The Saint Who Wants to Rest
The Saint and the One Who Wants to Rest. How was the world created? Where do the dead go? What kind of life should we live? Fundamental questions that anyone might ponder at least once while living. The system created to study and teach these truths is known as religion. And among them exists one called the Goddess Church.
It emerged when the Divine Spear and the Dungeon appeared on the surface and five dragons descended to build a small city. This faith possessed one distinctive feature that set it apart from all others: the overwhelming majority of its followers were adventurers.
The believers of the Goddess Church had never been scholars devoted to religious study. They were not charlatans seeking power and wealth through faith. They were ordinary people who had simply swallowed their fear and stepped into the unknown, all because they wanted to survive, to live better than they had before. The only difference was the depth of their desperation.
Some went to the dungeon to support sick parents and young children. Others sought cures for crippling injuries or disabilities. Many simply wanted to fill their empty stomachs. Each carried a faith deeper than anything else in their hearts, praying that the mythical beings who called themselves sub-administrators—and their master, the Goddess of Fortune—would smile upon them.
Yet religious faith is betrayed with alarming frequency. Because the object of that faith, a god, does not exist in reality.
A god is a fictional construct born from the desperation and madness of suffering humans, shaped by the cold calculations of those in power. It is a device created to bind ignorant masses together under the absolute authority of an omnipotent being called God. A false entity spawned from belief. That is the true nature of what we call a god. Which is why faith is always betrayed—before a pure white lie that everyone knows yet pretends not to see.
But the Goddess Church was different. No—the Goddess herself was different!
Unlike other gods who ignored fervent prayers and devotion no matter how many times they were offered, the Goddess always answered those who worked hard and moved forward with genuine faith.
You have entered the dungeon in Real Name state! This is no easy choice—a great achievement! Praise for your shining courage that refused to yield to the fear of the unknown and took one step forward through the darkness.
You have acquired the skill: Status Condition Immunity!
May light accompany the proud path that lies before you.
My... eyes can see again? Ah, aaaaah... Thank you. Thank you...!
She always answered those who worked hard and stepped forward with faith. Unlike the false gods who did not exist, she—the Goddess—was real in this world. Some fools tried to dismiss it all as lies, but they were silenced before the undeniable miracles of the Divine Tower and the Goddess’s Blessing. A real god. Visible miracles. Faith that was rewarded. The impact was enormous. Faith bloomed even in lifelong skeptics, and global crime rates plummeted. Thanks to this, the Goddess Church grew more righteous, upright, and rapidly than any other faith.
And right now, in this very place, there was one pure-hearted boy whose faith was so strong he had awakened the Saint skill. His purity was so overwhelming that even the Goddess herself felt slightly overwhelmed by it. This white-haired, adorable boy who wandered the Dungeon City treating injured adventurers for free was named Johannes Grace. His father was the current Pope of the Holy Kingdom, and his mother was an active 8-Tier adventurer and Paladin who led the holy knights.
Born into a life of such privilege that Raven might have mockingly called him a diamond-spoon brat, the now thirteen-year-old Johannes—affectionately called Yohan—was troubled these days.
“Sir Knight, I want to become strong quickly.”
“Then you must not leave any carrots on your plate.”
“Ahh… Goddess…”
He wanted to become a strong adventurer like his mother and father as soon as possible, so he could swiftly fulfill the great mission and trials the Goddess had given to humanity. But at only thirteen, it was not easy. He was shorter than other boys his age, and his muscles were so soft that female believers constantly wanted to touch them. With such a frail body, he could barely handle a 1-Tier monster at the entrance of the Green Zone, let alone confront the Betrayer said to dwell in the dungeon’s deepest layers.
Of course, Yohan’s class was not a frontline fighter but a rear support role focused on healing rather than firepower or sniping. Even so, he felt he was simply too weak.
Perhaps my heart got ahead of itself?
Originally, Yohan should have been training as a knight under his mother in the Holy Kingdom, not in the Dungeon City. But ever since he was little, he had only seen the Sanctuary—known to the world as the Dungeon City Bastion—through books and pictures. He desperately wanted to visit that holy place. So the ten-year-old Yohan, who had always been called gentle and clever, threw his very first tantrum.
“…Mother, Father. I know I am still young and lacking, but… could you please send me to the Sanctuary for this pilgrimage? Please…? Yes…?”
“Our stoic son is acting cute? Cute? Yohan is acting cute……”
“Dear… come back to your senses.”
