Lovene turned around.
The path at the entrance of the village was packed with a dense crowd of people.
The lame old man stood at the very front, leaning on his crutch with a deeply apologetic expression. Behind him was the woman Lovene had saved, cradling the little girl named Alvina in her arms.
Further back was the hunter carrying a large bow, along with the villagers who had once joined Harvey in his jeering.
The little girl, Alvina, squeezed through the crowd, holding a large bouquet of golden wildflowers in both hands. The petals still carried the morning dew, glittering under the sunlight.
She ran up to Lovene, tipped up on her toes, and raised the flowers high above her head.
“Lady Saintess, these are the flowers I wanted to give you!”
Her cheeks were flushed red, and her eyes shone like gems. Lovene knelt down, took the bouquet, and leaned in to sniff them.
The fragrance of the flowers was faint, carrying the scent of soil and fresh grass.
“Thank you, Alvina.” Lovene patted her head. “I will take good care of them.”
The little girl grinned and turned to run back to her mother. The woman took her hand and bowed deeply to Lovene. She didn't speak, but her eyes were red.
The hunter stood not far behind the woman. He had changed into a clean short-sleeved shirt, and his hair was neatly combed, no longer bearing the hostile air he had when they first met.
He nodded to Lovene, and she nodded back, no words needed.
Soon, the crowd parted to make a path, and Harvey stepped forward from the back.
He had changed into a new set of clothes, and his entire demeanor was completely different from a few days ago. The gloom and hostility on his face had vanished, replaced by a touch of brightness.
He finally looked somewhat like a village chief.
Seeing this, Lovene's eyes dimmed slightly as she said,
“I'm sorry.”
The morning breeze blew past, and a drop of dew slid from the bouquet, dripping onto the back of her hand.
Harvey froze, looking utterly bewildered.
“...Lady Saintess, why are you apologizing? I am the one who should apologize. I've done so many wrong things...”
Lovene shook her head gently.
“Because this is all I can do.”
She looked down at the bouquet in her hands, its petals trembling slightly in the wind.
“I saved your lives, but... I cannot change the church's oppression over you. I can do nothing about the taxes and the grain quotas.”
“All I can do is keep you alive. Alive... to suffer.”
Harvey was stunned.
The villagers behind him also fell silent, and many of their gazes darkened. Of course, they all knew these truths.
No one knew the church's true face better than they did, but hearing it from Lovene's mouth carried a different weight.
She was a member of the church, yet she acknowledged its evils. She did not make excuses for the church, nor did she say “the church will get better.” She simply and candidly spoke the truth that they had never dared to face.
Harvey remained silent for a long time, and then he smiled.
“Lady Saintess, do you know? You are the first person from the Church of the Morning Light to ever say ‘I'm sorry’ to us.”
His voice was slightly raspy.
“The priests before only ever said ‘this is the Pope's grace’ or ‘you must be grateful.’ You are different. You saved us, yet you still feel it isn't enough.”
He took a step forward, squaring his shoulders.
“But you are wrong. What you gave us isn't just ‘staying alive.’ It is a ‘future full of hope.’ Except this hope wasn't given to us by the church, but by you.”
Lovene looked into his eyes. On that face which had once been filled with malice, there was now only a light of absolute conviction.
“So, please do not apologize.” Harvey lowered his head. “We are the ones who should thank you.”
He glanced back at the villagers behind him. The lame old man nodded vigorously, the woman held Alvina tighter, and the hunter clenched his fists, but did not let go.
Hearing this, Lovene gave a sweet smile.
“Then, let's make a promise.”
She extended her pinky finger.
Harvey froze once again.
“Pinky swear,” Lovene said, tilting her head.
“You must survive. No matter how hard it gets, survive. I promise you, one day, I will make the church what it is truly meant to be—not a church that oppresses you, but one that protects you.”
Looking at the bandage-wrapped pinky extended toward him, Harvey's eyes suddenly grew red. He raised his hand and hooked his own pinky around that pale, slender finger.
“Pinky swear.”
He nodded vigorously.
“We will wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”
Alvina broke free from her mother's embrace and ran over, extending her own pinky to hook onto theirs.
“I want to pinky swear too!”
Lovene smiled, Harvey smiled as well, and the lame old man turned around, secretly wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
Standing by the carriage, Mia watched this scene, her lips curling up slightly. Clement lifted the carriage curtain, took a glance, and let it fall back down.
The morning light spilled down, making everyone's smiling faces look even brighter.
Afterward, Lovene boarded the carriage, with Mia sitting beside her. The carriage slowly set off, its wheels grinding over the muddy road with a creaking sound.
Behind them, the villagers stood at the entrance of the village, watching until the carriage vanished into the morning mist.
Alvina waved her hand and shouted loudly,
“Lady Saintess! Next time you come, I'll give you an even bigger bouquet of flowers!”
The wind carried her voice far away. Lovene lifted the window curtain and waved back with a smile. The loose petals from her bouquet drifted into the air, presenting an indescribably beautiful sight.
After a long time, the carriage completely left the village behind, and everything fell silent.
Inside the carriage, Lovene looked down at the golden wildflowers in her hands, seemingly lost in thought. Then, she pressed the flowers to her chest and closed her eyes.
Clement leaned against the window. He looked down at the wildflowers, whose petals had already begun to wilt slightly, a few having fallen onto her holy robes.
“It's not very convenient to keep carrying those flowers around. Why not just throw them away? It's not like they can see you anymore anyway.”
He spoke very casually, as if it were an offhand remark. However, his gaze shifted from the bouquet to Lovene's face, carrying a trace of subtle scrutiny.
Lovene opened her eyes and gently smoothed out a curled petal with her finger, her touch incredibly tender.
“This is their goodwill. How could I treat it like that?”
With that, she gathered the bouquet closer to her chest, an involuntary smile gracing her face as if she had thought of something very happy.
“Once we arrive at the Oswell territory, I will find a vase to put them in.”
Clement said nothing more, but the admiration in the depths of his eyes grew even stronger.
Before long, silence returned to the carriage.
At this moment, Lovene spoke up. “By the way, can you tell us now what exactly you want us to do?”
Clement drew an emblem from the inner pocket of his coat. Carved upon it was a falcon with outspread wings, clutching a broken sword in its talons.
He rubbed his thumb against the worn-down edges of the emblem, as if reminiscing about something.
“Have you heard of Viscount Oswell?”
“No.”
“I suppose so. For those who are disadvantageous to the church, suppression is only to be expected.”
Clement's voice grew quieter, carrying a trace of mockery. It was unclear whether he was mocking the church or himself.
“The task I want you to perform is very simple: purify Viscount Oswell, Marcus.
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