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65% Fake Saint of the Year: You Wanted the Perfect Saint? Too Bad! / Chapter 65: Chapter 62: Confessions and Truths

章 65: Chapter 62: Confessions and Truths

I didn't stop taking the students (plus Supple) to Fuguten after we'd found Alfrea. We went there several times to train. Just as I'd hoped, their fighting skills gradually improved. They also got the chance to work on their teamwork during real battles.

I also discovered that, while her personality was a bit, uh...you know...Alfrea was a great fighter. I could see how she'd managed to overpower the witch in an era where saints didn't have a proper guard. She took care of most monsters in the blink of an eye, without breaking a sweat. She showcased all the poise and majesty of a glorious saint.

Her shit-eating grin eventually got on my nerves, though, so I used Aurea Libertas to carpet-bomb the forest and annihilate all of the monsters hiding from us in one go. After that, Alfrea spoke to me politely for a little while. I was wondering whether I'd gone a little too overboard, but the turtle had immediately reassured me that it was crucial to show dogs who the boss was when it came to discipline.

Miss turtle, aren't you a little too salty?

At any rate, Alfrea was way better than Eterna. With the final battle against the witch approaching, I was glad to have her here. To be honest, I estimated that Alfrea could most likely defeat Alexia in a one-on-one fight. I would definitely be sending her to the basement as well. Obviously, I couldn't have her kill the witch—even by mistake—so I'd give her the same staff as Eterna.

With that new plan in mind, I had a school uniform tailored for Alfrea.

"Oh! This is pretty cute! So you want me to wear this when I go down to the basement?" Alfrea asked, grabbing her new uniform and moving it around so she could look at it from every angle.

"Yes, please."

I'd brought her to my room on the fifth floor of the academy. Verner and the others were here too, so she couldn't try it on, but Alfrea seemed pleased with her new outfit all the same.

Our headmaster, Viscount Fox, was also in the room. I'd actually bugged him to get this uniform for me as fast as possible.

"I'm so happy there's green on this! Green's my favorite color!" Alfrea exclaimed.

"Is that so?" I asked.

"Yes. The one I hate most is red, by the way. You're bound to see tons of it every day when you have to fight monsters. I saw so much of it that I eventually started hating it."

So Alfrea's favorite color is green, huh? Could it be that the girls' uniforms have touches of it because it's her favorite?

I glanced at Fox, and he guessed my question before I even voiced it. "The first saint's tastes in colors were passed down for centuries," he replied. "Lady Alfrea's legacy is the reason we do not use red in any way at the academy."

"So that's why," Eterna said.

We were at the Training Institute for Magic Knights of Alfrea. It stood to reason that we wouldn't wear the one color she hated. Everyone seemed satisfied with this explanation except for Verner. He was looking down at his feet, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Is he thinking that it's a waste because green sucks?

Leaving Verner's distaste of the color green aside, I'd asked Alfrea to wear a uniform for two reasons. First, I totally dug it. Second, I didn't want the witch to notice that something was off.

The story we wanted to sell was that a group of students had unintentionally wandered into the basement. Until the witch's way out was entirely cut off, she had to believe that. According to Profeta, the witch would most definitely choose to fight if she thought the kids who entered the basement were mere students. If she let them go back scot-free, her hiding place would be revealed and she'd be forced to teleport to escape me—something that would inevitably weaken her.

Alexia's greatest fear was that I'd find her, so we were going to exploit it.

The day of the final battle was getting closer and closer...which also meant that my days here at the academy were numbered.

Night had fallen, and I'd sneaked out to the sports ground without telling Layla. I was currently gazing at the main school building. The wind was messing up my hair, which was somewhat irritating, but I didn't want to move—I wouldn't be able to see this scenery much longer.

I should burn this sight into my memories.

Alfrea's addition to the party had increased my chances of survival, but that didn't really change anything. Once the witch was defeated, I'd reveal everything and I wouldn't be able to stay here.

