Chapter 2
Chapter 2
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Lord's Apple
-----------------------------------------------------------------
—I won’t live in a place like this.
Yurinel Rakfonzia... no, Yurinel had always been an extraordinary child.
—I’m going to rise in the world and become a noble. Someday, I’ll be greater than this village’s lord.
Her talent, ambition, and ability were all far beyond anything suited to someone like me.
Every child in the village—no, even the adults—feared Yurinel. She’d been precocious from a young age, and once she grew a bit, she took up the sword. While I couldn’t even swing a wooden practice sword properly, Yurinel was already defeating soldiers with a real blade.
“Now, listen well. An oracle has come down saying that a hero chosen by the three goddesses dwells in this village. Do any of you have a guess as to who it might be?”
She’d always been extraordinary, so it wasn’t surprising when she became the hero and set off.
When I met the returned Yurinel again, she was already shining brightly.
She’d gone on countless adventures, earned a noble title, and gathered party members far superior to me in every way. Deep down, I knew better than anyone that I couldn’t go all the way with her.
From the moment she drew the holy sword and became the hero, I might have already resigned myself to it.
“Yeah, I can never be as great as you.”
She had her own path in life,
and I had mine.
I’d followed Yurinel out of the village and adventured under the name of adventurer,
but now it was time to return to being Kyle, the nameless priest of a nameless god.
“Do you have any pumpkin seeds? Oh, and seed potatoes too?”
The job I’d chosen for myself was that of a farmer.
*****
When people hear “priest,” they often think it’s a job where you heal people and get paid for it.
But receiving money for healing with divine power is illegal. To be precise, only priests of the Triune Church have that right. Since the Triune Church priests watch like hawks, illegal healing comes with fines, and in severe cases, imprisonment in the temple’s underground dungeon.
“Healing is charity alone—it can’t be a means of making money.”
To make a living, I had to find my own way.
Even though farming wasn’t something to scoff at, the reason I chose to farm for my livelihood
was because I knew my Lord would help me.
My Lord never helps me carelessly.
Only when I make an effort and show my will does He give me a gentle push from behind.
If I do nothing, He does nothing for me either. But if I give my all, He will surely place something in my hands. I must strive—and have faith.
“And she gave me a generous amount even as I left.”
Whether it was a final gesture of goodwill toward a former comrade,
or hush money to prevent any future complaints, I didn’t know.
Either way, it was enough to buy a house with a vegetable patch.
“This is a vegetable garden, not a proper farm—the soil isn’t fertile enough for serious farming. Are you sure about this?”
“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to do my best.”
It wasn’t for wealth or glory that I tended the fields.
A yield enough to get by day to day would suffice.
‘Since I’ve got a new home, maybe I should say a prayer?’
After sending off the seed merchant, I sat at the table and lit a single candle.
He does not gain strength from prayers, yet I prayed anyway.
Because that was the duty of a believer.
A prayer doesn’t require elaborate rituals. That’s not what He desires.
There’s no need to preach faith.
He does not grow on faith.
There’s no need to recite ornate prayers.
No human rhetoric can reach Him anyway.
Lighting even a single candle while thinking of Him—that is prayer itself. As long as faith does not fade, the candle will burn forever.
And as long as that flame flickers, this place will always be a sanctuary. My complicated thoughts settle, becoming as calm as the candle’s glow.
‘Hm?’
Finishing my prayer and stepping out into the kitchen, I noticed fruit on the tree in the vegetable patch.
The tree had been there when I bought the place, and now it bore about nine apples. It was peculiar. I hadn’t seen any fruit earlier, and it was winter now.
Not the temperature or season for apples. But this too was the will of the divine.
‘They haven’t frozen yet.’
I picked the apples—fresh as if just harvested—and brought them inside in a basket.
The future branches into nearly infinite possibilities, including many so improbable they’re usually dismissed.
For example, the chance of nine apples appearing on a tree in midwinter.
The Lord simply willed that slim possibility into certain reality.
Why He did so, a mere human like me cannot know His intent. I can only infer.
He sees things differently from me, and His intuition overwhelms someone like me.
