Chapter 72: The Cruel World of Social Circles

The prayer room, enveloped in a sacred aura, was as silent as if it had swallowed all the noise in the world.

In front of a finely carved statue of the goddess, candles flickered faintly, their weak light warming the surroundings and casting a gentle glow.

Kneeling before it in prayer, Lillian slowly lowered her delicate hands.

“Priest… do demons truly exist?”

Beside Lillian stood a middle-aged man dressed in priestly robes, quietly observing her.

One of the few high-ranking priests in this great temple, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he looked at Lillian.

“Have you encountered a demon?”

“…No, I haven’t seen one.”

Lillian gazed blankly at her open palm for a long moment.

The sensation she had felt not long ago at the banquet, when she held Lady Blanc’s arm, remained vivid even now.

Something dark and dense.

It was undeniably malevolent.

A foreboding feeling that burrowed into her bones, impossible to describe in words. Instinctively, she had invoked her holy power.

And if she hadn’t been mistaken, the expression that briefly crossed Lady Blanc’s face was unmistakably one of pain.

Holy power was meant to heal, a grace to save those on the brink of death.

But what could it mean for someone to suffer from that power?

“I may not understand why the Lady is curious, but I believe that demons do indeed exist.”

The priest turned his gaze quietly toward Lillian.

“Truly?”

“Just as we have our almighty goddess, there must be beings on the other side as well. The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow that follows.”

“So, demons really do…”

“Theories about demons have been passed down since ancient times. Some say they are fallen beings once known as angels, while others believe they are spirits summoned by the wickedness of human hearts.”

“But there’s no real proof, is there?”

“That’s correct. Unlike the goddess’s blessings, which everyone can clearly feel, those who claim to have seen demons are extremely rare.”

Lillian was also well-versed in the tales of demons.

Fallen beings with powers as strong as the dark desires harbored in the human heart.

They burrow into one’s soul at the weakest moment, corrupting it, stirring up desires.

The fallen become puppets of demons, leading empty lives, only to ultimately lose both body and soul to the demon.

But even this was just a story passed down; no one had ever definitively proven a demon’s existence.

‘…Maybe I’m overthinking it.’

Demons sounded like nothing more than a fanciful tale.

She couldn’t be certain that the ominous aura she felt from Lady Blanc was truly that of a demon.

Perhaps it was merely a misperception.

“Please don’t worry too much, Lady Saint.”

The priest smiled gently as he looked at the goddess statue.

“Demons are beings that ultimately remain hidden in darkness. In this land blessed by the goddess, they won’t be able to roam freely.”

“That’s a relief then…”

“Forget about beings like demons and focus on your awakening as a saint and securing your position in society.”

“…Oh, right! I have a banquet to attend today.”

Perhaps she had been too absorbed in prayer. Without noticing the passage of time, the clock hands had long since passed noon.

Lillian quickly rushed to her room to prepare for the banquet.

Without an attendant to help her, she had to manage most of the preparations herself, but it didn’t bother her much.

‘Arien said she would attend this banquet too, didn’t she?’

Arien Caltry, the person who always remained by her side, her faithful companion.

Of course, she knew that Arien was kind to her because she was the saintess, but still, she always felt grateful for Arien’s warmth.

Without her, she might have had a much harder time.

“I hope you can make new friends too.”

New encounters always made her heart flutter with anticipation.

If she could present herself with more politeness and grace, she was sure that new connections would naturally come her way.

Lillian, filled with excitement, took a dress from the deepest part of her wardrobe.

“Hm~ Hm-hm.”

With a faint smile blooming on her face, Lillian hummed softly.

Even if trials came her way, she believed that if she never gave up, everything would turn out well in the end, a thought that warmed her heart with comfort.

Her relationships with the noble ladies and her life as a saintess—all would surely go smoothly.

However.

That hope shattered not long after she arrived at the banquet.

She soon realized that life was far from smooth.

The moment she stepped into the ballroom.

What greeted her first was none other than—

Splash—!

A flood of crimson wine poured down over her head.

***

“Oh my, what a mistake on my part.”

The red wine slowly dripped from atop Lillian’s head.

The vivid red, seeping down like blood droplets, ruined the dress Lillian had prepared with such care in an instant.

‘Hmph, how bold.’

I hid the smile spreading across my lips and leaned slightly against Versha’s shoulder.

Enjoying her soft touch as she stroked my head, I looked at Lillian, now drenched in wine.

The woman standing before Lillian was part of Versha’s faction, looking down at her with an empty wine glass in hand.

“I heard something interesting, Saintess. I hear you’re from the Kingdom of Magenta?”

