Chapter 119 | The Vampire Princess Later Drew the Holy Sword

The great plaza of the City of Glory was packed with people.

Esper had been swept into the crowd.

She was just passing by, looking for a drink of water, but the crowd surged in from all directions, as if driven by some invisible hand, sweeping her all the way from the edge of the plaza to the very center.

By the time she found her footing, she could no longer get out.

She was surrounded by people—believers in plain robes, women holding babies, and fanatics holding up portraits of the Saintess.

The face in the portrait was indeed beautiful.

Her long, silvery-white hair was illuminated by the holy light into a pale gold halo, and her clear golden eyes were slightly lowered, as if looking down upon all mortals outside the frame, or as if whispering an unspeakable secret to each viewer individually.

Then, the music started.

The choir, the orchestra, and whatever else could produce music began to play one after another.

Esper looked up and saw the temporary high platform built at the far end of the plaza.

The Saintess stood right in the center of the platform.

She looked even younger than in the portrait, her body resembling that of a ten-year-old child.

This girl was giving a speech, seemingly thanking everyone for attending her holy celebration.

Her voice was ridiculously sweet—so sweet it felt fake, as if it had been soaked in syrup and then coated with a layer of powdered sugar.

Esper stood in the crowd, watching the tiny white figure on the stage begin to sing, her expression completely blank.

The lyrics were excellent, the melody was beautiful, and the instrumental accompaniment was perfect.

Most importantly, the singer herself had a youthful, crisp, childlike voice that was almost heavenly.

While singing, she actively shed that overly sweet demeanor, shifting from her forced cutesy voice back to her natural tone.

The sheer perfection of her performance even sent a slight shock through Esper, who had long developed a decent aesthetic appreciation for art under Eliza's guidance and tutelage.

After finishing the song, Beatrice gracefully performed a holy salute and smiled at the thousands of believers below.

For a brief moment, her gaze swept across the direction where Esper stood.

Yet Esper felt that there was absolutely nothing inside those golden eyes.

This isn't a blessing, Esper thought.

This is just an idol fan meeting.

Beside her, a middle-aged woman was moved to tears. Pressing her hands together, her lips trembled as she murmured the Saintess's name.

On the other side, a young girl held up a wooden board with a crooked heart drawn in holy light powder, inside of which was written: "Lady Beatrice is my eternal light."

Esper averted her eyes from the wooden board and took another look at the Saintess on the stage, who was currently singing her third song.

Now, she was one hundred percent sure the Saintess was winking at the crowd below, occasionally making heart signs with her hands for everyone.

The effect was spectacular. The believers grew even more ecstatic, their rising and falling screams nearly piercing Esper's eardrums.

On a nearby bulletin board, a poster stamped with the official seal of the church was displayed, showing the schedule of the blessing sessions in elegant script.

Esper squeezed her way over to take a look, her eyes twitching.

Three times a week. And there were actually different themes.

Today's was "Shining Holy Light ☆ Flower of Purity." Friday's was "Prayer Under the Moon ♡ Secret Confession." Sunday's was "Praise to the Sun ♪ Golden Grace."

This girl was treating these blessing sessions entirely as her own personal concerts.

They even sold tickets, which allowed buyers to sit in the closest seats right in front of the stage to gaze upon the Saintess's face up close.

“...They must be insane. Who would spend so much money just to be closer to her?”

She quickly discovered that the tickets were already sold out.

After a while longer, the blessing session finally came to an end.

The crowd slowly dispersed, and Esper finally managed to struggle out. She gulped down several mouthfuls of water at a well by the edge of the plaza, then leaned against the well's stone rim, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“...How can such a person even exist?”

...

A few days later, Esper had already put the idol Saintess completely out of her mind.

She had come to the City of Glory to settle down, not to chase after stars.

Esper had already taken on several commissions from the guild, doing everything from clearing slimes out of sewers to helping farmers outside the city drive away wild boars.

Though her rank wasn't high, her reputation was slowly growing. The receptionist at the guild's front desk, a girl named Mila, had even memorized her name and would occasionally slip her one or two minor quests with slightly higher bounties.

