Sandel was still trying to figure out what Lulumiya wanted to do when he suddenly heard her puzzled voice.
He looked up to see Lulumiya, who had been holding a sheet of paper, now poking most of her head out from behind the white paper, blinking curiously in his direction.
He’d been found out.
The muscles in Sandel’s face twitched.
Only then did he realize that he’d been standing at the door for quite a while—if Lulumiya hadn’t noticed him by now, that would’ve been strange.
So he decided not to pretend anymore.
He straightened his back with the dignity of a Cardinal, clasped his hands behind him, and asked sternly.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m thinking about how to spread Lady Istelle’s teachings to more people. Are you interested too, Grandpa?”
With the sunlight at her back, Lulumiya flashed the innocent smile of a young girl.
Behind her, her dragon tail swayed happily, giving her the look of someone truly delighted.
Although she’d only just noticed there was someone at the door—having been absorbed in improving the printing press—that didn’t stop Lulumiya from adapting quickly to the situation.
Even though the old man before her had graying hair and a slightly stooped back, he carried an air of authority that made him intimidating without trying.
Having once been part of the workforce, Lulumiya could immediately tell that Sandel was someone important.
This old man was just like the veteran cadres she’d seen before; even without a uniform, just by talking, he exuded an unmistakable aura of command.
It was a temperament that only long-time leaders developed.
She had no idea why he was here, but deploying the adorable innocence of a ten-year-old girl as her weapon couldn’t go wrong—after all, who would suspect a child under ten of having schemes?
“What did you call me?”
“Grandpa,” Lulumiya froze for a moment, then, like a child caught misbehaving, hunched her shoulders, lowered her eyes, and showed a hint of timidity.
“I… I shouldn’t call you that…? I just arrived here and don’t know all the rules. I’m sorry…”
“Haha, call me Grandpa then. It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me that. I almost forgot how old I am.”
Laughing heartily, the stern aura in Sandel’s eyes faded considerably, and even his straight-backed posture relaxed a little.
Seeing that he didn’t mind, Lulumiya pressed her advantage.
“Grandpa, don’t just stand there. Come inside and have a seat.”
She quickly put down her paper and welcomed Sandel inside.
Sandel didn’t stand on ceremony and followed Lulumiya in.
As he watched the girl obediently pour him a glass of water, he picked up the white paper Lulumiya had left on the table—the product of her recent printing.
He set his monocle into place and browsed under the morning light.
It really was the doctrine of Istelle’s faith, but only the first page; the back was blank.
The handwriting on the doctrine was neat, but not beautiful, and some of the spacing between characters was uneven.
Sandel, accustomed to elegant script, couldn’t help but frown.
Noticing Sandel’s displeasure, Lulumiya handed him the water and, in a childish, soft voice, asked,
“Grandpa doesn’t seem happy?”
“…Did you write these characters?”
“No, I asked someone to carve the letters, then printed them on paper. That’s how you ended up with what you’re holding, Grandpa.”
Lulumiya paused, then pressed her forefinger to her chin, pouting in distress.
“Printing the Scripture on parchment is way too expensive. Just one book costs several gold coins. If I had to rely on saving my allowance, I don’t know how many years it would take before I could have a Scripture of my own. Lady Istelle definitely wouldn’t forgive my laziness.”
“So I thought I’d make one myself. That way, in my dreams, Lady Istelle would surely praise me for my diligence. Grandpa, don’t you think so too?”
Looking at Lulumiya’s expectant, sparkling eyes, Sandel couldn’t bring himself to say “no.”
Compared to those wealthy adult believers who refused to buy Scripture, this penniless girl wanted to work hard to save up for one herself.
The difference was clear—even many Saint Sons couldn’t reach Lulumiya’s level.
For a moment, Sandel found the paper in his hands suddenly precious, and even the unattractive script looked beautiful.
Touched, he placed the sheet flat on the table and stroked Lulumiya’s head with emotion.
“Lady Istelle will never blame a diligent follower. Even if you don’t have a Scripture, Lady Istelle can still sense your devotion.”
Sandel glanced at the crude machine in the corner of the room and sighed deeply, “You’ve already done more than enough.”
