The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness

Before coming here, Muen had already had Tyron investigate the place.

The Life Goddess was the Kingdom’s dominant faith, and the Church’s influence here far exceeded its influence in the Empire. To maintain that influence, the Church funded not only its usual religious activities, but also a large number of public institutions—orphanages, schools, shelters, and the like.

And this Sunshine Orphanage was one of those Church-funded facilities.

Yet despite being directly supported by the Church, and despite being located not all that far from the cathedral, the orphanage’s condition was nowhere near as comfortable as Muen had imagined.

The buildings were old, the facilities scarce, and even the open ground in the yard had been planted with crops. Its circumstances could only be described as difficult. So difficult that a strange “philanthropist” like Muen merely paying a visit—without even knowing whether he would donate or not—was enough to put the entire orphanage on edge, terrified of missing the opportunity.

“Your orphanage really doesn’t look like a place receiving Church support,” Muen said casually, as though it were nothing more than ordinary small talk.

“Well...”

But faced with that simple question, the old nun—who had been speaking so freely just moments ago—suddenly let her eyes drift away and gave a bitter smile.

“I suppose it’s because the Church has too many places to support. It’s normal for a little place like ours to be short on funds.”

“Is that so... not because of anything else?”

“What other reason could there be? I think you may be overthinking it, Mister Bruce.”

“...”

Muen frowned. He felt sure the old nun was hiding something. He was about to press the matter further when he suddenly heard a few voices whispering in lowered tones.

“Wow... so that’s the philanthropist? He doesn’t really look like a good person.”

“What are you saying? Mother Superior taught us before that we must never judge people by appearance.”

“Then do you think he’s handsome?”

“A Slav... not really my type, but when I think about how young and rich he is, I just...”

“...”

Muen turned his head and saw a few little faces poking out through the crack of a window on the other side, wide bright eyes fixed on him as they studied him closely.

They were wearing nuns’ habits, and when Muen met their eyes, they were not especially flustered. It was only when the old nun turned around too that they all gave a little yelp and scattered like startled birds.

But the girl leading them still stuck out her tongue playfully at the old nun before running off, clearly not all that afraid of this stern nun at all.

“They’re...?”

“Novice nuns,” the old nun replied, lowering her eyes, expressionless.

“I could tell they were novice nuns. I’m pretty familiar with Church uniforms, after all. I wouldn’t get them wrong even with my eyes closed. But...”

Muen stroked his chin, choosing his words carefully.

“Don’t they feel a little out of place?”

What Muen meant was not that there was something wrong with those girls themselves. Rather, in an orphanage this shabby, poor, and strained, the novice nuns here were so lively, bright, and delicately refined—almost too lively, with none of the bearing clergy ought to have.

No matter how he looked at it, they did not fit with what he had seen and heard in this orphanage so far.

“Ah...”

At that, the old nun finally could not help sighing and answered,

“Please don’t worry, Mister Bruce. They really are novice nuns, novice nuns sent down from above. But they won’t be staying here long. Their training here is only temporary. They’ll be leaving soon enough.”

“They won’t be staying long?”

Muen paused, then understood. A brow rose.

“Don’t tell me they came here to polish their résumés.”

“...”

The old nun neither admitted it nor denied it.

So Muen understood.

Even so, one thing still confused him.

“But... if that’s what they’re doing, why come to a place like this?”

Of all places, why come to some poor little convent that could barely keep itself fed?

Reverse gilding?

“It’s very simple.”

The old nun bowed her head slightly, as ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) though offering a prayer to the Goddess.

“Some of the Church’s internal rules differ from those of the outside world. Here, those who serve the Goddess must personally witness suffering. That is doctrine written in the scriptures, and it is a path every woman who aspires to become a Great Sister must pass through. They are only moving along that path.”

“So...”

Muen suddenly understood, and his face darkened at once.

“So they’re treating suffering that already exists as a stepping stone for themselves?”

To witness suffering—what did that mean?

It could mean going deep into a dangerous battlefield to heal soldiers on the verge of death.

