Chapter 571 - Saint Seiki
"You have the qualities of a saint."
"...Who does?"
What?
A saint?
At first, Seiki felt nothing but suspicion.
In her hand, hidden beneath her cloak, was a short hunting dagger with a blade sharpened to perfection.
If so clumsy con artist tried anything funny, she was more than ready to relieve them of a few fingers.
And if they approached her with less honorable intentions, she wouldn't hesitate to remove sothing more vital.
That was how Seiki lived her life.
On the surface, she looked like a small, frail girl—an appearance that made her an easy target for swindlers or aggressors.
However, such an image didn't help much in her life as a hunter.
Monsters never hesitated when they saw her; if anything, they underestimated her, making her job easier.
Was this man just another fool taking her at face value?
Or did he have so ulterior motive?
She couldn't tell, but her experience from a year ago lingered.
Back then, a storyteller had tried to charm her with deceitful words.
When his real intent beca clear, Seiki made sure he would never pull the sa stunt again by separating him from a rather crucial body part.
Through her experiences, Seiki had learned that sotis, showing a glimpse of her strength was the quickest way to resolve things.
'He doesn't seem like the type to comnt on my looks given my current state.'
Seiki evaluated herself critically.
Even without a mirror, she had a good sense of her appearance.
She hadn't bathed in a while, leaving her face streaked with gri.
Her woolen hat, pulled low, covered her ears.
The man who addressed her claid to be a priest from a temple.
His platinum blonde hair was neatly combed, and he carried an ornate object that resembled a golden cluster of grapes with seven beads.
Seiki didn't know, but it was a sacred symbol representing his faith and position within the church.
'A weapon?'
It didn't look like one.
He didn't seem dangerous, either—not his robes, his deanor, or the setting.
They were in a corner of a small town market, not so desolate field or mountain trail where ambushes might occur.
And, beyond appearances, her instincts didn't detect any threat.
On the contrary, the man's presence exuded warmth, almost as if he bore endless goodwill toward her.
Their eting wasn't planned; she had simply sold so pelts and bought supplies when he approached her.
Out of the blue, he stopped her, whispered sothing about her being a saint, and then began to speak earnestly about divine blessings and joining the church.
Normally, Seiki would have ignored him.
But this ti, sothing was different.
She paused, lost in thought.
'Will you spend your whole life gutting beasts? Broaden your horizons. See the world.'
Her grandfather had said sothing similar before leaving three months ago.
She wasn't thrilled by the idea—why would she?
She didn't care for gods or saints.
To her, getting killed by a monster wasn't a matter of divine punishnt or fate but of poor preparation and lack of skill.
But her grandfather was usually right.
So perhaps this was worth considering.
"What happens if I beco a saint?" she asked.
The priest smiled warmly and replied, "You'll have everything you could ever desire. Anything the church can provide will be yours, Saint Child."
The church often referred to saints as the "Children of God."
"My na's not Saint Child. It's Seiki."
Thirteen-year-old Seiki knew the ways of the world but hadn't mastered them.
And so, she was fooled.
Was the priest a bad person?
No, he wasn't.
He was genuinely overjoyed to et her, sincerely believed she was a blessing, and truly thought her happiness lay within the church.
Even if she had refused to go with him, the Holy Kingdom wouldn't have let her live in peace once they learned of her existence.
Eventually, Seiki found herself in a monastery.
It wasn't in a city but perched on the outskirts of a mountain ridge.
The priest who guided her there blessed her with tears of gratitude before departing.
"Oh Lord, you have shown us your favor. The harvest is yours, and all abundance is your gift."
Seiki only half-listened as she entered the monastery.
Within two days, she realized she was a prisoner.
"Where are you going?"
There was always soone stationed at the doors.
The so-called priest of abundance monitored her every move under the guise of teaching her the ways of a saint.
While she could move freely within the monastery, any attempts to leave were forbidden.
She was trapped in both body and spirit.
A prison.
Seiki had spent three days in a jail cell at the age of twelve for causing a commotion with her blade.
Her grandfather had sold a valuable pelt to bail her out.
This was no different.
But was that really a problem?
Yes, it was.
Sensing sothing off about the monastery, Seiki began exploring under various pretexts, taking note of its layout.
"What's that place?"
She discovered an underground cavern beneath the monastery with traces of human activity leading inside.
She hadn't gone down—there was neither the opportunity nor the ti.
"It's a chapel for fasting and prayer."
They claid it was for devout ditation without food, but Seiki detected faint traces of food slls, along with breadcrumbs and small animal droppings.
What did that imply?
'They're keeping people down there.'
"What does a saint do?" she asked innocently, feigning ignorance.
The answers she received varied in usefulness, but she pieced them together to form a picture.
"A saint can create holy water and potions. The divine power of saints and holy n is vastly different from that of ordinary believers. It's a power to share and give. That's why you, Saint Seiki, must train further to perfect your abilities."
That was what the abbot, Shilma, told her.
'Underground. Food. Captivity.'
Saints could create potions. That ant her current value lay in her potential to produce these items.
If she mastered her divine power, what would she be forced to do?
Most likely, spend her days churning out potions.
Otherwise, there would be no reason to keep her confined.
Seiki wanted to experience the church and its ways for her own reasons, not to be trapped.
She certainly hadn't co here to live as a prisoner.
But even if she said, "I don't want to be a saint anymore. Let leave," they wouldn't let her go.
Seiki had been observing her surroundings from the very beginning.
She studied the buildings, morized their structures, and noted the layout.
It wasn't difficult for her.
