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‘Why the hell does hiding your identity make you bump into people so often?’
I was pretty sure I had gone through similar situations before.
“…”
“…”
“W-watch where you’re going.”
It was an obvious thing to say, but when I walked around in the guise of the Saint of Sacrifice and Revival, there was no way situations like this would happen. People would part like the Red Sea, most of them would either be praying from a distance or dropping to their knees as they looked at me, so how could I ever bump into anyone?
Most were so careful that even brushing against my clothes was something they would avoid, and even when I visited places like shelters for the abandoned to comfort them, many would feel uneasy about my hand touching them. They would call themselves filthy and would feel burdened at receiving a blessing. They would sometimes look at me as if they were afraid that they were committing some kind of disrespect.
Whenever I touched their faces or kissed their foreheads as part of the performance, most would flinch in shock and burst into tears. Ordinary adventurers or members of the upper class were the same. They would shrink as if making physical contact with me was some kind of sin.
Many even hesitated when I offered a handshake. Given my social position,...
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