Chapter 25
The Saintess and the Woodcutter (3)
“The department head’s office is not an infirmary.”
The Saintess said something strange. Ivan tilted his head to one side.
The place they called an infirmary would probably do nothing more than rub a little healing potion on external wounds or, at best, have a newly ordained priest cast Heal on them.
Was she saying the students should be forced to endure such a horrifying experience when they had an actual Saintess right here?
Seeing Ivan’s expression, the Saintess thumped her chest in frustration. Even with the violent shaking, Ivan did not bother averting his gaze. The Saintess was a devout member of the Church, after all.
“No! I have work of my own too! Do you have any idea how busy I am? This is my first year in the position! There was no proper handover, freshmen and upperclassmen and professors keep barging in here to chatter at me, none of the course curricula have even been finalized—what kind of university is this?!”
“Hmm.”
As the Saintess denounced the primitive premodern education system, Ivan and Enrique nodded simultaneously.
They had nothing useful to add, but they had to agree with her for now.
Ivan turned away from the pitiful religious woman who was vigorously lamenting her circumstances. The department head’s office possessed a certain antique charm.
He could not tell whether it reflected the tastes of the previous department head or the Saintess herself, but there were certainly a lot of plants.
An orchid…? Was it an orchid?
Ivan knew little about plants, so he passed the time by holding and stroking the leaves of an elegant plant spilling luxuriantly out of one of the pots.
He was a gardener.
Snap.
One of the orchid leaves broke off with a crisp sound. Unfortunately, it happened to be the thickest and most impressive blade, so it snapped especially cleanly.
Without changing his expression, Ivan looked away. Fortunately, the Saintess did not seem to have noticed. She was still loudly ranting to Enrique about her classes.
There had been a similar scene in that noir film—New Wrld*, perhaps.
Expressionless, Ivan rotated the pot. It turned without a sound, concealing the broken leaf.
“No, yes, I understand that it’s difficult, Patty. I understand perfectly. So could you turn off the light now? I admit I was wrong.”
“Why not take this opportunity to convert? My heart will always remain open as I wait for you, Lady Enrique.”
“That sounds less like conversion and more like ascension to heaven…”
The Saintess was the person closest to heaven in the entire world.
Except for the Pope, that was.
In other words, the divine power bursting from her in response to her emotions was currently crushing Enrique in real time. Perhaps it was just Ivan’s imagination, but Enrique seemed to have become slightly smaller.
Taking a guarded posture, Enrique spoke cautiously.
“Uh… Hmm. Oh, right. Patty, there’s something I need to tell you. Don’t be surprised. I came here specifically to say this, but it slipped my mind. Honestly, look at me.”
“Yes. Before you speak, please tell me it is less surprising than fifty critically injured freshmen.”
The Saintess was accustomed to Enrique making a fuss, so she calmly lifted her teacup. Her throat had become dry after her passionate tirade.
Enrique chuckled and opened her mouth.
“This fellow was actually dragged here.”
“Yes, I was already considering paying Elise a visit after hearing that an orphanage director had suddenly become a gardener. I was going to ask what she thought she was doing to a retired man.”
“No, you idiot. I said he was dragged here. You know. Like Max. From another world.”
“Pffft?!”
The Saintess spat out her tea and began to tear up. After coughing repeatedly for a while, she barely managed to straighten herself.
“Why are you only telling me now…?”
“He thought he was the only one. And does he look like the kind of person who would attend psychological counseling?”
“My goodness…”
The Saintess looked at Ivan and swallowed. She began speaking in a trembling voice.
“You must have been so lonely… To think that the shock drove you to grow such a beard… Brother Kirilts…”
“No. That is not why I grew it.”
“It’s all right. Everything is all right…”
With a benevolent smile, the Saintess warmly clasped Ivan’s hand. Divine power softly spread from her and flowed through Ivan’s veins.
It was pleasantly warm.
Even as Enrique recoiled and retreated to the far end of the sofa, the Saintess continued smiling warmly at Ivan.
“It is all right, Brother… There is nothing strange about you. Many others have shared your fate, and more will surely follow. O Lord, guide this poor lamb…”
“I find this current situation strange and awkward.”
“That is understandable. Entirely understandable… The Hero was the same…”
She remembered the day she had been moved to tears upon hearing that he had retired and opened an orphanage.
Despite the horrific war he had endured since childhood, this pitiful young man had grown into such a steadfast adult and developed a kind heart capable of embracing unfortunate children.
Could that not be proof of the Lord’s existence?
