Chapter 118. The Saint (6)
A hospital on the outskirts of Nortaris.
"How is she?"
"It is fortunate you arrived in ti. She has passed the critical point. We will need to monitor her condition for the ti being, but you may set your worries aside."
At the doctor's words, the rims of Hector's eyes flushed red.
"Thank you, truly thank you, doctor…."
It was Cecily who had insisted on coming to Nortaris, but it was Hector himself who had permitted it and brought her along. Had anything happened to Cecily, he would have writhed in guilt for the rest of his life.
"Not at all. In truth, there was little we ourselves did. It was entirely thanks to the Saint's exceptional treatnt……."
The doctor gently reassured the tearful Hector before stepping out. Hector sank into the chair beside Cecily.
The deathly pallor that had looked as though she might stop breathing at any mont had settled into a peaceful calm.
"Cecily……."
Hector was a devout believer.
Cecily, collapsing suddenly on the roadside. And then, appearing like a saviour at that very mont—the Saint, Stella.
A Saint is one who has received divine grace. In the sacred magic of healing and purification, she stands several tiers above even high-ranking priests.
That in the very mont help was needed, the Saint had been in that very place—the word miracle was insufficient to express it.
"This is no ti to be sitting here!"
Reflecting on the miracle of that mont, Hector snapped to his feet.
This was not how things could be left. At the ti, there had been no room to gather his wits, and he had failed to stop Stella before she vanished.
Even recalling it now, he felt he understood why she was venerated as a Saint.
He was puzzled as to why soone as busy as she would be here in the North, but……
It was characteristic of the Church that its symbolic significance outweighed political power. For one who could be considered its very pinnacle—a Saint—even lifting a single finger would bring all manner of ceremony and protocol in her wake.
Had she so chosen, she could have gone about surrounded by golden-ornanted carriages drawn by eight warhorses and a full retinue of bodyguards.
Yet the Saint had done no such thing. She had pulled that worn robe down over her head and lowered herself to walk among the common people. And she had willingly knelt in the dirt to render her good deed.
In that, Hector felt the will of the Almighty.
"I must repay this……."
When one receives grace, it is only right to return it. Once Cecily's condition had stabilised, it would be the proper thing to seek the Saint out and offer his gratitude.
***
During the Consecration Ritual proceedings, Stella had decided to lodge at Brigitte's townhouse.
The townhouse where Penelope and Jurgen lived together had no spare room, and she had declined the Renoir Mansion on the grounds that it was too grand.
The first day of the Consecration Ritual concluded, and on her way back from tending to the young lady who had collapsed on the street.
Stella arrived ho in a state that was neither particularly good nor bad. There was a modest sense of fulfilnt, but tending to the sick was hardly a new occurrence.
If anything, the feeling that weighed more heavily on her heart was more along the lines of 'I had been hoping for so peace and quiet for a while, but this might get noisy…….'
"Saint! Welco back!"
"B, Brigitte, Sister?"
"No need to address
so formally! Um, I, that… what was it…? I am a humble soul!"
Brigitte had dropped to her knees in the entryway to receive Stella.
"Before the light of the Almighty, none may stand above another. I too am but a small servant, following the calling given to ."
"But the Saint is so extraordinary!"
"I too am no more than a vessel put to use. Please do not place
on a pedestal."
"No! How important a vessel is! Even in cooking, when presenting to a guest, the vessel is essential!"
Stella smiled gently and helped Brigitte to her feet.
"Oh! I've done my very best to prepare a al for today too!"
She had lodged at her ho for only about three days, but among all the people Stella had encountered, Brigitte was one who possessed a transparent soul.
If everyone in the world carried a soul as childlike as Brigitte's, religion might not be necessary at all.
"I am grateful for today's al as well. Sister Brigitte."
"Please, do enjoy it…. And please be sure to spread the word that the cook nad Brigitte is an incredibly, incredibly talented chef."
"Pardon? Why is that?" "
Because I'm going to open a restaurant one day! If people hear I'm the chef praised by the Saint, lots of custors will co! And then I'll earn lots of money!"
Was that right?
"Sister Brigitte, why is it that you wish to earn a great deal of money?"
"So that I can make a very, very large donation for my grandfather to go to heaven!"
…Was that right?
"Oh, could the Saint perhaps send him there herself?"
"Sister, firstly, making a large donation does not in itself grant one passage to heaven. And furthermore, it is not within the domain I govern."
"Why not?!"
"Well……."
In any case, Stella liked Brigitte.
She sotis wondered what it would be like to have a younger sister…… And above all, her cooking was exceptionally, truly exceptionally, fine.
Even when asked to cook using only simple ingredients like beans and eggs, whatever Brigitte's hands touched beca a dish more splendid than any delicacy.
Stella had been pondering whether there was so way she might coax Brigitte into coming to the convent…… No, whether she might set Brigitte on the path of true faith, when—
In the middle of what was no different from the previous day's conversation.
"By the way, Saint."
"Yes."
"You didn't co to the North for the Cola Consecration Ritual, did you?"
"Pfft!"
At Brigitte's suddenly sharp question, Stella sprayed Cola.
"W, what do you an by that?"
"I'm not all that clever, but sohow it just seed that way."
"W, why did you think so?"
"Hmm, let
see."
Perhaps there was sothing that passed between people of a similar kind? Though it had only been a few days, Brigitte had co to think of Stella as a wonderful elder sister.
