The Saintess's Stubborn Faith
Sign it! Aria knelt on the stone floor in front of the altar, her hands trembling violently as she picked up the old parchment. A faint, magical light emanated from the parchment, and although the script written upon it was unlike any language of Eden, the meaning embedded itself clearly into her mind. It was as if the Outer God were carving the words directly into her soul.
Her blue eyes wavered with anxiety as she began to read the first line of the contract.
The chapel was deathly silent. The children, their mouths smeared with breadcrumbs, and the nuns, clutching their sacks of salt, held their breath, watching the Saintess’s lips.
When Aria finally finished reading the contract, her pupils dilated wildly. The blood drained from her face, and her lips quivered like aspen leaves in the wind.
Unable to bear the suspense any longer, a young nun swallowed hard and asked cautiously, "Saintess... what on earth is written in that document? Surely it doesn't demand our lives right this instant, or require us to offer some horrific sacrifice..."
"N-no, it is not that," Aria replied in a dazed voice, clutching the parchment to her chest.
"Then what does it demand? Does it ask us to curse the God of Light? Or to become a plaything for an Outer God?" the anxious nuns pressed urgently.
Aria swallowed dryly and began to recite the contents of the parchment one by one.
"This unknown Outer God... promises to guarantee our survival and safety for eternity. In exchange, it asks only for daily prayers and material tributes."
"What? Is that all?" The nuns looked at each other in bewilderment.
The horrific Outer Gods, like the Seven Calamities that had invaded Eden, usually demanded the corruption of a mortal's very soul, or required all sorts of bizarre acts, torture, and blood rituals involving the tearing of living flesh. And yet, this one asked for nothing more than ordinary prayers and common gold and silver?
"And..." Aria steadied her voice to read the most shocking clause, the Third Special Provision. "If... if Lumen, the God of Light we once served, should ever return... it permits us to terminate this contract at any time and return to our original faith, provided we pay a set grace period and a reasonable amount of gold and silver as a penalty."
"W-what does that mean!" The chapel erupted in chaos. The nuns' eyes widened as if they would pop out, and some collapsed, their legs giving way. "This is absurd! What god in this world would ever permit apostasy at any time and condone a return to a previous deity!"
"It’s a trap! This is clearly a devil’s snare, more malicious than those terrible Seven Calamities!" one nun screamed, tearing at her hair.
By the religious standards of Eden, no god ever signed a contract with their apostle that conditionally allowed for conversion to another religion. Faith was an absolute belonging, a total offering of the soul.
Yet, this unknown Outer God had presented them with the absolute symbols of servitude—bread and salt—only to write a bizarre, alien clause in the contract stating they could leave whenever they wanted, provided they paid gold and silver.
"Exactly! This is a terrible deception meant to mock our faith and test our souls!" the young nun cried, tears streaming down her face. "Paying gold and silver as a penalty? That devil already knows there’s no way we have such wealth left! It’s a perverted game, a sadistic pleasure—burdening us with a debt we can never repay, dangling hope before us, and watching our souls slowly rot away!"
"That’s not all. Including a clause for the return of the God of Light... doesn't that mean this Outer God looks down on our Lord Lumen as a trivial existence that can be traded for a mere penalty fee? What arrogant, overwhelming confidence!"
The nuns’ imaginations ran wild, fueled by a mixture of terror and awe. They had perfectly misinterpreted this modern, capitalist-style contract as an overwhelming display of an Outer God’s leisure—a demonic shackle designed to bind the mortal soul forever.
"Saintess... what do you intend to do?"
All eyes turned back to Aria. Aria stared at the final passage of the parchment.
This contract is signed in blood and sworn upon the soul.
Even the sweet clause about being able to convert if one paid the penalty was, in a way, nothing more than a deceptive play on words in the face of this blood oath. Once the soul was staked, there was nowhere to run.
That was when the young nun who had been the first to call for conversion stepped forward. Her lips were still stained with the white breadcrumbs she had devoured in such a hurry.
"Isn't this actually a good deal? Sign it now, Saintess!" The air in the chapel froze at the young nun’s desperate cry. "Can't you see this demonic shackle? The Saintess’s soul will be corrupted!" other nuns argued, veins bulging, but the young nun stood her ground.
"Stop with the soul-corruption talk! Isn't solving this immediate hunger and the fear of death the priority? The God of Light abandoned us, but this Outer God gave us our daily bread and saved the child from the monster’s claws. Besides, there’s even a clause that says we can leave if we pay the gold and silver!"
