Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Lost Purpose
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“Hero.”
Araidel wasn’t a fool who only knew the goddess.
She wasn’t a wooden puppet without ego or will.
Even though their time together hadn’t been long, it was enough for her to notice that the hero party treated her politely but not intimately.
“If I have any shortcomings, I’ll apologize to you right here.”
“Shortcomings? Lady Saintess, you’ve more than fulfilled your role.”
“Do Pannel and Lady Lucia think the same?”
As Araidel gave a wry smile, Yurinel nodded.
“I’m sure they do. Lady Saintess, you’ve devoted yourself to us with all your effort.”
“It was just my best effort.”
The saintess, who had sat down next to Yurinel, murmured while gazing at the stars flowing across the sky.
“I wouldn’t settle for that much.”
“Lady Saintess, why say such things...”
“Hero. Even a temple is, in the end, a place where people live.”
If Saintess Araidel had taken the seat to the hero’s left, Archbishop Rhienheim had settled on the right.
She flashed a bright smile at the hero, who looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“It’s never a clean place. Dirty power struggles and political calculations fly back and forth. To become a bishop in such a place, you can’t always gaze purely at the goddess.”
And yet, the goddess acknowledged them and bestowed divine power because
rotten things and a lack of faith were entirely different matters.
So what if they loved money? As long as their faith was fervent. So what if they craved power? As long as they served her that much.
It was hard to find a high-ranking temple official who was spotless, but just as hard to find one with shallow faith. Someone shouting ‘Goddess, mess around and I’ll kill you myself!’ couldn’t even snag a lowly priest position, let alone rise high. They’d be dragged off by holy knights for blasphemy long before that.
“That’s why I came along as Lady Saintess’s aide. She must maintain her untainted white purity, now and in the future. Not to brag, but reaching archbishop in a place like the theocracy means I know a thing or two about politics.”
Only the saintess was the exception. The saintess was chosen directly by the goddess.
It was declared with as much scrutiny as adopting a daughter—how could humans contradict a god’s thorough vetting? Not a single high-ranking theocrat lacked faith.
The current pope of the Nemi Church was a filthy man whose home was rumored to be adorned with golden statues in the garden and who had illegitimate children, but he was also a devout believer.
He didn’t hesitate to fast and pray for days despite his old age. Without genuine devotion to the divine, he never would have risen to pope. Such a pope wouldn’t mistreat the saintess.
In this web of power struggles, the saintess alone had to be the exception,
untouchable by any scheme. Attacking her was tantamount to rebellion against the goddess.
Sending this precious saintess to the hero party was half her own will, half the goddess’s decree. The pope had sent his most trusted aide, Rhienheim, because she was that exceptional.
“Lady Saintess is the goddess’s proxy. But she’s still inexperienced, so the goddess wishes for her to travel with you all, gain experience, and achieve feats befitting a child of the divine.”
“I see...”
“Just my personal opinion, but I think our saintess outshines even the saintesses of Elycia and Hila. Inexperienced or not, a saintess is a saintess. No priest on this continent can surpass her abilities.”
She’d known it.
She’d expected as much.
That’s why she’d cast Kyle out so easily.
“But you all seem displeased with Lady Saintess. Is there some reason she doesn’t sit well with you? Have we been rude to you in any way?”
Yurinel’s head throbbed. But brushing it off with a lie here wasn’t an option.
Fooling someone as perceptive as Rhienheim wasn’t easy. Even if she tricked her once, those sharp eyes would sense the dissonance eventually.
“It’s a misunderstanding. Actually, before Lady Saintess arrived, we had a priest with us.”
“A priest? What rank? Bishop? Temple master?”
“We thought he was just an ordinary priest, but he probably wasn’t. We should’ve realized it from the moment he said he was the only one on the continent who believed in his god.”
Did she love that guy? No, not really. Their personalities clashed too much from the start.
Yurinel prioritized success over men. Seizing power and glory was her goal. Establishing even greater feats to climb where others couldn’t even dream—that was her aspiration.
Of course, she held no grudge against Kyle. The saintess simply seemed better.
The future leader of the theocracy was a far superior partner to Kyle in ability and position. Worthy of walking her path to success, someone worth holding hands with.
Since Kyle had saved her multiple times, she’d paid him handsomely, including severance for his life debt. She thought that settled it.
She only realized her calculations were off after sending him away. She had no way of knowing what he was doing now, even until his final moments when he’d blessed her before leaving.
“A god believed in by only one person? Impossible. Even a minor deity guarding a village or tribe needs at least dozens of faithful to sustain existence. A god with just one believer isn’t a god at all. Unless it’s a being that doesn’t need faith to begin with...”
Rhienheim’s expression darkened.
“No way...”