Since childhood, she had morized the placent of traps in the forest just by looking at its shape.
Failing to do so would have ant death—sothing she had long accepted as natural.
Compared to where she grew up, the distinct features of the buildings, the moss-covered shadows, and the ivy-covered walls made them easy to identify.
A structural map began to form in her mind.
But it wasn't just the terrain. Seiki included everything—passing people, weapons, and movent patterns—into her ntal map.
She could even track those moving in real-ti.
It was one of the many skills her grandfather had taught her, a skill that was both her greatest asset and her sole possession.
She ticulously organized this knowledge without anyone noticing.
After completing the ntal three-dinsional map, she arrived at one conclusion:
"I can't escape without help."
Seiki's first escape attempt was also her last—it succeeded.
Her breakout began during a theology class when she held a knife to the teacher's neck.
It was a dining knife, but its purpose mattered little when it ca to threatening soone's life.
Up until then, she had feigned obedience and pretended to be incapable, so no one could have predicted this mont.
The room was small, containing only her and the teacher.
Using her understanding of the monastery's routines and environnt, Seiki moved decisively.
She utilized everything: the placent of windows, the underground storage inherent to monasteries, paths frequented and avoided by people, areas populated by individuals capable of subduing her with a single punch, and their likely routes.
Feigning escape, she scattered traces everywhere, ultimately hiding in the room of a young monk who had taken pity on her.
"Thank you."
"...Lord, punish and correct the sins of the Order."
The young monk acknowledged the absurdity of the situation in his prayer.
But there was little he could do beyond helping the pitiable child before him.
All Seiki asked was for a place to hide briefly, just enough ti to catch her breath.
That was enough for her.
She even told him that if he couldn't, he should at least explain why she was being imprisoned for life.
There was no reason for her to remain confined.
Therefore, the monk could not refute her words.
Not a debate, but truth spoken plainly.
In the end, he granted her wish.
It was the best he could do under the circumstances.
Why?
Because pointing out such injustice openly would result in his own swift execution by fire.
He was a remnant of conscience within a decaying order, and Seiki had recognized his nature.
In hunting and chasing monsters, she had learned to utilize everything around her—and she did just that.
The monastery resembled a fortress more than a place of worship, and while it housed believers and monks, not all of them were despicable.
After hiding in the monk's room for half a day, when the pursuers realized they had been misled, she donned the young monk's robes and ventured outside.
She fabricated a plausible story about accompanying a priestess who had cared for her—a figure akin to a nursemaid.
Two allies.
Without them, escaping this fortified monastery would have been impossible.
Passing through the colonnaded cloisters, past the statues of seven martyrs and the sculpture of seven grapes symbolizing their god, she left the prison they called a monastery behind.
"Thank you," she said.
The middle-aged woman who had posed as her nursemaid responded with a smile that softened her eyes—a truly warm expression.
"Live as you wish."
"Won't my departure put you in danger?"
"A child like you wouldn't stop for such worries, would you, Seiki?"
The woman exuded kindness and compassion.
If a divine being or its incarnation existed, it would surely resemble her.
Seiki nodded as she recalled the theology she had barely studied.
"Sorry, I have my own desires, and I intend to live by them."
Stopping here out of pity wasn't an option.
She stepped out of the sanctuary and walked, ran, and hid through the city and beyond.
Along the way, she avoided monsters and magical beasts but had to pull off so daring feats when she noticed pursuers tailing her.
Once, she even traversed a swamp teeming with dozens of lizardn unard, a route no one would have dared to take.
Despite losing her trail, she was forced to enter a city, where she knew her pursuers would eventually follow.
It wasn't a mistake—it was necessary for her to prepare for the next stage of her escape.
She sold a silver candlestick stolen from the monastery and bought essential items: a hunting knife, sturdy boots, a cloak, and spare clothes.
The mont her pursuers arrived in the city, Seiki disguised herself as a hunter's child joining a hunting party and left.
Walking tirelessly, using every skill her grandfather had taught her, she evaded danger and continued north.
She avoided hills, caves, and mountain ridges, keeping her senses alert to any movent.
Eventually, she reached Felheim, intending to shake off her remaining pursuers once and for all.
"Persistent bastards."
In the city, as she was about to leave, their numbers suddenly grew.
What felt like fewer than ten earlier had now beco dozens.
They spread out wide, casting a massive net to capture her.
Even knowing she was being chased, Seiki deliberately headed into a dead-end: the forest. It was the best route to escape, even if it seed like the worst.
"Not the end of the world."
Though injured, her innate divine qualities allowed her to recover from wounds quickly.
She didn't understand how to wield her holy power consciously, but her body healed unnaturally fast.
"Are you a Frog hybrid instead of an Elf hybrid?"
"Frogs lay eggs. Did they pull out of one? Only my grandfather would know."
"Your mother is my daughter, you brat."
Her grandfather's exasperated words still echoed in her mind.
Since childhood, her rapid recovery had been treated as extraordinary but left unexplained.
After half a day of running without pause, she finally reached the mountainous region known as North Felheim.
It was part of the distant Gigant Mountain range, a place infamous for its dangers—ho to monsters that could breathe fire.
Despite this, Seiki planned to venture further north along the treacherous ridges.
That plan crumbled when figures appeared before her.
"Saint Child," said a woman with a warm smile standing at the center of the group.
"My na is Seiki," she declared, asserting her identity.
She was no holy child.
She was simply Seiki.
The woman, however, was none other than the one who had once congratulated her on becoming the saint of the Order—a title she rejected.
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