The day of the Saint’s public debut was, annoyingly enough, blessed with perfect weather.
If there’s such a thing as a cloudless blue sky, this is it.
I had rested from purification for several days to store up sacred power, got plenty of sleep the night before, and even then, the morning sun was so bright I had to squint. After letting out a big yawn, I shaved and reached for my clothes.
Today, I wouldn’t be wearing the usual navy knight’s uniform. Instead, I had to put on ceremonial formal attire.
It was the same navy color, but with gold embroidery and a red-lined cape with more embroidery to match. There were gold cords and tassels, along with a beautifully sheathed sword. By the time I put everything on, I’d probably be sparkling like some kind of decorated doll.
Even an old man can shine in formalwear, I guess.
Hopefully, it’ll help me blend in with the crowd a little better.
I slipped on the shirt, then the trousers, and finally the jacket before turning my attention to the accessories. Since I had no idea what the finished outfit was supposed to look like, I didn’t know where half these things were supposed to go.
And to top it all off, I’d never worn a sword at my waist before.
In the village, I went hunting often, but I used a bow and spear. The only knife I ever carried was a small one strapped to my back, and that’s not exactly the same as a sword.
As I was laying out the accessories on the bed, trying to figure things out, Veerant showed up.
He was already dressed in formalwear, and it made him look 20% more dazzling than usual.
Even without sacred power, he radiated a light of his own.
Standing next to Emilia in her pure white robes, he’d probably look even more divine.
“Shall I help you with that?” he offered.
“Oh, uh, yeah… please,” I replied, suddenly realizing I’d been staring at him. I averted my eyes, feeling a little embarrassed.
When a good-looking person dresses up, they have this strange kind of magnetism.
During the ceremony today, most of the attention would probably be on Veerant and Emilia. I could practically picture all the eyes being drawn to them, like moths to a flame.
As the plain old guy standing next to them, it’d be a relief not to be the center of attention. I could only hope they kept hogging the spotlight.
While I was lost in those irrelevant thoughts, Veerant quickly got to work on my outfit. He attached the braided cords to my shoulder, clipped on the decorative tassels, and fastened the gold clasp for the cape. Turns out, the gold hardware was for securing the cape after all.
Even though I was watching him closely, I doubted I’d be able to dress myself like this on my own.
Hopefully, there wouldn’t be a next time.
Once all the accessories were in place and the sword was hanging from my waist, Veerant reached for my hair.
I’d already checked for bedhead, but apparently, that wasn’t enough.
“Technically, this is something a professional hairdresser should handle,” he said, brushing my hair and working in some styling product.
I guess wearing the uniform of the Saint’s personal knights meant I had to look the part too.
Must be a hassle.
The gentle, careful way Veerant styled my hair was surprisingly comforting, and before long, his hands fell away.
In the mirror, I saw a version of myself that looked about 50% more presentable.
Thanks to the clothes and hair, I went from a worn-out old man to at least a tidy one.
From a distance, I might even pass for a knight.
The power of formalwear truly is remarkable.
As I thanked Veerant, I heard the sound of loud cheers coming from outside.
It was time for the parade to begin.
✢
The parade started with a marching band, followed by rows of knights in white uniforms. They looked a lot like the uniform Veerant used to wear, probably with the only difference being that these were formal versions.
While their attire wasn’t as ornate as ours, the bright white fabric was almost blinding in the sunlight.
Next in line were the Saint’s personal knights, dressed in the same navy formalwear I had on.
At the front rode Zildo, the former head knight of the previous Saint. All the knights, except for me and Veerant, were mounted on horseback, forming a protective formation around the carriage.
I couldn’t help but wonder how much practice it took for them to synchronize their movements so perfectly.
These guys are seriously impressive.
As I marveled at their skill, the carriage we were in slowly began to move.
In front of me, Emilia stiffened, her shoulders trembling slightly as she clenched her hands in her lap.
She was clearly nervous.
“You alright?” I asked.
“Sei—Zeph-sama, I’m fine… Just a little nervous.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard. Just smile and wave, that should be enough. …Though, I guess the scary knights might scold you for that.”
Like Veerant, or Veerant, or Veerant, I muttered quietly enough that only Emilia could hear, but Veerant’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
Did he actually catch that? His hearing’s way too sharp.
