Goodbye, Saintess. Novel

---- Chapter 566 Byleth stayed silent, yet a faint blush flickered across her flawless face. In her heart, she whispered, "Boss, | feel the same. Sebastian kept his focus on the two hitmen. He failed to notice her subtle expression. | stepped in front of them, my expression cold. "Who sent you? Speak, and | can spare your life. Your spines can be healed as good as new." "Youre this merciful to people who came to kill you?" The hitman who had used the needles let out a low laugh.

"Looks like the Grimwald family produced quite a remarkable heir." "What nonsense are you talking about?" | frowned. "l asked who sent you. Why bring up mercy or families?" Maybe they saw my age, close to Renault's, and assumed | was some young heir from a wealthy clan. The two hitmen spoke again, their voices calm and resolute. "We lost because our skills were inferior. Failure is normal." ---- "Our family will send more people." "You will never get information about our family from us. Asking is an insult." Their tone chilled Byleth and me.

Before we could pry open their mouths, each man bit down hard, and a mouthful of black blood sprayed out. They collapsed at once. "Damn it. Still too late." "The Youngkin hitmen have discipline like this? Fail the mission and kill themselves without hesitation?" | stared at the two lifeless bodies and pulled off their masks. Their faces were utterly ordinary. No one would recognize them ina crowd. My brows tightened. "Our only lead is gone." Byleth stepped forward, pried open their mouths, and checked inside. "They didn't bite their tongues. They used poison.

"The kind hidden under the tongue. Once exposed or once they judge the mission a failure, they choose suicide without hesitation. These are not hitmen. They are closer to martyrs raised by a major family." ---- "Martyr?" My heart jolted. If that were true, the Youngkin family stood on a level far beyond the other top families. Byleth saw the shift in my expression and spoke in a quiet voice. "Boss, | know what you are thinking. The four elites of Astergrad, even those worth more than two billion, don't have the qualifications to raise martyrs." "No qualifications?

Why?" The thought baffled me. Even a family with a net worth over two billion could not manage it? "They cannot afford it, and they lack the conditions to do it." Byleth's tone hardened. "From what | saw in these two men, their combat skills were cultivated from childhood. Training like that costs a fortune." "How much does it take to raise one person?" | asked. Did every martyr eat as much as Byleth? Even then, a two-billion family should manage it. Byleth answered, "To raise a single qualified martyr, the minimum is 40 million.

They also need a reliable instructor, someone who trains them from childhood and indoctrinates them. "The money spent on the martyr themselves is the minor part. ---- The real cost is the instructors. Top-tier combat instructors in this world are extremely limited. Their resources and expertise lie in the hands of the ancient aristocratic families of Enbarr. "A typical two-billion family can't even approach them. At most, they hire a few capable bodyguards." | finally understood. The realization slipped out. "Byleth, you mean these people came from Enbarr?

They weren't sent by the Youngkin family?"