Chapter 22
In front of an abandoned factory in the slums stood an old and shabby tent.
Inside this makeshift space was the inaugural board meeting of Karma Company,
established just three hours ago, following its corporate registration.
The atmosphere among the people gathered inside the tent was nothing short of
solemn.
Olivier Karma, Jonathan Karma’s wife, was appointed as Chief Financial
Officer.
Cecilia Karma, Jonathan Karma’s daughter, was named Chief Operating Officer.
As for the CEO position, it naturally went to Jonathan Karma himself.
Other positions were also swiftly assigned by Jonathan, each decision made
without hesitation.
Normally, determining roles in an organization is one of the trickiest tasks,
but Jonathan handled it effortlessly. After all, everyone present here had
once worked under him when he managed a distribution company. They were all
seasoned veterans in the industry.
“I’ll make it clear here and now,” Jonathan declared.
The old table in the tent creaked as he pounded it with his hand for emphasis.
“I’ve secured 50,000 Saleds in startup capital from the Lilia Order. And as we
speak, I’m pulling in more funds. If necessary, I can bring in even larger
sums. Outside, we have a passionate labor force ready to work, and in our
hands lies the elixir—a business venture destined to succeed! Failing under
these conditions is nothing short of absurd.”
Jonathan’s face no longer resembled that of a frail, bitter middle-aged man.
Instead, he exuded the charisma of a seasoned veteran, a battle-hardened
businessman who had seen it all.
“I swore to the Saint of Healing, who saved my daughter and family, that I
would make the Lilia Order the wealthiest in the empire! So, let’s do what we
do best. Let’s sell that blue gold and pile up mountains of wealth! I’ll
ensure the Saint never faces hardship because of money! I’ll spread their
grace far and wide, and I’ll make sure I contribute to that cause!”
The people surrounding Jonathan—his family and his former colleagues—watched
him with awe.
These individuals had witnessed, more closely than anyone else, how Cecilia’s
rot disease had crushed Jonathan’s family. Despite pouring his considerable
wealth into curing her, she had remained incurable.
Yet now, Cecilia stood there, transformed into a beautiful and confident
woman, holding an executive role in their company.
And as for Jonathan Karma, it was as if he had become a completely different
person, radiating passion and determination.
If this wasn’t a miracle, what else could it be?
“Now! Let’s get moving! Let’s earn and earn and earn some more! We just need
to do what we’re good at. Mirda, secure deals! Toby, arrange for large
transport trucks and train usage for the elixir! Cecilia, bring in the
technology from the Magic Tower! Find a magician skilled in elixir refinement.
At the very least, negotiate a technology-sharing agreement!”
“Yes, sir!”
Everyone dispersed from the tent, rushing off to their respective tasks. Their
faces were bright with enthusiasm.
After all, a business idea guaranteed to succeed was now in the hands of a
seasoned entrepreneur.
But Jonathan Karma had his sights set on something even grander.
The elixir was just the beginning. To make the Lilia Order the wealthiest in
the empire, they would need even larger ventures. Jonathan planned to expand
the elixir business as the core and then branch out into multiple industries,
creating a sprawling corporate empire.
And that empire would be handed to the Saint of Healing.
That was Jonathan Karma’s ultimate ambition.
Two months passed in the blink of an eye.
To be honest, it had been a comfortable and enjoyable time for me.
Though the solitary cell was small, I treasured the peaceful moments to read,
eat, sleep, and exercise without fear of divine punishment or being burned at
the stake.
This… this was what a peaceful life felt like.
How could anyone call me a saint?
Me? A saint? A cowardly, selfish person like me?
I just wanted to live here for a year and then get out.
“It’s today, Jericho Amael.”
After finishing a simple yet delicious breakfast and doing some exercises, a
guard came to fetch me.
Finally, the day had arrived!
Today, I was going to spill everything.
I’d tell them I’m not a saint, just a pathetic youngest member of a prophet
family with zero divine power.
Sure, I saved a lot of people, but that doesn’t make me a saint. Please, just
give me a fair sentence of one year in this underground prison, and let’s call
it a day.
With cuffs on my wrists, I followed the clergy of the Silent Order, a happy
smile on my face.
After walking for what felt like an eternity, I entered a massive circular
dome.
At least 100 people were present, all encircling the space.
And in the center stood the defendant’s podium where I was supposed to stand.
Hmm…
How should I describe this?
It reminded me of the British Parliament I’d seen on the news.
“Saint! Saint!”
“Healing Saint! We are here for you!”
As soon as I stepped onto the podium, a group of people cried out upon seeing
me.
I saw priests from the Lilia Order and people from the slums among them.
I smiled at them.
Yes.
This is the end.
After today, I won’t be a saint anymore.
I’m sorry for letting you stay misled and confused all this time.
When you finally learn the truth about me today, you might feel disappointed.
But what can I do?
I have no desire to incur divine punishment by falsely claiming to be the
Saint of the Goddess.
So even if I’ve deceived you to some extent, I hope you can understand.
After all, I’ve treated so many of you, haven’t I?
Even if it’s revealed that I’m not a saint, at the very least, you won’t try
to kill me or burn me at the stake, right?
The Goddess knows I’ve done some good, so if I step down as the saint now, it
won’t be a false claim anymore.
Surely, she’ll let it slide.
That’s what I think, anyway.
See? This is why people should strive to do good deeds regularly!
This situation is exactly as I hoped: the perfect environment to cleanly walk
away from being a saint without facing a fiery death or divine punishment.