The Saintess had wholeheartedly supported Ivan’s retirement and sent a substantial donation every year. She had even personally chosen the orphanage’s name!
And now, look at Ivan.
Orphanages were fundamentally poor. That was partly due to insufficient donations, but also because of wicked directors who sought to profit from the children.
It was a world where incidents were reported several times every year involving directors who pocketed generous donations and then sold the orphans they had raised into the back alleys.
But this man…
He wore dirty work clothes and wiped away his sweat with a stained towel while diligently earning an honest wage.
Clearly, it was all so that he could provide the children with a more prosperous life.
“Ah…”
And he was from another world?
Yet he had still taken in and raised the orphans of this world—children from an “alien” world with absolutely no connection to him?
How could anyone…
The Saintess’s eyes reddened.
“Brother Kirilts…”
“I would prefer it if you did not call me by that name.”
“I like your baptismal name.”
“I was far too young when it was chosen.”
Ivan extended a hand toward Enrique, who was making a mischievous face. The Saintess naturally made the sign of the cross and placed a hand over her chest.
“I was utterly convinced that you were a sodomite, Brother.”
“Cough…!”
Enrique choked and pounded her chest.
“Considering all the women you rejected so coldly, what other conclusion could I have reached?”
“…There were circumstances.”
“Of course. Of course.”
A royal guardsman was forbidden from becoming privately intimate with nobles or influential figures.
Back when he had earned fame as “Little” Ivan—when his value in the marriage market had soared—it had unfortunately coincided with his service in the Royal Guard.
Besides, his goal had been to return to Earth. How could he possibly waste time playing at romance?
That sentiment had not changed much even now. The only difference was that he was no longer regarded as a highly desirable prospect.
“It was because of your vows, was it not? A brother as devout as you must surely have been honoring the vows you made at your baptism…”
Poverty, chastity, and obedience—the three evangelical counsels he had vowed to uphold upon being baptized.
Ivan’s appearance was the very embodiment of poverty. He had passed thirty without a single romantic scandal, embodying chastity. And he had relinquished both honor and position to return to the countryside, embodying obedience.
He was practically a portrait of piety.
The Saintess nodded.
“Do not become a priest. You truly will be forbidden from marrying.”
“…Hmm.”
“Still, should you continue living so chastely, perhaps… perhaps the Lord may one day grant you His favor. The Lord embraces all with love, and love between two people is the greatest blessing beneath the heavens.”
“…Hmm…”
“I must visit your orphanage today. It is nearly time to leave, so let us go together.”
“You said you hadn’t finished your work.”
“The only person above me in this university is the chancellor, and the only one above me beneath these heavens is the Lord God Himself, Enrique.”
“Wow.”
Enrique quietly accepted her reasoning.
The Saintess was uncomfortable to deal with.
Ivan was once again reminded of this obvious truth.
There were many reasons. Perhaps because she had spent her childhood rolling through battlefields, the Saintess was excessively emotional, terrifyingly devout, and even when dressed in perfectly modest clothing, she occasionally forced others to mind where they looked.
Naturally, Ivan was a sensible man and held no interest in a priest’s body.
The greatest reason, however, was that she stood alongside Elizaveta as one of the orphanage’s largest benefactors.
One could never have an equal relationship with the person holding the purse strings. Following that principle, Ivan always maintained an appropriate distance from the orphanage’s donors.
“Ah… O Lord. Behold this beautiful sight.”
The Saintess began sobbing the moment she entered the orphanage grounds. Naturally, the children shrieked excitedly and crowded around her.
Their lively expressions and plump cheeks showed no sign of poverty. The most impoverished-looking person in the entire orphanage was Ivan himself.
The facilities were excellent, and every door opened smoothly on clean, well-oiled hinges. The ends of the hallways and the corners of the furniture had even been carefully padded with soft sponges.
Such meticulous consideration…
Tears welled in the Saintess’s eyes as she stared at a large piece of graffiti drawn on one corner of the orphanage building.
The mischievous work of one of the children depicted a bearded monster handing out presents while scowling fiercely.
It conveyed the children’s love so profoundly that the Saintess finally pressed a hand over her eyes and leaned against the wall.
“You have already become a wonderful father.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
“After all, the most precious bonds are those forged through the heart rather than blood… Brother Kirilts… You shine so brightly that I can barely see… Ah, Lord…”
“I think she’s trying to make me laugh myself to death. Disciple, this is starting to become too much for me. May I leave first?”
“No.”
Enrique clutched her forehead in agony.