Chapter 107: The Saint’s Man (2)

The Saint.

An eccentric who treated the illnesses and injuries of the powerless and poor in the back-alleys for free.

At first, talk of ‘him’ was dismissed as just another rumor, barely worth a mention outside the alleys.

The dangerous and dilapidated back-alleys were of no concern to those in the outer world. Unlike the alley folk, they didn’t suffer and die for lack of money to treat a scratch or minor disease.

But then—

Rumors about the Saint began to spread through Bondalles’s social circles.

To a world where receiving charity would be considered shameful.

—The Saint? Oh, you mean that person who’s treating people for free in the back-alleys…

—That’s right!

—Didn’t think you would be into something like that.

—Of course I wasn’t!

—…?

—But now I am. And I think you will be, too.

—Why, what happened?

—You know Yulina, right?

—Our Yulina? Of course I do. The living encyclopedia of Bondalles’s handsome men. What about her? Did she get treated by that Saint or something?

—Not exactly. She happened to see him treating someone else, and according to her—

—Was he amazing?

—She said he was gorgeous.

—…?

—Let me quote her directly. ‘Insane. Absolutely insane! I’ve never seen a man that stunning in my life! That bronzed skin, those sky-blue eyes, those golden locks—and when he smiles, his white teeth contrast with that tan… And the aura! That mystique! That mix of masculine strength and feminine grace! There’s no better word for him: princely. More princely than any noble I’ve ever seen!’

—…Yulina really said all that?

So it was, the reason Bondalles’s noble ladies started taking interest in this alley-dwelling celebrity…

Was none other than ‘his’ rumored beauty.

The name once confined to alley whispers began to surface in high-society drawing rooms.

And then, one day…

An incident occurred that catapulted the Saint to the center of every noble lady’s attention.

Caria Dendro—daughter of the head of Golden Barley, the largest trading company in Bondalles— invited the Saint to stay at her mansion.

From noble ladies to wealthy matrons, women flocked to the Dendro estate just to catch a glimpse of the famed Saint.

And they were captivated, by ‘his’ mysterious presence and striking looks.

The number of visitors swelled daily.

Before long, the Saint became the most talked-about figure in all of Bondalles society.

Countless women opened their ears—and their wallets—to win ‘his’ favor.

Under this influence, the eastern back-alleys of Bondalles became firmly ‘his’ domain.

Thus began the Saint’s rise as a powerhouse in the alley underworld.

Even after becoming the “Saint of the back-alleys,” little changed in ‘his’ behavior.

‘He’ still stayed at the Dendro estate, continued meeting visitors, and quietly expanded ‘his’ influence.

And today, like always, many women made their way to the Dendro mansion in hopes of meeting ‘him.’

Everyone who stood before him was overwhelmed by his mysterious aura and radiant beauty.

He was always the one to move hearts.

There had never been a single exception.

In high society, they often said: “The Saint treats everyone with the same courteous distance. I wonder… is there anyone he actually likes?”

“Did… he just smile?”

The expression on his face now,  might’ve been the answer.

Even the lavish gifts of noblewomen could only elicit the same polite smile from him.

He had never let anyone in.

Yet now, his face lit up with joy.

He can smile like that?

That was the collective astonishment of the crowd.

With a surge of jealousy and curiosity, they turned their gaze in the same direction as his.

To find the one who had brought such a change to his face.

“Excuse me.”

“Ah, Lord Eron!?”

Just then, the Saint stepped away from the curly-haired woman at his side—Caria Dendro, and began walking forward.

The crowd around him parted like the sea.

What is this vibe? Just what has Rona been doing behind the scenes?

At the end of the path stood Risir, taken aback but ready to greet his comrade.

With a wide, happy smile, he took a step forward.

But before he could.

“Eron!”

A noblewoman beside him abruptly pushed past, practically shoving him aside.

Just a moment ago, she’d been mocking Risir’s presence with her subtle noble condescension, Marceline Lavalier, a city noblewoman.

With her elaborate makeup and sophisticated fashion, she held considerable sway in Bondalles high society.

New jewelry and dresses she showcased at gatherings would often set the latest trends.

Thanks to this, Marceline enjoyed rare access to the Saint.

And now, she was sure.

He saw me! That gift I gave him must’ve worked!

Glowing with anticipation, Marceline stepped in front of the Saint.

Her companions followed, faces lit with excitement.

“Isn’t that Lady Marceline?”

“Could it be, Lady Marceline and Lord Eron…?”

The crowd easily accepted the unfolding scene as natural.

They watched the pair with rapt attention, determined not to miss a second.

And so they missed—

“…”

—the moment the Saint’s face briefly twisted when Marceline shoved past someone.

He wore his usual, mystical smile as he greeted her.

“Lady Marceline. I hope you’re enjoying your time?”

“Yes, thanks to you!”