Today, I will definitely be convicted for falsely claiming to be the saint.
“Have the representatives of the 24 orders of the Pantheon gathered?”
As I stepped into the defendant’s podium, a priest dressed in black shouted
loudly from the judge’s seat in front of me.
In response, some of the people seated in the audience rose to their feet.
“All the apostles of the gods of the Pantheon are present!”
“Have the noble representatives of the Senate gathered?”
Another group of people stood up.
“All representatives of humanity’s glory are here!”
“Have the judges of the Supreme Court gathered?”
Yet another group stood.
“All who pass judgment on humanity are present!”
“Have those who walk the path of magic gathered?”
This time, the wizards and witches stood.
“All those who walk the path of magic are here!”
Among the witches and wizards, I spotted two familiar figures: Tuidel, the
witch who had accused me, and Erfa, the four-armed witch.
Both of their gazes were fixed on me, sharp and unwavering.
“Then we shall begin! Today, we are here to judge one thing: whether the man
standing before us is truly the Saint sent by the Goddess of Grace, Lilia, or
if he is a heretic who falsely claimed the title. All be seated!”
Those who had risen sat back down in unison, and an icy silence filled the
courtroom.
The judge on the bench looked down at me with an expressionless face.
I swallowed nervously and met his gaze.
“Jericho Amael.”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Let me ask you first: are you truly the Apostle of the Goddess of Grace?”
Finally!!
The moment I’d been waiting for had arrived!
I closed my eyes, a smile spreading across my face.
Goodbye at last, to the title of Saint that never suited me.
“I am not the Apostle sent by the Goddess of Grace, Your Honor. I am not a
saint.”
Murmurs immediately began to ripple through the courtroom.
But what did it matter? I had decided to reveal everything today.
“So, are you admitting that you falsely claimed to be the Saint of Grace?”
“I never once declared with my own mouth that I was the Apostle of Grace. I
simply treated people. At some point, those around me began calling me a
saint. While I didn’t claim the title intentionally… yes, if that counts as
false representation, then so be it.”
I nodded without hesitation.
The murmurs grew louder, but I had nothing to hide.
“I am far too weak, insignificant, and foolish to be called a saint.”
Honestly, compared to the reincarnated protagonists in other novels or anime,
I was utterly useless.
Was I good at fighting? No.
Did I have some amazing reincarnation skill? Nope.
Was I exceptionally intelligent? Not even close.
I was just an ordinary human, nothing more.
“Why, then, did you treat people if you were not a Saint of the Goddess?”
The judge’s question made me glance at the witches.
More specifically, I looked at Erfa, the four-armed witch.
Hmm.
If I said, “That one over there is a total scumbag! I clearly saw in my dream
that she tried to burn the empire to the ground!”…
It might emotionally destabilize that walking nuke of a witch and cause her to
explode.
Sure, she seemed more mentally stable now, but why take the risk?
So I decided to give a vague answer, one that wasn’t entirely true but wasn’t
a lie either.
“They were pitiful.”
“Pitiful?”
“I saw children abandoned on the streets, unable to receive proper treatment.
I saw the poor, waiting to die each day without hope. I saw a family broken by
the incurable disease of their daughter. They were pitiful, so I treated
them.”
Every word was true.
Yes, I had treated that nuke of a witch to save myself. But it was also true
that I wanted to heal the many pitiful people I’d encountered.
Their suffering had been heart-wrenching to witness.
Still, that didn’t mean I wanted to be roasted alive for my efforts.
So today marked the end of my time pretending to be a saint.
“That’s All There Is?”
“Yes. Even now, I don’t understand why I came to be called the Saint of the
Goddess of Grace. I was simply acting on instinct. I am not a saint. I am
nothing more than a foolish, ordinary person who happened to acquire the
ability to heal people by chance.”
Finally, I looked at the people from the Lilia Order.
Some of the priests seemed so deeply shocked that they had collapsed to their
knees, staring at me in a daze. Among them, the High Priest Yodel had tears
brimming in his eyes.
Yeah, I get it.
It must have been a huge shock.
But what can I do?
This is the truth.
“I have no holy stigmata on my body. I have never heard the voice of the
Goddess Lilia. I have never read even a single line from the Holy Scriptures
of Grace. I am nothing more than an ordinary human with no connection to the
Goddess.”
Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly.
“Let me say it one last time: I am not a saint. I am merely someone who healed
the sick and weak. Therefore, Your Honor, please make a wise judgment.”
With that, I finished speaking.
The judge seated at the podium exchanged a few quiet words with some priests
of the Silent Order. Meanwhile, the crowd around me continued to murmur and
gaze at me.
The members of the Lilia Order were all crying, every single one of them.
A bittersweet yet relieved smile crept across my lips.
Yeah.
This is how it should be.
This is the truth.
It might be shocking now, but they’ll forget over time.
Even though I didn’t intend to deceive them, I’m sorry for misleading you all.
Now, this is goodbye... forever.
“Jericho Amael.”
The judge looked at me with a faint smile.
“Congratulations on passing the first trial.”
The moment his words dropped, the priests of the Lilia Order erupted in a
deafening cheer.
“He has denied his divinity! Ah, Saint! Saint!”
“Just as the scriptures foretold, he comes with a pure body!”
“Unknowing and glorious! Saint! Saint!”
Their fervent voices were louder and more impassioned than anything I’d heard
before.
They looked like the very definition of fanatics.
Wait… what is this?
What’s going on?
I just said I’m not a saint.
Didn’t I make that perfectly clear?!
Then why are you calling me a saint?!

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