Chapter 238
Chapter 238
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Chapter 238 - EP.53 – 주연들의 이야기(2)
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Translator: crow
Chapter 238: The Main Characters' Stories (2)
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Work to restore the Great Temple, which had been burned down by the massive fire from the day before, was underway with a handful of people lending their efforts.
Even though it had collapsed, it was still a temple, and there were believers who still put their faith in the Light of Glory.
...The problem was that those priests were worse than any monster.
In the old days, the entire kingdom would have rushed in to help, but now only a tiny number of people were pitching in.
About ninety in total?
Half of them were construction workers hired by Roan, so the number of volunteers who had shown up on their own was a pitiful forty-five at best.
And to make it even more depressing,
"Hey, Barry! Hold that pickaxe straight!"
"Ah, sorry."
"Bring a pickaxe over here!"
"Shovel! I said shovel!"
Thirty more of them were cadets from the Swordsmanship Department.
The 108 Arhats, Berserkers (Bear Cubs), Baldies.
They went by many names, but they were out here at the Great Temple site, diligently doing unpaid volunteer work.
Not because they were particularly devout, but because their instructor...
- Flattening a mountain makes for fine training.
- Huh? Flatten what?
- The mountain.
- ...How?
- Well.
- ???
...had sent them here under the pretext of training.
- It'll help quite a bit with training your external arts, you know, hardening your frame. Climb the mountain, dig the earth, swing that pickaxe, and build some muscle. The priests will feed you three solid meals a day, so no worries about protein.
- ......
- Report to the mountain instead of the training grounds for a while. You can finish it in a week, right?
- ...Pardon?
- Actually, five days should do it. I know from experience.
- ......We're human, you know?
Arguing didn't get through to him at all.
He claimed he could do it himself and even offered to prove it—what rebuttal could there be to that?
Besides, if this was the path to getting stronger, refusing would be the height of foolishness.
And so the Bear Cubs were mostly put to work on the construction, fervently flipping the mountainside.
If this labor could bring the mountain back to life, they'd at least get some satisfaction out of it...
They worked with tremendous dedication—
"Fuck..."
—day after grueling day that made curses spill from their lips.
Meanwhile, the two new assistant instructors from the Swordsmanship Department—who had come along with the Bear Cubs under the excuse of supervising outdoor classes for the cadets—watched in admiration.
"Their work speed is impressive."
"What the hell did No. 8 teach them? In three years, these kids are gonna be monsters."
No. 7 and No. 11. Or Dina and Yan, as they were called. The man and woman stared blankly at their old comrade's disciples.
Would human excavators look like that?
How could they move so fast?
"If the instructor were here, he'd flip it all barehanded."
"Five days? If he felt like it, he'd finish in two."
"I'd bet on one day."
...What kind of monster was No. 8, who made even these human excavators look tame?
Dina and Yan let out hollow chuckles.
But amid the chuckles, they felt a surreal absurdity.
They had been part of the organization that planned to burn the temple down, and now here they were helping rebuild it.
Dina stroked her empty sleeve where her arm once was and shook her head.
"Feels weird. Uncomfortable."
"Weird or not, we endure. No. 8—no, Lee Han—is our lifeline."
"Our life..."
The only reason Dina and Yan were still alive, and hadn't been dragged off to the torture chambers of Duke Galahad or Grand Duke Lionel, was because he maintained strict neutrality.
That's why they had to throw themselves into this ill-fitting role as instructors. They never knew when death might come, so they had to cooperate with whatever he said.
No matter how pathetic it felt—just to survive.
At that moment...
Whoosh!
...a shower of 'Light of Life' poured down, as if to comfort their pathetic plight.
Plip, plop, plip-plop!
Sprouts and leaves began to bud from the overturned earth, and the cadets froze, their pupils dilating in shock.
"...That girl, she's just a mage, right?"
"So they say. We heard."
"Saintess, ha! I thought that was all fabricated bullshit..."
Dina and Yan weren't quite as cynical as the black-haired young master, but they were hardcore skeptics.
They'd been kidnapped as children and prayed to the gods every day, but no salvation ever came.
But witnessing this miracle now, they almost wanted to believe in divine mercy and holiness.
...Foolishly so.
The two assassins smiled bitterly.
Bzzz—!
The ground where Irene's water-like mana touched began to vibrate, resonating as if in sympathy.
It was mana of water, but more mysteriously, it was reacting with the lingering holy power scattered around the Great Temple.
Plop.
Fresh sprouts emerged once more, and trees began to regenerate before their eyes.
This must be what they mean by 'a sight like magic'.
Of course...
'The ironic part is that even mages can't pull this off.'
It wasn't something achievable just by knowing magic.
It was a feat possible only for someone like Irene, with mana of such pure clarity.
'Other mages actually made the soil more contaminated...'
The day before, people had hoped that using magic to purify the ground like Irene did would speed up the restoration. But that hope was dashed.
- What the hell is this?
The soil only grew more polluted, and that mage nearly got beaten to death.
