WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 25: The Saintess and the Woodcutter (3)
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“The department head's office isn't an infirmary.”
The Saintess had said something strange. Ivan tilted his head.
The infirmary only smeared healing potion on external injuries, or at best had a priest who had only just been ordained cast Heal. Was she saying the students had to suffer through that horrible experience when there was a Saintess right here?
Seeing his expression, the Saintess thumped her chest in frustration. Ivan did not deliberately look away despite the vigorous motion. She was a religious figure, after all.
“No! I have work to do too! Do you know how busy I am? This is my first year in the position! There hasn't even been a proper handover, freshmen, undergraduates, and professors keep coming in to chatter at me, and there isn't a single curriculum plan in place! What's wrong with this university?”
“Mm.”
“Mm.”
Ivan and Enrika nodded together as they watched the Saintess condemn the primitive, premodern education system.
They had nothing helpful to say, but they had to agree with her.
Ivan ignored the poor religious figure who was diligently despairing over her circumstances. The department head's office had an antique charm.
He did not know whether it reflected the previous department head's taste or the Saintess's, but there were an awful lot of plants.
An orchid...? Was it an orchid? Ivan, who knew little about plants, passed the time by gently stroking the elegant leaves spilling lavishly from one flowerpot. He was a gardener, after all.
Snap.
One of the orchid's leaves broke off with a crisp little sound. It happened to be the thickest, finest stem, making it all the more cheerfully destructive.
Without changing expression, Ivan looked away. Fortunately, the Saintess did not seem to have noticed. She was still furiously lecturing Enrika about classes.
Was it New World? He thought there had been a similar scene in that noir film. Keeping a blank face, he turned the flowerpot. It silently changed direction, concealing the broken leaf.
“Fine, I know it's hard, Patty. I know. So could you turn off the light already? I was wrong.”
“Why not take this opportunity to convert? I will always welcome you with an open heart, Enrika.”
“That sounds less like conversion and more like being called home...”
The Saintess was the person closest to heaven in this world. Excluding the Pope, that was.
In other words, the divine power pouring out with her emotions was crushing Enrika in real time. Ivan could not tell if it was his imagination, but Enrika seemed a little smaller than before.
Enrika cautiously spoke up.
“Um. Ah, right. Patty, you know. Don't be surprised when you hear this. I came here to tell you, but I forgot. Look at the state of my mind.”
“Please tell me it is less surprising than fifty critically ill freshmen.”
Enrika making a fuss was nothing new, so the Saintess gently lifted her teacup. Her throat was dry after her passionate speech.
With a soft chuckle, Enrika opened her mouth.
“This guy was actually dragged here.”
“Yes, I was already thinking of going to find Elise when I heard the orphanage director had suddenly become a gardener. What was she thinking, making a retiree do that?”
“No, you fool. Brought here. Like Max. From another world.”
“Pfft?!”
The Saintess sprayed tea as she coughed, tears gathering in her eyes. She continued coughing for a while before finally managing to straighten herself.
“Why didn't you tell me sooner...?”
“He thought he was the only one. Does he look like someone who'd go get counseling?”
“Good heavens...”
The Saintess swallowed as she looked at Ivan. Then she spoke in a trembling voice.
“How lonely you must have been... You grew that beard because of the shock... Brother Kirilts...”
“No. That wasn't why.”
“It's all right. Everything is all right...”
Smiling benevolently, the Saintess warmly clasped Ivan's hand. Divine power spread gently from her, flowing through his veins. It was warm.
Even as Enrika recoiled and backed far away across the sofa, the Saintess continued to gaze at Ivan with a warm smile.
“It is all right, Brother... You are not strange. There have been many people like you, and there will be more. Oh Lord, guide this poor lamb...”
“This situation feels strange and awkward to me.”
“That is understandable. It truly is... The Hero was the same...”
She remembered the day she had nearly cried upon hearing that he had retired to run an orphanage.
Despite the horrific war he had endured since childhood, this poor young man had grown into someone so steadfast, someone kind enough to embrace unfortunate children.
Was that not proof of the Lord's presence?
The Saintess had gladly supported Ivan's retirement and sent a considerable donation every year. She had even named the orphanage herself!
