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Chapter 2
The half-conscious Saint moved her lips, mumbling something unintelligible.
‘C-could this be the phenomenon they call the descent of the Holy Spirit?’
Having just descended from the divine realm, perhaps she was about to convey the will of the great god through her mouth. The records spoke of such events, but even as the High Priest, he had never witnessed anything like this firsthand.
Half nervous, half thrilled, Leno slowly brought his ear close to the Saint’s lips.
A sacred moment that might happen only once in a lifetime. And from her lips came a mysterious, beautiful voice.
“Die gracefully, you crazy bastard……”
“Guh?!”
‘D-did I just hear… a curse?’
Leno, startled, pulled back his pale face, doubting his ears.
‘No, that’s impossible. This is the Great Saint sent directly by the God. A lily-like saint wouldn’t utter such words. I must have misheard her moan!’
Embracing her gently, Leno erased the impious words that could not have come from her sacred mouth. Then, urgently, he called to a nearby priest.
“Go immediately to His Majesty and inform him!”
“Huh?”
“The Emperor has been waiting for this news. Go now and report that Saint, chosen by God Ferdinando, has been sent to our Empire!”
Sunlight filtered through the enormous windows, twice the height of a person, cascading over the Saint’s body.
She lay asleep, hands folded over her stomach, dressed neatly in a pure white dress reaching her neck, her white gloves immaculate. The sight was more than mysterious—it was sublime.
“How beautiful.”
A man, quietly watching her pale face move slightly with her breaths, parted his red lips.
“Do you really say that?”
“Do you think I am some kind of monster?”
“Are you not?”
High Priest Leno blinked in awe at the man’s terrifyingly beautiful smile.
His golden hair shattered in the sunlight, perfectly complementing his sapphire-blue eyes. A straight nose, childlike yet full lips—Leno often thought of him as a sculpted statue brought to life.
And it wasn’t just his face. If one looked lower, the amazement only increased.
After a sparring session, seeing his bare body even briefly had been enough for Leno to question his own sexual identity as a priest.
Had a sculptor or painter been present, they would have begged in tears to replicate or paint him.
Raiden Ciserion. At just twenty-six, he was the Emperor of the Lucerne Empire.
Loved and respected by all, he combined beauty with exceptional character, extraordinary swordsmanship, and the great achievement of unifying the empire under divine protection. He was, in every sense, the living symbol of the god’s messenger.
Even though Leno knew that all this perfection was somehow misaligned, he could not help but marvel.
‘Someone who seems so flawless… it must have been because of that incident…’
Raiden’s voice cut through Leno’s thoughts.
“You said she appeared suddenly in God’s garden.”
Leno, startled as if caught thinking impious thoughts, quickly composed himself.
“Ah! Yes, I personally witnessed her walking out of the pond.”
“Walking out from the center of a closed pond… If you hadn’t said it, no one would have believed it.”
“This is the first time I’ve seen anything like this. It proves, beyond doubt, that God Ferdinando is watching over our Empire.”
“Hmph, so it seems.”
“E-Your Majesty…!”
Leno flinched slightly. Glancing around, he saw no one else had overheard—thankfully.
“I can see she has no desire at all.”
“Huh?”
Raiden ran his fingers through the Saint’s black hair, scattered over her shoulder. Ebony strands slipped between his long fingers.
“Isn’t it a waste to send her to another man…?”
“Uh… such words…”
Immediately, Leno sensed something unusual in the Emperor’s reaction. Normally inscrutable, Raiden’s eyes now held a dangerous curiosity.
Since receiving word of the prophecy, the Emperor had shown deep interest in this matter.
As an Emperor who rarely displayed reverence for gods, this unusual enthusiasm surprised even Leno.
‘Is it because she is to become his wife soon? But even so… he wouldn’t normally take such initiative.’
From the time of the kingdom, Lucerne maintained political stability by uniting the first-rank Emperor and second-rank Great Saint through marriage. Every citizen knew this tradition.
But even so, Raiden was not the type to show interest in such things. Normally indifferent to both talented generals and beautiful women, his current curiosity was notable.
‘Or is he thinking something else entirely? Impossible to tell…’
While Leno pondered this, a soft moan came from the Saint.
“Uu…ngh…”
“Ah, she’s waking up!”
Her eyelids trembled as the two men focused entirely on her. Slowly, her eyes opened.
The Saint blinked a few times, then abruptly turned her head.
Her eyes were red, reminiscent of blood—but shining brilliantly like rubies. They met the Emperor’s gaze, filled with a curious intensity.
“So, awake.”
Raiden was curious about her first reaction. What would the Saint, sent to the Empire by God Ferdinando’s prophecy, say? Surely she wouldn’t spout nonsense about worshiping a cursed god.
But before her lips moved, her eyes acted first. They widened like a predator spotting prey.
“Ferdinando, you b—…”
Suddenly, she leapt, as if to attack Raiden.
It all happened in an instant. No one could predict her outburst—or decide whether it should be stopped.
Pooook.
The Saint, seeing the Emperor, sprang from the bed and clung to his neck.
“…I suppose there’s no harm in this, but if it’s God’s will, it’s quite amusing.”
Raiden, suddenly receiving the Saint’s warm embrace, remained composed, though Leno and the guards behind him were visibly flustered.
But the most startled of all was the so-called Saint herself.
‘W-what? I clearly aimed a punch at his face!’
Habits die hard—she always launched a punch when seeing Ferdinando—but now she found herself clinging to Raiden instead. Unbelievable.
Damn it. Whatever the reason, getting away from this creepy bastard was priority. But—
“Eeek, ughh!”
‘What is this, I can’t move!’
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break free, as if glued to his body.
As the Saint struggled, Raiden and Leno misunderstood the situation.
“Can’t the Saint speak?”
“Oh my. She wants desperately to convey God’s will, but cannot speak… oh God, such a harsh trial…”
“Damn…!”
She glared at Raiden from her perch on his neck. Seeing his pale face, she remembered his old advice:
‘Try using more polite words.’
She had called his name moments ago, so it wasn’t speechlessness. Then…
‘This damn bastard must have prevented me from cursing while I was unconscious!’
First blown away by light, now restrained in every way—this absurd torment nearly drove her mad.
Unable to speak even when she had so much to say, she fumed inwardly.
Leno placed a hand over his chest, gesturing a mock gesture of mourning.
“Oh, what a pity… it seems she truly cannot speak beyond invoking God’s name. I shall fetch paper and pen.”
Pretending to write, Leno gave a reassuring thumbs-up and left, leaving the Saint feeling completely drained.
“Argh…”
She couldn’t get a word out!
Yet, the Raiden-like figure smiled faintly.
“Bold Saint, touching me so freely upon first meeting.”
Despite his cold tone, his large hands gently supported her thighs and waist. Comfortable, yes—but the closeness also made her hear his breaths clearly.
“Or is there something special you want? Something the two of us should check together?”
“Grrrgh!”
