Earl Grey Twining, the Saintess Without an Apostle
Earl Grey Twining, the Saintess Without an Apostle
Earl Grey Twining. I was once a promising Saint. That's no lie. Even though I've become a laughingstock scorned by everyone now.
There was a time when even I was held in high regard by the prestigious Twining family, hailed as talent comparable to the First Saint-nim.
I possessed Divine Power worthy of that reputation.
My sense for handling Afterglow, and its output, were superior to anyone else's. Looking anywhere in the world, there was no Apostle with Divine Power as excellent as mine. Furthermore, my miracles happened to be the kind that people loved the most.
Miracles that heal wounds, lift up exhausted bodies, and strengthen both body and mind.
Stability, healing, and strengthening.
Because they weren't flashy miracles that scorched the battlefield, they were loved by everyone even more. When I took the hands of injured Apostles to help them up.
When I saw an alienated child from the slums fall asleep at my touch, people would look at me and smile.
Back then, I was loved.
Because I was useful.
It all crumbled in an instant.
That cursed Logos. A 4th generation Advent sealed 500 years ago for the crime of killing its Apostle and driving its Saint mad. That iron coffin, which had been sleeping without anyone paying it any mind.
One day, it suddenly designated me.
Usually, an Advent doesn't choose a Saint. It is the natural order for a Saint to choose an Apostle, and for the Apostle to pilot the Advent. But Logos flipped the natural order upside down and branded me as its Saint.
A Saint designated by Logos cannot switch to another Advent. And the Apostle who pilots Logos inevitably dies. Anyone who boards that machine burns through their lifespan until they perish.
From that day on, I became a Saint who would kill whoever became my Apostle.
In the dry and barren Twining family, I had no one I could call family, but there was someone I followed like a mother.
She was my Apostle candidate.
Someone who had taken good care of me since I was young, and had promised to become my Apostle someday.
I had trusted her. And the day Logos designated me, she left me. There wasn't even a goodbye.
I couldn't blame her. Who would come to die? Choosing to be my Apostle was no different from suicide.
There were a few others after that.
Those who approached me saying my face was pretty, or my benevolence was beautiful, but they too turned their backs the moment they saw the shadow of Logos.
It was only natural. Because to have me, one had to die.
Like that, I lost everything. A Saint who cannot be chosen by an Apostle has no value.
They called me a talent born once in a millennium, but I had become a defective product carrying a curse. The whispers pouring out behind my back. I pretended not to know and endured them.
That's why I went out to serve even more.
I didn't spare my body. I healed people until my Divine Power ran dry, and I roamed the slums until I collapsed. Until I didn't have the strength left to lift a finger.
...I had always liked helping others. That was sincere. But that wasn't everything. If I didn't do at least this much. If I didn't prove that I was useful.
I felt like I would become someone who didn't even have the value to be alive. That was scary.
And one day, the
Kyungdanryeon raided the capital of the Southern Cross.
Nova Crux in Northern Australia.
I don't know the reason, but someone in the Southern Cross intentionally placed me and Logos in the enemy's path to be attacked. Although I couldn't know their identity, they must have been a being powerful enough to intervene in my evacuation route, yet wishing for my death.
I had to face the Kyungdanryeon's Advent without an Apostle. In that desperate situation, the escort knights and soldiers fought, prepared for death, for the sake of someone as lacking as me.
They threw away their lives to help me escape until the very end. Only because of me. If I just died, I felt like I could be relieved.
It's enough now, so no one else has to die for someone like me. That's how I lost consciousness. Hoping never to wake up again.
But I was alive.
The place where I opened my eyes was on a hospital bed. Judging by the cross patterns hanging around, it seemed I had been moved by the Southern Cross reinforcements that arrived late.
...It was a strange thing.
Clearly, right before I collapsed, the last escort had suffered a fatal wound, and there was no one left to help me. There were enemies on all sides, and nowhere to run. I thought that was the end, and that's how I lost consciousness.
How did I survive?
I didn't remember well what happened while I was unconscious. Only one last scene, seen through blurry vision, remained vaguely.