"Hmm…. The Saint doesn't seem like the sort of person who would co all the way to the North out of wanting Cola."
"…That is true."
"It's because of Jurgen, isn't it?"
"Eck."
"I might be wrong, but the two of you seem very close. Don't you?!"
Faced with Brigitte's unexpectedly sharp perception, Stella deliberated.
Those sparkling, wide-bright eyes. Sothing about it made her reluctant to tell an untruth in front of Brigitte.
Besides, as long as she didn't reveal that 'Hanbin = Jurgen,' there was nothing particularly wrong with saying it, was there?
"This is a secret…. Yes, you're right. Brother Jurgen and I have known each other since childhood."
"Aha! Just as I thought!"
And so the al ended. Once the washing up was done, Brigitte slipped outside in the window of ti Stella spent in the shower, dashing off at a trot.
A shadowy wall well away from foot traffic. Standing there was a woman of indeterminate age wearing a hat pulled low and a brown coat.
Serena.
"Brigitte, what did the Saint say?"
"Sister Serena's guess was right! The Saint and Jurgen have known each other since childhood, she said……!"
"I, indeed……."
Yes. The truth was, Brigitte was not particularly quick on the uptake.
And so all of her sharp deductions had been Serena's.
The request to please keep it secret—out of apologies to the Saint—had also not taken hold. Because Brigitte was closest to Serena within Y&P Trading Company.
"Is there any other information?"
"Hmm, I'm not sure. Maybe that the Saint likes Baked Beans cooked in tomato sauce?"
"If there's anything else, I'll ask again."
"Sure! Spy gas are fun!"
Brigitte disappeared. The brim of the detective's hat cast a serious shadow across Serena's face.
"Hmmmm……."
Serena was timid and faint-hearted.
Yet what creature senses the sinking of a ship faster than anyone? A creature small and weak, and for that very reason possessed of survival instincts developed to a remarkable degree.
A rat.
Perhaps for that reason, Serena felt a sense of crisis in the current situation more acutely than anyone.
The situation where Bell—Clarisse's close confidante—had been done away with in a reckless stroke. That had in all likelihood been the work of Jurgen's hands, not the new security team leader Dominic.
What Serena was most wary of was that the identity of Jurgen—the most probable culprit who had wiped out Bell—remained utterly shrouded in mystery.
She could not begin to gauge what purpose might have driven him to carry out such a reckless act…… So it had been necessary to examine the present situation closely, by whatever ans available.
Then, let us take stock of what was known about him.
A visionary and Technical Noble with a level of thinking that Serena could not keep up with—though not particularly gifted in practical matters.
Thoroughly versed in all manner of law and docuntation knowledge. In certain domains, able to converse fluently even with the legal team staff of Y&P Trading Company.
An Alchemist who could dispatch Dark Mages and Clarisse's retainers with ease. Capable of tidying up the Northern Mafia within a single month. Additionally, a Familiar-user who commanded the charming monster known as Vic.
A boldness and composure bordering on the superhuman. A depth of strategising and political acun so vast she could not even begin to gauge where it had all been planned from.
And on top of all that.
"If the Saint has known him since childhood……."
Britannia's Saint, Stella. A lovely appearance and more good deeds than could be counted, but what placed 'Britannia's' before her na was the fact that from her youth she had ventured into the Demon Realm and contributed greatly to the Great Subjugation—a true Hero.
Not rely a chaplain, but reportedly one who had handled healing and subjugation on the actual front lines?
The mbers still spoken of today as the Six Heroes alongside Stella were……
The Witch Isolde, the Steadfast Brok, the Empress Ravina, the Sword Saint Kaylus.
And…… Hanbin Ainsworth?
"N, no, surely not……."
Serena felt the breath seize in her throat at the weight of that na.
An ordinary person might say 'Hanbin? A remarkable man, the Minister of Internal Affairs as well' and leave it at that.
But anyone who had ever moved in high society even once would feel the weight of that na in their bones. No matter how extraordinary the Six Heroes, frankly speaking, even pooling the influence of all of them together fell well short of Hanbin's.
A magnate before whom even distinguished noble houses of long lineage—even the royal family itself—could not conduct themselves carelessly.
Soone who, if the mood struck him over lunch and he happened to say 'hmm, I've suddenly taken a dislike to the Renoir Viscountcy's existence in this world,' could have it arranged before dinner.
Why would a person like that have any need to make Cola for Y&P Trading Company? Or make chicken?
Granted, both were delicious, but…… That was not the level at which one fixated on such things.
"But wait……."
Serena's head was spinning. That ti Penelope had gone into the Demon Realm together with Isolde and been ambushed by a Dark Mage.
Hanbin Ainsworth, who had appeared right on cue and saved Penelope.
"Ah."
The article she had read just before Y&P Trading Company began selling Cola—[Hanbin Ainsworth Temporarily Steps Down from Ministerial Position].
"Ah."
The Saint, who had co dashing to the North in her socks because of her ties with 'Jurgen' going back to 'childhood.'
"Ah."
Serena's mouth fell open.
It was the mont intuition and instinct gathered the circumstantial evidence together and drew a single picture.
The identity of the veiled Senior Jurgen was…… Goodness, it really was Hanbin Ainsworth!
"Why is this actually real……?"
Serena felt her head grow very, very dizzy.
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