My Family in the Novel?

"Ugh... where am I?"

Tristan groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. The room around him was unfamiliar, and he quickly deduced that it wasn't the school's infirmary.

The symbols and markings on the walls and ceiling hinted at a more sacred place, and the predominant color of white dominated the room.

Rubbing his eyes and head, Tristan noticed other individuals in the room, each receiving care from priests and nuns of the church.

The atmosphere was serene yet charged with a palpable sense of divine energy.

"Oh, you're awake," a melodious voice called out to him.

Turning his attention to the source, Tristan's eyes widened in recognition.

"Senior Elena... I mean Saintess?" he uttered, a mix of surprise and realization coloring his voice.

"Am I in the church?"

Elena, chuckled at Tristan's reaction and nodded.

"Yes, that's right, Brother Tristan. I didn't expect someone as strong as you to end up in a place like this"

She approached him with a warm smile, her presence exuding a comforting aura

"And please, just call me Senior Elena. It's not like we're strangers, right, Brother Tristan?"

"…. Sure" replied Tristan in a tired voice as a strong headache terrorized his head.

Tristan, though feeling a bit weirded out by the familial terms, understood the cultural nuances of the Holy Nation.

The people of the holy land regarded each other as family in front of their god, or more specifically, in front of the goddess they revered.

It was a gesture of respect and unity that transcended mere titles.

Elena gently touched Tristan's head, and a golden light spread forth, covering his entire body.

The radiant energy enveloped him, and Tristan could feel the pain and headache dissipating rapidly.

Despite his own proficiency in healing with his light magic, the pureness of energy emanating from the saintess surpassed anything he had ever experienced.

As the golden light worked its soothing magic, Tristan couldn't help but ponder the disparity between his own divine energy and that of the saintess.

'Is it because I'm not faithful to the goddess?' he mused inwardly.

His master had always described him as someone with an absurd amount of divine energy, yet Tristan had never delved deep enough to understand what made his divine energy different from that of priests and paladins.

It had always been an innate part of him, a blessing he didn't fully comprehend.

Opening and closing his hands from time to time, Tristan attempted to analyze the subtle nuances of the divine power at play.

He sought to understand why he, despite his occasional lack of devotion, was bestowed with such an extraordinary amount of energy.

The golden light continued to weave its healing magic around him, and the contrast between his own abilities and the saintess's power became more apparent.

His thoughts drifted to his past, where he had often relied on his divine energy without fully grasping its origin or significance.

The goddess had been a distant figure, revered by the faithful, but Tristan's connection to her had always been complex.

He had questioned his own faith, wondering if the power within him truly came from the goddess or if it was something else entirely.

Seeing Tristan deep in contemplation as he analyzed his divine energy, Elena couldn't help but offer a reassuring comment.

"Brother Tristan, I'm sure your divine energy is a unique gift. Embrace it, and it will guide you on your path"

"Even though I'm not faithful? Even if I'm not sure when this blessing will disappear?"

"Fufu.... Faith is but a construct we people made to measure our love for the goddess brother Tristan…. we are but simple humans, how can we even hope to measure the love of the divine?"

"Although we can see the ocean, we cannot see its end, so how does brother Tritan know that the goddess's gift for you will end?" Said Elena with a warm smile.

….

…...

"Thank you...."

Tristan replied, a sense of gratitude evident in his voice.

Despite the newfound clarity that the golden light had brought him, he found himself at a loss for words in response to the saintess's wisdom.

Elena, her demeanor warm and reassuring, simply smiled at Tristan.

Her eyes continued to study him further, the light magic revealing the intricacies of his being.

In that moment, Tristan realized the significant gap in his interactions with the saintess.

Since their encounter before the joint combat exams, he hadn't crossed paths with her again.

Although he did see her from time to time it was only when she was with Adrian.

Rumors circulated that Elena spent her time at the church, engaged in fervent prayers or extending her help to those in need in the nearby slums.

Observing Elena's meticulous examination, Tristan gained a renewed appreciation for the saintess's genuine and caring nature.

