Chapter 168: What the Saints Have in Common

Ｒ​ｅａ​ｄ​ ｏｎ Ｋａｔ​ＲｅａｄｉｎｇＣａｆｅ

The sky is thick with dark clouds.

Though the actual evening sky outside is merely hazy, the same gloom hangs heavily over this young man’s face.

“Haa…”

He had been invited to dinner. It was an excessively generous offer—who in their lifetime would ever share a table with the Holy City’s ruler?

But setting aside her status…

While it was true that the pressure of dining with the most noble woman in the world weighed on him, if he simply thought of her as an amplified version of the friend he usually accompanied, he could somehow manage to endure it.

The real issue was blood.

Thicker than water. Family. Siblings.

And the fact that you have feelings for her younger sibling.

Her younger brother.

Or perhaps…

“…”

He couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. Clutching the staff in his arms like a talisman, he walked through the Grand Temple’s corridors.

Lost in thought, his steps felt aimless, as if he were going in circles. He couldn’t tell if it was his reluctance to face what awaited him or if he had genuinely lost his way.

Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t a single person in sight. Even for evening hours, a Grand Temple of this scale should at least have a few scattered visitors.

‘There’s no way I can’t find the exit.’

He needed to leave the temple and head to the towering spire that loomed over this land. Though his stay had been brief, he knew the way out well enough.

Rumble—

A heavy sound rolled through the sky. Was it thunder? Given the thick clouds, it wouldn’t be surprising.

The air was thick with the scent of impending rain. Mages, like old men with aching bones, were eerily accurate in predicting the weather.

With magic enhancing their senses, they could sharpen their perception beyond the ordinary.

Living in 95% humidity? Breathing in paint fumes every day? Residing in a paper-thin apartment with noisy neighbors?

It was only natural they grew irritable. The degree varied, but in the end, most mages were twisted in some way.

And as this young mage began to feel that twist creeping in, he glanced out the corridor window.

‘This scenery… I’ve seen it before.’

His sharpened senses warned him. Something was off.

What could possibly be suspicious in the safest land in the world?

Yet, he couldn’t afford to be careless. The recent incident in Steele had left him tense.

Leon suppressed his magical presence and quietly drew his staff. Slowly, he advanced.

Swish—

Then, the sound of wind reached him. A window must have been left open somewhere. Given the weather, a strong gust wouldn’t be unusual.

Swish—

It came again.

This time, it carried a metallic chill, sending a shiver down his spine. The eerie silence of the Grand Temple, paired with the storm outside, made the sound all the more unsettling. A cold echo reverberated unnaturally in the empty halls.

Creak—

“…”

Leon froze.

The sound had changed.

A grating, unnatural noise—like something being forced together, misaligned and wrong.

The magical energy lingering in the air since earlier prickled against his skin. The Holy City’s ruler’s power hummed faintly in the background.

‘What’s happening?’

Narrowing his eyes, he focused ahead—just as the corridor’s magestone lamps flickered out.

Under the evening sky, choked with dark clouds and devoid of light.

Inside the dim, ominous halls of the Grand Temple.

He was alone.

Cold sweat dripped down his back as he leveled his staff forward.

Screeeech—

Something was there. Waiting. Emitting an unidentifiable, grotesque sound.

“Who are you?”

…

No answer. Only the unsettling noise echoed back.

“Stop playing games.”

…

Still no response.

“What do you think you’re doing in this sacred place? The Holy City’s ruler will not take kindly to this.”

He tried invoking the Saint’s name to intimidate, but the other side remained silent. If anything, the disturbing noise only grew louder.

Then again, if they’re bold enough to pull this in the Grand Temple, they must be prepared.

‘I didn’t want to cause trouble…’

He was already conspicuous enough, and this was supposed to be a peaceful land. He had hoped to quietly stay for a while and leave without incident. But now?

No choice.

“Last warning. If you don’t back off, I will respond.”

His firm words were met with sudden silence.

For a moment, he thought they might retreat—

Flash—

A blinding light erupted.

In that split-second illumination, he caught a glimpse of the intruder’s identity.

A woman.

Platinum blonde hair cascading down to her waist.

An ornate white robe embroidered with gold thread.

A veil obscuring her face.

And then, a massive pair of scissors.

CRASH—!

Leon took a sharp breath as the deafening thunder that followed shook his body and mind.

“Wait… What in the…?”

Stunned by the bizarre sight before him, he barely had time to process it before—

Creak, creak. Clank, clank—

The unsettling noise rapidly closed in. No footsteps—yet whatever it was approached at an unnatural speed, the sound now right in front of him.

That’s… her, right? That person? The Saint? It’s her, isn’t it? I didn’t miss see? Are those… gardening shears? And they’re rusted?

The most powerful figure in this land was now wielding a crude weapon, aiming it at him. The metallic scent carried the distinct aura of a deeply jealous woman.

“U-um, did you need something from me?”

He forced calm into his voice, clinging to the hope that this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe the Saint had a gardening hobby. Maybe the corridor lights had coincidentally gone out. Maybe they’d just happened to cross paths. He spoke as if greeting her normally.

Then, her dry, monotone voice shattered that delusion.

“Purge.”

***************

“AAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

***************

Sugar, who had been heading to the spire for the dinner gathering, turned at the scream echoing from the Grand Temple.

“Who’s screaming like that in the temple? So rude.”

“The reason is pretty obvious,” Riley replied flatly.