At the mention of the Kingdom of Magenta, Lillian’s gaze wavered subtly.

She must be curious as to how this woman knew that fact.

The Kingdom of Magenta was where Lillian had once lived.

Before the kingdom perished in the empire’s invasion, she had been a noble with the title of Endoria.

But the war took everything from her.

Left with no family or home, Lillian had no choice but to go to an orphanage. Coincidentally, that orphanage was run by the temple, which is how she came to enter it by a stroke of luck.

She was so young then that she must have nearly forgotten those memories, though she likely still held a faint awareness that she had once been a noble.

Of course, now she was just another common war orphan from a fallen kingdom.

“A war orphan from a defeated kingdom becoming a saintess—is that really a choice blessed by the goddess?”

There was a hint of mockery and scorn in her words.

You might wonder if it was appropriate to be so rude to the saintess, but nothing was stopping her.

Nobles are creatures obsessed with status and power.

The ambiguous figure of a saintess wasn’t exactly well-received by them.

While the holy authority of the goddess’s faith might command respect among the commoners, it held little sway over nobles whose accomplishments were acknowledged within their circles.

The nobles found it offensive for a commoner-born saint to rise to their level, and the fact that she was a war orphan from a fallen kingdom only added to the mockery.

Of course, there might be those who didn’t care much about her background, but there were far more nobles who would never leave her alone.

‘Well, I may have added a little fuel to the fire.’

Naturally, I was the one who spread the rumors about Lillian.

Before Lillian could fully awaken her powers as a saint, I planned to drive her out of society.

I didn’t say anything directly; I didn’t want to risk getting into trouble later.

Instead, I subtly inserted Lillian’s story into the conversations of the noble ladies.

I didn’t merely spread the fact that she was a war orphan.

I added comments that she had ideas about equality between commoners and nobles—things that would surely irk the aristocrats.

My story grew more sensational as it passed through the mouths of various noble ladies, eventually transforming into scandalous gossip that defamed Lillian.

Now, Lillian was under the disdainful gaze of many nobles.

“…”

Lillian, still seemingly in shock, could only stare blankly at the floor.

Watching her dazed appearance sent a thrilling shiver through me.

What was this strange exhilaration?

Why did I feel this way?

I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t have much time to dwell on it.

“What on earth are you doing?!”

With a fierce voice, a blue-haired girl rushed over. She quickly shielded Lillian behind her back, glaring at the woman with a fierce look.

“How dare you disrespect the Saint! Do you think you can bear the consequences?”

“Disrespect? It was merely an accident.”

“No one here would believe that.”

Arien placed her hand on the sword at her waist. The subtle hostility emanating from her made the eyes of the woman who spilled the wine tremble momentarily.

‘It’s like watching a morning drama.’

As I enjoyed the rather intense scene, Versha, who had been gently patting my head, slowly stood up.

With graceful steps, she approached the center of the commotion and offered a handkerchief to Lillian with a soft smile.

“Are you all right, Saint?”

Lillian looked at her in silence. Versha placed a sympathetic hand on the woman’s shoulder, who had spilled the wine.

“You’re not usually so clumsy. You must not be feeling well today. I hope the Saint will understand with her broad heart.”

Arien stepped forward with a harshly contorted face.

“Such nonsense—”

“Watch your words, Lady Caltry.”

Versha’s gaze suddenly turned calm. At that look, Arien froze, speechless.

Even though she served as Lillian’s guard, she had no choice but to remain silent in front of Versha.

Versha was the only daughter of a highly esteemed Count’s family and wielded considerable influence in society.

In contrast, Arien, the daughter of the unremarkable Marquess of Caltry, with minimal political clout and focused solely on nurturing talent, could hardly stand against Versha.

“Saint? Are you terribly upset?”

Versha asked again, smiling warmly.

Lillian silently lowered her head, avoiding Versha’s eyes.

“Are you ignoring me?”

Versha’s tone remained gentle, yet there was an unusual pressure in it.

“N-no, I understand.”

Lillian answered in a trembling voice.

“My, how gracious of you, just like a true Saint.”

Versha nodded in satisfaction, displaying a pleased smile.

But was Lillian secretly angry? Her clenched fists were trembling slightly.

Amidst the many noble ladies watching the scene with keen interest, I slowly shifted my gaze away from Lillian.

Lillian, you have plenty to deal with without getting involved in this social warfare.

So, please, don’t set foot here.

It would save both of us a lot of trouble.

“…Mother, I miss you.”

I gently rested my head on the knee of another noble lady beside me and closed my eyes quietly.

When I return, I’ll nestle into Mother’s embrace and indulge myself to my heart’s content.