This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

{Many will flock to the glory of the Saint.

Yet the Saint shall deny their divinity with their own words, for they see themselves as unworthy.

True grace is not learned from scriptures nor memorized verses but arises purely from the soul.

Thus, the Goddess shall remain silent to her chosen one.

The ignorant yet glorious incarnation of Grace shall come to you. The Saint shall deny and deny again with their lips, yet truly, truly, I say to you, when the Saint comes to you, you shall know it is them.}

– Scripture of Grace, Chapter 52, Verse 3. –

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"The false saint will claim to be Lilia's true saint."

High Priest Yodel answered with a look of utter disgust.

"It is written in the Grace Scripture that such a person would be ignorant and glorious. He would deny his own divinity. Even the Goddess Lilia would remain silent toward him. He would consider himself unworthy of being called a saint and, therefore, naturally deny his divinity."

"And if he claims to be the saint of the Lilia Church?"

"Then he is false. Nine times out of ten, he is a fraud sneaking in to steal the Church’s wealth. Do you know how easy it is to pretend to be a saint without divine marks? Over the past months, the southern region has seen at least one self-proclaimed saint per month. All of them ended as ashes in the pyre."

Yodel let out a dry chuckle.

"The Lilia Church is one of the wealthiest in the Empire. Nearly everyone in the southern regions believes in the Goddess of Grace. If someone were a false saint, he wouldn’t be able to resist such temptation. Anyone coveting our wealth would never deny his divinity. He would do everything to present himself as a saint."

Yodel addressed the representatives of the 23 sects as if making a proclamation.

"He has likely never spoken with the Goddess. It’s only natural that he wouldn’t possess divine power. He probably hasn’t even read a single line of the Grace Scripture. Ignorance is expected. However, undeniable glory will always surround him. You will see it when you look at him. I am certain he is the true Grace Saint."

"Understood. In two months, when the trial is held, we will see whether he denies or acknowledges his divinity."

The conversation ended.

***

“Graceful Lilia is alive! Ahhh! O Saint!”

“O Saint!”

I was utterly bewildered as I watched members of the Lilia Church kneeling, weeping, and wailing in devotion, while the judge smirked.

What the hell is this atmosphere?

I laid everything bare!

I told them the whole truth!

I confessed it all!

Shouldn’t they be throwing me into the underground prison now?

"We shall proceed to the second trial."

What second trial? What is this nonsense?!

Wasn't I supposed to fail the first trial?

"Will the trial continue, Your Honor? I am not a saint."

"As expected, Jericho Amayel. We shall proceed to the next trial."

"No! I mean it—I’m not a saint. Shouldn’t that be the end of the matter? I impersonated a saint. Please, throw me into the underground prison."

"That’s not possible. Your actions align perfectly with the Grace Scripture. On to the next trial."

Are you out of your mind?!

I’m not a saint!

I’m not!

Why the hell are you all crying now?!

What the hell is this twisted nonsense?!

"For the second trial, we shall hear the testimonies of those around him. First, the living proof of a miracle: Witch Erfa from the Mars Branch Tower. Please stand."

The four-armed witch, Da’wan, rose gracefully, her enchanting features seemingly imbued with a natural charm spell. She wore a faint smile.

"Witch who walks the path of magic, do you believe this man to be the true saint?"

"I am certain. When I was broken, covered in filth on the streets, he embraced me. He kissed the grotesque, rotting left side of my face and healed me. Not for a single moment did he look at me with disgust. He told me to live. He healed not just my face and body but also my soul. He is undoubtedly a saint."

"Are you certain he didn’t deceive you with rudimentary magic, ancient spells, or dark sorcery to achieve this healing?"

"I am certain. What happened could only be classified as a miracle. There were no mana flows, no magical rearrangements. He simply placed his hand on me and healed me. It was absolutely not magic. It was a miracle."

"Please be seated. Next! Jonathan Karma, whose daughter was healed of necrosis. Stand up!"

The old man, reminiscent of Scrooge, rose from his seat.

"Do you believe the man at the defendant's stand to be the true saint?"

"I do. When he healed my daughter and my family, we tested his miracles through every method imaginable. Dispel scrolls, wands that reveal magical principles, detection potions—we used them all. Yet, no trace of magic was found. No divine power either. Only the undeniable fact remained: we were healed."

Jonathan, his eyes glistening with tears, turned to me and cried out.

"He is the true saint. Only a miracle could have made it possible."

"Grace and Lilia!"@@novelbin@@

The Grace Church members erupted in fervent shouts again.

My face was growing visibly pale by the second.

No.

I am not a saint.

I’m not.

Please...

"High Priest Yodel, bring forth the healed children!"

"With pleasure!"

The 15 matchstick girls I had saved from the slums rose in unison at Yodel’s gesture.

The judge looked at them and asked, "What do you think? Is that man a saint?"

"No! That man is not a saint!"

Finally! The answer I was waiting for!

"He healed us while saying he was merely serving the lowly. After that, he healed me and all my friends! He didn’t even ask for money! We’re so grateful! Now Grandpa Yodel is taking care of us! We’re learning to read, getting allowances—"

"And delicious food!"

"I’m so thankful to him!"

The children’s voices rose in harmony, and the judge nodded.

