Vigrind looked up at the blue sky.
The sky is wonderfully clear and blue.
Even though it’s winter, the weather is unusually warm.
On this fine day in Evian, fluffy white clouds play across the clear sky.
There’s still plenty of time before the meeting he promised to Yona.
He’d already heard the order of events for the charity event, and apparently, the upper echelons of the Evian Diocese, including Bishop Poby, would only saunter into the venue in the afternoon.
It’s ridiculous from any angle, but after they all show up, it’s Yona who needs to come in and stir things up for anything to go smoothly.
One could only hope it would be a disgrace for the Church of the Celestial God.
Vigrind steadied his mind as he thought this.
The power and authority bestowed upon him by the Celestial God must be intended for such a use.
The Celestial God was watching over everything.
The humans living on this land, created by the Celestial God, continue to ridicule and slander each other, using the name of the Celestial God to fulfill their own selfish desires, despite the grace they have received.
Seeing such a sight, the Celestial God must have kept silent in the end, choosing not to reveal Himself, and probably withheld His blessings as well.
Perhaps He could not bear to punish the humans but wished for them to realize it themselves.
Now he must respond to that will.
If he could show how Yona gracefully navigates through the colossal disaster, and thereby fortifies the Church of the Celestial God once more.
Perhaps again, with a compassionate smile, He would reveal that sight to the humans.
*
The people in the back alley had been watching a little girl with curious eyes for a while.
She was the same girl who had attended the event a few days ago.
Though she wasn’t dressed extravagantly, the sight of her meandering around and handing out various necessities to the poor was somewhat peculiar, but the impoverished simply thought of her as a novice priest.
However, today, at the charity event, that same girl arrived riding a gleaming carriage, leaving the poor no choice but to be astonished.
Moreover, that girl was a saint—the saint rumored to have come out from Evian.
Thus, their astonishment only grew.
The back alleys of Evian were tangled with various problems.
There were issues regarding the city’s security, but the fact that a dark cult had operated from the community center of these alleys loomed largest.
It was not a good sign that a saint of the Church of the Celestial God had emerged from a town where a dark cult had been active, and even though investigations revealed that the residents of the alleys were not the core group but rather external infiltrators causing trouble, it didn’t help the situation.
That such a saint had come directly to this place was already surprising enough, but the fact that she was rolling up her sleeves to distribute relief supplies to the poor was even more astonishing.
It was surprising enough that she came all this way, but even more astonishing was the sight of the Saint herself rolling up her sleeves and handing out supplies to the poor.
People were busy whispering among themselves.
Some were talking about how bold she was, while others mentioned how saintly she appeared.
And by the side of such a saint, vigilantly scanning the area for any suspicious characters, stood the man—Ludvik.
It was a picturesque scene of a hero and a saint, but why was the saint personally distributing supplies like this?
The poor couldn’t quite wrap their heads around it.
Why would someone as high and mighty as a saint do a job that could easily be delegated to others? It was hard to comprehend.
“Don’t skip meals, make sure to eat a little bit, okay?”
“If things are really tough, please come to the Cathedral. The Divine Creator loves us all.”
“Now that your wounds have healed, let’s start doing some small work on your own.”
“The Divine Creator loves everyone. Sending me here, too, is part of His will to care for you.”
Not a single moment was spent treating anyone carelessly.
Was this what a saint really was?
The poor clutched the supplies handed out by Vigrind tightly, yet they couldn’t bring themselves to go home just yet.
They wanted to soak in even a little more of that golden light radiated by the small girl known as the Saint.
They yearned to feel that divine aura just a bit longer.
‘…What’s this feeling…?’
Vigrind frequently glanced around, sensing something strange.
It wasn’t magic—if it were, she wouldn’t have missed it. This tingling sensation in her spine wasn’t magic.
But there had clearly been a gaze fixed on her since earlier, following her every move.
There were many eyes around her, but none were as chilling as this one.
Even though no one was there, it felt like an eerie presence was watching her.
Just when she thought the feeling had vanished—
Vigrind finally noticed the man standing in front of her.
He was a tall, middle-aged man.
He had a good physique, and although his clothes looked old, they were definitely high-quality and formal.
His graying hair was thick and long, cascading over his shoulders, while neatly trimmed silver facial hair added a sense of dignified charm.
However, as Vigrind looked at the man, she felt a shiver at the color of his face.
I flinched at his pale complexion.
