Chapter 35: The Saintess on the Corpse (7)

In Cardinal Demian’s Office, he had summoned Philip and began talking about the matter of the Saint.

“Why not? What’s the problem?”

“You know that Cardinal Theodore is against it.”

“Isn’t this exactly the right time, with Theodore stuck dealing with the Holy Knights?!”

Demian grabbed a cup from his desk and threw it at Philip. It flew through the air and hit Philip square in the chest before falling to the floor.

“Both the Saint and the Pope seats are vacant! Theodore keeps yapping about how now isn’t the time for the Saint’s ceremony, but is that what matters right now?!”

“…No, it isn’t.”

“Our job is to create the Saint as soon as possible! How long are we going to waste time debating ethics and morality?! At this rate, when will the Saint ever be born?!”

“…You’re right.”

Demian’s face turned red with rage. He was breathing heavily, clenching his fists tightly.

“We’ve already found the Saint candidate. The offerings have been gathered. And now that Theodore can’t interfere, this is our chance.”

“But…”

“If I hear another ‘but’ from you, I’ll kill you first.”

Philip couldn’t say another word. Demian was the type to carry out his threats, and it was said that over a dozen priests had already died under his command.

“How long do you think it’ll take for Theodore to resolve the Holy Knights’ issue?”

“At the earliest… two months. Three months at most.”

“Then we’ll start the ceremony within a month.”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

That damned greedy pig of an old man.

With the Pope and the Saint both gone, the Arya Church was now run by just four Cardinals.

It was obvious to everyone that Demian was trying to make the Saint appear first so he could claim the Pope’s seat for himself.

Only the poor children will be sacrificed.

The process normally takes over a year—how can they finish it in just one month? Is he planning to break the candidate’s mind and turn her into a puppet?

That’s exactly why Cardinal Theodore had stepped up to try and stop this.

“Begin the preparations for the ceremony starting tomorrow. Understood?!”

“Yes…”

Even hearing that order disgusts me, but I have no choice.

I don’t want to die either, and if the Saint is born through me, I’ll get some benefits out of it. Maybe I can even become a Cardinal. At my age, wouldn’t I be the youngest ever?

A few days passed since we came here. Just like Ray said, we really didn’t do anything.

The so-called “education time” was just playtime with the other candidates—laughing and chatting together.

“Do you think we’ll get to eat yummy food every day if we become Saints?”

“Of course! We’d be Saints!”

The Saint candidate kids laughed and chattered as they imagined their futures.

“What are my little cuties talking about?”

“Waaah! It’s Sersia!!”

The kids, a bit younger than us, scrambled to get away from Sersia. Her aimless lips turned toward us.

“Don’t come near me.”

“Ray…”

“I said don’t come near me!!”

Sersia ran straight toward Ray, but in the end, she ended up with me. I should’ve run too.

“Hehe, Charlotte doesn’t run away.”

“I don’t feel like running when I’m already sick…”

Sersia hugged Charlotte and gently stroked her head. I suddenly wondered why she acted like this, so I asked her.

“Why do you kiss everyone so much? The others don’t like it.”

“Want to know?”

Sersia didn’t answer in her usual bright voice—it was low and serious.

I looked up at her eyes and saw longing in her green pupils.

Her expression and the air around her were completely different. I didn’t know what to say. I just looked into her eyes silently.

“My mom used to kiss me like this… before she died. I’m just sharing what I received.”

“I see…”

Sersia gave a bitter smile. We all had our own stories. There wasn’t a single kid here without one.

As time went on, I began to remember each name:

• Lisa, 11, with a lovely laugh. Same size as Ariana. She was sold by her parents again and again before ending up in an orphanage.

• Serena, 13, with a sharp personality. Her parents died in an accident. She wandered the streets and ended up here after being caught stealing.

• Vanessa, 14, silent and calm. She was abandoned from birth and raised in an orphanage. Quiet, but very kind—she was popular among the other kids.

• Sersia, 14, who still couldn’t forget her final kiss with her dying mother. She stole to survive and got caught.

Then there was Ray and me—and the rest of the children.

We were all living together in this place.

Time passed with lots of moments spent together. All we really did was gather, chat, and share snacks.

Sometimes Philip would show up and hand out treats, or he’d tell boring stories about the cathedral’s history—which just made everyone fall asleep.

Just when I started wondering when they would finally choose the Saint, and what the criteria even was—

Sersia changed overnight.