“The spring that you said was imbued with an ancient god’s power—that priest created it.”
“W-where is he now? Can I meet him? Matters involving ancient gods aren’t just important to me; the goddess herself takes them seriously!”
Her usual composure shattered in an instant. That was the weight of an ancient god.
Even the Three Main Gods were nothing before them. If he was truly a priest of an ancient god, the best course was to draw him in, build goodwill, and avoid enmity at all costs.
Given the Three Gods Church’s current might, killing an ancient god’s saint might not even be hard. But that would be utter madness.
Unlike personal gods, who suffered greatly from a saint or saintess’s death, an ancient god’s power didn’t wane with a follower’s demise. How vast the universe, how insignificant humanity. The power granted to one person, no matter how great, was but a cup from the sea compared to an ancient god’s might.
If an enraged ancient god wore down its ego to curse this world, the aftermath would be endless. They didn’t take devotees lightly.
If a cherished being fell to lesser foes, they could truly fly into rage. The Three Gods Church, hoarding ancient records, knew this well.
Before humans or demons rose. Before the Three Gods dominated history, why had the continent-ruling vampires crumbled so pathetically?
She knew the reason. A single curse from an ancient god had shattered their hegemony.
Now, vampires huddled in a single fief, awaiting extinction as a weak race.
“We... drove him away.”
Rhienheim stared blankly. For a moment, she thought she’d misheard.
After quickly scanning Yurinel’s face, she wore an expression like she was looking at an idiot.
The look lasted only a split second before vanishing, but Yurinel saw it clearly.
“You... drove away a priest of an ancient god?”
“Yes. We didn’t grasp his value at the time.”
“Of course you... No, then...”
It was deflating yet fortunate. The hero party hadn’t rejected the saintess herself; they’d just been stumped by her lacking skills.
No shame in that. No fault in the saintess’s efforts.
Against a priest of an ancient god, there was no retort even in comparison. It was like bearing the universe’s own blessing—how could even the goddess’s daughter compete?
“I suspected as much. My abilities really were insufficient.”
Even Rhienheim couldn’t be helped. The saintess murmured bitterly.
“What a mess. You must have had high hopes, and I failed to meet them.”
“Why say such things? We can all just try a bit harder together.”
At least the conversation had cleared the misunderstanding. Rhienheim relaxed, and the saintess felt relieved.
Nothing was more awkward than unexplained rejection. But they’d talked it out and resolved it—what was there to do but improve from here?
For each one’s purpose.
For the values each pursued.
Uniting, pooling their strength,
they could surely advance.
‘Revenge.’
The common foe of the three: the primordial demon king Grimudo.
Could they point their blades at him once more?
Under the banner of revenge, could they charge?
Trusting the saintess’s power and abilities, could they head north again?
It seemed utterly impossible. The hero party had lost its purpose.
A hero who’d lost the goal of slaying the greatest demon king was no longer a hero. Just an adventurer.
‘A dream we can no longer achieve.’
The second-greatest demon king, Harma El, had nearly unified the demon forces.
For five to pierce that force and assassinate the Demon Empress was near impossible. In the end, all they could do was strike at Harma El’s scattered minions.
‘Then what exactly are we supposed to do?’
The initial goal of toppling Grimudo had at some point shifted to personal ambition,
perhaps because they’d all inwardly admitted it: their purpose had been hopeless from the start.
With Kyle, they’d at least neared Grimudo, but now they couldn’t even dream of it. Facing him again meant certain death.
No matter what status Saintess Araidel held in the theocracy, it meant nothing before Grimudo.
To survive him, only skill mattered. Kyle had saved the whole party and escaped before Grimudo, but no one believed the saintess could fill that role.
‘With that guy, we could’ve at least tried a surprise attack on Harma El.’
There had been a priest whose support and defense outstripped even the saintess.
With his full backing, storming in, beheading Harma El, and escaping myriad demon legions might’ve been feasible. He’d saved them all from Grimudo.
As if demon legions could surpass Grimudo and his monster horde?
Of course, attempting that with Araidel was just suicide.
The vast skill gap couldn’t be bridged, no matter the strategy.
Yurinel was the hero, but she had no intention of sacrificing her life for duty. Death rendered glory and riches meaningless. She wasn’t that noble.
If they couldn’t strike Grimudo for personal revenge or Harma El for heroic duty,
the hero party needed to seriously question its very meaning.
‘We might need a strategic retreat.’
No, not retreat.
Just a temporary counterassault to counter the enemy’s next moves.
But whether retreat or counterassault, safely returning to the empire was another matter.
Wars start when you want but end only when you beg. Even if Yurinel wanted to end her little war, that decision was no longer hers.
All rulings came from far above, from that far north.
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