Chapter 5
The Retired Saintess Raises House Prices Episode 5
Episode 5
“Of course.”
The Great Saintess clasped her hands as if in prayer, then carefully spread them apart. Astonishingly, a blue flame flickered to life in her palms.
Severino dropped my lock of hair into it.
Everyone watched in silence as my hair burned away in the small flame.
‘What the hell. What does burning hair even mean!’
Something was happening that I had no clue about.
Severino bowed his head to the Great Saintess and spoke in a heavy, sunken voice.
“I apologize for halting the witch trial with my hasty judgment.”
As the Great Saintess parted her hands, the flame vanished without a trace. She patted Severino's shoulder with a benevolent smile.
“Everyone makes mistakes. Even if you were deceived by that wicked devil, you haven't forsaken your humanity.”
Finishing her words, the Great Saintess signaled to the Holy Knights holding torches, and they strode toward me without hesitation.
Am I really dying like this?
I couldn't believe it.
What did I even do wrong?
There was nowhere else to rest but those places.
A saintess who left the Temple in this damned country had nowhere to go.
“No, no……! I'm really not a witch! I'm not!”
But my desperate cries reached no one.
The torches ignited the kindling, and in an instant, scorching flames and black smoke filled the air around me.
“Please! Put out the fire! Someone extinguish it! I'm, cough! I'm not a witch! Cough! No! Why won't you believe me! Why! It's hot, so hot! Hot! Aaah! Aaaah!”
Enormous flames enveloped me.
Screaming for help, begging to live, thrashing until the ropes snapped in the blaze.
I tumbled beneath the kindling with my body ablaze.
I rolled frantically on the ground to douse the flames, but the fire consuming my entire body showed no sign of dying down.
The priests and saintesses all laughed as they watched me.
Everyone except Severino, whose expression was unreadable.
Just before my eyelids melted shut, the last thing I saw was the Great Saintess's compassionate smile.
And suddenly, I opened my eyes again inside the Temple.
Eryl grabbed my collar and yanked me up.
“Shuana! Get up! It's your cleaning duty today!”
……What the hell just happened?
I frantically looked around, but there were no massive flames, no Holy Knights or priests.
No that damned Great Saintess either.
It was the shabby, old room in the Temple where I lived.
“……Eryl.”
“What?”
“Have you…… ever seen a witch trial?”
“Twice when I was a kid? Why ask out of nowhere? Don't tell me you're dodging cleaning duty?”
Eryl's curt tone was the same as ever.
I'd regressed again.
Just running away from here won't let me survive safely.
I'll die before the world even ends.
The suffocating pain of scorching flames wrapping my body felt all too vivid.
One thing was clear now.
I can't escape, even if I die.
‘Not until this novel ends.’
I stared blankly into space before turning to Eryl.
“On days when it's my cleaning turn, I do it. On your turn, I do it because I'm your direct junior. On days neither of us is on duty, I do laundry, prep meal ingredients, and never get a break. What do you do? Just watch?”
“W-what……?! Why are you suddenly like this! You were always so obedient!”
Unhappy with my point-by-point breakdown, Eryl's face flushed bright red.
“You, you! Think being a baron's daughter lets you act all high and mighty now?! Doesn't matter—you were sold here! You'll live out your days as a low-rank saintess doing menial chores! Same as me!”
Eryl trembled with clenched fists, spat out her words, then stormed out, slamming the door.
I'd unexpectedly gained new information.
‘Shuana,’ the original owner of this body, was the daughter of a baron, sold to the Temple as a low-rank saintess to handle all the menial work.
To escape this Temple safely, I needed more information.
I got out of bed, opened the door, and stepped into the hall.
Eryl was still glaring at me from the corridor, fists clenched tight in anger.
“You were half-dead for days saying you were sick, so I covered your shifts too! While you lay in bed for nearly ten days, I did everything alone!”
Ah, so that's why she piled work on me after I woke up.
Even a rude girl like Eryl doing all the work alone deserved to feel wronged.
“……Damn, last night you weren't even breathing right—I was so scared!”
Shuana must have died overnight.
“I see. Thanks, Eryl. For the next ten days, I'll handle cleaning alone. Your areas too, all of them.”
“……For real?”
“Yeah. So tell me exactly where your areas and mine are. You know the Temple better than me. As my senior.”
Calling her senior softened Eryl's expression bit by bit, her lips twitching.
Eryl was the type who loved being buttered up and explaining things.
Thanks to that, I learned the location of the document archive containing the saintesses' personal records.
But as a low-rank saintess, I had no right to enter.
First things first: earn the Temple folks' trust. Then use the gathered info to escape this cultish hellhole.
Dying once had sharpened my mind.
For days, I worked diligently, gathering stories about ‘Shuana’ from people around the Temple.
Shuana was born to a baron, but rumors swirled that the baron's wife had cheated, so he never acknowledged her as his daughter.
He hid her away in the attic until she was nine, without giving her his name.
Then sold her off to the Temple at ten.
From attic prison to Temple prison. No different.
Just a transfer between facilities.
After that, I regressed several more times and died as a witch three more times.
Each time, flames consumed my body amid indifferent stares, dying alone and lonely.
After trial and error, I figured out how to cater to the tastes of those living in the Temple.
They praised me as a rare diligent saintess.
Yes, keep smiling nicely, everyone.
Until the moment this empire becomes a sea of fire.
This time, I'll watch all of you burn to death without escaping.
* * *
Kitchen chief Paul was ready to unleash a tirade the moment he entered his kitchen.
The low-rank saintesses cleaning always sorted dishes and utensils however they pleased, which irked him.
It'd be easier with one assigned person, but those lazy girls rotated duties daily for “fairness.”
Every day, utensil positions changed, turning cooking into a nightmare.
Paul stormed in, fuming, then froze.
All dishes and utensils were neatly arranged in the most efficient workflow for cooking.
Every bowl was spotless, sorted by size and purpose.
“Hey, who's on duty today?”
“Bottom-tier Shu. Why?”
“Bottom-tier Shu…… Ah, that low-rank saintess from the ruined baron's family?”
“Yep, that's her. Wow, the dishes are really clean today.”
“She polished the silverware too?”
“Yeah. Why? Is any missing?”
“No. All accounted for. ……Pretty thorough, huh.”
Paul scanned the kitchen with satisfaction, then asked his assistant.
“What's her actual name?”
A small kindness—he figured learning it would let him give her extras when they met.
At first.
