The Magical Holy Woman Seraphina - Chapter 28

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Magic Saint Seraphina
Episode 28
“So the Temple’s covering the cost of my Brooch, then?”
Black hair tied neatly into a single braid. Johann Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park Yeon Strauss III’s slender fingers—their tips stained with ink—flicking gently against a dewy nose. A face unmarred by cosmetics.
A plain uniform that hung to the calves, unadorned.
Of all the differences between night and morning, the only thing that remained the same was the brightness gleaming in both eyes beneath the morning sun, and…
“I can’t sacrifice my Brooch to implement justice, now can I?”
Pragmatic to the core.
‘Unbelievable. She’s genuinely hilarious.’
Without realizing it, Cassian suppressed the smile rising to his lips, pressing it down with his fingertips.
“Two, did you even bathe?”
What? He hadn’t? No wonder the smell was— Cassian stepped forward with audible footfalls toward where the Magic Saint was bickering with Johann-and-a-string-of-names III.
“Hello, Magic Saint.”
“Erk.”
Seraphina lifted her head at the sound and rose, cradling Johann-all-those-titles III in her arms.
She barely acknowledged him with a sound like “erk” instead of a proper greeting, yet somehow it wasn’t unpleasant—it was oddly amusing. Cassian bit back his laughter and feigned composure as he asked, “I heard you were attacked at the reporter’s house.”
“Yeah. Some man I’d never seen before.”
Seraphina spoke matter-of-factly about how she didn’t know how he’d discovered she was infiltrating Skitter’s residence or why he’d come after her.
He’d heard about the ambush and hadn’t slept out of shock, yet she stood there composed as if nothing had happened.
Was she braver than she appeared?
When he’d first transformed Seraphina into a Magic Saint, he hadn’t been blind to the dangers that might follow. But an ambush like this had fallen outside his calculations.
“From the way he kept saying ‘my lord,’ it seems like he was someone’s lackey.”
Cassian spoke to Seraphina, who was shaking her head: “With that face and build, why does he only ever threaten puppies?”
“He was probably tracking your Benevolent Magic.”
“That’s possible?”
“According to historical records.”
Cassian continued without mentioning that he’d spent the entire night tearing through the Grand Temple library to unearth those very texts.
“Nine hundred and fifty years ago, some villain supposedly invented a tool that could detect Benevolent Magic. If it wasn’t destroyed and has been passed down since then…”
“Then using it to hunt me down would’ve been entirely possible.”
“Exactly. He tracked the magical aura you emit after your Transformation.”
“So he could find me at my Boarding House too?”
“Not if you’re careful. Detecting magical presence takes time.”
“So I can’t stay in my transformed state for long at home.”
Seraphina shook her head—there were truly all types of people in this world. Cassian looked down at the Magic Saint.
A single long black eyelash had fallen onto her cheek. It was positioned too intimately for him to reach over and brush away, so he simply let his gaze linger.
A breeze stirred, and the scarf of her uniform fluttered lightly.
Neat. Orderly. Seraphina.
A different Seraphina from the night.
A Magic Saint living as an ordinary Clothing Shop employee.
She seemed sharp and capable—an unremarkable woman. And yet beneath it all lay…
‘A lion’s heart that wouldn’t flinch even under attack.’
And…
‘The fists of a beast that would beat down anything that irritated her.’
Seraphina finally spoke: “Well, since we have no leads on that front, there’s no point dwelling on it. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
As she said this, she was still holding Johann-with-all-his-names III, and she scratched between his brows with her fingertip—tap, tap, tap.
Cassian found himself staring, utterly transfixed.
Then, abruptly, the Magic Saint asked him a question.
“By the way, Cassian—how did you really know?”
“Know what?”
“That Rozena was the victim.”
Was that important right now? You were the one who got attacked.
“…A friend who attended dramatic school with Rozena came to pray at the Grand Temple.”
“Mm?”
“Back in school, no one worked with more sincerity than Rozena did. He’d been secretly fond of her.”
He was too afraid of the children who bullied Rozena to say anything openly, but in his heart, he’d always thought she was remarkable. When Rozena finally returned to her hometown, he regretted that he’d never once told her she was magnificent.
“So when Rozena changed her name and made her debut, he recognized her immediately.”
“…I see.”
“But Rozena herself had lost her passion for acting and was working at a Hat Shop instead.”

“You can’t be serious?”
“That’s right. The Hat Shop where Rozena and the reporter were spotted quarreling.”
He’d felt guilty about not being able to help her then, so this time he’d come to the Temple to pray for a way to assist her. Cassian continued.
“And.”
“And?”
“There was an employee among those managing Rozena’s wardrobe who was stealing and selling her information.”
The director of the Theater Company she belonged to had sworn to make that person pay once caught.
“It seems they stole things like letters from Rozena’s family out of the dressing room and sold them to the reporter.”
“Ah!”
Seraphina’s eyes widened as realization struck.
“That’s why they ran out of the dressing room! I saw that person’s face!”
I actually caught sight of them!
“What do I do? I haven’t told Rozena about this yet!”