- W-Wait! C-Calm down! I didn't do this on purpose! It's just that Irene is that amazing!!
The mage, usually seen as a bit dim, suddenly got sharp in the face of death and quickly figured out why the contamination happened and how Irene managed it.
- If the average mage's mana purity is fifth-grade level, Irene's is first-grade! No, it's diamond-pure! In this kingdom, she's the only one who can wield magic like that! S-So, ...please spare me.
...And so the mage survived.
After taking a few hits.
But because of that testimony confirming only she could purify...
The priests, religious folk, and onlookers at the site all...
"A miracle! The Saintess performs a miracle!"
"Saintess..."
"Irene! Irene Windler!"
showered the girl with praise, calling her 'Daughter of God (Saintess)' without hesitation.
She hadn't used holy power—just magic—yet they called her a saintess.
It was absurd, but in a way, it was the buildup Irene had deliberately cultivated.
"She extinguished the fire in one go during the great blaze, right?"
"How could a single spell do that? It has to be the Saintess's power!"
The miracle of the great fire, where she summoned massive rain to instantly douse the flames engulfing the Great Temple and the mountainside.
One could chalk it up to her great mage talent, but the south was relatively ignorant of magic compared to other regions.
Being the kingdom of knights and [Mystery], people's view of mages was simplistic: 'Mages are humans with [Mystery].'
Plus, her rain had saved innocent lives that day, so praising Irene was natural. And while other mages were useless, Irene was turning scorched earth green...
This was basically...
'Her declaring "I'm the Saintess."'
A confluence of factors made it easier for people to just see Irene as the [Saintess], rather than fuss over the magic.
As her lord Roan had put it:
- People perceive situations and project fantasies onto others in ways that suit them. The temple fell, but the Light of Glory didn't. Who knows—maybe a new power to succeed Raphael has just been born.
He'd even predicted it.
And if his prediction held, the [Irene Saintess Theory] was set in stone—it wouldn't just vanish into thin air.
'...I know Irene isn't a saintess, but she looks divine anyway. Can't blame others for thinking even more so.'
Her fairy-like beauty as she soared through the sky, and the vital glow that pulsed through the earth with every sweep of her water-mana—it was holy. Whether Irene liked it or not, the girl was being hailed as the saintess...
'Self-inflicted.'
Jack thought.
She'd just come out with good intentions, thinking 'Sigh, might as well volunteer!' But the more she stepped up like this, the more she was...
'...Digging her own grave.'
Was this what they called self-imposed hardship?
"-Why are my ears so itchy?"
Irene tilted her head at the itch in her ears.
Was someone badmouthing her?
"Nah? No one would badmouth me."
[Arina, people need to be objective about themselves.]
"What does that mean?"
[It means plenty of people would badmouth you.]
"...You're mean."
Irene puffed her cheeks, scolding the ghost girl.
Whoosh!
Even annoyed, she didn't stop her magic.
[Arina, you're working so diligently? Not like you?]
"Wanna keep dissing me? ...I just think we should restore the fire damage quickly, right?"
[Hmm...]
Unlike her usual self, Irene was purely motivated to diligently restore the fire site.
It wasn't some sudden religious awakening or volunteer spirit—she genuinely wanted to fix the fire damage.
"...I just hate fires."
[Why?]
"The soldier uncle who saved me died in a fire."
[......]
"Oh, not here—this was back in my 'original world'."
[......]
"Sigh, that uncle was such a good guy... Like our instructor."
[Arina...]
"......"
Irene's face turned a bit sad, unlike her usual carefree expression.
Seeing the fire site stirred up old memories, and those memories naturally brought a longing for her original world... her home.
A world without magic or mystery, where she couldn't even use telekinesis like now. She'd have to walk on her own two feet and lose this beautiful appearance...
'I have to go back. Visit the soldier uncle's grave, and take the college entrance exam.'
Irene wanted to return somehow. This world was nice, but she missed her home life.
Her nagging but loving mom, her gruff but always protective dad. Her somewhat annoying but unfailingly supportive big brother and little sister.
The girl missed her family.
And,
"Right, I have an audition to go to."
...dreams to chase.
[You're still clinging to that ridiculous dream? You don't have idol vibes at all...]
"I can sing well."
[Sigh...! F-Fine, dreams are free.]
"Ugh...!"
Whoosh!
Irene poured her magic with renewed vigor, annoyed but diligent.
Her eventual homecoming was important, of course, but for now—
'Do my best with what's in front of me!'
Yes,
...just like our instructor.
The girl flew diligently through the sky, thinking of her beloved.
"-How long do I have to keep this up?"
"It's only been a day. Why are you complaining already?"
"A day is an eternity to me."
"Hey!"
"...I'm going insane."
The man whom the magic girl—currently being hailed as a saintess and whom she admired endlessly for always giving his all—was, for once, visibly troubled...
trembling with a fearful expression.
And who could blame him...!
"No training for the next week. You're resting—no exceptions."
"......Damn it."
He was terrified of the order to rest for a whole week.
...Muscle atrophy was no joke.