The whole sect reveres me as a cool and aloof saintess.
Only I know that I’m so socially anxious I can barely speak, and if I break character, I’ll die.
I hired the greatest assassin in the world as my bodyguard.
They say he’s a ruthless, cold-blooded killer.
But then I turned around and found him hiding behind me, eyes red, quietly sniffling:
“Big Sister, I’m scared of ghosts...”
Me: ?
Later on:
My silence from social anxiety became “words that reshape reality.”
His tearful sword swings became “compassion for all living things.”
The Heavenly Order officer hunting us became our number-one diehard fan.
Looking at the crowd kneeling behind me, I broke down.
“Stop bowing! We really just want to go home and sleep!”
