Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired – Chapter 35

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“Of course. He’s the only one I serve…”

I ignored her as she extolled the virtues of that bastard, struggling to contain my rage.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, drawing blood.

I gritted my teeth, the pressure building, a cracking sound echoing in my ears, but I ignored it.

My heart pounded, blood rushing through my veins.

My mind screamed for calm, but my body thrummed with barely contained fury.

Hildegarde, sensing my distress, stopped her praise and approached me.

“…Are you alright? Your hands…”

A calming wave of holy power washed over me, stemming the flow of blood, soothing the wounds.

I’d never had a problem with holy power itself. It originated from that bastard, but it was wielded by others, by those who sought to heal and help. I’d felt a slight aversion to it, but I’d never reacted like this.

But I was necessary? To protect Their messenger?

And she’d said it so casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if I were obligated to help.

The thought disgusted me.

Even the holy power healing me felt tainted, like Their will being imposed upon me. As if I were a tool to be repaired.

A wave of nausea washed over me, my skin crawling. I pushed her away, tearing at the newly healed wounds, ripping open the stitches, the flesh beneath, the throbbing pain a distant echo, the cold steel a welcome distraction.

I needed to get rid of this foul energy, this taint. I cut deeper, hoping to purge myself of Their holy power.

“W… Wait! Why… why are you doing this?!”

I ignored the horrified gasps around me.

I cut again, and again, and again, five times in total, when hands grabbed my wrists. Several hands.

I tried to shake them off, to sever my arm completely, when—

“Calm down!”

“What’s wrong with you?!”

“Jenison, stop!”

Albert and Lianna held me back, their faces etched with concern. Hildegarde resumed her healing, her brow furrowed in worry.

The princess stood frozen, her face pale, while Isabella rushed towards me, her eyes wide with fear.

The whispers of the other students grew louder as they stared at the blood dripping from my hand.

Normally, I’d avoid their gaze, but I couldn’t focus on them now. The holy power flowing into me, it felt… disgusting.

“Stop it!”

My own voice, raw and ragged, like a wounded animal’s desperate cry.

Hildegarde froze, her eyes wide with shock and hurt. Albert and Lianna loosened their grip.

“Why… why…?”

“Huff… huff…”

She stammered, her lips trembling. I ignored her and started sawing at my arm.

Grind—Grind—

The blade snagged on the bone, but I persisted, sawing back and forth until my arm came off, a mangled mess of flesh and bone.

The pain was excruciating, but a strange sense of relief washed over me.

“Aaaaagh!!”

“His… his arm!”

The other students screamed, but I ignored them and willed a new arm to grow, the flesh knitting itself together, the bones reforming.

Hildegarde and the other students watched in stunned silence.

“Saint.”

“Y… Yes?!”

She looked at me, startled, her face a mixture of confusion and fear.

I ignored her fear and spoke, my voice low and steady.

“Don’t use holy power on me again.”

“B… But…!”

“Don’t.”

I glared at her, and she finally nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly.

I calmed down and looked around. Everyone was staring at me, their expressions a mixture of confusion, fear, and disgust.

I sighed and turned back to Hildegarde, who still looked bewildered. She’d been trying to help, so my reaction must have seemed strange.

“Saint.”

“…Yes?”

“Can you speak to… Them?”

It was a crucial question. If she could communicate with that bastard, it meant there was a connection between this world and the divine realm. It meant there was a chance I could meet Them.

I didn’t know what I’d do if I met Them, but I wanted to hear Their explanation. Why? Why had They done this to me?

I’d probably try to kill Them.

“…I can’t… He’s the one who speaks to me…”

“But you can answer Them, can’t you?”

“Yes…”

Then it would work. For some reason, They valued her, They needed me to protect her. If I refused to help, she’d die.

This was my chance. For the first time, I had leverage.

“Saint.”

“…?”

“Tell Them something for me.”

“…What?”

“Tell Them I want to meet Them after this is over.”

The other students, including Lianna and Albert, stared at me in disbelief.

“W… Wait! Do you even realize what you’re…!”

“And what did They say?”

“No! I mean… that’s… …Huh?”

She’d gotten a response. Judging by her stunned expression…

“W… What… wait…”

“So… what did They say?”

“They… They agreed…”

Lianna, Albert, the princess, and even the other students gasped.

It was a momentous occasion. Even the Pope, the head of the church, hadn’t met the Goddess. They were a being of myth, a legend.

And I, a mere commoner, was going to meet Them.

It could be interpreted as divine favor, or, in the worst-case scenario, it could lead to me being declared a saint. Sainthood came with immense power and privilege.

But I didn’t care about any of that. I just wanted to meet Them.

A wide grin spread across my face, a twisted, almost manic expression.

“…Jenison… are you okay?”

“Are you alright…?”

Lianna and Albert, their faces etched with concern, looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. My self-inflicted injury and manic grin had unnerved them.

I smiled reassuringly, but their expressions, and the expressions of everyone around us, only darkened.

“Isabella. Can you cast…?”

“Yes… I can…”

Albert whispered something to Isabella, and she began casting a spell.

Intricate mana circuits formed in the air, glowing with a soft blue light. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me, my eyelids growing heavy.

I suspected a trap and fought to stay awake, but the drowsiness was overwhelming. I succumbed to the darkness.

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“So… what happened, Saint?”

“…”

“What did you do to him?!”

‘I don’t know! I swear!’

Hildegarde felt a surge of frustration. She’d only been trying to help!

Her purpose, as the Saint, was to heal, to save. It was her destiny, the reason she’d been chosen.

She’d healed countless people, even those she’d rather not have.

A middle-aged man who’d raped a young girl. A teenager who’d beaten and robbed a child. A woman who’d abused her own children and cheated on her husband.

But they were all the Goddess’ creations, deserving of salvation, regardless of their sins. She couldn’t discriminate. She had to heal them all.

So she’d healed him.

And he’d reacted as if she’d offered him something repulsive, tearing open the wound she’d just healed.

She’d been shocked, and she’d tried to heal him again, but he’d ripped off his own arm and thrown it to the ground.

Then, a new arm had sprouted from his shoulder, his face contorted in rage.

Why? What had she done? He’d accepted her healing in the infirmary.

She could have tolerated even that.

But his next request had been… blasphemous.

He wanted to meet the Goddess? The being she, and even the Pope, had never met?

He showed no signs of faith, only resentment, even hatred, towards the Goddess. And he expected to meet Them? A being even the most devout followers had never seen?

She’d been stunned, then she’d tried to rebuke him, to tell him that mere mortals couldn’t just demand an audience with the Goddess.

She would have, if not for the voice that echoed in her mind.

[…Yes… tell him I’ll meet him…]

A voice that filled her with awe, a voice every devout follower longed to hear.

He’d agreed.

She’d been so shocked that her body had frozen, but her mouth had spoken the words,

“They… They agreed…”

And his face had lit up with a terrifying grin, his eyes, however, remaining cold and still, like a stagnant pool, a disturbing contrast to his twisted smile. He looked like a broken doll mimicking human emotions.

It had unnerved everyone, and when his expression became even more distorted, Isabella had cast a sleeping spell on him.

She was still trying to comprehend the Goddess’ will, and Albert’s insistent questioning only made things worse.

“I didn’t do anything, Brother Albert…”

“…Then why did he react like that, Saint?”

‘I don’t know!! I swear!!’

She wanted to scream. She hated him a little bit more now, the man who slept peacefully while she struggled to understand.

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