Volume 1 Chapter 149.3

Volume 1 + Chapter 149.3: Important Information

Mira could not help but knit her brows slightly, her face full of displeasure. She was most afraid of small insects—especially ants. Seeing them packed together in dense swarms made her instinctively feel disgusted.

“Leah… I do support you buying a house, but I still feel I need to say a few things.”

Mira’s tone carried a hint of worry. Looking at Leah, who seemed almost indifferent to her surroundings, she couldn’t help but caution her: “A place like this… you really should have someone clean it thoroughly before moving in. It’s been vacant for so long—no one knows what it’s like inside anymore. And besides, they say a witch once lived here. If you’re really going to stay here, I think it’s better to be cautious.”

She paused, as if choosing her words carefully, then continued, “I know a few people in the church. Maybe we could ask them to conduct an exorcism. After all, things related to witches… they’re often associated with bad omens. If bad luck clings to us, we’ll be the ones suffering.”

Mira’s understanding of witches was no different from that of most people.

From childhood onward, she had been taught that witches were irredeemably evil, guilty of heinous crimes.

The disasters caused by witches throughout history had long become common knowledge. Fear and hatred toward witches had taken deep root in people’s hearts.

Despite this, Leah did not grow angry at Mira’s words. She knew Mira was only speaking out of concern, after all—Mira was the kind of person who spoke her mind plainly and harbored no hidden motives.

Still, Leah knew she could not explain that witches were not all evil, nor could she mention how Eve had guided her, or how she had silently helped her grow from the shadows.

She had to keep Eve’s secret. And Leah also felt that no one would believe that a witch so deeply misunderstood by the world had once done such selfless things.

In fact, Leah could even say that much of what she had achieved today was thanks to Eve’s guidance and support.

“It’s fine. I’ll go take a look at the rooms first.”

Leah smiled lightly, her tone relaxed. She quickly ran upstairs to the second-floor bedroom, her steps light and confident, as though she were already familiar with everything here.

Watching her smooth, practiced movements from downstairs, Mira couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Her gaze swept the surroundings with complexity. She wondered—why did Leah act as if she had lived here before?

But this was once a witch’s residence… How could it possibly have anything to do with Leah? Doubts filled Mira’s mind, yet she had no way to ask.

“Leah… hey, Leah!”

Mira called out helplessly a few times. Seeing Leah already disappear upstairs without hesitation, she could only brace herself and follow.

The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, almost without a single patch of clean ground. Mira stepped carefully, afraid of stepping on something she shouldn’t.

She usually wore high heels, walking with elegance and composure, but in this dirt- and weed-filled place, they seemed utterly out of place. Every step had to be taken with extreme caution, like walking a tightrope.

She didn’t dare simply take off her shoes and walk barefoot either. The thought of stepping on an insect made her uneasy.

Mira was most afraid of small creatures—especially those crawling insects with irregular movements.

More importantly, she was wearing her favorite pair of stockings today—delicate and comfortable. If they got dirty from stepping on something unpleasant, it would be a terrible loss.

She glanced down at the exquisite stockings and sighed softly, becoming even more careful with her steps.

…………

“You must be more careful in the future. Even as a church Saintess, you cannot use magic freely on the street.”

The Imperial Tribunal knight spoke sternly, though his tone carried a trace of helplessness. He looked at Vivian before him, a hint of difficulty flickering in his eyes.

“However, considering that you were acting in self-defense and that His Holiness the Pope personally intervened on your behalf—we will not pursue charges this time.”

He paused briefly, lowering his gaze to the letter in his hand, his brows furrowing, before continuing, “That said, there still must be some form of punishment. After all, you are responsible for the damages to the destroyed shop.”

The knight pulled an official document from his robes, spread it across the table, and pointed to a number written on it. “Twenty gold coins. Pay this, and you may leave.”

His tone brooked no argument.

“If you encounter harassment again in the future, it would be best to seek help from the Imperial Tribunal. This is not something you should handle on your own.”

As he spoke, he glanced down again at the letter from the highest ranks of the church, looking faintly awkward.

To be honest, as a low-ranking knight, he had never imagined he would receive a letter of this caliber. Handling an incident involving such an important figure was a first in his career, and it left him more than a little unsettled.

The letter bore the Pope’s personal signature. It was extremely polite and respectful, even expressing praise for the Tribunal’s work, but its core message was unmistakably clear: retrieve her.

There was no unnecessary verbosity, no embellishment. It stated plainly that every possible effort should be made to absolve this young Saintess of all wrongdoing.

Whether she struck someone, openly used magic, caused damage to shops, or frightened the commercial district—every seemingly serious offense was framed as “unavoidable self-defense.”

From between the lines of the handwritten letter, it was clear that the Pope saw nothing unforgivable in the matter. On the contrary, he repeatedly emphasized her instinctive right to defend herself.

In truth, nearly all responsibility was skillfully shifted onto Long Aotian—the man beaten half to death—a living scapegoat.

Even witnesses to the incident had little choice, but to tacitly accept this outcome.

The Imperial Tribunal found itself helpless. Though it was not directly subordinate to the church, a letter from the Pope himself carried undeniable authority.

Not to mention that church representatives were waiting right outside, placing subtle pressure on the Tribunal knights.

