Elise ran blindly.
The pitying gazes pouring down on her back, the whispers stabbing into her ears.
All of it felt like the grim reaper descending to harvest lives.
Her breath came up to her throat, but she couldn't stop.
The moment she did, it felt like the reaper following behind would swallow her whole.
"Ha... hngh..."
How long had she run?
Only when she reached a deserted corner behind the academy library, overgrown with ivy, did Elise collapse against the cold stone wall.
She didn't want to think about anything.
She wanted to throw it all away and fall into a coma-like sleep, never to wake again.
But her mind was clearer than ever.
"..."
Everything was over.
- 'How pathetic, Elise.'
Archbishop Balua's cold, stern voice echoed clearly in her ears.
Her classmates' pitying, disappointed expressions.
All of it lingered before her eyes like afterimages.
"Ngh..."
Her lips trembled. A high-pitched ringing filled her ears.
Her vision blurred. Tears welled up, but they wouldn't fall.
It was as if a thick rock had lodged in her throat—she couldn't breathe properly.
Clutching her chest, Elise took deep breaths for a while.
"...This is the worst. Really... the absolute worst..."
She had been scolded in front of everyone.
It wasn't a task she could have possibly succeeded at in the first place. Archbishop Balua had prepared an impossible test just to humiliate her, as a form of shock therapy.
Like a fool, oblivious to it all—like a naive child ignorant of the world—Elise had whittled away at her body in training, clinging to the stupid hope that she might earn praise.
If only she'd known it was all futile...
"Pathetic... really..."
She had been reprimanded in front of others many times before, but this was the first time she'd been humiliated in front of the entire student body.
The moment she heard the archbishop's words, her face burned.
She was so aggrieved that the slightest touch would have made tears spill.
A little more time passed, and instead, she grew detached.
The instinct that it was already too far gone—that despair—naturally calmed her down.
She had bolted from her seat simply because she didn't want to hear any more.
"Ha, haha... ha..."
She laughed bitterly.
All her efforts, the small hopes she'd harbored—they had betrayed her in the worst possible way.
She had striven to be perfect.
For her family's honor, for the church's expectations, she had flailed to become someone worthy of the title of saintess.
She had studied the quotes of saintesses from past holy wars, admired their lives, and tried to emulate them.
"As expected... I'm no saintess."
In the end, Elise was just an ordinary person who couldn't even reach the heels of the saintesses in history.
Of course, she had known that.
She knew, but she had tried anyway.
Elise prided herself on working harder than anyone else.
To maintain her top rank in her year, she pulled all-nighters studying diligently. To never show a moment of disarray, she pushed herself to the brink of death.
She breathed the chilly dawn air and opened the prayer room doors earlier than anyone. She copied prayer texts until her fingers stiffened and wouldn't straighten. Even when she caught a cold, she never missed a day.
She controlled her diet to manage her figure and groomed her appearance. She projected a flawless self in every step, leaving no room for criticism.
"I thought... if I worked hard... someone would notice..."
And this was the result.
No one acknowledged her.
In the worst way, all that remained etched in their minds was her fleeing figure in front of everyone.
Elise was no longer an idol or anything of the sort.
She was just a laughingstock—a loser.
Her efforts had been denied.
She could never have been perfect to begin with.
Then...
"Then why did I...?"
...work so hard?
"..."
The question no one would hear slipped from her cracked lips.
She just felt stupid.
If only she hadn't tried so hard from the start.
If only she hadn't forced herself to fit the world's ideal image...
- 'Obsessing over perfection can sometimes be unhealthy.'
Suddenly, that chapel came to mind.
He was right.
Elise realized that the priest's words from the confessional weren't wrong at all.
What would that priest say if he saw her in this pathetic state?
Would he offer advice again?
The sense of liberation she'd felt just days ago was her one remaining joy...
Thud, thud.
With half-lidded eyes and staggering steps, Elise turned her feet toward the dilapidated chapel.
The sun had long set.
The chapel's lights were all out.
No signs of life.
It was a desperate grasp at straws.
Creeeak.
She opened the confessional door and stepped in.
Then, softly, to whoever might be on the other side of the partition:
"Priest."
She just wanted someone—anyone—to affirm her.
"Everything... has fallen apart..."
That was her only thought.
