From a very young age, Faivy had led a life far removed from the concept of play.
Early in the morning, she would offer prayers for herself and the other clergy members. Afterward, she’d study the sacred texts and divine magic, spend her afternoons assisting people in various regions, and in the evening, she’d receive confessions or study further. Before sleep, she prepared for the next day’s prayers. This monotonous, unrelenting cycle left no room for rest—a harsh routine for a child. But Faivy endured it, believing it was the burden she alone had to carry. Chosen by the great god, she felt she had to prove she was worthy of his selection, grinding her way through each day.
But.
But.
Everything that had once supported her was a lie.
On nights when she prayed for dawn not to come, memories of her orphanage comforted her—yet they never existed. The orphanage she longed for had been a place of blood and screams. The serene scenes she once believed in were, in reality, a chilling hell of cold cynicism, lifeless bodies, and dried tears.
Her title as the saintess was also a fabrication. The great god had never chosen anyone as his saintess. The title was a fictional role created by the corrupt members of the church. The burden she bore was not for the god but for those who were steeped in corruption.
Months had passed since learning the truth, but Faivy still let out a bitter laugh each time she thought of it.
To think a person’s entire life could be fabricated so easily and denied just as readily.
Even someone as upright as Faivy found it hard to accept that her life had been nothing but a puppet show orchestrated by others.
What would have become of me if I’d had no one to hold onto then?
If it hadn’t been for her lady...
If the god’s beloved apostle, with her fierce demeanor and warm-hearted core—possessing a will so great it seemed to transcend her small frame—hadn’t been by my side, could I be laughing as I am now?
“Puhaha! You’re really dumb, Lady Dimwit! You got this wrong?”
“Unfair! You tricked me by changing just one letter!”
“Sure~ it’s unfair. It’s not like Dimwit wanted to be dimwitted, right~?”
“Ugh! Ughhh!”
Watching Lucy laugh without restraint and Joy clench her fists in indignation, Faivy shrugged her shoulders with a smile.
What good is imagining things that didn’t happen? It’s far better to focus on the present.
“Joy. Do you really think that’s correct?”
“Isn’t it? Faivy?”
Visit ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience.
“Faivy, don’t give her any hints! Dimwit’s at her cutest when she’s being dimwitted.”
“Cute... No! My lady! At least add ‘Lady’ to the end! Or call me by my name, like you do with Faivy!”
“I’ll consider it if you ever beat my score. Not that a dimwitted dimwit like you has any chance of doing so.”
“Hngh! Seriously!”
Seeing Joy momentarily forget her usual composure as she protested, Faivy couldn’t help but laugh.
Spending time with friends like this... it’s truly a joy.
Had Lady Allen not pulled me out of my room, I never would have experienced this.
If I had stayed in that room, I would’ve fallen deeper into prayer to soothe my growing anxiety until it engulfed me.
Earlier this morning.
Awakened by anxiety, Faivy bit her lip, dreading the cruel truths she’d hear today. She thought she was prepared, but, in truth, she wasn’t prepared at all. She had prayed repeatedly, asking for protection from her insufficiencies, yet the anxiety remained, so she headed to Lucy’s room. She moved toward the warmth of her divine presence, thinking it might ease her fears.
But upon reaching Lucy’s door, she couldn’t bring herself to knock. Thoughts she hadn’t considered held her back.
Would it be rude to visit at such an early hour?
Would she be annoyed if I woke her?
What if I disturbed her morning prayer?
The worries chained together, keeping her from knocking.
Somehow, Lucy had sensed her presence, opening the door and welcoming her with unmatched grace.
Lady Allen would never know.
She’d never know how her mere presence had swept away Faivy’s fears.
Nor would she know how much Faivy had pondered when she’d asked what her wish was.
Or how much joy it had brought Faivy to hear her own name spoken by Lady Allen.
And she’d likely never know how bewildered Faivy felt when she was whisked outside, Lady Allen claiming her reputation alone wouldn’t suffice.
Lady Allen didn’t know how hard Faivy struggled to hold in her laughter as Lucy dragged a barely-awake Joy along.
And she’d never realize just how happy Faivy felt today, her first real day spent playing with friends.
If I asked whether she came out to ease my anxiety, I’m certain Lady Allen would deny it.
She’s so used to giving to others but doesn’t know how to accept kindness.
So, I won’t ask.
Instead, I’ll carry the memory of today in my heart.
I’ll strive to become someone worthy of standing beside her.
And I’ll wait for the day when I can finally repay her.
“My lady! Just watch! I’ll win next time!”
“You’ve been losing all day, so what difference will ‘next time’ make? As long as Dimwit remains dimwitted, that’ll never happen.”