“Really… But my handwriting is so ugly…”
“So what? Outward things can change. But once a sacred heart is tainted, it can never be pure again. Money can’t buy Lady Istelle’s favor, but a sincere heart can. Yours is even more genuine than a Saint Son’s—who would blame you?”
Looking at Lulumiya, who had placed both hands on his lap and was gazing at him with worshipful eyes, Sandel felt a pure emotion he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
As a teacher of Saint Sons, he’d seen too many hypocrites—people who only used the title “Saint Son” as a badge of honor.
He detested such formalism, but his lack of authority left him powerless.
So, when faced with someone truly sincere, he was especially generous and willing to give extra care.
The girl before him was just such a sincere soul—her heart was far purer than any Saint Son.
After thinking for a moment, he said kindly, “Until you have your own Scripture, I can lend you one. You can even hug it to sleep.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“What Grandpa gives me belongs to Grandpa, not me. Besides, I think I can help more people get their own Scripture.”
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
Sandel’s old but clear eyes widened.
Lulumiya looked down, then nervously glanced up at Sandel, carefully watching his reaction.
“You have to promise not to scold me after I tell you.”
No can do—I need to hear what you did first before I judge.
Sandel thought to himself, but spoke more tactfully.
“Let me hear what you have to say first.”
Old fox, acting so cautious with a little girl.
Lulumiya cursed inwardly, but outwardly she looked delighted to have tricked Sandel.
She clattered over and grabbed a few sheets of white paper, pulling Sandel’s sleeve over to the printing press.
“I mean this. This is the machine I invented—I call it a printing press. What Grandpa just held was printed by this. You just lay the paper here, press the trigger—hup!—and a sheet with the doctrine is produced.”
Lulumiya picked up a freshly printed page.
This time, Sandel witnessed up close as a blank sheet was filled with writing before his eyes, leaving him gaping in astonishment.
Lulumiya used tweezers to rearrange the movable type on the typesetting tray, proudly continuing,
“As long as we change the order of these wooden blocks, we can print the second page, third page of the doctrine. If we have a few more people helping—one to ink, one to lay paper, another to work the lever—the process becomes simple and fast. The price of the Scripture could be much lower, so even poor folks like me could afford to buy one and receive Lady Istelle’s blessing.”
“And everyone could use their Scripture to introduce Lady Istelle’s greatness to their friends and family, spreading the miracles of Lady Istelle even further.”
Lulumiya’s eyelashes fluttered with every blink.
She clasped her hands together and hopefully asked,
“What do you think, Grandpa?”
“Oh, ohhh…”
Sandel gulped, unable to respond for a moment.
Only when he saw Lulumiya’s dazzling starry eyes did he look away, coughing awkwardly.
“It’s really quite good, but it’s best not to talk about this yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re using ordinary white paper instead of parchment. It’s easily damaged, and using it to make Scripture—some in the Church might say it’s disrespectful to Lady Istelle. That’s a charge most people couldn’t bear.”
By the end, Sandel’s tone had grown stern with warning.
But in his heart, he was moved by Lulumiya’s words.
He imagined a future where every household owned a Scripture.
More importantly, making Scripture cheap would mean the Church’s influence would become even greater and spread further.
In this world, the Church wasn’t just for show—it wielded real Faith Magic, magic that only believers of the Goddess could use.
So, spreading knowledge wouldn’t threaten the Church’s position.
In fact, it would help more people learn about Faith Magic.
If the stories in Scripture—of the Goddess creating angels and saving humanity with Faith Magic—were spread far and wide, countless people might grow fond of the Church, with consequences beyond imagination.
Still, this was a serious matter.
Even Sandel dared not decide rashly.
He would have to prepare before reporting this up the chain.
As he’d told Lulumiya, details that seemed trivial to ordinary people could be intolerable to clergy.
He’d need to sound out the higher-ups first.
Lulumiya, meanwhile, was momentarily dazed.
She’d just wanted a backer to help her print newspapers and hadn’t realized there were so many obstacles to printing Scripture.
She could only ask hesitantly,
“So… can I still continue?”
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