{The one chosen by the goddess shall arrive in the purest form.

Without any stigmata or divine signs, they shall be pure, utterly pure.

This signifies that the grace of the goddess spares no one, and her chosen understands this.

You shall recognize the chosen not by marks, but by their surroundings:

The laughter of children and the screams of the wicked shall be their signs.

— Scripture of Grace, Chapter 32, Verse 17

“Ahhhh!! Aah! …Saint! Saint!”

At the grimy entrance of a sewer, surrounded by a floor covered in all manner of filth, priests and holy knights clad in pristine white robes were bowing deeply toward me.

I just blinked.

What is happening right now?

Wait, didn’t you all just say there’s no stigmata?

Then why are you acting like this all of a sudden?

“Could someone please give me some clothes to wear?”

I need to cover myself first. Honestly, it wasn’t until I looked down that I noticed just how filthy my clothes were.

At my words, the priests and knights scrambled into action.

“Please wear this!”

An elderly bald man, whom everyone referred to as the High Priest, tearfully offered me a set of dazzlingly white ceremonial robes of the Lilia faith.

And so, surrounded by their expectant gazes, I had to endure the mortifying ordeal of changing clothes in front of them.

Even after I’d changed, their looks of awe and reverence didn’t waver.

Please, I beg you, stop staring at me like that!

A guy like me can’t handle this kind of attention—it’s suffocating!

“Please take care of the children. They are poor, pitiful little ones.”

“Of course! Of course! Saint! We shall care for them!”

After handing over fifteen young girls to the priests of the Lilia Order, an awkward silence settled between us.

“Guuuaaagh!! Aaaaaagh! Uuughhhh!!”

The agonized screams of the thug who’d tried to rob me earlier filled the alley.

“The laughter of children and the screams of the wicked… It’s just as the scripture foretold!”

“Saint! Saint! What should we do now? Lead us, your lowly servants!”

The knights and priests, especially the bald High Priest, were looking at me with tears of joy streaming down their faces.

This is too much.

At least I won’t get burned at the stake, so… this is kind of a win, right?

Fine. Since it’s come to this, maybe I should just play along as the saint and live my life this way. I can even charge a small fee for healing.

Yeah, that doesn’t sound bad.

If I start charging for treatments, I could become filthy rich in no time.

I was entertaining these thoughts when the High Priest cautiously approached and clasped my hands tightly.

“Glory be to the Goddess of Grace! Lilia watches over us! Saint, speak your will, and we shall listen and obey.”

The Goddess of Grace watching over us? Yeah, right.

I don’t even believe in her.

As these thoughts passed through my mind, a chilling realization struck me.

I’m someone without faith.

And here I am, pretending to be the saint sent by the goddess.

These people mistakenly believe I’m a saint, so I’ve dodged a fiery death for now.

But what about her?

Lilia—the Goddess of Grace herself.

In this world, gods aren’t just abstract concepts. They’re real, living entities who grant miracles and divine power to their believers.

A being who knows everything, including my thoughts and past actions, wouldn’t be fooled.

She must already see right through me.

I felt the blood drain from my body.

I’ve made a terrible mistake.

This isn’t the time to be fantasizing about making money while playing the saint.

I could actually be struck by lightning—literally fried alive.

I need to run.

I have to shake these people off and disappear, living quietly as if I’m already dead.

But then, there’s that miracle of tracking or whatever they mentioned…

What if they use that to find me even if I escape?

And here’s another problem I just realized:

Even if I use my Time Stop ability to flee, I won’t get far.

I can only walk while time is frozen, and the mental toll is so extreme that the skill doesn’t last long.

Even if I managed to escape far away, judging by the fanatical devotion of these people, they’d chase me to the ends of the earth.

And as long as they keep worshipping me as a saint, the goddess’s wrath will surely continue to follow me.

So, what’s the solution?

I need to make the Lilia Order give up on me.

I have to get them to leave me alone—completely.

But how do I do that without being accused of heresy and burned alive?

Wait.

An idea popped into my head.

You know those corrupt, incompetent priests that always show up in novels or anime?

The kind with a bulging belly, gorging on women and meat, who screams, “You blasphemer!”

while burning people at the stake, only to get taken down by the protagonist in the end?

I’ll become one of those guys!

If I act like a greedy, useless priest, they’ll all be so disappointed that even if I disappear, they won’t come looking for me.

Of course, I can’t cross the line into being truly evil.

You know, like that one character who’s annoying and keeps messing things up, but deep down, they’re not a bad person.

The kind you want to strangle, but when they’re gone, you think, “Well, at least they had some redeeming qualities.”

I’ll toe that fine line, drive everyone away, then quietly vanish and quit being a saint.

Yes! This is the only way!

“Take me to the temple,” I declared after a minute of frantic internal debate.

My plan was to go to the temple and squander all the money they had saved up.

I’d spend the donations, live a life of indulgence, and make them so disgusted with me that they’d all leave while cursing my name.

“Forgive us, Saint. The Lilia Order is based in the southern regions, not the capital. We do not yet have a branch of the temple here.”

Ah, right.

Now that I think about it, if there were a temple in the capital, there would’ve been no reason for them to take days to get here.

How could I forget that? My brain must’ve been on vacation for a moment.