“I-I haven’t lost every time! Faivy won a few rounds too!”
“True, but losing to Lady Allen is still a fact.”
“Faivy, that applies to you as well!”
“Oho~ so Dimwit finds joy in beating someone who’s only just started playing board games? How very noble~”
“Argh! Why doesn’t anyone take my side?!”
After Joy, her face red as a sunset, huffed and stormed off, Lucy turned to Faivy with a mischievous smile.
“Faivy.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Are you ready? I’m worried that shy Faivy might lock herself up.”
“I’ll be fine. Truly.”
No matter what I hear, as long as you’re with me, I’ll be able to smile.
“Acting all confident for a dimwit.”
Lucy led Faivy to a small restaurant in the academy district. The moment they arrived, a server greeted Lucy with a mechanical smile, directing them to an upstairs room.
“Ah, finally. Come in. There’s a mountain of things we need to discuss.”
Inside waited Yohan, a bishop of the church, and Karia, Lucy’s informant.
After the server closed the door, Karia cast a few spells for privacy and scrutinized Faivy’s face with a smirk.
“How much does our saintess know?”
“I...”
“Oh, no need to answer. Just listen. The church’s corruption? You know a bit? That you’re a fabricated saintess? Oh, you know that too? And your own dark past? Oh my, you’re aware of that as well? Impressive.”
The rapid-fire questions left Faivy feeling suffocated. Karia’s cunning gaze, sharp tone, and subtle gestures—when combined, they unsettled even Faivy, who was used to political maneuvering.
“Enough, lady. Jealousy over youth and beauty is a bad look for you.”
“I wasn’t jealous... Whatever. Sorry about that, saintess. Hard life and all; I tend to gauge people.”
“It’s fine. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Oh? Really?”
Karia’s smirk lingered as she surveyed Faivy with a calculating gaze.
“Today, I’m only here to confirm what you already know, saintess. Any further revelations are either still under investigation or too sensitive to share.”
Faivy quickly understood the implications of the word “sensitive.”
This likely refers to the corrupt individuals within the church.
Knowing who they were would inevitably betray her true feelings, no matter how well she feigned calm.
“Please understand, saintess. We’ll reveal everything when the time is right,” Yohan added in a firm tone, making Faivy force a smile.
There’s no other way. I still have more gaps than strengths.
“Saintess, are you ready to hear what we have to say?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then place your hand on this crystal orb. It will take you back to where it all began.”
Where it all began...
Could it be?
Startled by the unexpected words, Faivy glanced at Lucy, who, noticing her gaze, gave a silent nod.
Could they have truly found it?
That hellish place?
As she stared at the crystal orb, her pulse racing, she felt the warmth emanating from Lucy beside her and took a deep breath.
It’s okay.
With her lady by her side, she could face anything.
All she was doing was facing something she’d have to confront sooner or later.
You’ll be fine, Faivy.
Reassured, she placed her hand on the crystal orb. The moment she touched it, her vision twisted and spun.
As the effects of the teleportation wore off, Faivy found herself kneeling on a deserted field.
This place...
Staggering to her feet, she took in the sight of the building ahead. It was isolated, far enough that even moonlight barely touched it. Despite its seemingly well-maintained appearance, it was empty inside.
The orphanage.
It hadn’t changed from her memories.
As her legs gave way, she slumped to the ground, staring at the building with a vacant gaze.
The open field she’d once thought of as a playground with friends was, in reality, used only for burying the dead.
The dining hall she’d thought was sufficient, despite its lack of abundance, had rarely provided even a single slice of bread.
The bedroom where she and her friends whispered in hushed tones out of fear, lest they be beaten within an inch of their lives.
The prayer room where she thought hymns once filled the air was, in reality, a place where children’s screams echoed.
Caught between her false memories and true nightmares, Faivy’s mind grew hazy as laughter and screams echoed alternately in her ears.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll be good! Please, don’t hit me!”
“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.”
“No, not the prayer room. I don’t want to pray. I don’t believe in God...”
“Why are you unharmed?! Why only you...”
“Faivy.”
Pulled back by the gentle voice, Faivy looked up, drawn by the warmth surrounding her.
In the darkness, Lucy’s crimson hair glowed. Her eyes sparkled like jewels. She smiled in that reliable way of hers, her shoulders looking broader than ever.
With the moon behind her, Lucy’s face felt like a shield against Faivy’s nightmares.
“Did you forget how to stand? Or have you gained so much weight you can’t get up?”
“Heh... no, of course not.”
Using the ground for support, Faivy rose to her feet and clutched the cross around her neck.
Great god, please grant this unworthy soul the courage to face the truth.
Give me the strength to move forward, even in the face of harsh realities.