She bit her nails nervously. She didn’t kiss anyone anymore. She wouldn’t even come near us. It was like she was scared of people.

She wouldn’t go near Philip either, even though she used to follow him around so much. Charlotte couldn’t stand to see her like that and went to talk to her.

“Sersia, are you okay?”

“Charl…”

Sersia grabbed my hand, checked if anyone was nearby, and dragged me into a small room.

I don’t know how she had so much strength in her small hands, but my wrist turned red from how hard she gripped it.

“That hurts. What’s wrong with you?”

“Charl… What should I do? What do I do?”

“Why… what’s going on?”

Sersia clung to my clothes, trembling as if she might cry.

“If… if only you could escape from here, would you go?”

“ I can’t go alone.”

Because Ray is here. Even if I could leave, I couldn’t abandon Ray—he’s family.

“Charl… let’s run away. This place is weird. Maybe I’m just imagining things, but it’s wrong here.”

What on earth did she see?

Sersia couldn’t explain it clearly. She begged Charlotte to escape with her, saying we shouldn’t stay here.

“You’re the only one who could do it. The Count said he could take one more person…”

“I’m sorry, Sersia.”

I pushed her away so I could look at her face. Sersia was crying, begging me to run away with her.

“I can’t leave alone.”

I gently took her hand.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Charl. Be careful around Father Philip. He said… he said we all might die.”

“Die?”

What was she saying? Were they going to kill us? Here in the cathedral? We’re Saint candidates!

She must have misunderstood something. Even if Philip sometimes looked at me strangely, he was kind to the others. He treated Sersia like a little sister.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

I held her as she broke down crying, patting her back.

She must have heard wrong. Or maybe she had a nightmare.

That’s what I told myself.

The next day—after I sent Sersia back to her room, still full of apologies—

Sersia vanished from the cathedral.

“How the hell did you lose a kid?!”

An ink bottle flew through the air and slammed into Philip’s forehead, leaving a wound. Blood trickled down, but Philip didn’t dare raise a hand to wipe it, knowing something worse could come flying next.

“I’m not sure… but it was after Count Rowan visited…”

“Count?! What could a mere count do to sneak a child out of the cathedral?! That imperial dog only knows how to swing a sword!!”

More things on the desk began to rise into the air. The only person who could stop a raging Demian was the Pope, but with no Pope, Demian had become a wild horse with no reins.

“Find her!! Now!! If this gets out, the other Cardinals will hear in no time!”

“I’ll do my best to investigate.”

“Damn it… we barely snatched that Saint candidate from under Theodore’s nose! If this gets out, we’re screwed!!”

Bang!

Demian slammed his fist onto the desk in fury.

If word got out that a Saint candidate had vanished from the cathedral, the closest ears would be Cardinal Theodore’s.

If there wasn’t a new appointment for the Holy Knights’ commander, Theodore might have already stormed in.

If that happened, all the preparations Demian made, his disgusting desire to become Pope—that dream would fall apart instantly.

If that dream fell apart, Demian would drag Philip down with him.

That can’t happen.

He even considered switching sides to Theodore, but…

“We start tomorrow.”

“But if we rush it now, the Saint candidate’s mind could break. Isn’t that the opposite of what you wanted?”

“I’ve found that this has happened before.”

What a garbage church.

So hardly any of the Saints followed the proper process?

“Look.”

Demian handed Philip a file. Philip’s shoulders began to shake as he read it.

“Are you insane…?”

“There were two Saints made using this method.”

“even so… Even if that’s true, who would do this?! I can’t! I won’t!”

Demian slowly stepped forward and whispered in Philip’s ear. It sounded like: If you won’t, what do you think happens next?

“You think you can walk away now? After coming this far? You’re going to run to Theodore with this file?”

“…Still… this isn’t right. She might not just break mentally—she could become a total wreck…”

“Wouldn’t that be even better?”

“If the Saint is born, I become Pope. Then who controls the Saint’s power if she’s a broken doll?”

Demian circled around Philip as he spoke.

“Me? No… once I’m Pope, I won’t need it. The Saint’s power, on par with the Pope—who will hold it?”

“The only one who could manipulate a broken Saint and wield that power…”

Demian whispered to Philip:

“Is you, the one who created her.”

Philip let out a crazed laugh—and accepted it.

The file slipped from his hand, fluttering down quietly to the floor.