Tiendavis - For Perfect Salvation - Chapter 11

In the dim evening, young Ibi was crouched in a gap in the crumbling wall.

Exhausted, the child dozed off while hugging her knees tightly, but woke with a start at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Then she shuddered at the shadow cast before her.

“It’s okay, it’s me.”

The large shadow backlit by the sunset spoke with a gentle voice.

Recognizing the familiar voice, Ibi murmured with a pale face.

“Mister…”

Ibi’s voice was faint, unlike usual, as she belatedly recognized the astrologer.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

When the astrologer asked with concern, Ibi forced herself to take a breath. Then she spoke casually as if nothing had happened.

“It’s nothing.”

“Your knee is bleeding.”

“Ah.”

Ibi seemed surprised to realize she was hurt, and quickly covered her heavily bleeding knee.

The astrologer took Ibi’s hand and pulled out a handkerchief.

Ibi pouted at the white handkerchief he offered.

“You sure have a lot of handkerchiefs, mister.”

Ibi acted grumpy on purpose, feeling bad that the astrologer kept throwing away handkerchiefs because of her.

Knowing this, the astrologer smiled gently. Then as he wiped Ibi’s knee, he asked again.

“Did something happen outside?”

“…I almost got caught.”

“Where to?”

“I guess I’d have to get caught to find out.”

Ibi said nonchalantly, then immediately furrowed her brows and grumbled.

“It’s really ridiculous. Who do they think they are trying to sell me? I hope they all get struck by lightning and die.”

Young Ibi’s daily life was eventful.

Every day she ran away, stole, got beaten, hid, and anxiously endured while fearing being dragged off somewhere.

Meanwhile, her insistence on raising her voice was not bravado or pretense, but Ibi’s small yet strong will to survive somehow.

Having observed this for a long time, the astrologer spoke words he had long pondered to the battered Ibi today as well.

“Ibi, do you want to live with me?”

Ibi, who had been grumbling, looked up in surprise at the unexpected offer.

Ibi blinked her large dark eyes at the astrologer a couple times, then immediately asked back in disbelief.

“Mister, are you a pervert?”

“No…”

“That’s what they all say.”

Ibi openly looked the astrologer up and down.

So the astrologer hastily explained.

“A lady is renting out the second floor of her house. It’s clean with several rooms, and she said she’ll even provide meals, so I’m suggesting we stay there together. Not just the two of us. Of course, you’ll have your own room.”

It was half a joke, but when the astrologer explained in detail in surprise, Ibi chuckled.

As Ibi’s expression softened, the astrologer asked again.

“Won’t you stay there?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I can’t trust it.”

But Ibi’s answer was still firm.

“There’s no such thing as something for nothing in this world, right? People only do things that benefit themselves, they don’t help others for no reason.”

“Not everyone is like that.”

“Maybe not everyone, but most are. So I don’t like being helped for no reason. It’s annoying to suspect whether it’s bait or a trap.”

Ibi said with a hint of cynicism.

At that time, Ibi’s attitude was just cheeky and rebellious, but in reality her tender heart was secretly pounding.

In fact, Ibi’s heart had sunk at the astrologer’s offer.

It was because of the fear that the astrologer might be like the people who tried to capture her.

Of course, Ibi didn’t distrust the astrologer that much.

If she had no trust at all, Ibi would have just said okay. Then she would have run away for good when the other let their guard down.

But Ibi liked the astrologer, and hoped to continue meeting and talking like this occasionally.

So she spoke rudely and drew a line instead.

Saying not to come any closer, because she didn’t want to lose his kindness, because she didn’t want to be betrayed by him of all people.

Fortunately, the astrologer seemed to understand Ibi’s plea. So he smiled gently with his pretty lips as usual.

“Alright, if you don’t want to, there’s nothing I can do.”

The astrologer was still kind despite Ibi’s refusal, and seeing that, Ibi finally relaxed.

The astrologer spoke to Ibi, still seeming regretful.

“But Ibi, there is help without strings attached in this world.”

“You really don’t know the ways of the world, mister.”

But Ibi snorted stubbornly. Then she said in a clear voice.

“Things only happen to those who deserve them. Getting help is the same. Even begging for bread is only possible for those who know how to elicit sympathy. But I…”

Ibi suddenly closed her mouth while speaking smugly.

She stopped because saying “But I don’t deserve anything” felt too miserable.

So Ibi rolled her eyes in thought for a moment, then changed her words bravely.

“I’ll… of course get greater qualifications. So I’ll think about living with you again then. Later, when I go to Tienda!”

.

.

.

It’s been 8 years since that promise.

Ibi, who now had more than enough qualifications to receive help and be loved as she had vowed in her childhood, was nevertheless writhing in extreme loneliness.

“Butler… Stop cleaning the teacups and listen to me. They all went boating on the lake this morning. To celebrate the successful completion of the purification ceremony. And in the afternoon, Marquis Montra held a tea party. To celebrate the successful completion of the purification ceremony. Also, tomorrow Baron Verde is unveiling a water garden at his villa, you know? This is also thanks to the successful completion of the purification ceremony… Hey, butler. Are you listening to me right now?”

To Ibi’s endless complaints, Dies responded halfheartedly while wiping a teacup with a dry cloth.

“I’m listening. I listened an hour ago and two hours ago, and I’m still listening.”

“That’s right, I’ve only been talking to you for the past hour and two hours…!”

