#80. If You Want, I’ll Become a Saint
It took him a long moment to realize that what he was looking at between the blades of grass was a white tombstone.
‘A gravestone? Here?’
Against the backdrop of the forest stood half a dozen white tombstones, each encircled by a delicate fence.
Drawn by an inexplicable pull, Nikolai crossed over the fence.
The gravestones were worn with time — no moss or dirt covered them, but the inscriptions had been eroded by years of wind and rain.
If he hadn’t looked closely, he wouldn’t have seen the faintly carved birth and death dates of the deceased.
They had been born and died on different days, yet every one of them bore the same title:
The Thirteenth High Priest.
Standing in the priests’ communal cemetery, Nikolai noticed something strange.
“This one lived to a hundred… this one, ninety-five? Every single high priest here lived past ninety?”
The average lifespan of an imperial citizen of Hartmann was less than sixty.
Even nobles, with all their wealth and luxury, barely exceeded that.
The poor often died before reaching fifty.
But here, not a single one had lived less than ninety years.
How could that be possible?
Had the God of Healing granted his priests some divine longevity?
Or had the temple fabricated the gravestones to glorify its sanctity?
Just as that eerie silence settled like time itself had stopped, Nikolai suddenly lifted his head.
He could feel a faint tremor beneath the ground.
A soft, lingering scent brushed the tip of his nose—
It was unmistakably Elisabeth’s.
“Elisabeth?”
His voice scattered into the empty air.
At that very moment, Elisabeth was experiencing a mystery she never asked for.
***
“What do you mean a divine revelation is coming? That’s ridiculous!”
A sudden gust of wind whipped through the chamber.
Thick droplets of water fell from the ceiling, surrounding her like a miniature storm.
Her crimson hair blew wildly, and her soaked clothes clung to her skin.
A biting chill crept into her bones.
“Saintess!”
Arkansas hurriedly stripped off his priest’s robe and draped it over her shoulders, not caring that his own body was getting drenched.
With one arm protectively around her, he said,
“Such things sometimes happen when an oracle descends—wind, rain, strange weather phenomena.”
“But this is a basement!”
“This is the first time I’ve seen it happen here myself.”
“Then why bring me underground? Did you know this would happen?”
Her teeth chattered from the cold.
Arkansas shook his head, visibly tense.
“The second relic is here. I needed to show it to you.”
“The High Priest didn’t seem to know a thing about it.”
“I only learned of it recently—through divine revelation.”
There was no time to question the truth of that statement.
Light streamed down the storm-whipped stairwell.
And then, a familiar voice echoed—
“The righteous dead has discovered Morashinsia’s Ice. A reward shall be granted. Do you accept it?”
It was a voice that carried nostalgia and sorrow, like an old song from a radio.
It didn’t enter through her ears—it resonated through her heart.
Her vision turned white.
The wind stopped.
The raindrops vanished.
The chill and fear melted away.
Wrapped in warmth, like sinking into freshly dried blankets, her lashes fluttered.
“The disease can be halted by the Ice of Morashinsia, Goddess of Healing. When the relic is activated, her ice will manifest.”
Was this what Arkansas had meant by the divine message?
But she hadn’t even seen the second relic yet—how could she have found it?
Suppressing the confusion swirling in her mind, Elisabeth asked the light,
“Are you Morashinsia? What are you doing to me?”
The white light ignored her question.
“Do you accept, or do you reject?”
Oh, this again!
The first time she’d encountered a relic, she’d been terrified—
because she didn’t believe she was worthy of being called a “righteous dead,” nor of receiving any reward.
The relics weren’t convenient cheat codes.
They were shackles tightening around her throat.
But she’d come too far.
Now she had only two choices—accept or refuse.
“So that’s how it’s gonna be? Fine! I accept! Okay!”
She shouted in frustration.
Arkansas stared at her blankly; it seemed he couldn’t hear the mystical voice.
“The righteous dead has accepted the second relic. If the third relic is not found, all rewards will be revoked.”
Of course.
She knew it.
“If the rewards vanish, the righteous dead’s soul will return to the previous world.”
The light answered what she hadn’t even asked.
Elisabeth crossed her arms, scoffing.
“I know. If I return to my old world, my soul will be erased.”
“If you do not wish to return to nothingness, find the three relics and eradicate the Cursed Horse.”