However, the guild hall was noisier than usual on this day.

Esper had just handed in her commission report for driving away the wild boars. As she leaned against the counter, waiting for the front desk to settle her payment, a sudden wave of screams erupted from the center of the hall.

Immediately after, the crowd gathered in front of the bulletin board began waving the slips of paper in their hands frantically, knocking down several other bounty notices that had been pinned there.

“I didn't win! Why didn't I win?!”

“The master said my daughter would win this time! Why didn't she?!”

“Holy light bless me! Holy light bless me! Why didn't I win?!”

“Who is it this time? I've never seen this name before. Does anyone know her?”

Esper picked up a swept-aside bounty poster from the floor. It depicted a wanted criminal, with a bounty of fifteen silver coins, and now had several footprints stamped on it.

“What kind of event is it this time?”

“It's the prayer blessing.”

Mila explained in an "I get you" tone as she counted the settled copper coins one by one into a cloth bag.

“After every prayer ceremony, the Saintess randomly selects one lucky person from all the believers in the city to personally give a private blessing. It's a once-in-a-lifetime honor. They say that anyone blessed by the Saintess herself will enjoy continuous good luck and remain free from sickness for the entire following year. That's why everyone gets like this whenever the selection list is announced. The winners are overjoyed, and the losers are like this.”

She handed over the cloth bag, the copper coins clinking crisply inside.

Esper took the coin pouch, weighed it in her hand to confirm it was correct, and then asked another question.

“What do they usually do during this blessing?”

“It's not fixed. Since it's a blessing session, it's mostly about getting close to the Saintess, listening to her teachings, and feeling her holy light. Sometimes they pray together, sometimes they chat, and sometimes the Saintess gives some small blessed gifts. Either way, it's always a good thing.”

“...I see.”

Feel the holy light? Tsk.

Esper tucked the coin pouch into her tunic and turned to walk toward the guild entrance.

Suddenly, a few shouts came from that direction.

“Esper! Where is Esper?!”

The noisy voices of the crowd seemed to be forcefully reined in by something, quickly shifting toward her direction.

“Her name is Esper! It's Miss Esper!”

“...What?”

Soon, someone squeezed in front of her, pointing at her outfit with a face full of excitement.

“Black hair! Not very tall! A cold aura! Just like the description! It's Miss Esper! The lucky winner chosen this time! The Saintess is going to personally give you a prayer blessing!”

Esper's expression froze in a state somewhere between confusion and vigilance.

Before she could even speak, the surrounding crowd completely swamped her.

Several people patted her shoulders as if trying to rub off some of her good luck. Then, someone stuffed a beautiful card with her name on it into her hand, loudly declaring her the lucky winner.

She looked down at the card. Her name was written on it in gold foil ink.

Esper.

The handwriting was elegant, and the ink was not yet completely dry. It must have been written not long ago.

On the back of the card was the sun emblem of the church, with a small handwritten note below it.

“Tomorrow afternoon, please come to the Rose Garden in the church's western courtyard. —Beatrice.”

The crowd gradually dispersed, leaving behind a floor of trampled flyers.

“...What on earth is this?”

In the end, she still chose to go.

Although she couldn't come into contact with the holy light, it would probably be fine if she just made up an excuse to brush it off.

More importantly, she had a lingering feeling that being chosen wasn't entirely a coincidence.

Going to meet this girl probably won't be a problem.

And so, she went.

The blessing location was the Rose Garden in the church's western courtyard, a small open-air garden planted with a full ring of roses.

Vines climbed up the white stone pillars, weaving into a natural canopy overhead. Sunlight filtered through the gaps between petals and leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

Beatrice sat on a bench beneath the canopy, wearing her exquisitely tailored white holy robe and cradling a bundle of freshly cut rose branches in her arms. She looked as beautiful as a promotional poster that would be placed right in the center of the church's bulletin boards.

A few nuns stood not far behind her with lowered eyes and clasped hands, standing perfectly straight. They were clearly sent by the church specifically to attend to the Saintess.