No matter how much I rack my brain, I know I can’t keep up with His will.
I simply move forward in the direction that seems most right with my small mind.
‘Sweet.’
Crunch!
The apple was sweet as honey. One filled my belly.
It was delicious, but I didn’t crave a second. So I covered the basket with cloth to keep them from freezing, dressed, and headed out. Well, this was my interpretation of His will.
He gave me nine, not one. Though one would have been enough for me.
Surely, it meant to share the other eight with someone. Of course, it might not.
Maybe He just wanted to give me nine. I could be misinterpreting His intent entirely. Who was I, a human, to know the Lord’s desires?
I would simply act on what I wanted to do. Even if it wasn’t exactly His will, it wouldn’t go against it.
‘Who should I share them with?’
In this small outskirts of Larphentia, houses are few and far between.
I was thinking of heading to the market when the door of a house I was passing opened, and a gentleman in a neatly worn coat stepped out. I approached him quietly and greeted him.
“Hello. I’m Kyle, the one who just moved into the house next door.”
“Rubelt. Smith mentioned he was selling the place and moving to the countryside. Looks like you bought it.”
“Would you like some fresh apples? Common in autumn, but rare in midwinter.”
“Apples? Fresh apples?”
But the gentleman’s reaction was odd.
Rare in winter, sure, but was it that shocking?
Puzzled, I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, he reached out and touched the basket. He picked one of the freshly picked apples and bit into it.
“Real apples... Oh, Heavenly God! Have You answered my son’s prayers!”
...One thing was clear.
The Heavenly God Aldehir—worshipped even before the Triune Gods and still revered nearly as much—was not the Lord I served. Of course, I didn’t say that aloud.
“I’ll buy them all. How much? Name your price.”
“I can’t take money for something so trivial. I was going to give them as a gift anyway.”
These apples weren’t the fruit of my labor.
I hadn’t even put in the effort to plant the tree.
They were simply bestowed by the Lord. I couldn’t sell them for money.
That wouldn’t be what He—or I—wanted.
“Take them. May the divine blessings be upon you.”
“To think I’d find such kindness! Blessings upon you too! Truth is, my bedridden son has been craving apples these past few days. Freshly picked ones! Where could I find those in this freezing cold? It’s just been burning my heart as a father.”
Ah. Then it clicked why the Lord had given me these apples.
I made the sign of the cross and asked,
“Is your son ill?”
“Sigh... It started a few months ago. He caught a cold—normally over in two weeks—but it lingered a month and only worsened. We took him to the temple in the end, got him treated with divine power. But...”
With the help of a priest of Hila, the Goddess of Healing, they drove out the cold.
But that was just the beginning. Even after treatment, his son’s complexion didn’t improve.
“He’d get dizzy often, lost color in his face, red spots appeared on his skin, and he complained his bones ached. Bleeding wouldn’t stop, and this healthy boy turned pale and sickly. We went back to the temple for more divine healing, but it only brightened his face temporarily—back to square one in a day...”
“Have you found a way to treat him?”
“We learned divine power can’t cure it, so we’ve called herbalists to brew potions. Whether they’ll work is up to the heavens.”
I was almost certain now. The reason the Lord gave me these apples.
Saving the sick and dying is a believer’s duty. Whether I could save Rubelt’s son with my own power, even I couldn’t guarantee. But trying was better than doing nothing.
“Rubelt, may I see your son for a moment?”
“That’s... difficult...”
“Though I don’t serve the Triune Gods, I am a priest who serves my own Lord. I believe there’s reason He guided me here.”
An emerald-green glow gathered above my hand, shining brightly.
He is always watching me. I believe that without doubt.
I trust not in my power, but in the Lord’s.
Since He led me here, there must be a chance to save him. Rubelt pondered, seeing my confident demeanor.
“Honestly, I don’t trust you. I doubt you can save my son when the priests gave up. But Kyle, at this rate, he’ll die anyway.”
In the end, he agreed to let me see his son.
“I’m grasping at straws right now. If you can help, I’ll be grateful.”
* * *