The rightful saint ought to reclaim her place. As soon as peace was restored, I'd give Eterna the spot that was always meant to be hers. I'd made up my mind a long time ago. After that, I'd go hide somewhere no one would ever find me. I didn't want anyone to find my body after I'd died and mourn for me.

"Huh? Lady Ellize?"

I heard a voice, so I turned around. It was Verner.

Why'd he even come to the sports ground in the middle of the night? Huh, wait—that's the pot calling the kettle black.

"I came out for a jog..." Verner said.

I see, training before the final battle. That's a good mindset to have, Verner.

I hadn't been paying much attention, but this guy had become super jacked in the past few months. When I'd first met him, he'd still been a skinny pretty boy—the type worthy of being the main character of a dating sim. Now, though, he looked like the main character of some fighting game. You've been working out a little too much, dude.

"But I'm glad I ran into you," he continued. "There's something I need to tell you."

Something you need to tell me, huh? Couldn't you have told me during the day?

I said as much, and Verner scratched his cheek, an awkward look on his face.

"Well, the thing is...Miss Layla is always with you during the day. I wanted to discuss this with just the two of us."

Verner's cheeks were a soft shade of pink, and his eyes kept darting away as he spoke.

I see, I see. You wanted the two of us to be alone together when you told me. Wait. Hang on. Is this what I think it is?

I admittedly didn't have much romantic experience, but he was being way too obvious. Even I could see where this was going.

Veeeeerner! Are you sure you wanna do this?! Please don't! You still have time to think it over! It's not too late!

What do I even say?! Should I just use the most cliché line in the book and answer that I like—note the emphasis on the like—him too?

No, I gotta calm down. He might have something entirely different to say. I'm overthinking this. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding. Please, God, let it just be a misunderstanding!

"Lady Ellize... Ever since you saved me three years ago, I've always had a single goal in mind—to become your knight. But I've been concealing something from you... I know I shouldn't feel this way, but, um... I-I'm not sure how to say this..."

Good. Don't say it, then! You can still back out of this.

The main character stumbling on their words and being unable to confess their feelings was such a staple scene that I couldn't help but give him a mental thumbs up.

You really have this whole protagonist thing down, Verner. Now, the next step is to shut up forever and let our current relationship continue, got it?

"I really can't find the words," Verner continued after a pause. "There are so many things I wanted to tell you, but my mind is blank... I-I really should just say it straight, shouldn't I? Lady Ellize, I..."

"Don't say any more!"

STOOOOOOP!!! This is the part when you hesitate and give up, Verner! Why are you pushing through and confessing anyway?! You're not supposed to step right into the huge turd on the sidewalk—you're supposed to go around it! Find someone else, all right?! I'm serious! I mean it! Anyone but me!

"You should say this to someone else, Verner," I said. "I'm not worthy of these feelings."

I didn't know how to continue this conversion. I'd stopped Verner in the middle of his confession, but what was I supposed to say now?

Do I reject him? What if he says he won't fight the witch because he's lost his drive?

A few awkward seconds went by during which neither of us said a word. Verner was the one to break the silence.

"Are you saying this...because you aren't the saint?"

HUH?! HE KNEW?!

My first instinct was to wonder how he'd found me out, but I already knew. That one mistake I'd made had come back to bite me in the ass. Headmaster Fox had jogged his memory earlier.

We do not use red in any way at the academy, he'd said.

When I'd gotten hurt in front of Verner, I'd blurted out a terrible excuse about red thread. While he hadn't seen through my lie at the time, he'd finally put two and two together.

"Since when have you known?" I asked after a pause.

"Right now," he answered immediately. "I wasn't sure, but your reaction just confirmed it."

Damn, he got me. Way to play yourself, me.

"I started feeling like something was off after Eterna awakened," he continued. "Miss Layla said that Eterna was 'just as strong as the saints of old,' and after seeing Lady Alfrea fight, I realized she was right. Eterna isn't as strong as her yet, but she's in the same league. And then...when I heard what the headmaster said earlier today, I remembered what had happened last time."

Verner had been paying attention.