The face of someone who was holding me.
I slowly sat up. My whole body was screaming, but I had become numb to pain a long time ago. But suddenly, I saw something shining above my head.
"...Huh?"
Above my field of vision, a faint ring of light was floating above my head.
"No way..."
I reached out, but as expected, it couldn't be touched. And it was still shining quietly in that spot. I knew what this was. Because a Saint couldn't not know it.
Halo.
When a Covenant is formed with an Apostle, it appears above the Saint's head—a sign that an Apostle has been created.
That thing I had never possessed even once in my life. It was now above my head. I should have been happy.
Because it was something I had longed for my whole life.
An Apostle.
The one person who wouldn't abandon me. It had finally appeared. But the first emotion I felt wasn't joy.
It was fear.
Ah. —In the end, I've killed one more person.
My Apostle designated by Logos has appeared. Someone has climbed into that iron coffin of their own volition. Someone who chose to slowly die for me, burning through their own lifespan.
Who on earth, who on earth, would do such a crazy thing.
That iron monster that ruined my life will swallow even that person this time. Why. Why, of all people, for someone like me... With trembling lips, I grabbed the healer beside me.
"My... who is my Apostle? A Halo has appeared, who on earth..."
Before the healer could answer, I remembered that man's face. It could only be that young man who was with me at the last moment. The face I had never seen before, which I had seen through blurry vision right before I collapsed.
To that person who was looking down at me with a look like he was about to cry.
'You're a very strange person.'
That was the last thing I had said.
'Why do you make that face for someone like me?'
While I was unconscious, what he did. How he pulled me out of that hell. I didn't know exactly. But I could intuit one thing.
He boarded Logos. To save me, he chose the path of risking his own life.
Clearly, his features were rarely seen in this Southern Cross. He seemed like someone from a distant country.
I thought he was likely of Eastern descent.
If he was an Easterner, the first thing that came to mind was.
East Asia Economic Union.
Kyungdanryeon for short.
The perpetrator of this raid.
He might be a suspicious person. I know my head tells me I should think that. But
'There's no way a person who was prepared to die for me could be a bad person.'
"Where is the Easterner who was with me right now?"
At my question, the healer hesitated for a moment.
And at the answer that returned, I doubted my ears.
"...He is in the interrogation room."
"...What did you say?"
"His origin is unclear, he unauthorizedly seized a sealed machine... he also attempted to kidnap you, Saint-nim, and based on the circumstances, it's judged that there's a high possibility he's a spy for Kyungdanryeon. He is currently being investigated."
Investigation. I know what that word means. Isn't it obvious what kind of 'investigation' this country performs on someone of unknown origin? It was torture.
This kind of emotion was truly a first. I was a person who never knew how to get angry in my whole life. Even when my family treated me like a nuisance, even when the person I followed abandoned me, even when people whispered behind my back, I just bowed my head and endured it.
Thinking it was because I was lacking. Thinking it was because I was cursed. I had never even possessed my share of anger.
But now. Inside my chest, something was boiling hot. The person who risked his life for me. The person who was prepared to die because of me.
Suspecting, imprisoning, and torturing him?
No. Not this time. My whole life, I only watched as people died because of me.
I only knew how to say I was sorry. But this person alone, just this once, I will protect him.
I kicked off the bed and stood up. My whole body hurt as if it were breaking, but it didn't matter. It was always like this. I was used to not sparing my body and grinding myself down until I broke. But this time was different.
All the overexertion until now was to prove that I was useful. It was a struggle for myself. But now. For the first time—I was running for someone else, not for me.
"Saint-nim?! You can't, you still need to stabilize..."
I shook off the healer's hand that was trying to stop me.
The voice that came out of my mouth was one even I was hearing for the first time. A low, firm, and unshaking voice.
"Lead the way. To him. Right now."
"...Saint-nim, that person might be a spy."
"Suspecting someone who risked their life for me."
I said, looking straight at him.
"I will not forgive it."
And I started running toward the hallway.