The Saintess Is Too Good at Lying - Chapter 52

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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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The Saint Is Such a Good Liar! Episode 052
The wheelchair drew near the Reception Room. Since nothing blocked the space around it, I could hear the conversation clearly as I approached.
“The Saint is the identity and very heart of the Grand Cathedral. We cannot allow her to remain elsewhere any longer.”
“But her legs haven’t even fully healed yet. You can’t just summon a patient back and forth like that.”
From my vantage point, I could only see Sergio’s face. He continued speaking with an air of supreme arrogance.
“If Your Grace truly cared for my sister, it would be best if you simply departed now.”
“The fasting prayer has concluded, Duke. I have come to treat the Saint.”
What? Why was he only mentioning something so important now? Sergio’s expression became one of utter bewilderment, clearly sharing my sentiment.
“You should have said so immediately.”
“Indeed. I had no idea the Duke would refuse to return the Saint so readily.”
….
Sergio stared at Formoso in silence, his demeanor distinctly displeased.
The sound of the wheelchair rolling broke through the silence. Both men turned to look at me simultaneously.
“It has been quite some time, Archbishop.”
The fasting prayer had taken its toll—my already slender frame had grown even more gaunt. When Formoso’s eyes met mine, they flickered with a faint tremor.
“…Yes. It has indeed been a while, Saint. I apologize for arriving so late to collect you.”
“Not at all. I was just about to return to the Grand Cathedral anyway.”
At those words, Sergio’s brow furrowed as he looked at me, and I found myself laughing at the sight of his eyes—they seemed almost resentful.
“Where would you prefer to receive treatment?”
“It is important that the Saint be in a comfortable place, so it would be best to go to your room.”
“Let’s just do it here, Archbishop. Going all the way upstairs seems like it would be too much strain for Justitia.”
Sergio interjected with a displeased tone.
He had a point—going up and down the stairs did sound tedious.
“That would be preferable.”
“If that is the Saint’s wish….”
Formoso turned to address Sergio.
“You may depart now, Duke.”
Sergio’s expression shifted to one of shock.
“Is there some reason I cannot remain here?”
“Not at all. I am merely saying there is no need for you to stay any longer.”
“No, I will be staying.”
Sergio crossed his arms defiantly.
“I’m curious. I’ve never seen someone healed with sacred power before.”
“Is that so? It seems the Saint has never bestowed her sacred power upon the Duke.”
….
At those words, Sergio’s voice caught in his throat.
And for good reason—Sergio had always been extremely reluctant to borrow Justitia’s sacred power, even when injured or wounded.
His reasoning was that being healed by sacred power rather than medicine felt strange to him….
‘He must have thought it was because Justitia disliked him.’
That was probably the truth.
“My brother found holy healing rather uncomfortable, you see.”
As I interjected with those words, Formoso’s expression shifted into mild surprise. Well, perhaps it was presumptuous of me to speak so candidly to the Archbishop.
“Then this would be an excellent opportunity for him to witness it firsthand.”
Formoso turned to face me directly, then placed his hand upon my injured leg. Given the approaching summer, I had worn a rather thin dress, and I could feel the warmth of his fingers against my skin with startling clarity.
Soon after, a pristine white light emanated from Formoso’s palm, enveloping my damaged leg. The sensation of fractured bone knitting itself together felt peculiarly strange.
Moments later, Formoso exhaled softly and withdrew his hand.
“How does it feel?”
“It seems completely healed.”
Seized by wonder, I rose from my seat, only to feel my legs suddenly give way beneath me. I stumbled, but Formoso quickly moved to my side and steadied me.
“Are you quite alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
I gently withdrew my hand from his as I spoke.
“It’s simply been so long since I’ve stood.”
“You mustn’t strain yourself. Allow me to support you.”
“That won’t be necessary. I couldn’t possibly impose such a burden upon the Archbishop.”