Ah well, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The second Eterna had awakened, I'd known that I wouldn't be able to fool them for much longer. I'd done what I could to buy myself some time, but it had only worked because of the powers I'd stolen from Verner. Obviously, Verner knew I'd taken magic from him—I'd done it right in front of his eyes. He simply needed a reason to suspect me to realize what I'd done.

"When I realized that...I finally understood what you'd meant three years ago. When you told me you wished for me to encounter my saint, you were talking about Eterna, weren't you?"

Right on the money.

Boy, I'd been looking down on our main character the entire time, but he was smarter than he looked. I didn't think he'd get it.

It didn't matter, though. At least, now he probably understood that everything had been fake from day one.

"That's right. I'm no saint, Verner," I said. "I simply happened to be born in the same village as Eterna. I had a large reserve of mana, so I was mistaken for her and raised as the saint. I've been lying to everyone this entire time. I'm a fake."

"Then...your powers are..."

"As you've probably guessed, I've been using the dark powers I borrowed from you on that day three years ago to mimic the saint's powers. The rest was all magic—plain old magic. I'm nothing special, Verner. I simply circulate my mana continuously, day and night, to expand my mana pool."

Verner seemed surprised by my explanation.

"You finally get it, don't you?" I continued. "The person you like, Ellize the saint, never existed to begin with. I've been playing a role this entire time. This is all a sham. I've acted out the perfect saint the people wanted to see, but it isn't me. You're in love with an illusion, Verner."

I was a little too direct, wasn't I? He probably hates me now.

Oh well, earning his disappointment and resentment was far better than having him lock himself on a route that made no sense. He'd be far happier this way.

Strangely enough, Verner's face didn't change. He looked, uh...normal?

Huh?

"You've got it all wrong, Lady Ellize," he said. "You may not be the 'real' saint, but the people you've helped over the years are all real! I'm only standing here right now because you were there for me! You say you were playing a part, but when you play a role perfectly, it stops being a role. You made it all real! Anyone would agree that you're the saint of our generation! You're not an illusion—you're right here! And none of this changes my feelings. You are my saint. You always have been, and always will be!"

Oh my, he's all fired up. Slow down, Verner. Chill. I got your point, so there's no need to say anything more! I don't need you to confess to me like you're the main character of some romantic lo— Wait, he is the main character of a romantic love story!

"Lady Ellize, I..."

S-S-STOP!

Don't get carried away, Verner! The mood's going to make you say something crazy! Let's take a little break and breathe, okay? If you think about it for five minutes, you'll realize you don't want a fake! Don't say it! Please, don't say it!

"I love you!"

AAAAARGH!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!

ASLDFKGSKLSSKLFKLJAASASL;DKWTJ;LSDG!!!

Even if it was all an act, it doesn't change the fact that she saved me.

A very distinct impression that something was off had struck Verner when he'd seen Alfrea fight monsters for the first time.

Even though Alfrea was a bit, um...wild—no, a bit of a free-spirit—and, generally speaking, the furthest thing from what he'd imagined the first saint would be like, her powers were the real deal. She knocked down monsters in a single blow and couldn't be hurt by anything but the witch or the saint's powers.

Seeing her burn down monsters with a flash of white light had left little room to doubt the truth: she was a saint.

And yet, Verner thought that her performance was somehow anticlimactic. She was amazing, sure. She was strong, it was true. But she wasn't overwhelming. She didn't make blades of light fall from the sky, or fire beams that chased after her enemies. And she didn't eradicate dozens—let alone hundreds—of monsters with a flick of her wrist. Verner hadn't seen her command the weather or breathe new life into a plot of dried-out land either.

Alfrea's powers were all too normal in comparison to the miracles Ellize performed.

Verner couldn't think of her as a goddess who'd descended from the heavens. She was simply a girl who won over monsters in battle because her powers happened to be of the right attribute. Besides, she didn't even seem all that much stronger than Eterna. She was a bit better, sure, but the margin was fairly narrow as far as Verner could tell.

While Eterna's powers were very much like those of a saint, he'd always thought she couldn't compare to what a real saint could do...but that was because Verner had always compared her to Ellize.