So, what now...?

Wait, there is a way.

“Why do you say there’s no temple? Follow me.”

If there’s no temple, we’ll just buy some useless plot of land at an outrageously high price and build one!

Then, I’ll set up a temple, live comfortably off its resources, and work just hard enough not to get burned at the stake or struck down by divine punishment.

I’ll make sure all of you spit in disgust and walk away eventually!

With the members of the Lilia Order and the Sun Order’s holy knights trailing behind, I led the way out of the stinking sewer.

“Saint! Saint!”

“Lead us, O Blessed One!”

Behind me, the Lilia followers beamed with expectation.

The more I thought about it, the more a cold sweat trickled down my back.

The Blessed Lilia is probably watching all of this in real-time from the heavens, right?

If I want to survive, I need to find a way to make these people abandon me.

That’s the only way to avoid divine retribution from the goddess.

When Erfa reentered the Mage Tower, this time accompanied by priests from the White Order, the wizards and witches inside froze.

Some avoided her gaze entirely, while others forced awkward smiles.

Erfa, however, paid no attention to the stares and headed straight for the top floor—the office of the Tower Master.

“E-Erfa?”

orgen, the Tower Master, stood up in shock as she entered.

But Erfa appeared utterly indifferent to his reaction.

“Please, speak,” she said.

At her words, the White Order priests stepped forward cautiously and bowed their heads to orgen.

“By the Saint of Healing’s miracle, she has been completely restored. She is no longer an abomination. She is living proof of a miracle.”

“We will no longer pursue Erfa in the name of the White Order. We humbly ask for your forgiveness for the confusion we caused.”

orgen stared at them blankly before nodding.

“I’m relieved to hear this.”

“Erfa said she has something to discuss with you. We will take our leave now. If permitted, we would like to attend tomorrow’s regular academic meeting.”

“Of course.”

And with that, the conflict between the White Order and the Mage Tower was resolved.

After repeatedly expressing their gratitude, the priests exited, leaving the door closed behind them.

Now, only orgen and Erfa remained in the room.

“You’ve become beautiful,” orgen said hesitantly after a long pause.

Erfa didn’t smile at his words.

But neither did she cry or lash out in anger.

Her expression was one of serene calm, as if she had transcended it all.

“Tower Master,” she began.

“Yes, Erfa. Speak.”

“Am I still a witch of this Mage Tower?”

orgen nodded.

“If that’s what you wish.”

“Good. I want to continue my research here.”

“If that’s what you desire, then so be it.”

“And one more thing. At tomorrow’s academic meeting, I’d like you to officially name me as the next Tower Master.”

orgen’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You?”

“You’ve never officially announced it, but weren’t you planning to name me anyway? Or were the countless rumors just baseless gossip?”

orgen shook his head.

“They weren’t gossip. In truth, there was no one else. You were the only one I considered fit to succeed me.”

“Then there shouldn’t be any problem naming me as the next Tower Master, correct?”

“Correct. I can do that. But I am concerned. There are countless wizards and witches here who once cast you aside. As the next Tower Master, you must embrace them all. If you intend to use your position to settle personal grudges, I cannot name you my successor.”’

“Tower Master.”

Erfa’s expression remained astonishingly composed.

“I aim to further my career. I will turn the Mars Branch of the Mage Tower into the greatest among all Mage Towers.”

Her tone was firm, her demeanor resolute.

“I won’t let petty personal grudges derail my goals. I want to become a witch whose name will go down in magical history. Revenge is too insignificant to even consider compared to that ambition.”

Her gaze was unwaveringly calm.

It wasn’t just her expression—her mana emanated with an unparalleled tranquility, perfectly refined.

orgen felt an unfamiliar sensation.

She wasn’t just outwardly changed; it was as if she were an entirely different person.

“Erfa, what happened to you? What did the Saint of Healing do to you?”

At orgen’s question, Erfa gave a radiant smile.

It was a smile free of shadows, anger, or hatred.

“They healed my body and my heart. They gave me a purpose in life: to help them and stand by their side. To achieve that, I will love myself. I’ll dedicate myself to my career, without faltering or breaking.”

Her dazzling smile made orgen smile along with her, almost involuntarily.

“Understood. I’ll do as you wish. Your tricolor research was groundbreaking. Naming you the next Tower Master will be no issue.”

“Thank you, Tower Master. Oh, and…”

Her robe had four sleeve openings. The lower two were empty.

But as orgen watched, two new arms grew from the empty sleeves, a feat of advanced body modification magic.

“Being without my arms was too inconvenient. It’s helpful to have extra hands for research and writing.”

Erfa calmly folded her four arms.

“Will you be alright? People may hurl insults at you again.”

“It doesn’t matter what others say anymore. I’ve been acknowledged by them. I’m no longer ashamed of these four arms.”

“...”

“I’ll take my leave now, Tower Master. See you tomorrow.”

After a polite bow, Erfa exited the room.

orgen sat in silence for a moment, then chuckled to himself.

“The Saint of Healing, huh…”

orgen, who had spent his life dismissing religion and faith as foolishness, found himself thinking, for the first time, that perhaps faith had a place in this world.

“Lilia Order, was it? I should pay them a visit.”

orgen murmured softly, unable to suppress his growing curiosity.