And now, look at Ivan.
Orphanages were poor by nature. Insufficient support funding was part of the problem, but so were the wicked directors who tried to make money off orphans.
This was a world where several cases were reported every year of directors pocketing generous donations, then selling off the children they had raised in the back alleys.
Yet this man... He wore filthy work clothes, wiped his sweat with an old towel, and diligently earned an honest living.
Clearly, it was to give the children a more prosperous life.
“Ah...”
He was even from another world? Yet he had taken in the orphans of this world, children from a foreign realm with whom he had no connection at all...?
How kind...
The Saintess's eyes reddened.
“Brother Kirilts...”
“I would prefer you not call me that.”
“I like your baptismal name, Brother.”
“I was too young when it was chosen.”
Ivan pulled his hand free, glaring at the amused-looking Enrika. The Saintess naturally made the sign of the cross and placed a hand over her chest.
“I had thought without a doubt that you were homosexual.”
“Cough...!”
Enrika choked and pounded her chest.
“Considering all the people you rejected so coldly, how could I not?”
“...There were circumstances.”
“Of course. Of course.”
A Royal Guard was not meant to become privately close with nobles or influential figures.
Back when he was known as Little Ivan, when his value on the marriage market had shot straight up, he had also happened to be a Royal Guard.
Besides, his goal had been to return to Earth. How could he indulge in romance?
That had not changed much even now. If anything had changed, it was that he was no longer a highly sought-after prospect.
“It was because of your vows, wasn't it? A brother as devout as you must have been bound by the vows you made at baptism...”
The three evangelical counsels he had vowed at baptism: poverty, chastity, and obedience.
Ivan's appearance was the very picture of poverty. He had passed thirty without even a hint of a romantic scandal, making him the image of chastity. He had surrendered all honor and position to return to a quiet life, making him the image of obedience.
Such devotion, like something from a painting... The Saintess nodded.
“Do not become a priest. Then you really will be unable to marry.”
“...Mm.”
“But if you continue to live so chastely, perhaps... perhaps the Lord may yet grant you favor. The Lord embraces us with love, and love between people is the greatest blessing beneath the sky.”
“...Mm...”
“I must visit your orphanage today. It is almost time to leave work, so let us go together.”
“You said you hadn't finished your work.”
“There is no one at this school above me except the president, and beneath this sky, there is only the Lord God above me, Enrika.”
“Wow.”
Enrika quietly accepted that.
* * *
The Saintess made him uncomfortable. Ivan realized this obvious fact once again.
There were many reasons. Perhaps because she had grown up on the battlefield, the Saintess was overly emotional, seriously devout, and even in her neat attire, he sometimes had to manage where he looked. Naturally, Ivan was a sensible person, so he had no interest in a priest's body.
The biggest reason, though, was that she and Elizaveta were the orphanage's two greatest patrons.
A person could never have an equal relationship with someone who controlled the purse strings. Following that logic, Ivan always kept an appropriate distance from the orphanage's sponsors.
“Ah... Lord. Look upon this beautiful sight...”
The Saintess had been weeping from the moment they entered the orphanage. Naturally, the residents had gathered around them, squealing.
Their faces were lively, their cheeks plump. There was not a trace of poverty anywhere. The poorest-looking person in the orphanage was Ivan himself...!
The facilities were excellent, and every door opened smoothly on clean, well-oiled hinges. Soft padding had even been carefully placed at the ends of hallways and on furniture corners.
Such meticulous care...!
With tears in her eyes, the Saintess stared at a large doodle drawn in one corner of the orphanage building.
It had apparently been drawn by a mischievous resident. The doodle showed a bearded odd man scowling as he handed out gifts...
The children's affection was so plainly apparent that the Saintess finally pressed at the corners of her eyes and leaned against the wall.
“You have already become a fine father...”
“Oh, for heaven's sake.”
“The finest relationships are those born from the heart... Brother Kirilts... This is too dazzling... Oh Lord...”
“You must be trying to kill me with laughter, disciple. I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. Can I go first?”
“No.”
Enrika clutched her forehead in agony.
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Footnotes:
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