She replied, breathless with excitement from having rushed forward.

Just then, the Saint reached a hand toward her face.

“…Huh?”

With calm poise, he tucked away a loose strand of hair from her lips.

His sky-blue eyes met hers directly.

“I’m glad to hear that. I, too, enjoyed our last meeting, thanks to you.”

“Lord Eron…”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

She was about to launch into another round of flustered chatter, when—

“But Lady Marceline,”

“Y-Yes? Please, go on!”

“That gift you gave me…”

“Yes!”

“…I think I should return it.”

“…Pardon? But—at the time, you said you liked it—”

He didn’t explain.

Just smiled bitterly and shook his head.

“…Ah…”

For a moment, Marceline stood dazed.

Then frantically looked around her.

The eyes that had gazed upon her with envy only moments ago had gone cold.

Unable to bear it, she fled.

Her companions hesitated briefly, then followed after her.

A hush fell over the gathering, but not for long.

The nobles resumed their chat with the Saint, pretending nothing had happened.

In fact, a sense of relief tinged their expressions.

The relief that the Saint did not yet have a special someone.

“Eron. That gift Lady Marceline mentioned, what was it?”

The person feeling that relief the most was Caria.

The others frowned in frustration as she forcefully come closer to the Saint but didn’t protest further.

After all, the Saint was still residing at the Dendro mansion.

His closest connection was clearly Caria.

What, you gonna kill me with that glare?

Caria glanced sideways, inwardly thrilled.

As the daughter of a powerful merchant, she had inherited her father’s shrewdness.

She expected every coin she spent to bring returns.

If not, she’d go to great lengths to make it worthwhile.

Luxury meant nothing to her.

She disdained the other young ladies who wasted fortunes chasing fleeting trends and admiration.

What kind of fool pays extra just to look enviable?

She swore she’d never become one of them.

Until she met him, at least.

Their first encounter—when he came to stay at the estate at her father’s invitation—shook her to the core.

—Lady Caria, is something wrong?

—Huh? Oh, no, just spacing out. Anyway, aren’t there a lot of people who want to talk to you? You sure you want to stay by boring ol’ me?

—Of course. In this place, you’re the most important person to me.

—Wha?

—Your father’s the one who invited me, isn’t he?

—Oh! Y-Yeah.

—And why do you say you’re boring?

—Well, unlike other girls, I don’t care for makeup or fashion… All I talk about is business and money…

—I don’t think that’s bad at all.

—…Huh?

—If you’re aware of that and still choose not to dress up, doesn’t that mean you’re confident in who you are? And there’s nothing more beautiful than confidence.

—Wha—!? What are you—

—Oh, sorry. That strand of hair was bothering me. Did that upset you?

—N-No… I mean, maybe a little…

—Also, I enjoy talking with you.

—…What?

—At your age, to already have a vision for your business and future—that’s impressive.

—No one’s ever said that to me before…

—Really? That’s odd. What about your father?

—He has, but—

—Ah, I get it. So aside from your dad, I’m the only one who sees your worth.

—…Yeah…

—In a way, being acknowledged by a merchant like him is a big deal. I’m honored. I’ve never done business before, but if I ever have to, I’ll trust your judgment.

—…

Their conversation.

The stares of envy from others as they talked.

Caria had never felt anything like it.

She felt special. Truly special.

She connected that feeling to luxury and pride, and fell completely for it.

So she fell completely for him.

So she convinced herself: That only she—Caria, daughter of the Golden Barley Guildmaster—  deserved the luxury of having a man like him to herself.

She was willing to do anything to preserve that privilege.

Even now, as she talked with him…

She was intoxicated with the gazes focused on her.

Maybe more than that, she was intoxicated by him, who drew those gazes.

Though she’d once cared nothing for fashion, traces of adornment now appeared across her body.

Her once-practical clothes now had a touch of flair.

Her plain face bore careful makeup.

But truth be told, she didn’t care about others’ gazes anymore.

All she cared about was his reaction to her.

Maybe that’s why…

“…Hmm?”

She could feel it.

Even mid-conversation, the Saint’s mind was somewhere else.

Then he spoke.

“Caria, I’m just going to go have a quick chat with someone.”

“What if I say no?”

Caria said it playfully, with a hint of sincerity buried inside.

But of course, such tactics didn’t work on the Saint, who could so easily stir the hearts of countless women.

He simply smiled lightly and walked away.

“…”

Caria followed him with eyes full of silent complaint.

Where are you going?

He seemed to chat briefly with others in the garden, but soon he stepped beyond the grounds altogether.

“I’ll be back.”

Leaving her bodyguard, Rok, behind, Caria quietly trailed after him.

Eventually, the Saint entered the rear of the estate.

His footsteps stopped.

Caria leaned against the wall, listening closely.

—Feeling better now?

A bashful woman’s voice rang out.

Who’s that…?