*
The creaking noise made me close the book I was reading.
"Who the hell is it, at this hour."
This damn building had zero soundproofing.
A single mouse scurrying by echoed all the way to the attic.
Not to mention the heavy chapel doors.
"Haa..."
I let out a small sigh.
Someone had definitely come, but I had no idea who.
Clack, clack.
It wasn't Priest Lowen. That guy always stomped around loudly like the good soul he was.
Not a thief either. What was there worth stealing in this rundown chapel?
I carefully climbed down the attic ladder to the first floor. The small confessional door, which should have been open, was now closed.
"...Tch."
My guest was a parishioner here for confession.
At this time of night, no less. How rude.
'No helping it.'
This was my job, after all.
I sat down very quietly in the seat opposite.
From beyond the partition came the faint scent of lilies and ragged breathing. Had she run all the way here?
I waited silently for her to speak.
"Priest."
I recognized the voice.
It was the woman who had come to me for confession just ten days ago.
What could bring her back this time?
The moment I thought that, she continued.
"Everything... has fallen apart..."
A voice laced with bitter laughter.
I felt a sense of unease.
It was subtly different from last time.
Her throat was completely hoarse, mixed with a metallic rasp. It cracked precariously, like someone who had been holding back tears for days.
"Sister, what do you mean by 'fallen apart'?"
I asked cautiously.
"I... tried to follow your advice, Priest."
Advice.
I remembered.
I had told a perfectionist to enjoy some occasional deviations.
"Did that cause some problem?"
"No. Your advice was fine, Priest. The problem... was with me."
The girl beyond the partition spoke with a hollow laugh.
"I... did my absolute best. I truly gave it my all. Over the past week... no, my entire life up to now, I was never once lazy. And... I thought, really... that I'd improved just a little."
"..."
"But... it was all denied. My efforts meant nothing. It's... such a foolish story, isn't it..."
Her words were vague, so I couldn't grasp the full picture.
But I could tell she had suffered a major failure.
Experiences where effort doesn't yield results happen all the time.
"Priest... what should I do now? I've realized that everything I've done so far... was all for nothing."
Only resignation remained in her voice now.
"Can I... finally take the other path you told me about?"
I fell silent for a moment.
This was getting complicated.
'Other path...'
I had just meant something like 'try slacking off once in a while.'
But this girl seemed to have taken my words as a life-changing mantra.
Well, coming all the way to this remote confessional for counseling meant she was that desperate.
'She's completely lost it.'
Even in my past life, there were one or two like that around me.
The type who overinterpret others' words.
And those types were tricky to handle because one wrong move could push them toward extreme choices.
This was the academy, no less.
A place teeming with twenty-year-old kids whose mental growth hadn't caught up.
If I answered carelessly here, she might actually throw herself off a cliff.
'Alright. Calm her down first.'
I chose the safest, most non-committal, and most convincing-sounding words.
"Sister."
"...Yes."
"Your efforts weren't meaningless."
I heard her gulp from beyond the partition.
Before she could respond, I quickly continued.
"—Even if not now, everyone will recognize them someday. There's no predetermined path in this world. Every path becomes your own, depending on the one who walks it."
I had no idea what I was even saying.
But what could I do?
I had to satisfy her somehow and send her on her way.
"So, whatever choice you make is the right one. It's not for me to decide—it's yours."
In other words, figure it out yourself.
But the woman on the other side didn't reply for a long while.
I started getting anxious that I'd said something wrong.
"...Ha, haha."
A small laugh leaked out faintly.
Then, after a moment, a calm, clear voice came through.
"Thank you, Priest."
"Pardon?"
"Thanks to you... I realized what path I need to take. It's all because of you."
The rustle of clothing, then creeeak—the confessional door opened.
And then silence.
She left without a hint of lingering.
"Hmm..."
I stared blankly into the empty darkness beyond the partition, muttering to myself.
"One problem solved... I guess?"
However.
Why was this faint unease sprouting in a corner of my chest?
*
The month changed, and strange rumors started reaching my ears.
"I hear the Saintess Candidate hasn't been showing up to classes lately?"
"...What? Why?"
"No idea. The cathedral's in an uproar over it."
I scowled as I swept silently with the broom.
The Saintess Candidate refusing classes.
Was that an event from the original story...?