Having grown up watching stoic and devout holy knights, Yohan had always been mature for his age. Yet faced with his sparkling eyes and slightly nasal aegyo, his son-obsessed parents could only grant permission. And so, at ten years old, Yohan stepped into the Sanctuary of his dreams—the Dungeon City Bastion—a little earlier than expected.
Three years had passed since then. He had become the adventurer he always dreamed of, wandering the dungeon and offering free healing services. During that time, following the heavenly mandate given by the Goddess, he had become quite famous among adventurers as the Saint.
His Tier was an impressive 3-Tier. Even at thirteen, he stood on equal footing with a certain red-haired adventurer whose weapon was a talking longsword with an ego.
But Yohan knew the truth. This was not an achievement built solely by his own power. It was only possible because of the help he had received from those around him. That was why he had always admired those who built their karma through pure strength alone.
And then one day, while visiting Grindel by chance, Yohan witnessed it.
—Kwaaaaaaaaang!!!
“Whoa… whoaaa…”
An incredibly loud explosion of flames unleashed by what appeared to be an impossibly powerful adventurer(?).
—Chwaaaaaar! Flap.
“Ah… he’s gone.”
Yohan watched with a bittersweet smile as Raven vanished into the night sky, flapping his massive wings.
I showed such an embarrassing side during our first meeting… I suppose it can’t be helped.
Even after the award ceremony, when he learned that the person he thought was an adventurer was actually a demon, Yohan still went to offer his dawn prayers before the benevolent Goddess statue (the save point). And there he had encountered it.
—Ah. A demon piously bowing his head toward the Goddess statue.
A demon. A mythical being born from the Goddess’s shadow—one could even call him her child. Yet in his three years living in the Dungeon City, Yohan had never once seen a demon worship the Goddess or perform any similar act. So it felt fresh. It felt fascinating. His interest was captured. His gaze lingered.
Why was that demon bowing his head so reverently before the Goddess? He was curious. His heart raced at the thought that he might hear some hidden story about the Goddess. After all, when it came to anything related to her, he simply couldn’t help himself.
—U-um…! Do you happen to be interested in the Goddess? I’m also very interested in her!
—…Hm?
In the end, he had gotten a little too excited. Although Yohan was mature for his age, he was still just a boy when it came to the things he loved.
“Ahem.”
Thinking back on that past embarrassment made Yohan’s face grow hot. But he was a thirteen-year-old who did not repeat the same mistake. He had been overly excited then and charged in without thinking, but—
Next time, I will show more restraint… Sir Demon.
So he hoped the other party wouldn’t run away again. Gazing at the brightening sky, Yohan clasped his hands together and smiled softly.
Pale light slipping through the window tickled the eyelids of a boy—or perhaps a girl.
“Mmm…”
“Kkyuuk…!”
Yuri, who had been tossing and turning while hugging Kkachi tightly, opened her eyes despite wanting to sleep longer. Her mind had grown clear against her will.
“…”
Blink. Blink. It was a familiar ceiling. The second-floor group room of an absurdly expensive inn that charged fifty thousand dallants per day. Yuri slowly sat up on the bed.
Her black hair brushed against her shoulders with a soft rustle. Still half-asleep, she looked around with her small mouth slightly open, resembling a puppy searching for its mother. The ego sword leaning against Hans beside her—Sword—kindly opened her blade.
“Contractor of Terror, he said he was going out for some air around one in the morning.”
“…Ah. I see. Thank you for letting me know, Sword.”
“He was humming that silly fishing song, so he should be back soon. Why don’t you train with Hans until then?”
“Mm, that might be best. So, Hans, you can stop pretending to be asleep now.”
“….”
Caught again today. The performance had seemed flawless this time. He couldn’t figure out what had given him away. But today, of all days, Hans had no intention of training no matter what. Today was the day they had promised to go fishing together. On a day like this, he wanted to rest. No—he would rest.
If I wait just a little longer, Mister Raven will come…
Then training would be canceled. If he could hold out until then, victory was his!
However, it seemed that would be rather difficult. The strong scent of mint brushing his nose, the soft hair tickling his face, and—
“Hey. Wake up.”
The low, chilling whisper against his ear. If he held out any longer, his first friend might really hang him from the inn ceiling.
“Haaam… I slept well…”
“Good morning, Hans.”
“Yes, good morning to you too, Yuri…”
Such a unique experience was more than enough once.