Profeta had told them that Alfrea wasn't weaker than most saints. If anything, she was even slightly stronger than Alexia, the previous saint and current witch. Eterna's abilities fit in right there with them. Without Ellize around, anyone would've mistaken her for the saint. Even Layla, the head of the saint's guard, had said so.

But would that really have been a mistake?

Verner, who'd realized that his frame of reference had been off all along, was assaulted by doubt. His doubts had finally turned into certitude today.

Alfrea had started talking about her taste in colors after seeing her uniform, and the headmaster had commented on it.

"I'm so happy there's green on this! Green's my favorite color!"

"Yes. The one I hate most is red, by the way. You're bound to see tons of it every day when you have to fight monsters. I saw so much of it that I eventually started hating it."

"The first saint's tastes in colors were passed down for centuries. Lady Alfrea's legacy is the reason we do not use red in any way at the academy."

There was no red thread on the uniforms.

Verner had recalled that time when he and Ellize had fallen off a cliff. He'd woken up in a cavern next to Ellize, and they'd chatted. That was when he'd seen a cut on her arm and pointed it out. He could still remember Ellize's exact answer:

"Looks like a piece of thread was stuck to my arm. It must have come off my uniform when I fell."

At the time, her explanation had convinced him. Her wound had disappeared, and Ellize was holding a piece of red thread in her hand. But thinking back on it, Verner had realized that it didn't make any sense. There was no red thread on the uniform Ellize wore.

That got him thinking—had Ellize truly been holding a piece of thread? She could create auroras and meteor showers. Someone like her could very well have created an illusion by magic.

Verner couldn't be a hundred percent sure, though. Ellize could have had a red handkerchief in her pocket, and it could have been shredded during the fall, leaving a thread on her arm. It wasn't impossible.

Besides, Ellize could do things that only a saint could do.

She couldn't fake that, Verner had thought, before he'd remembered something else.

"It's all right. Don't worry, I'm fine. This power will help you one day. But I understand how much it must make you suffer right now... So I will borrow some of it, all right?"

Ellize had told him that three years ago. His meeting with Ellize on that fateful day had been his starting point, and not a single day went by that he didn't think back on that special moment.

That was why Verner had immediately understood the answer to his question.

She could. Three years ago, she took some of my power. Even if she's not the saint, she'd still be able to do these things.

Was Ellize the saint, or wasn't she?

To be perfectly honest, Verner didn't really care either way. Ellize had saved him on that day. That wouldn't change, and his resolve to fight for her wouldn't change either.

If Ellize wasn't the saint, it would only mean that a regular girl had managed to do more for humanity than all of the saints combined. If anything, that would only make Verner respect her more.

Above all, Verner knew that no matter who Ellize was, his feelings for her wouldn't change. He was in love with Ellize. Nothing could change that—especially not small, unimportant details such as her identity.

And so, when he'd run into her at the sports ground, Verner had let his ardor take over him and tried to confess. With Layla out of the way, it had been the perfect occasion. He hadn't wanted to let it slip away. He still remembered how, at Ellize's birthday festival, Layla had stayed glued to her side the entire time, her watchful eyes preventing him from confessing.

He'd tried expressing his feelings, but Ellize had stopped him and told him the truth.

It had all been a result of hard work. All the miracles she'd shown them had been accomplished through hard work.

Verner knew that taking in the mana around you and circulating it inside your body before pushing it back out could increase your mana pool. He'd learned the method in class, and he'd done it many times when training. It was something that required your full concentration, and above all, put a big strain on your psyche.

Verner wasn't sure how it worked exactly, but people's emotions continuously seeped out of their bodies along with their mana. Accepting that foreign mana inside yourself meant having to bear the brunt of other people's emotions. You'd feel their anger, hatred, frustration, envy, and so on. It was a continuous fight to avoid being tainted by them. Circulating foreign mana felt as though your colors were gradually tainted by other, unknown colors. It was a terrifying feeling. You also risked losing yourself during the process. Maintaining a clear boundary between your own self and the surge of outside emotions was so challenging that people usually didn't circulate mana for too long. In fact, most people hated doing it and practiced as little as possible.

