When I woke up, there was a ceiling I didn’t recognise above me.
A ceiling… but could this really be called a ceiling?
Pillars extended vertically from the four corners of the bed, with curtains draped around them. Above, in what you’d call the ceiling area of the room, was an incredibly beautiful painting.
I hadn’t seen many paintings before, but this one seemed to depict gods and angels.
So, does that mean I’m in… somewhere important? As I sat up and carelessly swept the curtains aside, there stood the handsome knight.
His face was almost too dazzling to look at.
“Saint-sama, you’re awake?”
“A-ah…”
Saint.
Right, I’m supposed to be a Saint.
I remember meeting the Saint-sama for the ritual, and then feeling my consciousness rapidly fade away.
I also remember my body wobbling, and thinking at least I should fall in a direction where there was no one to hit, but someone had supported me firmly.
There was only one person there who would’ve caught me, so it must’ve been this knight… I think that much is clear. But now I’m wondering what happened after that.
I had collapsed in that white room with the statue of the god, but now I was lying on a bed somewhere. Was this the waiting room they had first taken me to?
How had I been brought here, and by whom?
…There’s only one answer.
I may be a bit scrawny, but I’m still a grown man.
It must have been heavy. I really caused some trouble.
“Uh, sorry.”
I had no idea what happened to the girl, but she could’ve been carried easily even if she had fainted.
But a grown man? Just getting me onto a cart would’ve been a hassle.
Not that I even know if there was a cart here.
“No need to apologise. As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”
The knight smiled, looking a little relieved, and I scratched my cheek awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
Why is this guy still treating me like this?
The ritual should be over, and it should be clear by now that I’m not the Saint—wait a minute???
Did he just call me “Saint-sama”?
✢
I wanted to ask what had happened since then, but my hunger was more of a pressing issue.
I devoured the bowl of barley porridge that was immediately brought to me and wiped my body with a hot towel.
Of course, I flat-out refused the knight’s offer to help. Why would I need a handsome knight to take care of me? I may be an old man, but I’m not so decrepit that I need assistance.
…Still, as I listened to what had happened, I began to understand the knight’s actions.
While I thought I’d just been asleep a little too long, it turns out I had actually been out for thirteen days.
No wonder he was treating me like I was sick or something. I get it now.
And what happened while I was casually snoozing away was a real headache.
After I collapsed, the three knights who had been with the girl apparently started shouting, “Emilia-sama is the real Saint!” and “Arrest those two frauds!” They were immediately opposed by the knight who had been supporting me.
Then, the Saint-sama’s own personal knights stepped in, telling everyone to stop making a scene in her presence.
But the one who broke the intense tension was the Saint-sama herself, who had been sitting there all along, eyes closed, without moving a muscle.
“This man is the next Saint. He possesses a tremendous power, and he will dispel all your worries.”
And the one she was pointing at… was the unconscious me.
So now, I, a middle-aged man, had officially become the Saint, while the young girl who seemed like she was the real deal had been imprisoned for impersonating a Saint. The three knights who had been with her were also arrested for disrespecting the Saint.
…The plot’s moving too fast for me to keep up.
Isn’t all this happening a bit too quickly while I was asleep?
“…And just yesterday, the previous Saint-sama passed away and returned to the side of God.”
“Huh??”
“We received a memoir and a letter from her. Would you like to read them?”
The previous Saint-sama… that little old lady with all the dignity and authority, right?
Returned to the side of God… does that mean she died?
I see…
Even though I’d only met her for a brief moment and didn’t even exchange words, her gaze had left a deep impression on my heart.
Not knowing what else to say, I took the letter and opened it.
The characters were sharp and formal, unlike the writing used in the village. The term “sacred language” popped into my head, and I was surprised to find that I could read the letter fluently.
Why can I read words I shouldn’t know?
How do I know things I’ve never learned?
The answer to that question was clearly written in the letter.
It said that normally, someone would have explained everything to me, but time was running out for her. In place of an explanation, she had left me a memoir and a letter.
The knowledge of the Saint had been passed down through the generations via that ritual. It might take some time to fully access it, but the answers were inside me, so I should feel reassured.
And lastly, she asked me to take care of this country—her words were short, but filled with a deep love for the nation, and they pierced my heart.
—If only I had been born somewhere else…
If I hadn’t grown up in a small village that wasn’t even on the map, but in a town where I could’ve been recognized right away, could I have spent more time with her?
Could I have properly learned what it means to be a Saint?
Would she have lived longer?
It’s pointless to think about it now, but I can’t help wondering.
“…I’d like to offer a prayer. Could you guide me?”
“Of course.”
I shot a sideways glance at the hand that was offered to me and got up without anyone’s help.
I still didn’t fully understand what it meant to be a Saint, but the weight of what had been entrusted to me was starting to settle heavily on my shoulders.
✢
The idea that “the knowledge is inside me” wasn’t just a metaphor—it was literal.
Even though I had no idea how to offer prayers, I found myself doing it naturally, to my own surprise.
I also instinctively knew how to perform a funeral rite and how to purify the nation. It was as if all this knowledge had surfaced out of nowhere.
After offering prayers for the previous Saint-sama, I headed back to the room from the other day.
It was a room that had seemed empty, with just the god’s statue standing there, but now, knowing how to use the Saint’s power, it looked completely different.
The floor was illuminated by a web-like pattern of light, but it was being swallowed up by pitch-black darkness. The spot where the light and darkness clashed must be the boundary between this country and the outside world.
In one bright, isolated corner was my village. Thanks to the purification I had done earlier, it was shining brightly.
But if I looked away from that spot, I could see that the rest of the country was covered in a thick layer of dark gray.
There were slight variations in shade, but in some places, the darkness was almost pitch black.
—This is pretty bad.
The places glowing with white light were purified. The dark gray areas were where filth had accumulated.
The closer the darkness was to black, the more tainted the area, and the harder it would be to purify.
In the most polluted areas, the creatures living there were twisted into demonic beasts that attacked people. At this rate, it was bound to affect the country’s trade with other nations.
The previous Saint-sama’s powers must have weakened considerably.
A new Saint was supposed to be chosen before the current one’s power began to fade, but this time, they were severely delayed. She must have forced herself to keep using her powers despite her limits.
I gazed down at the floor, trying to decide on the order in which to purify the land.
I’d love to purify everything at once, but that’s just impossible. I’ll have to start with the most tainted areas and the key trade routes, little by little.
It’s like trying to till an entire field at once—it can’t be done.
I’ll just have to take it slow and steady.
First, though, I was about to activate the purification power but stopped short.
If I push myself to my limits with purification, I’ll probably be out of commission for the rest of the day. Heck, I might even end up bedridden again for a few more days.
In that case, I should take care of what’s on my mind first.
“Uh… Veerant, was it?”
“Yes, Saint-sama.”
The knight who had been with me since the village.
Up until now, I hadn’t called him by name, thinking it would be rude for a villager like me to address a knight so casually, but I guess I’m technically a Saint now.
And since there are a lot of knights around here, it’s probably better to call him by his name.
…Or so I thought, but why does he look so ridiculously happy?
He shouldn’t be grinning so much just because an old man called him by his name.
Feeling a bit put off, I continued, saying there was something I wanted to ask of him.
Veerant’s eyes widened in surprise when I told him my request, which I’d honestly shared, taking advantage of his “whatever you wish” offer.
Be my Patron ~ Buy me Ko-Fi
────୨ৎ────
✨Be a part of the story – support my translations✨
✨Buy me some Ko-FI | Paypal to support my effort✨
✨✨Advance chapter at Patreon✨✨
✨Join me on my Discord for the additional info✨