Her commitment to aiding those less fortunate was mirrored in the way she extended her healing touch to him.

The golden light, once a source of rejuvenation, now became a symbol of the compassion and selflessness that defined the saintess's character.

Tristan would have preferred the saintess to continue treating him for a bit longer, as most of the stress lingering in his mind began to drift away.

However, the constant jealous stares from both the patients in the room and the priests and nuns surrounding him became increasingly palpable.

"Ok, all done. There seems to be nothing wrong"

Elena announced. Tristan couldn't help but wish for a bit more of the saintess's healing touch, but the envious atmosphere in the room didn't allow for such indulgence. Elena's attention shifted from the physical to the cautionary as she continued.

'I guess everyone here wants her attention'

"But please do be careful next time, Brother Tristan. I heard from the person who brought you here that you took a punch to the face to save a little girl from loan sharks, canceling off all her debts. Although what you did was commendable, there could've been other ways you could've protected the little girl instead of letting your face get destroyed like that"

Although Elena did appreciate the genuine kindness that Tristan had, what he did this time was a bit overboard.

He was practically having a hard time breathing, and his distorted face was almost swallowed inside.

If not for the first aid and advanced healing potion that those two individuals who rushed him here applied, he would have died

"Huh?"

Tristan mumbled, trying to wrap his mind around the unexpected revelation.

His face hadn't met its sorry state for a noble cause; it was the result of his master's unconventional training methods

Tristan, caught off guard by Elena's reprimand, stared at her in surprise. The story was entirely new to him.

His face didn't get broken because he saved a little girl from debt; it got absolutely destroyed by his master's punch.

The realization hit him like a sudden gust of wind. He could almost hear his master's laughter echoing in his mind.

'But why did the master bring me here? To the church of all places? When she could've used or bought healing potions. She's the Holy Nation's public enemy number one, so I'm sure she wouldn't have even thought of treating me here, even if it was free. Did someone persuade her or something?'

As Elena began to walk away, Tristan found himself compelled to unintentionally grab her hands.

"Yes, Brother Tristan?" Elena said, clearly surprised by the unexpected gesture.

"Ah, s-sorry... it's just, I wanted to ask if the person who brought me here was still around?"

Tristan inquired, a sense of curiosity and gratitude lingering in his voice.

"The beautiful lady who brought you here disappeared the moment she dropped you in front of our priests. It was actually the blonde-haired girl who explained your situation to us"

Elena explained, her eyes reflecting a hint of admiration for the mysterious benefactor.

"I-I see," Tristan replied, taking in the information.

His mind raced with thoughts of gratitude towards the blonde-haired girl and an inkling that perhaps it was Aunty Mila, whom he sometimes see master dragging around.

They haven't exactly officially met before but Tristan was aware of who she was. And he was sure the same goes for Mila.

"Well then, see you around, Brother Tristan" Elena said, refocusing her attention on the other patients, her presence uplifting their spirits.

'I better go Alex is probably wondering where I am right now and I've got to hear Adrian's answer later'

Tristan, feeling a renewed strength after Elena's healing touch, decided it was time to leave. Saying his last goodbyes to the saintess, he walked out of the room.

Tristan couldn't help but observe the atmosphere in the room as he moved through the rows of patients.

It wasn't hard to discern why the male patients, and perhaps even some of the females, wore expressions ranging from awe to infatuation.

The saintess, draped in her white veil and hood, radiated a beauty that transcended the ordinary.

Even with her features concealed, the allure of the saintess's eyes peeking from beneath the veil left an indelible impression.

Tristan could almost sense the lingering effect of the saintess's presence, and he knew that many of the patients had caught glimpses of the ethereal beauty hidden behind the sacred coverings.

The saintess, when she strolled through the academy in her school uniform without the regal robes that usually concealed her figure, still managed to captivate with an allure that held an almost holy seductiveness.

Especially her chest area.

It was a paradoxical charm that fascinated and enchanted those who beheld it.

The white veil, a symbol of purity and devotion, seemed to enhance rather than diminish the saintess's appeal.

