I’m a Former Saint Exiled to the Forest, but for some reason, the Cold-hearted Magician keeps visiting me. - Chapter 8

Evelyne asked Serge to take her to the deepest part of the forest.

Even for Serge, who rarely showed discomfort, the oppressive atmosphere of the area caused him to grimace.

Evelyne herself couldn’t help but let out a quiet “wow” at the overwhelming sensation as they landed gently on the ground.

She stepped away from Serge, taking care to ensure her purification aura continued to shield him. Once at a safe distance, she turned back to him.

“Hey, Serge. Until now, I’ve always adjusted my purification efforts to make it seem like something Leticia could have done. I’ve never gone all out.”

Serge’s violet eyes widened in rare surprise, and Evelyne grinned at his reaction.

“So, just this once, watch as I push myself to my limit.”

Deep down, Evelyne had always suspected her power was far beyond that of other saints. The thought of showing it to someone had always terrified her—of how they might react. But if it was Serge, she thought, it might be okay.

Clasping her hands in a gesture of prayer, Evelyne closed her eyes and reached inward.

Usually, she would only skim the surface of her power, whispering to it softly. This time, she called out to its very core, her voice echoing within her soul.

The power surged upward, and Evelyne opened her arms wide.

Light burst forth from her body, flowing outward in streams of gold interwoven with vivid green. The brilliant currents spread in all directions, pushing away the forest’s corruption.

A high-pitched hum resonated through the air, the sound of purification cleansing the taint. The melody was almost symphonic, as if the forest itself sang in harmony.

Spinning gracefully, Evelyne let the power reach every corner of the forest. Her golden hair shimmered and danced in the radiant light.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Serge watching her intently, his black hair fluttering in the whirlwind of energy.

His expression, painted with awe and wonder, made Evelyne laugh softly. She realized that she might be the only person who could surprise him this much. The thought filled her with a quiet sense of triumph.

That day, a pillar of light erupted from the center of the Forest of Corruption, a torrent of gold and green engulfing the entire area. By the time the light subsided, half a day later, the Forest of Corruption was no more.

The experimental purification measuring device brought to the forest recorded a distinct signature: “gold and green.” It was not the “gold and crimson” associated with Saint Leticia.

The name attached to this miraculous act was Evelyne Ange.

Once a saint banished for sloth and accused of neglecting her duties, Evelyne had disappeared without a trace after this event.

Her whereabouts became a mystery to all.

Two months later, Evelyne remained within the borders of the Claire Kingdom.

Kneeling before the corpse of a large magical beast, she prayed for its peace. The lingering corruption that had been seeping toward the body dissipated under her purification.

“All right, your turn,” she called out without looking back.

Serge, his black hair tied neatly as always, stepped forward to begin the process of dissection.

Compared to the first time they had met, his movements were fluid and efficient. In his hands was a flawless, transparent magical crystal.

Even now, Evelyne found it hard to believe that her power had such an influence on these crystals. But as Serge often reminded her, the measuring device confirmed it.

While Serge handled the transaction at the shop, Evelyne waited outside, examining the crystal curiously. She couldn’t see any discernible difference herself.

When Serge returned, he swiftly took the crystal from her hands.

“Hey, Serge! That’s mean!”

“It’s hardly a rare item.”

“It might not be rare, but it’s special because you collected it,” Evelyne retorted, pouting.

Serge responded by lightly tapping her head.

It didn’t hurt in the slightest, and the casual gesture made Evelyne smile with satisfaction.

“The church you grew up in is just a town away, isn’t it?” Serge asked.

“That’s right. The rumors might not have reached them yet, but they could hear both about me being called the ‘wicked saint’ and the one who purified the Forest of Corruption. I just hope the news doesn’t give Grandpa and the others a heart attack.”

“Let’s ensure we reach them safely first,” Serge replied.

Evelyne chuckled and nodded.

But Serge, though his expression remained stoic, seemed troubled.

They had spent so much time together that Evelyne had learned to pick up on these subtle shifts in his mood.

“What’s wrong? I can’t read your mind, you know. You’ll have to spell it out for me.”

“…Was it the right choice to stay?”

“Stay in Claire? Of course, it was! Thanks to you, I’m now known as the ‘legendary saint who purified the Forest of Corruption.’ Why would I need to run away now?”

The rumors about her as the “wicked saint” still lingered, but with time, they would fade. And with the revelation of the church’s manipulations, the Holy Order had bigger problems than chasing after Evelyne.

“Leticia, for one, is thriving as the tragic saint, rallying public favor. Honestly, I feel like I have too much freedom now. But really, staying in Claire is more convenient if I want to stay with you.”

With a shy giggle, Evelyne smiled warmly, only to find Serge leaning in closer.

Over the past few weeks, she had grown used to moments like these. Reflexively, she closed her eyes, ready to accept him.

Yet, when he pulled away ever so slightly, she couldn’t resist teasing him with a soft reprimand.

“Serge, don’t you think it’s a bit unfair to silence me physically whenever you get embarrassed or flustered?”

“…Shall I continue?”

Her sharp-witted partner responded by slipping his hand behind her head, making his intentions clear. Evelyne waved an imaginary white flag in surrender.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stay quiet! Wait, Serge—”
But her protest was cut short as he captured her lips again, leaving her breathless until he finally let her go.

Each passing day made her more aware of how Serge communicated far more through action than words. But today was on another level.

Glaring up at him in mock annoyance, Evelyne was met with his usual stoic expression. Yet his next words left her utterly speechless.
“When we meet your grandfather and the others, I will formally make my request.”

“Huh? A request for what?”

“For marriage. I have no parents to involve in the process, but you deserve to follow proper traditions.”

As everything clicked into place, Evelyne’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“W-wait! Is that why we’ve been sleeping in separate beds this whole time!?”

“…You might consider reining in your bluntness, at least a little,” Serge said, his face forming an unusually pained expression.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry! I know you wouldn’t hate me for it, but I just couldn’t hold back—I was so surprised!”

Though he didn’t respond verbally, the slight softening around his eyes told her that her apology had reached him.

“It was a joke,” he said plainly.

“You? Joking!? Oh, wait—hold on! I’m shocked, but I’m also really happy!”

She hadn’t expected him to ever crack a joke so effortlessly. She hadn’t expected to be able to speak about her work, her life, so openly.

Above all, she hadn’t expected to be able to stay by the side of the one she loved.

Evelyne took a deep breath, her chest swelling with joy.

When his large hand entwined with hers, she squeezed it back and tugged him forward.

Serge blinked, slightly surprised, but let himself be guided, his long black ponytail swaying as he followed her.

Now, how should she introduce this man to her grandfather and the others?

With a heart brimming with excitement, Evelyne began to share her thoughts with the man she adored.

The End