She gestured to the parchment, speaking passionately. "We can just search the abandoned cities across Eden or the ruined castles of the nobility to recover the gold and silver to pay it back. A debt is just something to be repaid! We have to survive first to pay the debt or serve the God of Light again!"
It was a realistic persuasion, blinded by the instinct for survival. The nuns split into two factions, engaging in another fierce debate. Some sobbed, choosing immediate salvation, while others tore at their hair, insisting they could not become offerings to a heretic.
In the midst of that noisy bedlam, Aria quietly closed her eyes. Her mind was settling into an astonishingly calm state.
The moment of hesitation when she had unconsciously called out to the Outer God to save the child. The overwhelming temptation of the soft texture and sweetness of white bread. And the sweet whispers of the deceptive contract that promised she could return at any time.
All those temptations were trying to bind her like a giant spiderweb of the abyss. But paradoxically, this seemingly perfect devil’s contract had coldly awakened Aria’s reason.
'There is no way a path of retreat like a penalty fee exists in an oath staked on the soul. This is merely a cunning trap to make me walk the path of corruption myself.'
Aria let out a deep sigh and slowly opened her eyes. There was no more wavering or despair in her blue eyes.
The noisy arguing of the nuns gradually subsided before Aria’s resolute expression. As everyone held their breath, Aria lifted her head toward the void. Toward the invisible, unknown Outer God, she declared with her soul, clearly and distinctly.
"Unknown Outer God."
Her voice rang through the chapel without a tremor. "For the miracles and mercy you have bestowed—for giving daily bread to your starving flock and saving this poor child’s life from the claws of the water demon—I express my deepest and most sincere gratitude."
Aria carefully placed the parchment contract she had been holding to her chest down onto the stone floor.
"However, I cannot accept this contract. Even if my body withers from hunger and my limbs are torn asunder, I can never surrender my soul and my faith to a heretical existence such as you."
The chapel went silent, as if doused in cold water.
"Saintess... that is a foolish thing to do!" The one who broke the silence was the desperate scream of the young nun who had argued for conversion.
She knelt on the floor, weeping and wailing.
"What will you do if you reject this contract! The monsters are still swarming outside, and with our strength, we cannot take a single step out that door! Think realistically, Saintess, please! Do you want us all to starve to death and be torn apart here!"
Despite the nun’s blood-spitting plea, Aria’s expression remained as firm as stone. Just then, the parchment on the floor began to emit a faint blue light on its own and floated up into the air. As if it were alive and possessed a will of its own, the contract flew smoothly and stopped right in front of Aria’s face. It trembled slightly in the air, as if urging her to sign.
But Aria shook her head firmly and took a step back.
The parchment approached her once more. "I refuse," Aria said, shaking her head again and pushing the contract away.
Three times, four times. Every time the parchment persistently approached, Aria expressed her firm refusal and stepped back.
Finally, it seemed the contract had resigned itself to Aria’s stubborn refusal. The parchment floating in the air began to tremble violently, as if it had suffered a great shock, and in an instant, it was engulfed in crimson flames.
Whoosh—!
The contract, which had been emitting blue magic, burned away futilely in the red fire, scattering as pitch-black ash onto the floor.
"Ah..." A desperate sigh escaped the nuns' lips. Watching the last lifeline burn away, someone collapsed to the floor and began to wail. Aria, too, simply stared silently at the traces of the contract that had vanished into ash, her lips pressed tightly together.
Finally, at Aria’s stubborn refusal, I exploded. My expression, watching the whole scene in real-time from behind the monitor, was twisted as if I were about to smash the screen.
"No, I did everything for you!"
I tore at my hair and slammed my fists against the desk. "I gave you water! I gave you bread! I gave you salt! I even smashed the monster’s head in to save the kid! I offered you a VVIP special treatment contract that opened up every possible escape route, and you’re not going to sign it?"
I raised my voice at Aria, who stood tall in the screen, shouting her refusal.
"I even took out a loan, using my apartment deed—my only asset—as collateral for you! If you don't sign here, my life is truly over!"
My stomach felt like it was turning inside out. That stubbornness, wanting to keep the integrity of her faith even in the face of survival, was marvelous, but at the same time, it was maddeningly hateful. It was obvious that no matter how much I pushed, given the Saintess’s character, she would never put her seal on it.
"Fine. You won't do it, huh? If I were going to cling to you so pathetically, I wouldn't have started in the first place."
I gritted my teeth and grabbed the mouse roughly. I aimed the pointer at the parchment contract, which was trembling in the air inside the screen, and right-clicked.
The [Retrieve Contract] and [Destroy] options appeared. Without hesitation, I clicked the [Destroy] button.