In Saintson Sabano’s eyes, the Saintess had always been synonymous with nobility and purity.
She was well aware that within the Church there were many interests and collusions unrelated to faith, yet the Saintess had always shone so brilliantly and held such sanctity.
And she had never once thought to associate the Saintess with the so-called Demon Clan.
Now, Saint Cecilia appeared no different from when she had been the Saintess.
If there was one thing different, it seemed she carried a scent that made people feel closer to her.
“What would Lord Cecilia like to drink today?”
While Saintson was quietly observing this former Saintess, Cecilia had already taken a seat beside her.
In response to the Boss’s familiar inquiry, she pointed to the small signboard behind, where the drinks were listed: “I’ll have the usual—a cup of hot honey milk. As for the Demon Lord’s order, let me see… a portion of caramel cookies and a cup of black coffee.”
The Saintess’s long hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, and the once radiant holiness was now replaced by an irresistible softness.
She smiled gently, quietly reading the note in her hand.
“Is the Demon Lord working around the clock again today?”
The Boss quickly retrieved the freshly baked caramel cookies from the cabinet behind, efficiently packed them in a bag, and then began preparing the honey milk.
“Yes. The Demon Lord has been tasked by the Demon King to quickly compile the current population of the city. Apparently, Saint Anso City may become a forward base for the Demon Clan’s occupation of humans.”
Cecilia leaned on the counter.
“Let me tell you, if that really happens, your café is going to be booming. A lot of troops will pass through Saint Anso City, and you’ll be selling coffee until your hands go numb.”
“Hahaha, Lady Cecilia, you’re joking. If this little shop of mine doesn’t shut down by then, I’d be grateful.”
The Boss smiled wryly.
Though the army led by Demon Lord Via maintained decent discipline, that didn’t mean all demons were reliable.
Most other demon troops were like a flock of wild geese: after flying over, only a few feathers would be left behind.
Selling coffee until your hands went numb?
One wrong move, and they’d chop you up just for kicks—and that would be considered lucky.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to protect you all. I believe she won’t let the demons entering Saint Anso City run wild.”
“By the way, how’s the supply situation in your district? Is it still enough?”
“The Demon Lord has already agreed to let me send a trade caravan out to buy a batch of cheese. If anyone here needs some, don’t forget to send me an application.”
“That would be a big help.”
The Boss turned and resumed busying himself with the orders.
Before long, a steaming cup of honey milk was placed in front of Cecilia, who held it in both hands and took small sips with satisfaction.
“Oh, by the way, miss, are you new to Saint Anso City?”
Cecilia glanced at Saintson and asked curiously.
“…Yes, Lady Saintess. I just returned here today. My teacher hopes I can gather some commercial information about the city so the trade caravan can sell you some of the urgently needed goods.”
Saintson was very familiar with this and had already memorized her identity details clearly, enabling her to respond smoothly.
“You know me?”
“Yeah. When I was traveling as a merchant with my teacher, I met you once. You probably don’t remember, but I remember clearly. I greeted you back then, and you blessed me.”
That was true.
When Saintson was studying with her teacher, she indeed received the Saintess’s blessing, although it was addressed to all the clergy in their group at the time.
“I see. How’s the Church over there now? After leaving the Church, I haven’t kept up with the details.”
“…Not good. I heard His Holiness the Pope is preparing to clash with the Vesi Empire. The Church has rallied several nations to jointly pressure the Vesi Empire. It’s unclear how His Majesty King Ruut will respond to the Church’s blockade. Now, the trade routes leading to the Vesi Empire have basically been sealed off by the Church.”
“It really is chaotic… Speaking of which, don’t you dislike me? I have now sworn allegiance to the Demon Clan, you know.”
“You worry too much. Although many don’t understand, as merchants, we weigh the pros and cons clearly. Most of us have to deal with the Church anyway. If anyone doesn’t trust the Church, it’s us. We understand why the Church persecutes you. I believe, sooner or later, you will be understood.”
Saintson said politely.
A key point of covert observation was that being too fake would expose you.
Nine parts truth and one part falsehood was what gave credibility.
Such seemingly flattering words might actually lower the other’s guard.
Merchants often spoke differently depending on who they were talking to—one moment flattering a person, the next moment wary of ghosts.
Sitting there, Cecilia looked at the young merchant with some emotion.
“I once thought no one among humans could understand me anymore…”
The Saintess’s eyes looked plaintive, as if about to shed tears.
“Oh… please don’t be sad. Although your situation isn’t as good as before, I believe Lady Saintess, you will return in the end. Besides, isn’t the Demon Lord still treating you well?”
“Treating me well…?”
Cecilia’s cheeks flushed slightly.
How to put it—it was true, but sometimes… the closeness was a bit too much.
For example, every so often, she had to “feed” in the same intimate way they had when they first met.
Though Via had been lenient and hadn’t gone all the way, honestly, being repeatedly teased to the point of desire only to have it stopped was really unpleasant.
She even suspected the succubus was doing it on purpose.
“Are you alright?”
Saintson looked at her with concern.
“Huh? Oh… I’m fine, perfectly fine.”
Cecilia realized her slip and quickly resumed her gentle older sister demeanor.
“By the way, since you’re a merchant, who is your teacher?”
“The former Saint Anso City merchant, his name is E—”
“Could it be Denoya?”
“Huh?”
Hearing her teacher’s name from the other’s mouth, Saintson froze in place.
According to her false identity, her teacher in commerce should have been Eran… yet the Saintess had said her real teacher’s name…
Cecilia smiled gently, raising a finger.
In an instant, a wave of power completely blocked their voices, so no one else could overhear their conversation.
The Saintess moved slightly closer to Saintson, narrowing the distance between them.
Saintson could even smell her clean fragrance.
Yet the Saintess’s whispered words left her no time to enjoy the pleasant scent:
“I remember every cardinal in the Church, and I have them all recorded in my heart.
With such a superficial disguise, you really think you can fool me?”
“Judicator, Saintson Sabano?”