2 – Saint Sistina

Saint Sistina had someone provide me with clothes and food.

Her act of helping me was witnessed by others visiting the church.

“Oh… truly the saint…”

“To extend a helping hand even to such a filthy man like him!”

Maybe I should just change my name to ‘Walking Human Trash.’

Anyway, thanks to her, I escaped the fate of starving on the streets.

I washed myself at the well in the church’s backyard and dressed in the clothes provided by the priests.

“From today, you’ll clean the backyard and the interior of the church morning and evening.”

A young-looking apprentice priest handed me a broom and a mop.

The church had agreed to provide me with room and board in exchange for my work as a cleaner.

For me, without any foothold in this otherworld, it was a welcome offer.

I had no reason to refuse.

But something bothered me.

Why wasn’t Saint Sistina wearing underwear?

Such a beautiful and holy saint not wearing underwear…

Could it be a teaching of Freya, the goddess worshiped in this church?

Do all the priests here also not wear underwear?

It was unbearably distracting.

“Hey! Stop daydreaming and clean properly!”

A priest shouted at me as I stood in the backyard with a broom.

Apart from Saint Sistina, the church members didn’t look kindly upon me.

After all, they had taken in a beggar who wore nothing but rags on the street.

Still, it wasn’t pleasant being constantly nagged and scolded while cleaning.

『Lucky to have found work as a janitor in the church, Yunoha was full of complaints, unaware of his place.』

Yeah, yeah, I get it.

A little grumbling shouldn’t hurt.

As I listened to the narration, still sharp as ever, I diligently cleaned the backyard.

* * *

Saint Sistina visits the church once a week to offer her prayers.

On the days she visited, the priests, who usually only scolded me, miraculously turned kind. The dry, twisted bread that was my daily meal transformed into meat and fruit. To me, she was like an angel descending once a week.

“Yunoha, how is life at the church?”

Sistina would approach me after her duties in the church and ask. The surrounding priests would then fix their gaze on me, as if shooting lasers from their eyes, silently pressuring me not to say anything inappropriate. Honestly, without the saint around, it’s pretty awful. I wanted to say that but held back. The church is an organization, and as a non-regular, bottom-tier janitor, I knew complaining would only bring trouble. Enduring to some extent was necessary if I didn’t want to end up back on the streets, even if I was just scraping by.

“Thanks to you, I eat well and am doing fine. I can’t thank you enough, Saint.”

“It’s good to hear that. May the Goddess’s blessing be with you.”

Saint Sistina responded with a warm smile. Her unreal beauty made my head spin and my heart race. A saint like her… not wearing any underwear? The hidden truth beneath her modest priestly garb was unbearably intriguing.

* * *

Life as a church janitor was tough. Before I took the job, the church didn’t have a dedicated janitor. The cleaning was done by the apprentice priests as part of their training. There were eight of them, and what they all did together, I was doing alone. It was exhausting.

After the morning and evening cleaning, I would sleep in a small shed in the church’s backyard, on straw bedding. There were empty rooms in the church for apprentice priests and distant guests, but none for me. Initially, I was grateful for just having food and a place to sleep, but over time, the priests’ constant nagging, and the decreasing portions of food made me question my situation.

Especially hard to endure was the treatment by the young apprentice priests. They had offloaded all their cleaning and menial tasks onto me and were particularly enthusiastic about tormenting me.

“Hey, there’s still dust here!” One of them would climb a ladder to a high window, swipe a bit of dust with his finger, and then scold me.

“I cleaned there this morning. Of course, if you keep rubbing your finger, dust will appear.”

“And you dare talk back, clinging to the church only because of the saint?”

“…I’ll clean it again.”

It was always like this.

I thought, if I were a goddess, I would strike these immature brats with lightning one by one. Spit.

* * *

Vaynar, the city of adventurers. And I was in the Church of Goddess Freya in Vaynar. As I got used to cleaning the church, I began to overhear conversations between priests and worshippers. Except when the apprentice priests were finding fault, my presence was almost invisible, allowing me to overhear these things.

Sometimes, amidst the usual mockery or brutal facts, the narration would reveal information I couldn’t have known otherwise. Like the shocking fact about Saint Sistina not wearing underwear.

『Yunoha remained fixated on Saint Sistina’s underwear situation. Maybe it was all that was left of his primal instincts, having nothing else to his name.』

No, no, it’s not like that. Sure, Sistina is exceptionally beautiful, and I can’t say I haven’t had such thoughts, but don’t make me sound like an animal. Curiosity is natural when you hear about a saint not wearing underwear. Damn narration.