“Don’t worry. They’ve already been caught by the director.”
“That’s good then.”
Seraphina placed a hand over her heart and looked up at Cassian.
Their eyes met.
“So Cassian, you’d already suspected as much. That Rozena was the victim.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m glad. I almost thought you were just trying to help her as a fan—I would’ve been so disappointed.”
“Disappointed?”
In me? Cassian’s eyes widened without meaning to.
Seraphina met his gaze squarely, speaking with absolute confidence.
“Of course I could be disappointed in you. If you don’t meet my standards.”
Just as you can test me, I can test you.
“You don’t have a monopoly on that right.”
With that, Seraphina shrugged her shoulders.
“Congratulations on passing the test.”
She said it brightly, then looked away.
Withdrawing her gaze from Cassian, Seraphina placed Johann Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park Yeon Strauss III into his stiffened arms.
“Then I’m off. If you have another task, send Two-Boo.”
She turned and left.
As Seraphina entered the Clothing Shop, the neatly bound ribbon in her hair bobbed gently with each step.
“Scoop, scoop! It’s a scoop!”
“Photos of the Magic Saint have been released!”
Newspaper boys thrilled by the exclusive rushed past Seraphina, shoving through the doorway.
The held-up newspaper showed the Magic Saint’s back as she ran across a rooftop against the backdrop of a full moon.
For a moment, the blurry photograph in the boy’s raised newspaper and Seraphina’s profile overlapped.
“Cassian?”
“…….”
“Cassian, what are you doing?”
“Ah, yeah.”
“Why do you look like you’ve been punched?”
It wasn’t until Johann Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park Yeon Strauss III asked that Cassian realized he was wearing such an expression.
After standing there awhile, Cassian suddenly buried his face in Johann Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park Yeon Strauss III’s back.
“Johann Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park Yeon Strauss III.”
“Hmm?”
“This is the first time anyone’s ever tested me.”
But it doesn’t feel bad.
* * *
Meanwhile.
Arden was troubled.
‘Do I have some kind of sharp intuition that only activates around the Magic Saint?’
Just as it had happened at Ingrid’s mansion last time, and now at this—what was the reporter’s name again, Reggie’s townhouse.
‘And today, when I was merely passing through on my way to the Imperial Palace, I encountered the Magic Saint again.’
At this rate, wasn’t it some kind of divine sign?
The Magic Saint’s startled expression, which he’d glimpsed for only a moment but seen clearly. The loud hammer she held in her hand.
“So, Arden.”
That skirt that violates public decorum.
As crown prince, capturing this person who goes about dressed like that and thereby contributing to the Empire’s public morals—surely that was a divine calling.
“That play you saw at Opera Cernié — ‘Lingering: The Final Rite’ — what’s it about? Something about spirits inhabiting objects, right?”
Before that skirt could become fashionable, she needed to catch the Magic Saint quickly…
“What I mean is, the more you buy, the higher your odds of getting something possessed. You need to reduce consumption. Buying fifty handkerchiefs a day like that — it has to stop. You never know which one might be haunted… Arden?”
Huh!
“Arden!”
Clap!
Seraphina clapped her hands right in front of Arden’s face.
Only then did Arden snap back to attention, his eyes blinking.
“What were you thinking so hard about?”
Are you already possessed?
He looked down at his senior with a blank stare, uncertain what she meant.
A measuring tape hung across her shoulders — she must have just finished taking measurements. Her small, pale hands bore what looked to him like two thousand prick marks from sewing pins.
In truth, there were only two, but to Arden’s eyes, it might as well have been two thousand.
Two thousand!
…….
Now that he thought about it, a newspaper had run a photo of the Magic Saint’s back today, and it was all anyone could talk about.
Lately, whenever people gathered, the Magic Saint was the only topic of conversation.
At first, people had been appalled by the strange costume, but as the Magic Saint’s popularity soared, they’d begun subtly hinting at a desire to try wearing such an outfit themselves.
It meant Arden’s concern — that this peculiar garment might become fashionable — was no mere paranoia.
…….
“Arden?”
“Senior.”
“Yes?”
“If a completely new style of clothing were to become fashionable — something entirely different from what we have now — what would the Clothing Shop do?”
“Well, I suppose all of us would work through the night to design and produce garments following the new trend.”
“That would keep us busy, then?”
“Certainly. We’d have a flood of customers.”
“Would they raise our wages?”
“Not a chance.”
…….
Those prick marks on his small, pale hands.
Two thousand.
Or maybe, looking closer, two thousand and one.
Slowly, Arden opened his mouth.
“The Magic Saint.”
“Huh? What?”
“I’m going to catch her.”
It absolutely had nothing to do with those prick marks constantly catching his eye.
Not at all.
‘If the Clothing Shop gets busier, there’s a higher chance of colliding with unhygienic strangers when coming to buy handkerchiefs.’
When work is hectic, there’s no time to clean the room either.
‘This senior’s already living in a pigsty.’
Besides.
He was someone who possessed Sharp Intuition specifically regarding the Magic Saint.
“Yes. I’m going to catch her.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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