It could mean venturing into barren wilderness in search of medicine to cure a plague.

It could also mean going to the filthiest, poorest places to help the pitiful and vulnerable believers there.

Of course, “the filthiest and poorest” was not some narrow description. It was a broad concept. It could mean the darkest and most dangerous district in the royal capital. Or it could mean a quiet, peaceful orphanage where the children inside were on the verge of not having enough to eat.

“Suffering? Hardly.”

The old nun shook her head.

“Compared to children who have been driven from their homes or died unjust deaths, the children here are already fortunate. And as for a stepping stone... such things do not exist. Anyone who must deceive themselves even in their training will naturally never earn the Goddess’s favor.”

“And yet it looks as though the Goddess has neglected you as well.”

Muen tapped the wall, long unrepaired and already split with several clear cracks.

“You never received the help you should have. Your situation has even reached the point where you have to ask outsiders for help.”

“Mister Bruce is mistaken... the Goddess has not abandoned us.”

The old nun lowered her gaze, quietly reciting under her breath.

“This too is only part of our training. We have always been training. We have always been enduring the trials the Goddess has given us. And only the devout may return to the Goddess’s embrace after death.”

“...”

All right. Apparently, trying to discuss the Goddess’s “mistakes” with an utterly devout believer was not a smart idea. Their thinking had long since blocked off that possibility altogether.

But setting aside the Goddess—who for the most part served only as a symbol, and who, strictly speaking, was not really to blame here...

“Some of the Church’s branches are starting to rot as well...”

Muen muttered under his breath, realizing that this seemingly minor phenomenon pointed to the presence of great swaths of foul, stinking rotten flesh beneath the surface.

Even in a cathedral that governed a whole region, if it stood too far from the center, and the Holy Light could not shine upon every corner, then rotten flesh would naturally begin to grow.

And that kind of rotten flesh often brought mutation with it.

Just like Great Sister Edeline before.

And clearly, Edeline was far from the only one.

[A false appearance is the reflection of reality. If things are like this here, then the Church in the true royal capital should also...]

“All right.”

The old nun clapped her hands together, cutting off Muen’s thoughts, and said with a smile,

“Mister Bruce, why concern yourself with such a small matter? What matters more right now is the children’s welcome, isn’t it? Please come with me. Other than those novice nuns just now, the children here are all very well-behaved.”

“Is that so? I’m looking forward to it.”

To maintain his cover, and since he had already gained something from this visit, Muen did not end things there. Instead, he continued following the old nun down a corridor that looked like part of a school building.

There were several classrooms on either side. Muen could already see the children sitting obediently in the classroom ahead. There seemed to be several dozen of them—not a small number—but standing out in the hallway, he could not hear a single sound coming from inside.

So just as the old nun had said, this orphanage really was full of good children...

“Out of the way! Out of the way!”

The words of praise had not even finished passing through Muen’s mind before he heard someone’s shrill shout.

Muen raised a brow and turned around. At the far end of the corridor, a small figure was charging toward them with its head lowered.

Fast, too. In the blink of an eye, it had raced from one end to the other.

“Hey! Pero!”

The old nun roared, “How many times have I said no running in—”

“Move, you old hag! I’m in a hurry!”

The runner clearly had no intention of giving the old nun any face. No matter how she shouted, he barreled straight ahead, nearly slamming right into her.

But he was quick and agile, and this was obviously not his first time doing something like this. With a quick twist, he slipped around the old nun. Yet just as he tried to keep charging forward, he suddenly realized that no matter how hard he pumped his legs, he was still running in place.

“Huh?”

The little brat named Pero widened his eyes and discovered that at some point both his feet had left the ground, and his whole body was slowly turning in the air.

He looked up.

And saw a familiar face.

“Well, well. Long time no see, brat.”

Muen held the little troublemaker up by the collar with one hand, staring at him with a half-smile.

“We really do keep running into each other. Recognize me?”

“You’re...”

The brat, Pero, froze for a second. Then he recognized Muen and blurted out,

“The stingy poser who was flat broke but still had to act cool!”

“...”