But thanks to it, I learned quite a few things, particularly about the role of the saint.

『Bishop Jaziel was anxious that Saint Sistina, despite praying every week, had yet to find a hero.』

Bishop Jaziel was the highest authority in our church. He rarely appeared, except on days when Sistina came to pray.

“Saint, has the hero not appeared yet?”

After her prayers, Bishop Jaziel would always ask her the same question. His disappointment was evident when she replied that the Goddess had not yet responded.

The narration had mentioned his anxiety during one of these exchanges.

A hero…

『Yunoha, barely getting by with his menial job at the church, wondered if he could be the hero. But contrary to his vain hopes, Yunoha was definitely not the hero.』

Just as I mused on the word ‘hero,’ the voice in my head returned its biting remark. Well, I didn’t expect to be the hero anyway. You get immune to such harsh words after a while.

But it was interesting to see that even this outwardly peaceful church had its complexities.

“Yunoha.”

Lost in thought while sweeping, I turned around as Saint Sistina called my name.

“Thank

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you for always keeping the church clean. It’s a lot of work for one person. I’m sure the Goddess Freya is pleased with your efforts.”

Sistina smiled kindly and handed me a small pouch.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a small token of appreciation from the church. You’re contributing more than the church is giving you.”

Inside the pouch were a few silver coins. I had felt the arrangement a bit unfair. Doing the work of eight people for just room and board felt like exploitation.

“Thank you! I truly appreciate it.”

I was genuinely grateful. She truly deserved to be called a saint.

* * *

“How much is this?”

“5 gold.”

I asked about the price of a sword, stuck in a large wooden barrel at the weapon shop. The owner, losing interest in me as I kept asking prices without buying, replied indifferently.

Thanks to Saint Sistina’s kindness, I suddenly found myself with some money and spent a long time pondering how to use it.

I only clean the church in the morning and evening, so I took some time off at noon and headed to a nearby street.

I thought about going to a restaurant to have a proper meal until I was full.

Maybe buy some new clothes to change into.

After much deliberation, I decided to invest in my future, thinking that since I’ve come to another world, I should aim to be an adventurer.

But when I arrived at the weapon shop…

“Isn’t there something cheaper?”

I didn’t expect swords to be so expensive.

The money I got from Sistina was 30 silver coins.

But even the most basic sword started at a minimum of 1 gold.

The weapon shop owner, annoyed by my question, simply pointed to a corner of the shop without saying a word.

There, I found swords labeled ‘used’ haphazardly thrown into a large box.

Some of them were missing sheaths, and some were so damaged they were close to breaking.

“There’s nothing decent here.”

“Unable to give up on his dream of becoming an adventurer, Yunoa was rummaging through the used weapons in the weapon shop with the little money he couldn’t afford to buy even a toy sword.

But for him, who had never swung a sword in his life, even these near-garbage cheap swords were a luxury.”

Certainly, this was like buying trash with money.

But I thought I could somehow learn swordsmanship.

After all, no one starts off being good at everything.

Anyway, buying a sword with the money I had now didn’t seem like a good idea.

Receiving the weapon shop owner’s scornful gaze, I headed back outside.

“Huh?”

But then, I noticed a familiar person on the other side of the street.

It was Bishop Xavier.

So this is where he is on the days when the saint doesn’t come to church.

Unlike when I saw him at church, he wasn’t wearing his priestly robes.

Well, it’s not church, so that’s probably normal.

But who is that person next to him?

Looking closely, I saw someone wearing a black hood, engaged in conversation with him.

Well, it’s none of my business anyway.

Thinking this, I was about to return to the church when I heard a voice in my head.

“Bishop Xavier, who had finally seized control of the church, resented the saint for not finding the hero quickly.

His master was angry because she hadn’t found the hero quickly enough.”

The narration was too strange to just ignore.

I secretly watched Bishop Xavier talking to someone from a distance, waiting for the narration to continue.

“But Bishop Xavier received a new order from his impatient master.

Instead of waiting for a hero who might appear at any time, the order was to take the life of the saint.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as I looked at Bishop Xavier.

The person in the black hood disappeared like smoke after a while.

As Bishop Xavier turned his head towards me, I instinctively hid behind the wall of a building.

“What did I just hear?”

I felt cold sweat running down my back and my heart pounding.

Something big was about to happen.

* * *

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