Even when clad in a school uniform that covered more than her ceremonial robes, there was an undeniable magnetism that drew eyes and hearts alike.

Tristan moved through the room with a blend of sympathy for the patients and a quiet acknowledgment of the saintess's captivating presence.

'I'm surprised as to how Adrian can manage to keep his composure whenever he's with the saintess'

Before he could step out of the church, however, the gigantic doors of the chapel, adorned with intricate carvings, called out to him.

"Are you Tristan, perhaps?" a dignified voice echoed through the sacred halls.

Turning around, Tristan saw a middle-aged man with a benevolent smile on his face.

Clad in a priest uniform, the man's attire bore subtle yet intricate decorations, indicating his high rank within the church and the Holy Nation as a whole.

He was a Bishop at best.

"Please do give this old man a moment of your time, dear Hero"

"What?"

….

Making my way towards the classroom, I couldn't shake the sense of impending annoyance that would inevitably accompany my entrance.

It was a given that I would face an onslaught of nagging from a particular individual, a person with whom I shared an unspoken rivalry.

Euphemia and I weren't exactly close; in fact, we were more like rivals…... well at least from her perspective, because, truth be told, I couldn't care less.

Anticipating Euphemia's relentless questioning, I braced myself for the storm that would surely follow upon opening the classroom door.

Today, however, I had a different agenda in mind.

I planned to disclose my circumstances, shedding light on the suspicious activities involving Louise.

While I was confident that Tristan and Alex would be more accepting and perhaps even gullible enough to believe my story, I knew Euphemia would be an entirely different challenge.

Euphemia questioned almost everything I did, and her skepticism was something I couldn't simply ignore.

Sis and Aunt insisted that getting closer to Euphemia would be crucial for the play they planned to enact in this world.

From a strategic perspective, it made sense – alliances and understanding key players could potentially give us an upper hand.

I'm sure they just wanted me to find someone to get close with and manipulate from every country though.

Aria and Schwi for the Empire, Elena for the Holy Empire, and Euphemia for the kingdom.

'I'm sure they would want me to get involved with more people across different nations, I wouldn't be surprised if they asked me to get close with every high-ranking nobility and royal family from a nation'

Yet, a nagging sense of caution lingered within me.

Euphemia's mastery of alchemy was unmatched, but her unpredictable nature and unbridled obsession with the arcane arts left me wary.

What if, in the name of alchemy, she decided to manipulate or exploit me?

As the second semester unfolded, the alchemy students around me buzzed with activity.

The approaching dungeon explorations and practical exams added an air of excitement to the academy.

It was during these times that alliances and rivalries would be tested in the crucible of challenges.

Euphemia, undoubtedly, would be a significant figure in this unfolding drama, as mine and her potions would totally run dry on the first day.

The anticipation of the upcoming events filled me with a strange mix of anxiety and excitement.

The first act of our orchestrated play was set to kick off with an incident surrounding the imminent dungeon explorations.

'Many innocents would probably die, but it's essential for mother's arrival'

I couldn't help but wonder if Tristan, with his unique set of skills, could handle the challenges posed by the adversary we were about to introduce.

With a sense of determination, I braced myself and pushed open the classroom door. The sight of my classmates caught off guard, a mixture of surprise and curiosity etched on their faces, greeted me.

Common questions and greetings filled the air, and while some were more genuinely interested in my absence, the hierarchical constraints of nobility and social standing kept them from voicing their inquiries.

Except for one person—approaching me with an unmistakable air of boldness. Her black hair gracefully swayed with each step, and piercing green eyes bore into me with an intensity that demanded answers. "So where were you--" she began, her words hanging in the air.

"Take your seats. Oh, you're back as well, Adrian" the teacher's timely arrival interrupted, sparing me from the impending interrogation.

Taking the opportunity, I approached Euphemia, whispering to her in hushed tones, "I'll tell you later."

Her dissatisfaction was evident, but with the class about to commence, she sighed, reluctantly accepting the delay.