Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: The Drying Spring
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No air: 3 minutes.
No warmth: 3 hours.
No water: 3 days.
No food: 3 weeks.
These are the conditions required for the fragile human body to function.
Heroes, saintesses, knights, archmages—all of them are fundamentally human.
They can't escape the rule of 3333. Without food, they can't advance. Without water, they wither and die. Cold winds or scorching sun keep them from performing at full capacity.
“Huff... huff... Aren't you all hot?”
Saintess Araidel was no different. No matter how much she reinforced herself with holy power, trudging through the sinking sand under the blazing sun made her feel like she wanted to die.
Past or present, the desert isn't terrain suited for human travel,
and that's true for all living creatures. That's why the hero party is crossing this place on purpose.
The Sandea Desert is a place shunned by all life—even demons hate it.
It's just a vast expanse of sand with nowhere to hide, not even from enemies. Stand still, and you can see clearly to the horizon.
Ambush? Forget about it. Hiding in the sand would cook you before you could even attack.
Of course, this also means the hero party has nowhere to hide, but given their current abilities, it'd take an absurdly huge army to encircle them and starve them out. Any commander who marched that size of force through a place like this would have to be a fool.
“No, aren't you tired? Your stamina is really impressive...”
That was why Araidel was simply amazed.
She could accept it from Hero Yurinel Rakfoncia or Knight Lucia Western.
Those two had probably trained extensively and built their stamina like it was part of their daily meals.
Even if their endurance far surpassed hers, it wouldn't be all that unreasonable.
“Miss Parnel, you're even smaller than me, yet you're walking without a single drop of sweat. I should learn from your example.”
“Ah, well... I'm used to it.”
“As expected of the heroes who will save the world! Right, I can't afford to tire out here as the saintess! Let's keep pushing!”
Parnel's expression grew strange. In truth, her secret wasn't stamina but a single feather tucked securely in her pocket—one of the items Kyle had left behind when he departed. The Bluebird Feather.
Like the sanctuary candles, this too was a miracle, but people don't consider things right beside them to be all that rare. Parnel hadn't thought much of the feather either.
Yet it seemed even the saintess couldn't replicate its effects. Parnel subtly pushed the feather deeper into her pocket. Losing it would be a real disaster.
Kyle had prayed to the god exactly three times for his own sake up to now, and each time, the god had granted him a miracle in response.
When everyone had fallen into the scheme of the Sea Demon King, Supaja (??者) Grozam, and faced annihilation by drowning, he answered that prayer by bestowing the Bluebird Feather.
When Kyle felt he wasn't contributing enough to the party and prayed for a means to make up for it, he received the Star Dream Observatory, allowing him to take on a greater role.
And the final prayer wasn't directed at the hero party but focused solely on one girl, returning in the form of the Lineage Sapling. The god had granted him various other miracles as well, but these three were the only ones Kyle had directly requested and received.
The Bluebird Feather.
Happiness is right beside you.
No hardship can invade.
Even ten thousand ri beneath the sea, it resists pressure and allows you to breathe.
The heat of lava zones that turn trees to charcoal cannot touch its bearer.
Glacial cold, poison pits, demonic abysses—even radiation zones—
No environmental condition can surpass the protection of the Bluebird Feather.
The desert feels as comfortable as your own living room, and hot winds feel like cool breezes.
Realizing this wasn't normal came as its own shock to Parnel. It was unfortunate for the saintess struggling to keep up, but the desert wasn't something you could bulldoze through with willpower alone.
“Bishop, aren't you hot?”
“It is hot.”
Bishop Ruenheim replied. Her priestly robes were already soaked with sweat, clinging to her body.
“But complaining won't change anything. It just makes your mouth drier.”
“Does the bishop have emotions? Are you human?”
“Chattering like that will only make it hotter. But it seems even you and the saintess are at your limit, so how about a short break?”
Even someone as iron-willed as her couldn't escape the limits of stamina. The group exchanged silent glances and decided to rest for a bit. Aside from the two of them, no one else had broken a sweat.
“Hey, Yurinel.”
Stroking the Bluebird Feather, Lucia Western whispered in a lowered voice.
“Was kicking Kyle out really the right decision?”
“No point bringing that up now—it's already too late. We all agreed to it.”
Yurinel Rakfoncia replied with a stern expression. Thinking back on it, there hadn't been any major friction between them and Kyle.
They had expelled him purely based on ability, but now it left a sour taste. And she couldn't blame the saintess for it either. The saintess was truly giving her all to help them.
“Should we have kept him around a bit longer, tested our compatibility, and then decided...”
“Don't drag up the past. We don't even know where that guy is now.”
“That's exactly why I'm saying this. This feather—it's starting to wear out.”
Lucia pulled out the Bluebird Feather and muttered gravely.
“Its size has shrunk, just a tiny bit from earlier. Once it's used up, it'll disappear. We need to find a replacement fast.”
“There is condition magic as a substitute, but...”
Archmage Parnel cut in.
“It might last an hour or two on one person, but maintaining it indefinitely on five? There won't be any mana left for actual combat. And it's questionable whether it'd match this feather's effectiveness.”
Miracles persist only through divine will. Kyle is the apostle who represents the will of the God of Hope.
The final blessing he left behind when he departed from the group is the power sustaining the Bluebird Feather, but after that, he no longer invoked blessings for the hero party.
Even as the god's apostle, without ascending to heaven, he remains human flesh and blood.
