marriage market, he was also a royal guard.
His goal was to return to Earth. How could he play a love game?
That feeling hasn’t changed much. The only change is he’s no longer a hot commodity.
“It was because of the vow, wasn’t it? The gospel vows of poverty, purity, and obedience when baptized.” (Patricia)
The three virtues vowed at baptism: poverty, purity, and obedience.
Ivan’s appearance is humble, over thirty without rumors, pure, and having given up fame and position.
Such faithfulness is like a picture! The Saint nodded.
“Don’t become a priest. You really won’t be able to get married.” (Patricia)
Ivan sighed. He respected vows but knew he wasn’t a normal man.
He was from another world, and celibacy might not be feasible.
“But if you continue so chastely, maybe… maybe God will bestow His favor. Love between people is the greatest blessing under heaven.” (Patricia)
“I must go to Brother’s orphanage today. Let’s go together.” (Patricia)
“You said you didn’t finish your work.” (Enrique)
“The only person above me in this school is the president, and the only person above me in this world is the Lord God. Enrique.”
Enrique quietly agreed.
The Saint is uncomfortable. Ivan realizes this obvious fact again.
Many reasons—battlefield childhood, devoutness, and her being a major orphanage sponsor.
Equal relationships with purse string holders are impossible. Based on this, Ivan maintained a distance from sponsors.
“Oh… Lord. Look at this beautiful sight…
The Saint wept as she walked from the entrance of the orphanage. Naturally, the orphans gathered around her, squealing.
Their faces were full of life, and their cheeks were plump. No sign of poverty anywhere. The only one in the orphanage who looked the most impoverished was Ivan…!
The facilities were excellent, and all the doors opened smoothly with clean, well-oiled hinges. Soft sponges were carefully added to the ends of the corridors and the corners of the furniture.
The Saint looked at the large graffiti painted in a corner of the orphanage building, tears welling up in her eyes.
The graffiti, drawn by some playful orphan, was a picture of a bearded monster frowning as he handed out presents.
The love of the children was so palpable that the Saint finally pressed her eyes and leaned against the wall.
“You have already become a good father…” (Patricia)
“Oh my God.” (Patricia)
“Originally, the most wonderful thing is the relationship born of the heart. Cyril Brother… I am too dazzled… Oh Lord…” (Patricia)
“Are you trying to kill me with laughter? Disciple. I’m starting to feel a little burdened. Can I go now?” (Enrique)
Enrique covered her forehead with her hand and groaned in pain.
**Author’s Note (Author’s Commentary):**
The reason Ivan is embarrassed by his baptismal name… can be inferred from Elizaveta’s name!
*Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov
Ivan baptism’s name = Cyril
Kirillovna = Cyril’s Love?)