Heretics (4)

"A living legend, you say?"

"What on earth does that—"

"You'll understand when you see for yourself."

Yurph let out a soft chuckle before gripping my hand tightly. With excited steps, she began pulling me along.

I let myself be led without resistance, and where we arrived was none other than the Grand Plaza.

The vast square in front of the parliamentary building. The expansive white marble floor stretching around the podium. Countless people ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were gathered there, offering prayers.

Their synchronized rows of devotion, perfectly aligned around the podium, carried an almost sacred solemnity.

Enough to make even the faithless feel something stir within them.

"Everyone! The Saintess has arrived!"

Her voice echoed across the quiet plaza. Stunned by her sudden outburst, I froze in place.

[She's more energetic than I expected.]

'...Yeah.'

When we first met, she had been barely more than a corpse. Seeing her now, so vibrant and healthy, the transformation was staggering.

No wonder the Pope had taken a liking to me. He must have cherished Yurph in his own way too.

"The Saintess?"

"It's the Saintess?"

"She's finally awakened!"

In an instant, countless gazes converged on me. Feeling overwhelmed, I turned my head—only to find more eyes fixed on me from that direction.

Just as I stood there, unsure how to react, the crowd began surging toward me.

"The Saintess of Destruction has awakened!!"

"Salvation has finally come to the Holy Kingdom!"

Voices brimming with excitement and blind faith rose from all sides.

Under normal circumstances, I might have been pleased. But the sight of them shouting my name with veins bulging in their necks left me strangely unsettled.

At the same time, I couldn't help but grasp the true meaning behind what Yurph had said about being a Saint.

'...A figure to rely on. A powerful justification.'

Originally, the trial had been undertaken to control the Holy Power.

I had only accepted it to reclaim my abilities as a Spiritualist. Yet, to these people, passing the Sanctuary Trial seemed to carry far greater significance.

Even those who had regarded me with distrust just days ago had completely changed their attitudes. Rather than feeling joy or pride, I was mostly just bewildered.

'...Maybe this is what the Goddess intended.'

She might have deliberately manipulated the outcome to ensure I passed the trial. All to give them hope under the name of "Savior."

After all, it must have been the Goddess herself who delivered the Prophecy of Destruction.

Viewed that way, the pieces fit together somewhat neatly.

'Am I just too steeped in paranoia?'

The thought struck me suddenly.

Perhaps, after so long steeped in betrayal and suspicion, I was overthinking things. Maybe I was being overly sensitive about something that should be a point of pride.

'...No. That can't be it.'

This was precisely when I'd be most vulnerable to exploitation.

From the start, I now held the powerful justification of being a Saintess who had passed the Sanctuary Trial. And not just any Saintess—one hailing from the Empire, not the Holy Kingdom.

To any observer, I was the perfect piece to manipulate.

'Get a grip. I've let my guard down too much.'

With that thought, I slapped both hands against my cheeks. A sharp sting followed, and a wave of tension flooded a corner of my mind.

Silpi, who had been watching from my shoulder, spoke quietly.

[Contractor. Don't be too harsh on yourself.]

'Are you worried about me?'

[...Yes. I am.]

After a brief hesitation, he nodded. The sight felt oddly unfamiliar.

This was the same Silpi who usually scoffed and snapped, "As if that's possible," like some tsundere.

Perhaps feeling self-conscious under my gaze, he abruptly turned his head away.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

"Wait, don't rush at her like that!"

At Yurph's shout, my attention snapped back.

There, I saw people scrambling toward me, pushing and shoving like starving ghosts. Every last one of them wore expressions of desperate, almost feral determination.

Thud.

Yurph's barrier intercepted the crowd.

"Move! I need the Saintess's blessing!"

"If the Saintess of Destruction blesses us, we'll surely survive!"

"Get out of my way! I was here first!"

The atmosphere had already grown feverish—Yurph's voice might as well have been falling on deaf ears.

"Everyone, please calm down!"

No matter how many times she shouted, they refused to listen. Her face paled as she muttered,

"This... this isn't what I wanted to show you..."

Her voice trembled faintly with dismay. Though her fingertips shook, she stubbornly maintained the barrier, forcing herself to stay composed.

I reached out and clasped her hand.

"Id... unnie?"

It was icy cold. Despite the warm energy of Holy Power flowing through her, her skin felt frigid.

Focusing my mind, I drew forth my Holy Power. Soon, a deep golden energy began radiating from my hand.