Ibi lamented in a voice full of sorrow. Then she collapsed with her forehead on the sofa armrest, and Dies clicked his tongue as if reproaching her theatrical act.

“If you’re that bored, why don’t you read a book? Or practice an instrument.”

“I don’t want to…”

“Then what do you want me to do…”

Dies groaned in a tired voice, but Ibi didn’t even pretend to listen to the butler’s troubles.

There were two reasons why Ibi was bothering Dies right now.

One was because the butler was her only conversation partner due to the ongoing curse, and the other was because of her very different situation after the purification ceremony ended.

After Ibi Ariate’s appearance, a new culture emerged in Tienda’s social circles.

It was to enjoy all kinds of amusements with the clear water before it all flowed into Visro.

From simply floating boats to holding poetry recitals or concerts against the backdrop of the refreshing lakeside, or creating huge swimming pools filled with water and floating flower petals or herbs – enjoying the afterglow of the purification ceremony to the fullest was the recent trend in Tienda.

And without fail, the one who was always invited to these events was Ibi Ariate, the lovely saint-to-be who awakens mana.

Going to all sorts of places, receiving attention and praise, outwardly embarrassed but inwardly quite pleased – that had been Ibi’s joy.

But Ibi, who was now stuck in the mansion unable to move an inch due to the curse, found the current situation terribly unfair.

“I miss those days…”

Their cheers, their praise, and their fervent applause.

As Ibi, true to her desires, longingly recalled her past glory, Dies set down the cleaned teacup and said.

“If you’re that desperate, go to a safe gathering for a bit. Just go there and have some pointless conversations.”

“It’s not that I haven’t thought of that. But butler, sometimes pointless conversations can be more dangerous.”

Ibi smiled with hazy eyes at the halfhearted suggestion Dies had offered.

In fact, Ibi had considered going out briefly to the gathering most favorable to her.

Not just because she was bored, but because she needed to end her self-restraint soon so that the issue with Count Laurel would become a thing of the past.

So she had planned to gradually show her face in social circles to demonstrate her well-being, but when she actually tried to go out, there were too many anticipated problems.

“Think about it. If someone like Young Lord Arco asks ‘How’s this hat?’, I might reply ‘It doesn’t suit you at all but you’re wearing it proudly.’ What would happen then?”

“To think you can’t even handle daily life because you lack pretense… You should have tried being a bit nicer.”

When the butler casually scratched at her sore spot, Ibi snorted loudly. Then she slowly lectured the butler as if teaching a fool.

“Butler. It’s true that I put on airs to be called nice, but I think this way. If that behavior becomes a habit and part of daily life, it’s not pretense but my new self.”

“So what do you want to do about Count Laurel?”

“I want to beat him to a pulp.”

Ibi, having failed at being nice, raised Dies’ teacup with a smiling face. So Dies grabbed Ibi’s wrist and sincerely apologized.

After barely calming Ibi down, Dies cradled the precious teacup and said.

“I know it’s frustrating, but please be patient a little longer. A report on the snake hunt will come soon.”

“Yes, I hope there’s good news…”

Ibi replied weakly. Then she bit her lip with a slightly dull expression.

Because the butler had brought up Count Laurel’s name, that man’s words came to mind again.

―It would be better in many ways for you to give up on your own than for me to make you give up.

―The agreement was wrong and it seems we’ll both do as we want, so please let me know after the saint selection is over. How I should take care of you.

Yesterday, after the purification ceremony ended, the count said this to Ibi.

It was essentially a declaration of war. At the same time, it was an arrogant notification saying that he would definitely prevent her from being selected as saint, so she should think about how to receive support.

Although nothing has happened yet, Ibi couldn’t ignore the great nobleman’s threat.

So after much deliberation, she asked Dies for his opinion.

“About Count Laurel, do you think he can really prevent my selection as saint?”

Deciding on a new saint is the exclusive right of the heads of the great noble families and the current saint.

And currently, despite the opposition of Duke Laurel, Ibi is considered the most likely next saint with the support of Duke Bayen, Marquis Montra, and the current saint Rio Tuha.

In other words, even the almighty Duke Laurel cannot sway the will of other great nobles.

In this situation, Ibi found it unpleasant and suspicious that the count, who wasn’t even the head of the family, was making such bold claims.

But the butler gave a completely unexpected answer.

“Considering Count Laurel’s influence, it’s not entirely impossible. After all, the Laurel family’s power itself comes from the count.”

*

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He first thought she played hard to get, only to realize she really disliked him

Short intro:

What she can’t stand the most is the streets full of effeminate men, especially that so-called top beauty whom she avoids at all costs.

Shen Yaoxing looks at Jiang Mingyue, who keeps approaching her with coy shyness.

Shen Yaoxing: Bro, don’t be like this, I’m really about to throw up!

She fears nothing in heaven or earth, except for him getting close to her.

*

At first he thought she was just using the trick of feigning indifference to attract his attention. Later, he learned that she truly despised him.

This dealt a heavy blow to Jiang Mingyue, and he vowed to make her, like everyone else, fall at his feet in worship!

***

Synopsis:

Before transmigrating, Shen Yaoxing only wanted to find a reliable man to spend her life with. Who knew that after transmigrating, she would become a reliable woman herself…

A forced misandrist, highly skilled, and reliable female lead

vs.

An initially aloof and arrogant, later morbid, obsessed male lead

_____

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