Her composure faltered.
“Wait—what? I thought collecting relics was the end of it! What’s this eradicate the cursed horse nonsense?!”
Her voice rose until her throat burned, but the white light had already vanished,
leaving behind only her and Arkansas, both drenched from head to toe.
“That damn thing just gave me a new quest!”
Her knees buckled.
She had thought all she needed to do was find the relics.
Frustration and exhaustion welled up in her eyes.
‘What kind of fantasy game is this?! “Defeat the cursed beast”? Can’t I just live as a beautiful, wealthy heiress? Every novel heroine does that! They fall in love, have romantic nights, cute kids, a happy ending—
Why does my life have to be so complicated?!’
“Saintess, are you all right?”
Arkansas reached to help her as she slumped down.
She wanted to snap at him, but she didn’t have the strength to stand on her own.
“Did you hear the oracle too?”
“I did not, my lady. Only the radiant light of the Holy Spirit filled the room.”
“Then how do you usually receive divine revelations?”
“I fasted for ten days and prayed in the Grand Cathedral. It happened three times—each time, I received visions of light, not words.”
Just imagining fasting for ten days made her dizzy.
“Is it rare to receive an oracle?”
“There have been only three cardinals in our history who ever received one. I am among them.”
“…!”
“The only reason I possess authority equal to the Archbishop is because of those revelations.”
A chill ran down her spine.
If that white light was a true oracle, then she had received three of them.
‘That puts me on the same level as a cardinal…! It wouldn’t even be strange if they start treating me like a saint!’
And that wasn’t all.
She was the only person able to use the relics.
Morashinsia’s Eye had been sleeping in the Marquis of Nettleton’s estate for generations.
She was the one who discovered it was a relic—and the only one who could wield the goddess’s power through it.
‘If there’d been another user before me, it wouldn’t have been abandoned in the chapel…’
She pressed her temples, her head throbbing.
At this rate, she’d be canonized as a saint against her will.
‘My brain’s already about to explode, and now I’m supposed to be a saint? Defeat a cursed beast? I’ll die of exhaustion before I even find the last relic. I need to escape this somehow…’
But there was a witness—Arkansas.
She glanced at him.
Even though his eyes were shadowed, she could easily imagine the reverent look he must be giving her.
“Saintess, we should move. You’ll catch a chill.”
He spoke with utmost politeness—more deferential than before.
“You said the second relic is here, right? Now that I’ve received a divine message, I can’t just go back empty-handed.”
Her tone was curt.
Arkansas bowed his head quickly.
“I was careless. Please, allow me to guide you.”
“It really is underground, isn’t it?”
“How could I speak falsehoods? Please, trust me, Saintess.”
His brows drooped in earnest humility.
At that moment, he didn’t look like the proud priest who once jabbed his staff at the High Priest’s chest or treated Nikolai like a common thug.
Watching him fumble awkwardly, Elisabeth stroked her chin.
‘If I play this right, this could work to my advantage. The Morashinsia Order has the greatest influence in the Empire, doesn’t it? Fine. If they want a saint, I’ll become one—just as much as it benefits me.’
A cardinal with near-archbishop authority was offering to serve her.
If she had to find the relics anyway, doing it through the church would be much easier.
But first, she had to win over this man—Arkansas.
Not that he wasn’t already halfway there.
“You said you received an oracle about me. Tell me everything—not a single word left out.”
When she finally emerged, soaked to the bone and supported by Arkansas, Nikolai froze like a statue.
Step, step.
He strode toward them, his posture menacing, and struck Arkansas’s hand off her shoulder—
as if shaking away something filthy.
“Don’t touch her.”
Nikolai’s glare burned into the priest before pulling Elisabeth into his arms.
The tension between them vanished instantly.
Her heart pounded—
simply because she was in Nikolai’s embrace.
“Your Majesty, it is you who must not approach our Saintess.”
Arkansas didn’t retreat; instead, he smiled with a smug curve of his lips.
A vein pulsed visibly at Nikolai’s temple.
“Our. Saint. Ess?”
Even the faintest breath in the same space made it impossible not to feel the murderous aura radiating from him.
“And why,” he growled,
“is Elisabeth your church’s Saintess?”
“How can you say otherwise after witnessing such a miracle?”
