Several years passed in the blink of an eye.
Victor was no longer the scrawny little beggar. Years of running errands had made his figure tall and lean.
His once-childish face was now angular, with striking golden hair and blue eyes. He had grown into a handsome young man.
Walking down the street, girls would occasionally sneak glances at him, but all his thoughts were elsewhere.
Shirley, too, had shed her childishness and blossomed into a graceful young woman. Although the scar on her face was still prominent, it did not conceal her beauty.
On the contrary, against the backdrop of her clear eyes, the scar gave her a kind of fragile, tragic beauty.
Victor became a regular at the monastery. He was no longer just a delivery boy who left after dropping off supplies. Instead, he stayed to help Shirley chop firewood, carry water, and repair the leaky roof.
At first, the nuns found him a nuisance, saying he was clumsy. Victor didn’t argue. He just kept his head down and worked.
He split twice as much firewood as anyone else, made three more trips for water, and climbed up and down several times to fix the roof leaks.
Initially, the nuns still treated him coldly. But Victor never defended himself. He simply worked silently. He was strong, his work was good, and he never complained of fatigue. Gradually, the whispers behind his back diminished.
“That Victor…”
“He seems different from his mother.”
“Look at his hands—they work faster than ours.”
“Yeah, he’s a steady kid.”
Sometimes during the Holy Light lecture, the Dean would even make an exception and allow Victor to sit in and listen. Even the Dean’s gaze toward him changed.
Victor always sat quietly in the corner, but his eyes never left Shirley. He couldn’t really understand the profound scriptures, but he loved watching Shirley listen attentively.
The way she slightly furrowed her brows, gently twisted the hem of her clothes, and murmured prayers after the Dean was more beautiful than anything.
Finally, Shirley’s coming-of-age day arrived. It was the most important day of the year at the monastery—the Holy Light Baptism Ceremony.
Victor came to the monastery gate early in the morning. Tucked in his arms was a carefully carved wooden box. The silver cross he had given her as a child now hung around Shirley’s neck.
This time, he had prepared something better—a Holy Light Scepter made from the finest walnut wood, with a pure crystal embedded at the tip.
He had saved up for over half a year, secretly learned from the old carpenter in town for many days, and only worked on it at night when everyone was asleep to finish this gift.
The old carpenter laughed at him for being foolish, spending so much effort on a mere stick.
Victor just smiled and said nothing.
According to doctrine, the baptism ceremony was sacred, and no one except the clergy was allowed to participate.
However, just before the ceremony began, Shirley’s tearful voice rang out from the monastery.
“No! I want Victor to watch! If he’s not watching me, I won’t go through with the baptism!”
The Dean looked helplessly at the stubborn girl, then at Victor standing outside the door, looking ill at ease.
The Dean sighed. “The doctrine doesn’t explicitly require that bystanders be expelled. Victor, come in. Stand in the corner and don’t make a sound.”
As she said this, her brows were tightly knitted, clearly reluctant to let her see Victor. But she couldn’t do anything about Shirley—the child had been stubborn since childhood. If pushed too hard, she might really make a scene all day.
Victor carefully entered the sanctuary and stood in the most inconspicuous shadow. He was so excited his heart felt like it would stop. His palms were sweaty, and the wooden box almost slipped out. He took a deep breath and silently told himself that he absolutely must not embarrass Shirley.
This was his first time witnessing the Holy Light Baptism.
Shirley stood in the center of the Holy Light Magic Array, dressed in a pure white baptismal robe. When the Dean began reciting the ancient prayer, Victor held his breath.
As the prayer chanted, a faint golden light began to emanate from around Shirley.
Suddenly, a change occurred! The gentle golden light instantly blazed dazzlingly bright, like a miniature sun exploding inside the sanctuary! Victor could barely open his eyes. A sacred and boundless aura rushed toward him.
‘Is Shirley okay?’
He instinctively raised his hand to shield his face, that single thought in his mind.
The Holy Scripture in the Dean’s hand fell to the ground, her face full of disbelief.
“This is—! This… the Holy Light Affinity is actually this high?! Such pure energy is comparable to the Saint from a hundred years ago! This must be reported to the Temple immediately!”
