“I’m Samimi, the Saint’s top disciple. I’d like to speak with my mentor,” Samimi said.
“We know who you are, Miss Samimi,” one of the Holy Knights replied.
“Your disgraceful deeds have spread throughout the capital. We cannot allow someone so tainted to come into contact with the Saint,” the other Holy Knight said emotionlessly.
“Then… could I be assigned a job? I’m still a priest, after all,” Samimi asked.
She didn’t argue, knowing that if even the Holy Knights dared block her path, this was surely an order from the Saint herself. She wouldn’t get a chance to plead her case.
“The Saint has already arranged a path for you.”
One knight stepped back into the cathedral and returned with a box, which he opened with a single hand.
Inside lay a piece of black lace fabric, beneath which was a letter.
“…”
Samimi’s expression darkened.
She knew exactly what that black cloth was — the Church’s symbol of penance, the Mark of Atonement, used to blindfold sinners.
The lace was inscribed with enchanted runes, allowing it to stick to a sinner’s face indefinitely, sealing their sight.
Once you wore this thing, everyone would know you were a sinner.
Though technically still considered “atoning through service,” this label came with endless scorn and humiliation.
“If you wear this, you’ll become a Nun of Atonement,” the Holy Knight explained.
“The letter is a recommendation. You’ll serve as a priest in a rural parish for three years. If the Saint sees your repentance, she may consider reinstating you. Refuse, and you’ll be expelled from the Church — never again a priest of the faith.”
He was clearly giving her a choice — but the implication was to leave quietly. It was just a roundabout way of kicking her out.
Because let’s be honest — no sane person would choose to become a Nun of Atonement. You’d be better off finding any odd job in the capital than serving blindfolded in some nowhere town for three years.
And spending three years blind? That’s not punishment — that’s torture.
“I accept.”
Samimi nodded.
“…What?”
The Holy Knight wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.
Samimi took the black cloth. The enchantment instantly activated, launching itself into the air and sealing over her eyes.
The glowing runes along the lace lit up and glued the cloth tightly to her face.
“Thank you both, and thank the Saint for arranging work for me,” Samimi said sincerely, taking the box and bowing.
“Wait. That sacred staff of yours is Church property. You’re no longer authorized to wield it. Please hand it over.”
The Holy Knight, though surprised by her attitude, still followed protocol.
Samimi hesitated but ultimately handed over her staff.
Now, she truly had nothing left.
Without another word, she turned and walked away from the sacred chapel.
The two Holy Knights, watching her back, no longer saw her with contempt. Instead, a strange sense of confusion — even awe — took hold.
And deep within the church, the Saint herself had paused in her teaching, silent.
No one knew what she was thinking.
Why did Samimi dare to wear the sinner’s blindfold?
“Clarity Spell.”
Simple — she knew how to dispel the blindness enchantment.
She used this spell back when she used to secretly peek at teammates bathing.
So to her, this was no punishment — it was actually a blessing. Finally, a place to stay for a while.
The box also contained a recommendation letter, a nun’s robe, and even some travel money.
She could now get away from the hero squad and the capital’s chaos, and not worry about being killed off by the protagonists.
“Perfect arrangement.”
Samimi left the capital with a makeshift walking stick, making her way along a dim country road.
A passing freight wagon approached — she tried to flag it down.
“Don’t think I can’t see that sinner’s blindfold on your face in the dark.”
“Get lost! You’re bad luck!”
In the end, the old driver just cursed her and drove off, leaving her in a cloud of dust.
Samimi gave a bitter smile and continued on foot.
The town wasn’t far — just a small settlement near the capital.
“Pant… pant… pant…”
As she entered a forest path, the sound of wolves howling echoed nearby.
Samimi smelled blood and rushed forward — only to find the very same freight wagon had stopped in the middle of the road.
Several wolves were circling, attacking the two drivers.
One young man was swinging a blade in desperation. The older driver was already wounded, lying on the ground.
At this rate, both would become wolf food.
Just as the wolves closed in—
“Shield of Light.”
A chant rang out. A shimmering shield appeared around the young driver, blocking several wolves.
“Illumination.”
A glowing orb rose into the air, lighting up the forest path.
Startled, the wolf pack bolted, disappearing into the shadows.
“Hissss!”
One wolf king remained. It lunged toward the driver—
“Strength Buff.”
The young man suddenly felt power surge through him.
He raised his blade and, with a mighty swing—
Crash!
He sliced the massive wolf king in two. The ground split from the force.
“Healing Light.”
Samimi raised her hand, green light flowing into the wounded old man.
His bleeding slowed.
“Thank you, Miss… wait, you’re…”
The old man, recovering, looked up — and froze when he saw who had saved him.
It was the very girl he’d insulted just moments ago.
Samimi said nothing. She nodded and turned to leave, continuing her solitary journey.
“Miss Priestess, wait! Thank you for saving us!”
“Please, let us give you a ride. We were terribly rude earlier — we’re sorry.”
Shame burning in their hearts, the two drivers hurried to catch up and offered her a ride.
“Thank you.” Samimi climbed into the back, resting among the cargo. Finally — a little comfort.
“What should we call you, Miss Priestess?” one asked.
“I’m Samimi. A Nun of Atonement. I’m heading to Melontown to serve as a local priest.”
She couldn’t help thinking Samimi sounded like a random throwaway name by the author — lazy and unremarkable, fitting for a background character like her.
“We’re headed the same way. We’ll make sure you arrive safely. If you’re tired, feel free to rest.” The driver patted his chest with confidence.
“Thank you, old man. That’s the kindest thing I’ve heard all day,” Samimi replied gratefully.
Even as a transmigrator, today had drained her.
She leaned back against a crate and closed her eyes.
Earlier, she realized something — despite being a healing priest, her healing spell proficiency was mediocre.
But her support magic? Surprisingly good.
In game terms, she wasn’t a healer — she was a buffer.
A “staff user” who turned weaklings into heroes with her support.
In gaming circles, buffers like her were often the real MVPs — the human rights cards of meta teams.
And yet, this support goddess had been kicked from the party and cast aside.
“Clearly, this world doesn’t play RPGs.”
Still, Samimi had dodged the protagonist squad.
It was finally time to start her brand-new life.