"Calm down. Take a deep breath."

"I understand."

It was what Abel always told me whenever I panicked.

Following his words, whenever I slowly regulated my breathing, the anxiety, tension, and embarrassment would gradually subside.

Yurp nodded her head and began taking slow, deep breaths. The barrier was crumbling bit by bit, and people's hands were reaching toward us.

I barely swallowed back the sigh that threatened to escape at the sight of those grasping fingers, like the teeth of hungry ghosts. Honestly, the shift in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their attitude was so extreme that I could hardly adjust.

'A blessing...'

The knowledge surfaced naturally in my mind. It was the reward granted to me for passing the trial.

After all, the only reason I had even participated in the trial was to gain control over Holy Power.

Of course, the sheer volume of knowledge was more than I'd expected, and my head still ached a little from it...

I stretched out my right hand toward their reaching fingers.

'Huh, it feels like exorcism.'

Though, admittedly, what I was about to do was the exact opposite.

Pushing aside the idle thought, I drew up the Holy Power within me once more. The energy, which had been unraveling like yarn, gradually began taking shape.

A thin curtain-like fabric—woven purely from Holy Power—started spreading outward in all directions.

A blessing wasn't anything special. It was merely the act of delivering the Goddess's Blessing through Holy Power as a medium. The true origin of the blessing was, after all, the Goddess herself.

'No wonder they worship her.'

Holy Power itself was a force derived from the Goddess.

Given that the Holy Nation was built upon this unique power, it was only natural they revered her.

Lost in thought, I noticed the people had stopped reaching out. Though the barrier had vanished by then, none of them rushed toward us.

Instead, they knelt where they stood and resumed their prayers.

Should I call their devotion profound? Or was their faith bordering on excessive?

"Ah... Aah... Saintess..."

"O Merciful Saintess..."

I still couldn't get used to the unfamiliar title.

I wasn't the type to grow accustomed to such things easily. There had been a time when I'd thirsted for recognition like this, but...

Now, I knew none of it held any real meaning. So, it didn't bring me joy.

As I took a moment to steady my breathing, Yurp finished her deep breaths and opened her eyes again.

"I think... I feel a little better now."

"That's good."

"Unnie Id... Did you bestow a blessing?"

"Yeah. They seemed to want it."

It wasn't like giving blessings drained my Holy Power anyway. True to the title of Saintess, it welled up endlessly, like an inexhaustible spring.

Yet, for some reason, Yurp's expression darkened. As if I had done something I shouldn't have.

After hesitating briefly, she let out a sigh and raised her head again.

"Blessings shouldn't be given to just anyone."

"Why not?"

Her unusually firm expression made the question rise naturally. She seemed to deliberate for a moment before continuing.

"It might just seem like territorialism to you, Unnie... but receiving a blessing requires the proper qualifications."

Qualifications.

To bear the Goddess's Blessing, one must possess the corresponding worthiness.

Otherwise, the Goddess Herself may revoke the blessing and mete out punishment.

In fact, throughout the Holy Kingdom's history, countless people had suffered such penalties—or so Yurp said.

"I... didn't know that."

I turned my head to look at those still offering prayers. Was that why they called me the Merciful Saintess?

But did they even know about this?

If they were aware of the consequences, why had they still asked for my blessing? The thought tangled messily in my mind.

'Well, if it really comes down to it, I can just rewind time.'

The sudden thought made ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me freeze.

There were two ways to turn back time. One was to die outright. The other was to desperately, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fervently wish for it.

In the past, I'd usually regressed through the former rather than the latter.

This ability had always been beyond my control—I couldn't wield it properly.

What was its origin? What happened to the timeline before the reversal?

I knew nothing.

If I died, I went back.

That was all.

'...That's strange.'

Why had that thought surfaced now? A creeping sensation, as if something was slowly wearing away, sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

I was sure I'd resolved not to rely on this ability anymore.

"There's no need to worry so much."

A voice came from somewhere.

Aged, yet carrying an undeniable strength. I whipped my head around to see an elderly man in white robes—the Pope—chuckling softly as he looked at us.

"The Goddess isn't so strict as to punish the ignorant. History has proven that much."

"That's... a relief."

His reassurance let me exhale deeply in relief.

"By the way, congratulations on becoming the star of the festival."

"Huh? What festival?"

"The Saint Birth Festival—a celebration commemorating the birth of a Saint."