"By all accounts, he is a saint."

The priests of the Lilia Church also nodded in agreement.

"It’s certain! He’s a saint!"

"We swear upon our faith! That man is indeed the saint!"

The general sentiment among the crowd aligned.

No!

No, dammit!

My heresy trial!

My underground prison!

"Finally, we shall summon those who knew Jericho Amayel in his childhood. Bring them forth!"

At the judge's command, priests of the Silent Order, clad in black masks and robes, escorted a group of people into the courtroom.

The faces were familiar. They were my old neighbors, people I often saw in my hometown.

"What do you think of the man in the defendant’s seat, Jericho Amayel? Is he truly a saint?"

At the judge's question, they began to speak, one by one.

"A saint? I've never seen him attend the Grace Church. But he was a good boy. Always polite and greeted people respectfully. His parents, though, they were a bit unpleasant."

It was the vegetable shop lady, the one I used to buy produce from occasionally.

"Yes, his parents were unpleasant. Vain and extravagant. But Amayel? No, he wasn’t like them. He always cleaned the house, cooked for the family, and took care of things himself. I saw it all with my own eyes. He might not be a saint, but he was a good kid."

This was from the overweight man next door who used to sing every morning.

"One day, he suddenly said it was his last day working and took his wages before disappearing. I found it a bit rude at the time, but now it seems he was called by the Goddess to heal the weak. I never thought of him as a saint... but he was a good person. Hardworking too."

That was the restaurant owner I worked for briefly after my parents passed away.

The judge didn’t even seem to consider it further before making his declaration.

"I deem the second trial passed!"

No!

No, please!

Just admit I falsely claimed to be a saint!

Didn’t I just say it myself?!

I exposed everything!

How is this happening?!

"We shall now begin the third and final trial."

The judge openly smiled now.

He stood from his seat.

"To conclude, the man in the defendant’s seat, Jericho Amayel, has already passed the third trial. He is a saint."

Excuse me???

What do you mean the trial ended before it even started?

The judge, still smiling, slowly put on a mask and addressed me in a voice I recognized.

"Two months ago, do you remember the priest of the Silent Order who stood before your prison, Saint? He pleaded for his sick daughter, begging for your healing."

Oh, I remember!

I remember that!

At that time, I definitely—

"You told me, in exchange for healing the child, to testify that you had no divine power and were not a saint. And then you healed her. To confess to everyone here, that was a lie."

The judge removed his mask once more.

"That child was not my daughter. She was a victim the demon worshippers had cursed, intending to sacrifice her heart as an offering. If you were a false saint, a mere fraud, or a servant of a dark god, the curse would have transferred to you the moment you touched her. Curses act upon greed and dark desires."

The judge looked at me with satisfaction, even admiration, before bowing his head.

"But the curse didn’t take hold of you. Instead, I witnessed it dissolve at your fingertips. You healed her with pure intent and goodwill. In that moment, I was convinced—you are truly a saint."

No!

"But you promised! You said you’d testify that I wasn’t a saint! Please, keep your promise! I’m not a saint! I’m really not—"

"As the leader of the Silent Order and a servant of Le-Neril, the god of darkness and secrets, I solemnly declare: the man before us is indeed a saint! He has passed our Church’s most secretive trial, proven himself through countless testimonies, and lived in a manner directly aligning with the Grace Scripture. There can be no doubt!"

"Wait! No! I’m not a saint! I’m really not!"

"The High Priest of the Sun Church, the servant of the God of Justice, Lophus—Alois! The High Priest of the Grace Church, servant of the Goddess Lilia—Yodel! And I, High Priest of the Silent Order, servant of Le-Neril, the god of darkness and secrets—Gerson! We stake our faith and honor to proclaim this truth!"

The judge shouted triumphantly.

"The Pantheon hereby acknowledges Jericho Amayel as the first Healing Saint to emerge since the founding of the Grace Church, and the first saint to appear in 300 years!"

"Long live the Saint!"

"Graceful Goddess Lilia!"

Thunderous cheers erupted.

"If anyone in the Senate, the Supreme Court, or the Mage Tower objects, speak now."

As the judge spoke, senators from the Senate rose, clapping.

"The Senate welcomes the new saint."

The Supreme Court judges also stood, applauding.

"The Supreme Court respects the Pantheon’s decision."

Lastly, witches and mages from the Mage Tower rose.

"Those who walk the path of magic welcome the new sain—"

"No!"

The sharp scream tore through the air, silencing the applause and cheers. Everyone turned to look at the witch, Tuidel.

For the first time, hope lit up my face.

Yes!

Tuidel!

You’re on my side, right?! You’ll testify that I’m not a saint!

"That man is an abomination! He’s a worshipper of dark gods plotting to lead the Empire to its doom! I’m certain of it!"

…What?

A dark god worshipper? That’s not right.

"Records exist in the Mage Tower of someone who deceives and seduces people in ways neither divine nor magical. He’s a dark god worshipper! I’m sure of it! That’s why he could cure the abomination cursed by demons! He will bring destruction to the Empire! He is not a saint!"

Tuidel’s voice silenced the crowd. The applause and cheers dissipated, replaced by an oppressive tension that settled over the courtroom.