Legally speaking, they should have handled Vivian strictly according to procedure, but papal intervention complicated everything.

In fact, the truth of the incident was quite simple.

Long Aotian was clearly at fault. His relentless harassment and refusal to leave Vivian alone had forced her hand, compelling her to use magic.

For a Saintess to instinctively act in self-defense under such circumstances was understandable.

With the church’s backing, the Tribunal could not impose severe punishment on Vivian.

Thus, nearly all penalties were shifted onto Long Aotian, while Vivian only needed to compensate for property damage.

Under normal circumstances, openly using magic in the street—without the cover of self-defense—could have resulted in at least a month of imprisonment under imperial law.

Prison was not a place just anyone could endure, especially not someone as delicate as Vivian. Three days inside would probably be enough to break her.

Though she appeared calm on the surface, she knew very well that she was not suited for such a place.

“Thank you.”

Vivian nodded faintly, her voice barely audible. Perhaps she was thanking the Tribunal knights who helped resolve the trouble—or perhaps she herself wasn’t sure whom she was thanking.

She had originally planned to use the hard-earned money she had saved to buy a suitable house.

But now, nearly half of it has been taken to pay for damages. Buying a house was no longer possible, and only a small sum remained. A wave of disappointment rose in her heart.

She signed the documents, paid the fine, and then had the restraints on her wrists removed. The moment the cold metal loosened, it felt as though some of the pressure on her heart eased as well.

Several female knights escorted her out. The cardinals waiting outside immediately stepped forward, their expressions respectful.

As soon as Vivian exited, the cardinals surrounded her, their voices gentle yet urgent—it was clear they had come specifically to retrieve her.

“Your Holiness has important news to convey to you, Saintess. Let us speak elsewhere.”

One of the cardinals spoke softly, glancing toward the bustling crowd outside the Tribunal with caution. This was not something to be discussed in front of imperial authorities—the relationship between church and empire was too delicate.

Vivian lowered her head slightly, her hands tightening as she suppressed her tangled emotions.

“What is it?” she asked quietly. “I’ve already caused trouble for the church today… I’m sorry to have troubled His Holiness.”

Her voice was filled with apology, but also exhaustion and helplessness.

Once, she had been radiant and revered as a Saintess. After everything she had endured today, that former pride and confidence were long gone.

In her lowered gaze lingered a trace of sorrow and bitterness, emotions spreading like silent ripples, nearly swallowing her remaining strength.

Her former glory faded like distant smoke, leaving behind only an empty echo.

At this moment, she felt hollow inside, as though nothing held meaning anymore. Her eyes seemed unfocused, lifeless from beginning to end.

Even the Tribunal knights conducting the interrogation had felt awkward, casting her pitying glances and finding her pitiable.

Yet this depth of emotion was not an act.

Vivian knew all too well that Long Aotian’s cruel words had pierced her heart like sharp blades.

They echoed endlessly within her, pressing down on her like an invisible burden, leaving her unable to breathe.

So what if she was a Saintess?

She was still just a child without a mother’s love.

Once, she had a warm home and a loving mother, but all of it had vanished with her mother’s departure.

Worse still, she herself had been the one to end it all.

Only loneliness and emptiness remained, stirring unbearable pain in her heart.

The pitying looks and careless remarks from the Tribunal knights only made it worse.

She did not need sympathy. To her, it felt more like a silent weight, crushing her breath.

Especially at the beginning of the interrogation, when a few knights had spoken coldly and skeptically—until others reminded them that Vivian was an orphan and might be emotionally fragile.

Only then did their tone soften.

Each of these moments felt like cold knives stabbing into her chest, each one heavier than the last.

“His Holiness said this matter can be dealt with later. Right now, we have something more important.”

The cardinal’s voice was low and grave, her gaze deep, as though looking toward an uncertain future beyond Vivian.

“The Imperial Emperor may already be dead… our opportunity has arrived.”

The sudden revelation struck Vivian’s heart like a thunderclap. Her eyes widened in shock.

She did not immediately grasp its meaning—only that the words sounded strangely familiar, as though she had heard them somewhere earlier and dismissed them as a joke.

But seeing the solemn expressions of the cardinals, unease began to rise within her.

These were not people who made light of matters. If they were this serious, it could only mean something momentous.

If not for their expressions, she would have thought she misheard—an absurd joke at best.

“Don’t joke like that.”

Vivian frowned deeply, her tone filled with resistance and confusion. All day, the atmosphere in the empire had felt strange and unsettling.

She couldn’t describe it clearly—only that something felt different, as though an unseen force had altered the empire’s very air.

Especially… At that moment, her thoughts froze.

The next second, her eyes widened as a buried memory suddenly resurfaced.

She remembered the words—the Imperial Emperor may already be dead.

The source of those words became clear. When she had slapped Long Aotian, the last half-sentence he had spoken before being cut off had been exactly that.

Her mind churned. That seemingly casual remark was now tightly entwined with reality.

Has Long Aotian known all along?

“His Holiness intends to seize this opportunity to take control. The truth of the news is not yet confirmed, but the church has already begun to act.”

“The Pope’s thinking is simple—whether there’s fruit or not, you still strike the tree. And more importantly, His Holiness personally inquired into the Imperial Emperor’s foreign itinerary… and indeed, no news has returned for several hours now.”