But the Saintess didn't seem like someone who could stay idle. After quietly holding the roses for a while, she simply picked up a small pair of scissors and began snip-snipping away at the thorns.

Her movements were as casual as a neighborhood girl doing crafts.

Upon seeing Esper being led in by a nun, she quickly put down her scissors and flower branches, stood up, and gave her a light curtsy.

“Miss Esper! Welcome, welcome~ Beya has been waiting for you.”

Her voice was incredibly sweet—so sweet it made one's throat feel sticky, yet it was impossible to block out of one's ears.

“...Yeah.”

Esper nodded somewhat uncomfortably. She was still wearing the same outfit today.

Worn leather boots, dark trousers, an old cloak to block the wind, and the short sword at her waist had been replaced with a cheap dagger.

The most expensive thing on her entire body was probably the leather gloves she had bought at the market last time.

Beatrice's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and then she smiled again.

“There's no need to be so stiff. You are the lucky winner who was drawn, so today's blessing session is prepared just for you~”

She patted the bench beside her, gesturing for Esper to sit next to her.

Esper hesitated for a fraction of a second before walking over and sitting down.

The bench was still a bit cool. The fragrance of rose petals, mixed with the scent of soil and freshly cut grass, drifted through the air, smelling rather pleasant.

Over the next half hour or so, Beatrice did a series of things that made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

She had Esper pray and sing holy hymns with her, letting her voice drift into Esper's left ear like a honey-coated feather tickling her ear canal.

Then, she placed her hand on Esper's head, claiming to bestow a blessing. Esper could smell a very faint scent of frankincense mixed with roses wafting from the sleeves of the holy robe, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.

Finally, she poured a cup of holy water, held it to Esper's lips, and asked if she wanted to be fed.

“...No, thank you. The teachings of my homeland do not permit us to drink the holy water of the Church of Radiance.”

“Oh, what a shame~”

Beatrice pouted, looking genuinely disappointed.

“I'm so curious, which region's teachings are those~”

“...”

“Oh well, then this cup of holy water can only be given to the nun sisters next to us.”

Beatrice handed the cup to a nun, then stared intently at Esper with her golden eyes for a while.

Her expression was sincere, her gaze focused, and the corners of her mouth curved into a perfectly gentle arc—everything projected a signal of being "warm and approachable."

But Esper's intuition told her that letting this person get too close to her was not a good idea.

“Miss Esper, Beya has a question she wants to ask you~”

“...What question?”

“You don't look like an ordinary adventurer. Beya can feel a tiny bit of an unusual aura on you, so I'm very curious~”

Esper did not answer. She looked into Beatrice's golden eyes, where her own reflection was mirrored. That reflection was encircled by a very fine golden halo at the edge of the pupil, as if looking at an insect trapped inside a glass jar.

“...I'm just an External Member adventurer.”

“An External Member adventurer, no wonder Beya has never seen your name before~”

She rested her finger against her chin and tilted her head.

“Then would you consider joining the church? Beya can write a recommendation letter for you~ The Holy Spirit Knights are recruiting new members recently, and the pay is quite good.”

“No, thank you. I prefer my freedom.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes slightly. The smile remained plastered on her face, but something flashed deep within her golden pupils.

“What a pity. But that's alright, Beya always welcomes you to change your mind~ Here, this is a blessing from Beya to you.”

She took out a small holy emblem from her robes and placed it in Esper's palm.

“Come, Esper, say: Thank you, Lady Saintess Beatrice~”

“...Thank you.”

“That's incomplete! Say it again!”

“...Thank you, Lady Saintess Beatrice.”

Esper stood up, performed a bow that was far from standard but passable enough, and then, with a face full of awkwardness, turned around and walked toward the exit of the Rose Garden.

She could feel Beatrice's gaze pinned to her back like two fire-heated needles, watching her all the way as she passed through the rose canopy, pushed open the picket gate, and stepped onto the cobblestone path leading back to the city.

A look of delight shimmered in those golden pupils, savoring the information gathered during that brief interaction over and over.

The girl's defensive posture, her shoulders tensing up the instant she was touched, and that unnatural look in her eyes when she spoke of her homeland's teachings.