Thus Saith Goddess Yustia (6)
"…May the grace of Goddess Yustia be with you all."
With those words, I concluded the not-quite-mass.
The people rose quietly from their seats as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Some bowed their heads in greeting, others murmured softly to their neighbors as they headed outside. The awkwardness I'd felt the first time I witnessed this scene had all but faded now.
In truth, I'd never been baptized, never formally joined the Holy Light Church. If asked whether I had any right to stand in a place like this, the honest answer would be no.
Yet I couldn't bring myself to stop. This was something I'd always wanted to do. A faint smile tugged at my lips. In a way, it was a personal indulgence. Plenty of people would call me crazy for it.
Besides, I believed there was some divine purpose in how my once-frail body was holding up so well. At the very least, that's how I chose to see it. There was no other way to explain it. And if that was the goddess's will, then following it was only right, wasn't it?
As I exchanged light greetings with the lingering folks, my gaze drifted toward the church entrance.
A lone figure stood in the doorway.
Through the gaps left by the departing crowd, I caught a glimpse of familiar pink hair.
I blinked.
No way, I thought first.
"…Lilia?"
Smiling, I approached her.
Up close, her expression came into sharp focus. The sharp wariness from before was still there, but not quite the same. She looked awkward, tense—like someone ready to bolt at any moment.
"Long time no see."
I greeted her casually.
Lilia averted her eyes for a second, then met my gaze again.
"…This place."
She started, then glanced around the church interior.
People tidying up, chatting and laughing, children wiping the floors.
"…You did this?"
Her voice dripped with disbelief. I thought for a moment and shook my head.
"I just got it started. A lot of people helped out."
"Hilarious."
But her mouth wasn't smiling.
"Back then, you just seemed like some weirdo."
"Can't deny that."
I grinned at her words.
Lilia let out a sigh-like breath and crossed her arms.
"…Heard the rumors."
She hesitated.
"Food, jobs, beds—for anyone who needs 'em."
"As much as they need."
"Sounds like a scam."
Her barbs kept making me chuckle.
"Not bad that the rumors spread. We got to meet again because of it."
She narrowed her eyes.
"…That funny to you?"
"Yeah."
Short and sweet. No lie there.
She fell silent for a bit, then looked deeper into the church.
Her old crew was pitching in with the work, it seemed.
"…Those guys."
"They're working hard."
"They're not like that."
"I think everyone deserves one chance."
Lilia went quiet for a long stretch.
Her eyes moved slowly, like she was calculating something.
Then she scratched her head and spoke.
"…Hey."
She paused.
"…Still need extra hands?"
I didn't answer right away, just looked at her.
It was a far cry from our first meeting.
Which made it all the more welcome.
I smiled softly.
"Always short-staffed."
Someone inside called her name. Lilia glanced that way and clicked her tongue softly.
"…This is gonna take some getting used to, seriously."
Even as she grumbled, her feet were already carrying her inside. I watched her go in silence.
Somehow…
The church was about to get a little noisier—in a good way.
The church's days were busier than you'd think.
Mornings filled the kitchen with folks prepping meals. Afternoons turned the courtyard into a chaotic mix of hauling supplies and playing kids.
Evenings drew everyone together for stories.
And at the center of it all…
"…Hey, that's not how you lift that!"
…was Lilia.
She was the talk of the church.
"No way you're making kids haul heavy stuff! Gimme that!"
She snatched the sack from a child's arms with practiced ease.
The kids stared blankly.
"Sis… it's an empty sack."
"…What?"
Lilia shook it. It fluttered lightly.
A beat of silence, then laughter erupted from behind. Her face flushed crimson.
"Shut up!"
She dumped the sack with extra grumpiness. The first few days had been full of misunderstandings—like when she instinctively snatched a coin that fell from a kid's pocket and froze.
She stared at it for a long moment before quietly handing it back.
"…I don't steal anymore."
The kids just nodded, no suspicion. If anything, it made her more uncomfortable.
Being trusted wasn't something she was used to.
I watched from afar.
"She's adjusting."
A guy carrying trays beside me chuckled. One of the folks I'd brought in. The old him was gone.
Now his actions showed real diligence.
"Lilia-sis is scary… but soft on kids."
"People are like that."
That's all I said.
He hesitated, then spoke up.
"…But."
His voice dropped.
"Things outside the village feel off lately."
I turned to him.
"How so?"
"Rumors of someone wandering at night."
"Thieves?"
"Nah… not that vibe. Ah, forget it."
His words lingered oddly, though brief.
I just nodded, said nothing.
……
That night.
Lilia sat alone in the church's back courtyard after finishing work.
She stared at her palms.
"…."
Calluses were forming.
"…This is insane."
A hollow laugh escaped her.
Church work paid nothing. Her body ached more, freedom was limited.
Yet her mind felt at ease.
"What the hell am I…."
Then.
Crunch.
A faint sound from beyond the wall. Lilia's eyes sharpened instantly.
Her body tensed on reflex. Old habits.
She turned slowly.
In the darkness, something flitted across the walltop.
A human shadow. Tall, broad-shouldered silhouette…
And a familiar gait.
"…No way."
Her face hardened.
By the time she stood to check, it was gone.
She stared at the spot for a while.
"…Rate?"
No reply.
But the sense that someone was watching lingered.
Deep into the night. Inside a building in the woods on the outskirts of quiet Brunel village.
A man stumbled in, breathing raggedly.
It was Rate.
His clothes were disheveled, like he hadn't bothered fixing them. His eyes mixed irritation and anxiety; he kept glancing back before finally stopping.
"…I saw him."
No immediate response.
Moments later, a figure emerged slowly from the tree shadows.
An old man with a cane.
Brunel's village chief, Matias.
His face showed raw annoyance instead of warmth.
"So."
Low, dry voice.
"Certain?"
Rate ground his teeth.
"Yeah. That bastard who wrecked our hideout."
Matias's eyes narrowed.
"…And you still haven't caught him."
Blatant fury laced the words.
The few priests nearby bowed silently. They wore official Holy Light Church robes.
Matias jabbed his cane into the floor. Thud.
"Sent the vigilantes."
Once.
"Contacted the knights."
Again.
"And you can't handle one man?"
One priest ventured cautiously.
"…Reports say he's rallying the poor. Building power around the church."
"Power."
Matias barked a laugh at the word.
"Calls a few beggars 'power.'"
But his eyes weren't laughing.
"The issue is…."
Another priest continued.
"The knights got taken down too. He's no ordinary guy. Not sure how to—"
Silence fell briefly.
Matias tilted his head, as if struck by a thought.
"…Hold on."
He eyed Rate.
"What'd you say earlier?"
"…Huh?"
"That man."
Matias's lips curled slowly.
"He holds masses?"
Rate nodded after a pause.
"Yeah. Gathers folks and preaches or whatever."
Then.
Matias's laugh leaked out. An ugly sound.
He turned to the priests behind him.
"If… just if…."
His tone shifted to something deceptively soft.
"A layman apes a priest… what happens?"
The priests' faces hardened in unison. Then realization dawned; they exchanged glances.
One answered.
"…He's branded a heretic."
Matias's smile deepened.
The priests bowed.
"…Understood."
One stepped forward.
"We'll make a formal request to the Holy Kingdom."
And the priests nodded to each other knowingly.
"Send the Heretic Inquisitors."