“A burden? It is only my duty as a servant to the Saint.”
Formoso spoke with a wounded expression, and suddenly Cassandro’s words from earlier overlapped in my mind.
Both professed their loyalty to me, yet why did their words carry such different weight?
‘Because one speaks loyalty only with his lips while striking me from behind.’
I let out a quiet laugh.
“I appreciate your concern, but I have Lord Cassandro with me.”
Formoso’s expression became oddly complex. Cassandro approached at precisely the right moment.
“I shall attend to you.”
I nodded and extended my arm to him. With his support, I finally stepped outside the Cassini Mansion.
The air felt remarkably fresher as I felt solid ground beneath my feet once more.
After boarding the carriage and settling into the sofa, Formoso suddenly followed me inside. What was he doing?
“Don’t you have your own carriage?”
“This is my first use of holy power since my fasting prayer.”
Formoso calmly took the seat across from me and continued speaking.
“I thought it best to observe whether any complications might arise.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I have my maid with me.”
“My presence would allow for immediate intervention should any problem occur.”
He certainly knew how to talk. I had no desire to continue this verbal sparring, so I turned my gaze toward the window.
As the carriage began to move, I suddenly noticed something odd.
“Now that I think about it, how did you complete your fasting prayer so quickly? Hasn’t it only been about two weeks?”
The fasting prayers of the Barion Faith had no fixed duration—they were undertaken voluntarily.
Even so, abandoning a fasting prayer once begun was considered spiritually improper.
Yet an unexpected answer came from Formoso’s lips.
“A divine revelation descended upon me.”
“A divine revelation?”
The oracle was how the Barion Faith conveyed its will to the world through the Archbishop as a conduit.
It wasn’t rare enough to occur only once every hundred years, but it was certainly not common either.
“Is there some crisis befalling Scalia, Your Eminence? Or perhaps….”
“It’s nothing so grave, so please don’t be concerned.”
Formoso’s lips curled slightly upward before his voice took on a solemn tone.
“Do not be blinded by greed before your eyes and invite your own ruin.”
“A proverb, then.”
Fittingly cryptic for an oracle. Why had such a message suddenly descended? Was it telling me not to fixate solely on the gauge before me? What nonsense.
I stared intently at the empty air, hoping my status window might offer some clarification, but it only displayed the gauge’s current state and nothing more occurred.
[Current Gauge: 49.8%]
I let out a soft laugh.
“Why do you smile, Your Grace?”
Now that I thought about it—I was about to fill the gauge to 50%, wasn’t I? I’d be leaving this place soon enough.
Even if I did invite ruin, I’d do it after getting home. How delightful.
“I simply don’t quite understand. What connection exists between that oracle and Your Eminence abandoning your fasting prayers?”
“Because in my desire to draw closer to the Barion Faith, I turned a blind eye to the Saint’s suffering.”
“That hardly constitutes ruin, does it?”
“Do you not believe so?”
Formoso fixed his gaze upon me and spoke.
“Without the Saint and myself, without the Barion Faith, we are nothing. Thus our relationship is symbiotic in nature.”
Symbiotic my foot. So when Justitia died, did he follow shortly after?
‘How absurd. No matter how I consider it, that doesn’t seem likely.’
I maintained my silence. Formoso observed me quietly, clearly hoping to hear words of gratitude. I would absolutely not oblige.
“During the Saint’s absence, I have deeply regretted my own foolishness.”
Formoso murmured, his voice tinged with remorse.
“I should have delayed the fasting prayer by merely one day.”
…Now that he mentioned it.
“Your Eminence said you have no fasting prayer plans for some time.”
Recalling Clarissa’s words, I opened my mouth.
“Your Eminence, I have a question, if I may.”
“Speak.”
“You mentioned originally having no fasting prayer plans for some time.”
“….”
“Might I inquire what prompted you to decide so suddenly?”
“May I ask why you made such a sudden decision?”

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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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