He faces immense constraints in every way. The God of Hope may have no limits, but Kyle does.
Blessings no longer needed can be cut off, freeing up power for elsewhere. Blindly granting blessings would let the outflow exceed the inflow, hastening ascension.
He figured they'd do fine without him anyway.
They're the heroes of this world, after all.
That's why the priest decided to focus solely on the little girl before him. That's why the sanctuary candles he had lit everywhere were flickering out, and the reviving springs were drying up.
Even with the Bluebird Feather shielding them from the environment, prolonged marching brings its own fatigue.
The three of them felt the drain on their stamina as well. After all, to swing their swords one more time in battle, it was best to rest when they could.
With Kyle around, his verdant holy power had washed away fatigue and elevated their bodies to peak condition, allowing them to march all day. But Nemi's holy power simply couldn't match that.
Even the saintess, who possessed a vast reserve of holy power, was exhausted. No matter how impressive holy power was, it could only partially offset stamina loss—it couldn't fully replace it.
“Huh? Was the spring always this small?”
“Without renewing the blessing, it's shrinking.”
The oasis they had created in the Sandea Desert. The reviving spring was no longer what it used to be.
It was still enough for five people to quench their thirst. However, its clear waters had visibly diminished, and it wouldn't be long before it dried up completely. That meant they had to abandon this route.
Or stockpile more water.
Fill their sub-spaces to the brim—really pack it in.
Of course, even that wouldn't fully replace this reviving spring.
This water had more uses than one might think.
“Kyaa! This water tastes incredible!”
The saintess filled a waterskin, took a sip, and broke into a delighted smile. It was so sweet that two or three gulps quenched her thirst and melted away her fatigue.
It wasn't just a feeling.
Energy returned to her weary body, and she felt like her dreams that night would be pleasant.
Her profuse sweat tapered off, and a cool sensation enveloped her exhausted form. Despite the blazing sun, the spring water was cool, pristine without a speck of dust despite having no cover.
The reviving spring was a miracle, and water produced by a miracle was naturally holy water.
It wasn't limited to stamina recovery—it was highly effective for curse removal and wound healing as well. The panacea wasn't some distant legend; this spring water was the real deal.
“Fill up some water. Let's wash a bit.”
“Should I do a quick laundry? I didn't sweat, but it's still sticky.”
“Guess I should polish my sword.”
Lucia scooped some water and wiped down her blade, muttering to herself.
“It's dulled a lot while I wasn't paying attention.”
Wiping a sword with ordinary water is the perfect way to rust it,
but this was holy water. Simply rinsing it extended the blade's lifespan, sharpened its edge on its own, and even added a holy enchantment effect. It was as versatile as the finest sword oil.
Splash!
Parnel pulled out a large tub, filled it to the brim, stripped off her clothes, and dunked them in. She pulled them out right away. They began drying immediately and were soon fluffy enough to wear again. Just a quick dip had washed away the grime and dust, leaving them pristine as new.
Of course, the clothes now carried a faint infusion of divine power as a bonus.
“Amazing water. Is it holy water?”
Whether you called it a trace or a remnant,
Bishop Ruenheim could sense the power of some great being emanating from this spring.
That power didn't clash with the holy power she wielded; instead, it seamlessly blended in and did exactly what it was meant to. It didn't mix like oil and water, nor did it interfere—it simply achieved its purpose.
Ruenheim scooped up a bottle of water and infused it with her holy power, then fell silent. No matter how much of the Goddess's holy power she poured in, it was like filling a bottomless jar—only the holy power drained away, with no change whatsoever.
Even if she expended enough to sanctify an entire pond, this single bottle endlessly absorbed Nemi's power without altering in the slightest.
Whoever had created this spring, their stature was at least a cut above Goddess Nemi.
Ordinary folk might scoff—what exists higher than the chief god?—but as a high-ranking member of the church, she knew. Such beings did exist.
Ruenheim adjusted her glasses and murmured.
“A spring infused with the power of the Ancient Gods. To discover something like this—truly befitting the hero party. You are adventurers of legend.”
“The Ancient Gods?”
The hero party looked puzzled at the sudden mention.
Yurinel was a commoner orphan despite her noble title.
Parnel had entered the Magic Tower as a child and lacked common knowledge. Lucia came from a prestigious family but had lost her parents young.
None of them knew anything about the Ancient Gods. At most, that such things existed?
Even the saintess—who wasn't an orphan, had a fine background, and living parents—didn't know.
She glanced at the bishop with a quizzical expression.
“The Ancient Gods? They really exist?”
“You probably wouldn't know, Saintess. There's no benefit in knowing.”
A being higher than the one they served.
But one that was irrelevant, with no reason to know of it.
What reason would the church's bishops or cardinals have to inform the saintess of such Ancient Gods? If anything, they had to hide their existence. Only the high echelons of the church knew; the priests below them were ignorant of the Ancient Gods.
At best, they were gods from ancient times.
Gods from a bygone era that no longer existed.
But the Ancient Gods existed just as much then as they do now, unchanged. They simply lacked ego—or even if they had one, communication was impossible.
“No benefit in knowing? So you and the others have been conspiring to deceive me?”
Ruenheim soothed the saintess, who had puffed out her cheeks, and continued kindly.
“It truly is knowledge with no practical use, so we simply didn't pass it on. If the Saintess wishes to know, I can tell you everything. Well... where should I begin?”
One of the secrets the Triune Church had kept tightly hidden began to spill from her lips.
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