As the golden light dissipated, Shirley stood a bit dazed, as if she hadn’t yet recovered from the shock. She blinked, and the first thing she did was look around for Victor.
Victor ignored all rules and rushed up first.
“Shirley! You were amazing!”
He opened the wooden box in his arms and presented the exquisite scepter to her, his eyes filled with unconcealable pride and excitement. “Congratulations, Shirley. This is your coming-of-age gift.”
On the handle of the scepter, a small character for “Snow” was carved by Victor stroke by stroke. Though crooked, it clearly took great effort.
Looking at the panting young man before her, and seeing her own reflection in his eyes, Shirley’s joy overflowed instantly.
“Brother Victor…”
She couldn’t hold back anymore and threw herself into Victor’s arms, hugging him tightly around the waist.
Victor’s body stiffened instantly. Though it wasn’t their first hug in these few years, this time it was in the sanctuary, under the Dean’s watchful gaze. He could feel Shirley’s breath, smell the faint scent of soap on her. His ears immediately burned red.
A hint of awkward ambiguity filled the air. Victor’s hands hovered in midair, unsure whether to lower them. If he did, he was afraid the Dean would be angry; if he didn’t, Shirley was holding him so tightly he couldn’t bear to push her away.
The Dean acted as if she didn’t see it. Her expression was solemn and fervent. She walked straight to Shirley and grabbed her hand.
“Shirley, child, you have been chosen by the Holy Light.” The Dean’s voice trembled with excitement. “You must immediately go to the Temple of the Holy Kingdom and report your situation to the Elder Hall. You will be selected as the next Saint!”
“S… Saint?”
Shirley was stunned. That word was too distant for her. She had never even thought that her face, with this scar, could be associated with being a Saint.
“That’s right! I will hire the best adventurers to escort you!”
The Dean’s eyes gleamed with fanatical light, as if seeing the monastery’s bright future ahead. She rubbed her hands together, already planning how to report this great news upward.
Victor stood nearby, listening to the Dean’s words, his heart gripped as if by an invisible hand.
Saint… That was the most honorable status in the Holy Kingdom, the divine messenger walking among humans. And Shirley, the girl once called ugly, had now truly become a radiant angel.
Victor’s heart was full of congratulations. But beneath that congratulations, a deep sense of inferiority crept up like a venomous snake.
He looked down at his own rough hands. Wood shavings were still embedded under his nails, and his clothes were stained with mud splashed while chopping wood.
‘She is going to the Temple too. She is going to become a Saint. And I…’
‘I am just a nun’s illegitimate child, an errand boy.’
‘In a place so radiant, does someone like me deserve to stand by her side?’
That familiar feeling of being abandoned by the world washed over him again. Like when he was a child, hungry, squatting by the wall, watching the town’s children walk past him laughing and talking. His chest felt tight, and his breath became a little uneven.
Victor clenched his fists, his nails digging into his flesh, the pain snapping him back to reality.
“No.”
A clear voice interrupted Victor’s wandering thoughts. Shirley turned sharply, her clear eyes filled with determination. She ignored the grand vision the Dean was painting and rushed over to Victor, grabbing his hand tightly.
“I’m not going.”
“Shirley, don’t be difficult!” The Dean frowned, her voice stern. “This is a big deal! How many children in the monastery dream of this opportunity, how can you—”
“I’m not going!”
Tears welled up in Shirley’s eyes. She clung to Victor’s hand as if it were her last lifeline. Her voice was choked with tears, but she spoke clearly, word by word. “If I go alone, I’ll be scared! If Victor isn’t there, I don’t care about being a Saint!”
She looked up at Victor, her eyes brimming with tears, her voice trembling but firm. “Brother Victor, please… Come with me, okay? As long as you’re there, I’m not afraid of anywhere.”
Victor looked into Shirley’s eyes. There was no Holy Light, no Temple, no halo of a Saint in them. Only him. Only him.
The gloom in Victor’s heart was instantly dispelled. That feeling of being needed was warmer than any Holy Light.
He turned his hand and held Shirley’s tightly. Her hand was cold, but also soft. Pressing against her palm, it seemed his whole heart settled.
“Okay.”
Victor looked at Shirley, his eyes more determined than ever. “No problem. Wherever you go, I’ll go. I am your shadow. Wherever there is light, there will always be a shadow.”