And yet, Ellize had been doing it continuously, day and night.

If anyone else had tried to imitate her training methods, they would have lost their minds. Verner wouldn't have been surprised to see someone who'd gone through that become as twisted as the witch herself. However, Ellize was perfectly fine. It had to be because she was the only person he knew who could accept anything with a forgiving heart. At least, that was Verner's best guess.

Who else could have done what she had? Who else could take her place?

Ellize seemed to look down on herself. She'd told him she was a sham—an illusion. Verner didn't agree.

She wasn't the saint, that much was true. She might have been playing a role, just as she'd said, and acted out the perfect saint people wanted her to be. But that didn't change the fact that people—real, living people—and the world itself had been saved by her act.

She'd reclaimed land from the monsters, revived nature, and saved countless lives. Far fewer children died of hunger every winter. Smiles had returned to the faces of those who'd lost hope. Verner himself had found the will to live, and he'd found a new goal after meeting her.

None of that was fake. Ellize was no illusion.

Verner's feelings wouldn't change. He only had one saint. Even if she was a fake who'd been acting this entire time, she was still Verner's one and only saint. To him, she was the real deal. There was no need for him to hesitate or feel embarrassed. He would be true to his feelings and voice them out loud.

Ellize looked at him, a confused expression on her face. Verner couldn't tell what she was thinking, but he didn't regret speaking up. He'd finally said what he wanted to say.

He wouldn't mind if Ellize rejected him on the spot. No, actually, that was a lie. He would be sad. Still, he had no regrets.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Ellize finally spoke. She looked straight at him, a soft smile on her lips, and said, "Thank you, Verner. Hearing you say that...makes me realize that I haven't done all this for nothing."

Verner felt like a hint of sadness was hidden behind her smile. He would soon understand why.

"But..." Ellize continued. "I can't answer your feelings. I know I'll make you unhappy."

"What do—"

Verner tried to ask what she meant, but Ellize didn't let him finish.

"I don't have much longer to live. I have six more months...at best. It's very likely that I won't be here to celebrate my next birthday."

Verner's mind went blank. He wanted to believe this was a lie—an excuse Ellize had made up to reject him without hurting his feelings—but he couldn't. His brain had already figured out the reason behind Ellize's condition.

Verner's powers were a curse. They ate away at anything and everything, and Ellize had taken away a part of them. While he'd always thought they couldn't have harmed her because she was the saint, he was finally realizing that he'd been mistaken once more. Ellize wasn't the saint. That meant Verner's powers were like a poison to her.

The young man didn't know what to do or think. He was frozen in place.

"Please don't worry about me," Ellize said. "This is what I wanted. I chose to embark on this path knowing full well where it would lead me. Without the powers I borrowed from you, I wouldn't have been able to pose as the saint. So please don't feel guilty. In fact, feel free to resent me instead—you do realize I used you so I could deceive everyone, correct?"

Verner wanted to scream that she was wrong. What kind of fool would doom themselves simply to deceive people? It made no sense. Ellize wasn't an idiot. She wouldn't willingly lose decades of her life to make her act slightly more believable. Besides, Ellize had already been known as the greatest saint in history before she'd even met Verner.

Verner could tell she was trying to make herself sound like the bad guy just so that he wouldn't feel guilty, but his voice wouldn't come out. His throat had closed up, and it refused to make a sound. He couldn't stop thinking about the terrible truth—that Ellize would pass soon.

He'd thought that he would've been fine after this conversation, that he wouldn't have regrets even if Ellize dumped him. Even if he couldn't be by her side, he would have been happy knowing that Ellize was alive and well. But this... This was too much.

"So, Verner... You should be with someone else. Find a nice girl who will make you happy. I want you to live with her and lead this world toward a beautiful future. That's the best course of action."

Ellize didn't exist in the future she spoke of, Verner realized.

She's so selfish.

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(4.3k word count)


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