Chapter 19
The Retired Saintess Raises House Prices Episode 19
Episode 19
Under the moonlight, I practiced smiling at the empty air every which way before trudging back to my tent, exhausted.
But Mikhail was standing in front of my tent, as if waiting for me.
“Where have you been?”
“Just out for some fresh air. Why?”
Maybe he was worried? I tried smiling just as I'd practiced.
“You can't wander around alone outside the Temple.”
If his expression hadn't been so terrifying.
“……Why? Think I'm gonna run away or something?”
He said nothing.
Mikhail's silence spoke for him in affirmation.
Have I lost my mind, thinking I could seduce this brainwashed cult leader and escape? Not a chance in hell.
Overwhelmed by injustice and anger, I snapped.
“Am I a prisoner? How can you corner someone like this and suffocate them? Don't saintesses have human rights?”
“It's not treating you like a prisoner—it's protection. The world outside the Temple is dangerous.”
“It's dangerous because the captain says he'll kill me if I try to run.”
“We don't kill those who run. We execute those who've abandoned God and fallen to temptation, straying onto the path of evil.”
My clenched fists trembled. I wanted to smash that damned blind faith to pieces.
Actually, more than the faith, I desperately wanted to punch Mikhail's smug, superior face.
“Is killing people who just want to live freely, branding them witches, really God's will? I don't remember reading that in the scriptures.”
I'd learned this world's writing bit by bit through deaths and regressions.
To prove myself a diligent, good saintess, I'd pored over those brick-like scriptures indistinguishable from books.
Of course, they never said to kill people.
But Mikhail was shameless.
“There is a command to eradicate evil. I'm just doing my duty.”
“Who told you to? Moandalla? The Great Saintess?”
Once my mouth burst open, it wouldn't stop. I couldn't stand his blatant suspicion and surveillance anymore.
Mikhail pressed his lips tight and spoke each word deliberately, like stamping them down.
“……Looks like you went out alone and got possessed by something. What did I tell you? It's dangerous—don't wander off by yourself.”
Mikhail's hand drifted to the hilt of his sword.
This bastard's planning to brand me a witch and kill me again.
No—he'll kill me first, then announce I was a witch. And I'll die as one again, unchanged.
As I said nothing, the warmth faded from Mikhail's expression.
Only then did I snap to my senses a bit.
What's the point of arguing my pitiful captive plight in the Temple? Nothing changes.
Stupidly venting at Mikhail.
I'd wasted the love tips from the ghosts.
No choice now but to go all-in.
Faster than planned, but time to confess.
Can't drag it out anymore.
……Gotta shoot my shot.
I kept the excited tone but mixed in some pitifulness, stepping toward him.
“Don't you get why I crave freedom so much? Have you no idea at all what freedom I dream of?!”
Please.
Take the bait.
I squeezed my eyes shut, opened them, and confessed to Mikhail with tears streaming.
“You're the one testing me, Mikhail Severino.”
His hand, poised to draw his sword, fell away from the sheath.
Success?
Mikhail stared at me limply, hands dangling at his sides.
Had the confession landed?
Mikhail swept a hand over his face and sighed. But thankfully, it wasn't exhaustion or annoyance.
He even glanced around, as if worried someone might overhear.
Mikhail's golden eyes shook heavily.
Considering he'd branded another saintess a witch and burned her alive for confessing before, his actions now seemed like he was trying to save me.
And sure enough, moments later, Mikhail replied calmly.
“I'll pretend I didn't hear what you just said.”
He bolted from me the moment he finished speaking.
At least I'm alive for now?
He didn't accept, but I'd bought time.
Once Mikhail vanished from sight, tension drained from my body.
I'd averted immediate crisis, but this life was effectively ruined too.
Stupid move.
Idiotically losing my temper and confessing to Mikhail blew my escape chance.
Damn it.
Future looked bleak.
Heading back to the Temple like this meant prisoner life again.
Having confessed to Mikhail already, he'd watch me even more suspiciously with hawk eyes.
I'd kicked away my chance—not just a fumble, a grand slam.
Standing dazed in despair, I racked my brain for alternatives. Other safe escape routes.
……None.
Fine, abandon this life.
Mikhail had glanced around before entering his tent, so no one nearby.
And shocked by my confession, he'd retreated straight to his own tent.
Escape odds were slim, but if not now, no chance to even try.
I spun around and crept cautiously into the forest.
Avoiding the carriage path to dodge detection, I plunged into pathless woods.
I had Kitchen Chief Paul's map tucked away and ample secretly stashed funds.
I can go anywhere!
A 'danger zone' sign midway didn't faze me much.
About to become a ghost myself—what's meeting a few ghost seniors?
Complacent after nothing happened so far, I roamed the woods.
But maybe too complacent.
Invisible ghosts could still affect me.
Hours in, circling the same spot.
Tore my skirt hem, tied it to a tree as a marker—kept returning to it.
At forks, took different paths, tied hem scraps at varying branch heights—yet after long walks, back at the first tree.
This must be being led astray.
First couple times, shrugged it off, but hours of looping drove me mad. Throat parched, mouth dry, metallic blood taste.
Sun set too, woods turned pitch-black like spilled ink.
Couldn't see an inch ahead.
Navigated by moonlight filtering through branches, but soon lost sense of direction.
Earlier, knew I was looping; now, no clue if climbing or descending.
Learned in mountains to stay put for rescuers, but no mountain rescue in this fantasy medieval world.
Even if there was, a runaway saintess lost? They'd report me to the Temple.
Wonder if saintesses died lost like this?
Then, close by, water sounds.
Trickling stream.
Water flows down, so follow it to the base?
I headed blindly toward the sound.
Slipped on leaves, tripped on rocks, tore clothes—but kept going.
I hate burning to death.
Only thought: get home.
Miss Mom and Dad.
Who love me…….
Undoubtedly, without a doubt, love me.