“…I’m not angry. I’m just surprised that such words would come from you, Zeph.”
“See? Scary, right?” I shrugged at Veerant’s frown, making Emilia giggle softly.
Her golden tiara jingled, catching the sunlight and making her pure white outfit shimmer as if she were radiating light herself.
The color had returned to her pale cheeks, and her smile was so lovely that the crowd below was left in silent awe.
…It’s truly a mystery why God chose me to be the Saint instead of her.
✢
After making a complete loop around the capital, the carriage finally arrived back at the square in front of the temple.
The square sat halfway along the grand avenue that led straight from the temple. Large stone columns, each wide enough for two people to wrap their arms around, lined the perimeter, and intricate carvings decorated their surfaces.
But the most striking feature of the square was undoubtedly the alabaster tower at its center.
It was a three-story tower with a design so elegant it seemed like something out of a fairytale, with its conical top seemingly sliced off. Even the roof could fit at least twenty people, giving a sense of just how large the structure was.
At the top of the tower stood a radiant white statue of the deity, gazing up at the sky.
Before that statue, Emilia knelt as twelve knights, including myself, formed a protective circle around her, and the solemn ritual began.
In the hushed square, Emilia’s voice echoed, clear and melodious like the chime of a bell.
Even the wind seemed to listen, mesmerized by the sacred words she spoke.
Despite the large crowd, the square remained eerily quiet as I, too, softly recited the sacred verses, weaving my sacred power together.
I imagined it like a spider’s web, strands stretching out in every direction, and then building more threads across them. By repeating this, I wove a fine net, pouring my sacred power generously into it, covering the entire capital without leaving a single gap.
With everything in place, the ritual came to a close.
A prayer to the gods.
The purification of the capital.
And the blessing of the people.
All performed in one go, leaving me thoroughly drained of my sacred power. But it seemed to have gone well enough.
Looking down at the square, I could see everything was shimmering as if bathed in soft light, the blessing working its magic.
Thanks to this, the people would be protected from monsters and would likely stay free from illness or injury for a time.
As Emilia rose slowly to her feet, a deafening roar of applause and cheers erupted from the crowd.
She turned toward me with a relieved smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
She’d been tense the whole time, but it seemed like everything had gone off without a hitch.
Following her lead, I stepped forward to the edge of the tower and looked out over the sea of people.
“Long live the Saint!”
The crowd’s cheers and applause surged like waves, spreading in ripples across the square.
Faces filled with excitement, flushed with joy, and smiles stretching from ear to ear.
People, people, people, all of them draped in the shimmering light of the blessing, waving and swaying with happiness.
The cheers were so loud, they seemed to shake the very ground, ringing in my ears like a drum.
—Wait, what?
Amidst the whirlpool of excitement, I noticed something strange purely by chance.
A small gap in the blessing that should have covered everything like a net.
Like a blot of ink spilled on a white page, or a hole in a piece of clothing.
It felt ominous, unsettling, and instinctively filled me with dread.
The moment I turned my attention to that strange spot, something shot out from it.
And it was heading straight for Emilia, who was smiling and waving innocently.
Without thinking, my body moved.
I grabbed Emilia’s arm and pulled her close, shielding her with my body.
At the same moment, a sharp pain radiated through my back, followed by a burning sensation rather than pain.
Whatever had been launched pierced through my cape and uniform, sinking deep into my flesh.
If it had hit Emilia instead, there’s no way she would’ve been unharmed.
“…!”
“Saint-sama!”
Emilia gasped, and Veerant shouted in alarm.
Even though I’d been telling him to call me by name, and he’d finally started doing so recently, I guess the panic made him forget.
I shot him a look, silently telling him to stay put, and gently released Emilia.
She was trembling, her face pale as a sheet, but it seemed she hadn’t been hurt.
That ominous presence was gone now, and it seemed the danger had passed.
That was a close one.
“I’m fine. Just keep smiling,” I whispered with a strained smile, before turning away quietly.
No one could know that the Saint had been targeted during the public ceremony.
No one could see the blood spilled in this sacred place.
I straightened my back and walked calmly until I was out of sight of the crowd.
Only then did my legs give out beneath me, and I collapsed, my entire body numb from the injury spreading across my back.
I could no longer stand.