Unease prickled at her, but she focused on the conversation between the Saint and the woman.

—Uh, thanks. I heard you looked after me when I passed out?

Wait, what?

The next voice wasn’t the Saint’s.

It was another man’s voice.

The Saint had vanished,  and all she could hear were this timid woman and the man.

—…Who told you that?

—Eh, someone. Either way, thanks, Rona. I owe you again.

—…No, I’m the one who owes you.

—Huh? Oh, right. You’ve been doing well lately, haven’t you? Saint.

—…Shut up.

“…!”

Caria’s eyes widened.

That voice—soft, confident, and androgynous, the one that had sounded off— was unmistakably the Saint’s.

She’d heard that voice dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

It was the Saint’s voice.

Which meant…

That’s Eron…?

-: It just means you’re turning a region into your base of operations.

[OP]: What’s the benefit of making a region your base?

-: Random events mostly start triggering in your outpost, so it’s easier to manage stuff.

-: Hero candidates come find you there, too.

-: Also, Star Festival gets hosted in your outpost.

[OP]: Star Festival?

-: Yeah, it’s like the martial arts world’s Dragon and Phoenix Convention—
a gathering to pick the best among the late-stage masters.

[OP]: Ohhh lol

[OP]: So how do I activate an outpost?

-: Sounds like your first outpost activation just triggered in Bondalles, right?

-: Basically, finish all the Fate quests to deactivate the region,
then raise Region Control to 80%.

[OP]: Region control? That go up when I finish Fate quests?

-: Nope, it increases with faction reputation and affinity with faction NPCs.

[OP]: Don’t know what that means, but it sounds like a huge pain.

-: Big cities like Bondalles with mage towers are always rough.

– : Can I spoil something?

[OP]: What is it?

-: Most people want Bondalles as their first outpost since the system triggers there,
but they usually give up and switch to the next city that unlocks.
Much easier to raise reputation and affinity there.

[OP]: Oh? Thanks, almost wasted my life.

-: You spoiled it, asshole.

[OP]: You trying to max Bondalles too?

-: Nah, he just saved you from screwing yourself. Respect.

[OP]: You a piece of shit?

-: Tbh this is my 3rd playthrough and I still haven’t cleared Bondalles outpost ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

-: It’s literally a feng shui jackpot location…

-: But the City Council < these boomer bastards, what do you even do with them?

-: Tbh the Council’s nothing.The Merchant Guild and socialites are the real nightmares.

-: Merchant Guild = Caria < this gold-digging gift-hungry nightmare lmao

-: Wasn’t Caria the one who preferred gold coins?

-: Yep.

-: No matter how much gold I gave her, her affection wouldn’t go up. What gives?

-: Translation error, lol.

[OP]: What’s it supposed to be?

-: A fuck-ton of gold coins.

-: She literally only cares about money. But has so much of it that normal cash doesn’t even register as money anymore.

-: Went bankrupt trying to max Caria’s affection. Skip her if you value your wallet.

“Eron!”

Caria, unable to withstand the mental chaos any longer, revealed herself.

There stood Risir, the one brought by the Saint.

“Caria?”

And the Saint himself.

Once a striking androgynous beauty, now no more than a feminine young woman.

Caria shouted, trembling with betrayal.

“You—you’re a woman!?”

At that, the Saint’s demeanor shifted.

Once more the poised androgynous figure, she stepped forward and cornered Caria against the wall.

“You followed me?”

Caria flinched, startled, but immediately shouted back in protest.

“T-That’s not what matters right now!!!”

“…You’re right. That’s not what matters.”

This stunning beauty—capable of winning anyone’s heart— leaned in close to the plainly dressed, modest girl.

“Do you hate me now?”

“…Huh?”

“Now that you know, do you hate me?”

The beauty smiled provocatively, lifting Caria’s chin to make her look directly into those sky-blue eyes.

“…”

Caria’s eyes trembled violently.

Eventually, she dropped her gaze and muttered,

“…No…”

Satisfied, the beauty smiled and gently stroked her cheek.

“…”

A joy she couldn’t hide surfaced in the plain girl’s expression.

After calming her down and sending her back, the beauty turned her gaze back to Risir.

“…Right, where were we?”

Now with none of the earlier charisma, just a bashful, awkward demeanor.

Rumors.

They’re like drops spilling from a shaken vessel, fragments of truth broken off and scattered.

These days, the gossipmongers of Bondalles were busier than ever collecting those fragments.

Rare were the times when so many sensational, scandalous rumors surfaced all at once.

“That should be everything…”

A middle-aged man—both a gossip enthusiast and a guild member of the Information Guild—organized the truths he’d pieced together.

As he reviewed his notes, he smiled wryly.

“…Where the hell did all these monsters come from, flooding in at once?”

He had no idea that nearly all the rumors he’d collected… stemmed from a single person.