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Chapter 15 - The Saintess's love is so heavy it's scary 15

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What is the most unacceptable thing to do at a funeral?

I think it would be resurrection.

I'd even go so far as to say that anybody who shows up resurrected in front of a group of people who are ready, willing, and able to let them go, and who insists that they actually have one more breath left in them, deserves to be killed on the spot.

Even Jesus himself had to wait a few days before performing his resurrection for fear of inconveniencing his disciples, so it's hardly necessary to explain how unannounced resurrections can be an uncomfortable practice.

''Lobel, my Lobel, wake up! It's me, your lovely fiancée, Grenola!''

''Master! Master Lobel, it's me! I'm Carlyle, your personal servant!''

''Master! Master Lovell, your kitten Natasha is here!''

The dizzying sight that was unfolding through the small crack in the doorway paralyzed my painstakingly relaxed facial muscles once again.

For a moment, I wondered if I had visited the wrong indoor garden.

The colorful bouquets of flowers that bloomed all over the room, in every direction, were being wasted solely as ornaments to support a man lying reverently in the center of the room.

The women in their dresses, chattering incessantly like baby birds feeding their mother, seemed to be having a competition to see who could call the man's name the most times.

''What kind of division is this----. What the hell----.''

''These are Father Lovell's lovers----. They must have gotten word from the servants they've planted that Priest Lovell is in critical condition----.''

''The 'lovers'?''

Ranovel's already starving motivation to rescue Ranovel was completely extinguished immediately after hearing the nun's words.

The sheer absurdity of the scene - a dozen or so beautiful women, by my rough estimate, clinging to a single man, whispering pathetic words of love - was enough to stir up the primal killer in me.

''That's strange----. I thought our sect had a holy doctrine that strictly forbade premarital fornication----.''

''I believe you are the only one in the Order who still adheres to that holy doctrine.''

''----Really?''

A feeling of emptiness, betrayal, or something else I couldn't fully define swept through my mind, but I realized it was pointless to dwell on what had already passed, so I just sighed.

''Hah----.''

''I'm sorry----. I did the best I could, but there were some ladies who were also the Grand Duke's restraints----.''

''No----. There's no need for you to apologize----.''

I looked somewhat pitiful as I held my head in one hand, and the nun apologized to me in a self-pitying voice.

The saintess, who gratefully acquiesced to my life-threatening threats, explained to me that the Ranovel Priestly repair she had taught me was a rather unseemly act to perform in front of so many witnesses.

Deciphering the full meaning of the saintess's words, which were even more slurred than usual due to my lack of native vocabulary and my emotions, was quite a task, but after all the time we'd spent together, it was well within my capabilities to figure out the root of her words.

I lifted my left hand and peered at the unfamiliar sigil on the back of my hand.

This ornate symbol, which I hadn't seen before I entered the Realm, was part of the power the saintess had entrusted to me for a time, the so-called Power Grip.

I deduced from the saintess's explanation that if I struck Priest Ranovel with the full force of my hand, I might be able to return his soul to its rightful place after its temporary escape.

---Maybe.

Honestly, I had somehow managed to come up with a plausible answer, but if anyone asked me if I could be sure of my answer, if I could be responsible for my words, I would say no.

I would say no, because the answer is inferred from the words and actions of the saintess, not anyone else.

'Ice----. BANG----. With this----. Hard----. If it clicks----. Better----.'

This was the full text of what the saintess, who had carved this unintelligible symbol on the back of my hand, muttered under her breath.

I was desperate to find out if my answer was the right one, but there was no red pen or Mr. Kumon to read my choice. In the end, the choice was mine alone.

''Woohoo----.''

It was a strange feeling.

My desire to save Ranobel was fading, but I was filled with ironic thoughts that made me want to punch him in the face.

But even if she did give in to this impulse and succeeded in beating him to a pulp in front of everyone, that would be asking for trouble.

A young priest, considered one of the best in the system, has fallen gravely ill for reasons unknown.

In an attempt to heal him, the chapel's highest-ranking clerics and finest holy water were utilized, but nothing seemed to improve the priest's condition.

While everyone was in despair, word reached the ears of the public that the hitherto incompetent and overpaid Guardian Priest had somehow managed to save the poor General from death's door.

It would be safe to say that my retirement would be a foregone conclusion.

A quandary. It was a grim situation, with no way forward and no way out.

A cold sweat drenched my back and small of my back, and pins and needles in my stomach alerted my body to the fact that the strain on my mind was reaching its limit.

My heartfelt admiration for the Ranovel priest, who, even in his unconscious state, could spontaneously create ways to torment me, almost burst forth from the podium.

So this is the Sahuinen I've only heard about.

''What are you going to do, Priest Razis?''

The nun, whose gaze slipped to the back of my left hand, asked my intentions.

The pure white sigil on the back of my hand glowed as brightly as if it had been coated in glow-in-the-dark paint, but the intensity of the light and the sublime power inherent in it were fading with time.

And that meant that this borrowed miracle had a time limit.

Refills would probably be impossible.

If I recall correctly, the moment immediately after the saintess engraved it.

Only this once. I have to hurry.

She had said something along these lines to me repeatedly.

That was the moment when it became clear that Saintess wasn't just trying to put Ranovel to sleep for a while, she was actually planning to finish him off, but I just pretended not to notice.

''Lobel! Black, black! Mr. Lobel, please, please wake up!''

While I was deep in thought, another mournful wail came from beyond the doorway.

It came from a young, inexperienced-looking maid girl who was easily recognizable as a newcomer.

''Oh, God, if there is a God, He could not have done this! There is no one in all the world as good as Mr. Lovell, and he was so kind and wonderful to me that he even took the blame for the accidental pot I dropped and hit another priest on the head!

Was that you.

I barely managed to bite back the shout that nearly escaped my mouth and swallowed.

It was quite a surprise to realize that the nameless maid who had placed the pot on my head was a real person, and it was interesting to learn that the seemingly deliberate accident had actually been an accident.

None of that takes away from the bad impression I have of Father Ranovel.

Out of about a hundred misdeeds, only one turned out to be a misunderstanding.

I'm the kind of reader who never forgives characters who try to sneak in on the side of the allies by glossing over their previous misdeeds, even in manga and novels.

A person's character is formed by the time they take shape, and that character is not easily changed, especially not for the better.

The Ranovel priest is a vile human being who bullies and harasses anyone he sees, and I would feel no remorse if he were to die. It's not like I killed him.

Honestly, if it weren't for the circumstances, I'd probably just look the other way.

Alas, I'll just leave that one behind.

The tempting option was just beginning to cross my troubled mind.

Suddenly, Sister said to me

''By the way, if you can spare Priest Lovell's life here, in addition to the 10 outing permits, I will strongly suggest to the headmaster that he be allowed to set aside a meal for Priest Reyes at every mealtime from now on. Moreover, once every two days, he must send a meat side dish to----.''

Immediately afterward, I kicked the slightly ajar door roughly open and entered Priest Ranovel's funeral chamber, my voice the most booming I've ever heard since I was born.

''I can resurrect him-!!!''

In the newspaper published a few days later, [Saintess's exclusive guardian priest. Saves Priest Lovell from the curse of the socialite, with the added humility that he was only doing what he had to do-] will appear in all caps.

Blinded by self-interest, there was no thought left in me to judge of the gravity of such an event.

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