His face was so white it looked like he might be a wandering corpse.
There was not a hint of vitality on his face, no trace of color whatsoever.
Only his unusually red lips served as proof that he was indeed alive.
“…Saint.”
“Ah, um.”
Priest Vigrind, who had been staring blankly at the man, suddenly jolted and picked up some clothing before putting it back down.
Looking at the man’s attire, it was clear he was someone who didn’t need such clothing.
I wondered how hungry he must be to look so devoid of color—thinking that, Vigrind picked up a wooden box full of groceries.
“This is food. I think you’ll need this.”
“…Is that so?”
That gloomy voice.
If melancholy took form, it would sound like this.
The man faintly smiled as he accepted the box.
“It’s warm…”
As their hands brushed while passing the box, the man looked at his own hand and muttered.
“Is it because you’re a saint?”
“Huh?”
“Your hands are really warm.”
Seeing the man trailing off with his words, Vigrind awkwardly smiled back.
How much had he longed for human warmth that he would assume she was a saint just because her hands were warm?
“Everyone’s hands are warm usually.”
But the man’s hands were not.
Only then did Vigrind realize how very cold the man’s hands were.
Moreover, there was not a hint of elasticity in his skin.
That was where a strange sense of foreboding began.
A chill mixed with an uncomfortable sensation seemed to envelop Vigrind.
“Um… Do you need anything else?”
Even so, she couldn’t just dismiss someone who came asking for help.
Vigrind forced a smile and asked him.
“No, not yet… not yet.”
The man slowly shook his head.
‘Not yet…?’
Just as Vigrind was about to ask him what that meant, she heard a loud shout.
“The Bishop has arrived—!”
With that booming voice, the sound of the carriage horn echoed.
At the same time, an open carriage carrying the choir turned into the back alley, starting to sing a bright and cheerful hymn.
Such a hymn was completely mismatched with this gloomy alley.
And trailing into the alley was an exceptionally lavish carriage.
A magic carriage that didn’t even need a driver rolled into a nearby plaza where a grand event was taking place and came to a stop.
A few priests quickly jumped out and spread a golden carpet wide across the floor.
Leader Nii spread the golden carpet wide on the floor.
As he smoothed out the carpet without a wrinkle, the carriage door slowly opened, revealing Bishop Poby.
“Wow, what a lovely day! It’s a weather that suits the grace bestowed by the Celestial God perfectly!”
Poby stepped down from the carriage, his chubby cheeks wobbling like jelly.
Around him were priests lined up, and the actual needy folks in the back alleys, who were supposed to receive aid, hesitated and stepped back, intimidated by the clergy’s momentum.
And this scene was being watched closely by Vigrind.
“—Bishop Poby, can you tone it down a little?”
A sharp voice.
Vigrind stepped forward, confronting Poby.
Thanks to Poby’s unnecessarily extravagant entrance, the needy were being pushed aside.
This relief event, meant to deliver aid and instill a will to live in the less fortunate, had turned into a venue for the clergy to flaunt themselves.
Vigrind had seen this kind of thing happening multiple times during his priest days at similar relief events.
Back then, he hadn’t thought much of it, but looking at it now, it seemed absurd.
So very absurd.
“Saint, what do you mean by that? What exactly am I supposed to tone down?”
Despite asking, there was clear displeasure in Poby’s gaze.
While having a saint show up was nice, the appearance of a heretic dampened the mood.
Besides, it would be great if the saint could just behave herself, but just a few days ago, she had suddenly insisted on fulfilling her divine mission, making her a real thorn in his side.
“Isn’t the purpose of this relief event to widely spread the will, teachings, and love of the Celestial God? You’re not only late but also pushing aside those who are in need, so is this really what a bishop should be doing?”
“Oh? Is that so? My sincerest apologies then. As one ages, one’s eyesight gets blurry, doesn’t it? Quite the predicament!”
At that, Poby gestured around him.
Following his cue, the clergy forced fake smiles and dispersed to approach the needy.
……
Vigrind silently observed this scene.
Is this why the Celestial God doesn’t come to the Church of the Celestial God?
It was utterly disheartening.
But things would soon change.
Yona’s appearance was drawing near—
Once Yona showed up and exposed the ineffectiveness of the Church of the Celestial God, the faces of self-serving clergy, including Poby, would surely twist in dismay.
Vigrind bit back his irritation.
Even a saint could be exasperating.
It was a moment of newfound realization.
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