MTO C66

Chapter 66

“You almost make it sound like wishing Sir Jerard would be driven out.”

“Surely not.”

When Michel snapped, a bit prickly, the knight only smirked.

“Still, Sir Jerard doesn’t fit with the current Eglence corps. He’s too set in his ways.”

It was a cold judgment. Michel wanted to rebut, but in truth he didn’t know Jerard well. Each time he saw him, he merely felt a private kinship, reminded of Master Usung Woo.

“Master! Did you see that just now?”

The children found him again so quickly that Michel’s attention wavered.

“Whoa—Charlotte, that throw was amazing!”

He cut the awkward talk short and ran to the seven little voices clamoring for his notice. His heart felt heavy for a moment, but juggling their cheerful chatter soon pushed thoughts of the corps’ dark politics from his mind.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning, Saint.”

As always after dawn practice, Michel greeted the maid tidying his room. He had offered to do it himself, but she always slipped in each morning while he was out.

Watching her work, he had realized there were special tricks to caring for an old castle. Since then, he confined himself to straightening the quilt and left the precious antiques to expert hands.

But the smiling maid’s face was unfamiliar today.

“This is our first time meeting, right?”

“Yes, I’m Margaret. I’ll be attending the Saint for a while.”

“Oh? And Sister Anna?”

Anna, a young maid who had looked after him since the relief event, had cleaned his room as recently as last night. The change startled him.

Margaret’s face briefly dimmed.

“Anna’s unwell. She’ll be resting from work.”

“She’s sick? With what?”

Only yesterday, Anna had bustled about as usual. Now she was too ill to work? A cold?

“Her neck won’t turn…”

“Pardon?”

“She woke up this morning with her neck locked—can’t turn her head. Even moving is hard, so she must rest.”

A crick in the neck.

Michel understood at once. He had never had one himself, but adult students at the dojang often did. Sudden exertion might trigger it—but the deeper cause was poor daily habits.

Come to think of it, Anna always hunched her shoulders.

Timid, easily startled—her posture had set to her nerves. Michel regretted not correcting it sooner.

“May I see Sister Anna?”

“The Saint?”

“Yes. I think I can help.”

As Geum Jeong‑oh, he had earned a sports massage instructor’s certificate while volunteering at a nursing home—elders’ bodies were not as supple as children’s, so even small strains caused problems. The certification had proven useful ever since: soothing children’s growing pains, adding massage to adult classes when covering for Master Usung Woo, even easing sudden neck twinges mid‑lesson. Bone issues couldn’t be massaged away, but muscular ones often could.

Margaret, amazed, led him quickly to the servants’ quarters, clearly close to Anna. At her knock—

“Anna! It’s Margaret. The Saint has come to see you.”

“What? Ah!”

“Anna!”

At the cry, she flung open the door. Michel saw Anna lying on a narrow cot, groaning. Seeing him, she tried to rise, but even the slightest movement wrung her face tight, her upper body stiff as if in a neck brace.

“Se‑Saint.”

“Easy—stay as you are.”

“I‑I’m sorry.”

Despite his kindness, Anna forced herself, sitting up with effort; even that simple motion left her pallid. Michel gently asked,

“I hear your neck hurts. Where exactly?”

“Eh? I… it’s not that bad, but…”

“Anna, the Saint will help you,” Margaret soothed.

Anna’s eyes flew up to him—since she couldn’t lift her stiff head, only her gaze moved. Michel smiled reassurance and sat beside her.

“May I put my hands on you?”

“Y‑yes!”

Hands clenched tight, she trembled. Michel told her to relax and palpated neck, shoulders, back. Turning left, she had a little range; right, the muscles were hard as stone. Even his lightest touch made her flinch and swallow cries.

After assessing, he took her right arm and fixed it behind her back.

“This will hurt a little. Try to relax.”

“Eh?”

“Breathe out slowly. Hoooo…”

“H‑hooo… HAAA!”

“Anna!”

As Michel pressed her head diagonally, she yelped; Margaret, alarmed, cried her name. Holding the squirming woman steady, Michel kept his voice kind but firm.

“No tensing—you’ll get hurt. Let go.”

“It… it hurts so much, Saint! It hurts!”

“You can do this. Relax—we’ll go again. Long breath in… and out…”

“H‑hooo…”

Though shaking, Anna followed his breath. Patiently, slowly, gently—but thoroughly—he guided her body, careful not to let frightened muscles seize further. Thankfully, it seemed to be only muscle—she softened bit by bit under his hands.

“You did well. Now—try moving your neck.”

After a long, careful session, he released her. Anna, wary, turned her head—then, shock spread across her face as it moved freely.

“I‑it turns! Saint, I can turn my neck!”

“Ah.”

Margaret gasped, covering her mouth. Michel smiled and kneaded the nape lightly.

“It moves now, but it’ll still feel off for a while. Don’t overwork. I’ll teach you some simple stretches—do them regularly.”

“Y‑yes!”

He showed effective stretches, stressing proper posture again and again, and advised regular exercise once she healed. Having just felt the relief, both women listened bright‑eyed.

“Thank you, Saint! You’re my savior—I’ll repay this grace all my life!”

“Thank you for saving Anna, Saint! I’ll devote myself to serving you and your will! To witness a miracle with my own eyes—it’s an honor!”

They were near tears with gratitude—more than needed, perhaps, but to Michel it showed how much Anna had hurt and how much Margaret cared. He was simply glad to help someone he often relied on.

But the next day, when a crowd of servants rushed to find him, he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

“The Saint is over there!”

“S‑Saint!”

“Saint! I’m sure an evil spirit clings to me—please exorcise it!”

“Saint, hear me first! I haven’t slept for nights because of a demon!”

“Saint! Have mercy!”