Sugar snorted, waving a hand dismissively.

“Pfft. You’re not seriously suggesting Her Holiness grabbed a pair of gardening shears and is now ‘purging’ some guy she can’t stand? That she manipulated the temple’s lights and summoned lightning? That she’s so consumed by hatred she’s cutting her target in the name of ‘purification’? Come on, Riley. That’s a stretch.”

“…”

“Even if it’s Lady Ione, she’d take that as a joke. She’s the Saint, for crying out loud. We’re late—let’s go.”

Riley fell silent.

Is it a universal rule that beings called ‘Saints’ are all missing a few screws?

He followed, lost in grim contemplation.

***************

“Why is everyone so late…?”

At the lavishly set dinner table, the warm glow and aroma of food should have been inviting—but Ian, sitting with crossed arms, let out an exasperated sigh.

‘Sugar and Riley said they’re on their way… No response from Leon. And where did my sister disappear to now?’

The one who was practically glued to the spire had vanished again. Not that it was unusual—she had a habit of appearing and disappearing unpredictably within the Holy City.

‘So the problem is Leon.’

Had he gotten lost? It wouldn’t be surprising; he hadn’t been in the Holy City long, and the Grand Temple was vast.

Ian waved over a nearby priestess.

“About Leon, could you—”

Then she stopped and shook her head.

“Never mind. I’ll go find him myself.”

She shrugged on her suit jacket—unlike the casual attire she’d worn when chatting with Ione earlier, she was now in full masculine dress.

“Oh. You’re here.”

“Ah Ian.”

On her way out, she ran into the other two at the entrance.

“I’m heading to look for Leon. Come with me—my sister’s gone anyway.”

“Huh? Lady Ione isn’t here?”

“Nope. Poof, vanished.”

The moment Ian finished speaking, Riley shot Sugar a pointed look. Sugar just shrugged and muttered, “Must be a coincidence.”

And so, the three of them set off together.

“Someone said they saw him inside the Grand Temple earlier.”

“Should we try using magic?”

“Let’s search a bit first—huh?”

—“AAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Another scream tore through the air, cutting them off.

It was the same one Sugar had heard earlier—but up close, the voice was unmistakably familiar.

Sugar and Riley exchanged a glance, then bolted up the Grand Temple’s stairs without another word.

“My heart’s pounding…!”

“Let’s hope it’s not from excitement.”

As they bantered, a figure came sprinting down the darkened corridor.

“HELP! HELPPPPPPP!!”

A desperate scream.

A flash of lightning illuminated the scene for a split second—just long enough to see the wild-eyed young man sprinting for his life, his hair and robes flying.

“SUGAR YOU CRAZY WOMAN! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO TOLD HER I EXISTED YOU MANIAC!!”

“What was that?!”

He was yelling something as he ran, but the booming thunder made it impossible to make out. Probably spewing curses.

Not that it mattered.

Behind him, the sharp metallic clatter of something chasing him could faintly be heard.

Just as the spectacle was getting interesting—

Click—

The corridor lit up.

“What the hell is going on? Let’s at least turn the lights on first, guys.”

Ian, who had followed them up, flipped the magestone lamp switch.

And then, the truth was revealed.

“Wow… this is terrifying.”

The sight of Her Holiness sprinting toward them, wielding gardening shears the size of a human torso, was nothing short of horrifying. Sugar, projecting herself onto the scene, gave a slow, understanding nod.

Beside her, Riley muttered, “Now that you realize it, fix yourself.”

Meanwhile, Leon, who had been running like a madman, suddenly ducked behind the three of them. The contrast between their casual conversation and the absurdity of the situation made it feel like a surreal stage play.

At least he was safe now.

But Ione didn’t seem to care—she kept coming.

And then—

“Sister!”

Ian shouted.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

The sudden roar from her younger sibling made Ione flinch, her shoulders stiffening in an uncharacteristic display of hesitation.

“You were pointing that terrifying thing at my friend?! You chased him with those?!”

Immediately, she hid the shears behind her back and shook her head violently—no, no, no!

“That’s unacceptable!!”

The sharp reprimand aimed at the Saint herself was something Sugar had never seen in all her years in this land. She gaped. Ian looked furious—face flushed, brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin, stern line.

“How could you… Even if you couldn’t welcome him properly…”

Muttering under her breath, she turned to Leon.

“Leon. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Ah… no. I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry. So sorry… I’ll apologize on her behalf.”

Her bowed head and sincere apology were almost pitiful. She looked ashamed—embarrassed that her family had acted this way. She bit her lip, guilt written all over her face.

“Can you stand? Let me help you. Hold on tight.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly show such—”

“Hold on.”

Gentle but firm, she pulled Leon up and began leading him down the stairs without so much as a backward glance.

Shortly after, a loud clang! echoed from behind—whether it was the shears hitting the floor or something shattering, no one could tell.

At the source of the sound, Her Holiness stood frozen, staring blankly at the stairs where her sister had disappeared with the man. Silent. Still as stone. Then, she let out a weak, stifled cough.

Cough, cough.

Having witnessed the whole ordeal, the instigator of this mess (Sugar) scratched her head awkwardly. Her companion (Riley) had had enough—he grabbed her cheeks and stretched them mercilessly.

“You disaster.”

“Owowow—!”

Who was really at fault here? The Saint who took the advice, or the one who gave it?

Hard to say.