Chapter 98 Saintess (2)
The Saintess (2)
Saintess.
One of the few humans directly blessed by the Goddess, a being no different from the Goddess's mouthpiece. Along with the Pope, she is one who can directly hear the Oracle.
In the Holy State of Numen, where the entire nation revolves around religion, the position of Saintess represents the very pinnacle of concentrated authority.
Of course, since the source of that authority ultimately lies with the Goddess, it's not something one could wield recklessly.
But that very fact speaks to how significant the position of Saintess truly is.
With sufficient justification, she could even intervene in the governance of the Holy Nation itself.
Though admittedly, this was all according to Byzantine's explanation.
'But me? A Saintess?'
The situation was utterly unbelievable.
While multiple clues certainly pointed toward me, it remained an inherently difficult reality to accept.
The Pope watched me with a gentle smile.
Sacred energy flowed from his radiant eyes. I felt as though someone was watching me through his gaze—an indescribable sensation.
Ooom...
"Let all rise from their seats."
The Pope tapped his staff against the ground. A deep, resonant sound, incomparable to before, reverberated in all directions.
Under that overwhelming pressure, those seated hastily scrambled to their feet.
"Rise, and bear witness to the return of the Saintess."
Ooom...
A tremendous vibration emanated from the Pope.
The force of it made my legs buckle slightly. Had I not braced myself, I might have collapsed then and there—so powerful was that resonance.
Yet the others seemed unaffected, silently watching me with calm expressions.
Even Abel merely gazed at me with concern, showing no sign of having felt the earlier tremor.
Meanwhile, golden energy began gathering toward me from all directions.
Before I could react, the Holy Power had already been absorbed entirely into my body. An overwhelming presence surged through my entire being.
'Could this be... the Goddess's?'
Beyond the Pope's eyes, I glimpsed the figure of a woman.
Lustrous blue hair cascading down to her waist, and deep azure eyes reminiscent of the ocean.
If the very concept of beauty were carved into human form, it would surely resemble her. Hers was a face that could put even the most dazzling idols to shame.
Clad in a gown that seemed plucked from ancient Greece, she sat upon a throne, watching me.
The moment our eyes met, an indescribable presence pressed down on my entire body.
When the woman extended her hand toward me, the oppressive energy vanished in an instant. Raising my head, I saw her slowly rising from the throne.
Golden energy radiated from her form.
Was this the Holy Power possessed by the Goddess? The sheer magnitude of it inspired awe just from a glance.
"Who... are you?"
The Goddess.
A concise answer echoed in my mind. The unpleasant sensation of information being forcibly implanted into my brain made me wince.
The Goddess paid no heed to my reaction, silently observing me as if waiting for my next question. Was she only going to answer what I asked?
If so, I decided to start with what puzzled me most.
"Why did you choose me?"
Fate.
"Fate... is it?"
A rather abstract and vague answer. Yet the Goddess remained silent, as if she had nothing further to add.
Truly, the most unhelpful Goddess imaginable.
Consent.
Seeing her nod, I couldn't help but sigh. I had no idea how to interpret that response.
Was she agreeing that she was being unhelpful?
The Goddess's thoughts were... difficult to grasp at times.
"Is there something I must do?"
None.
Her head shake made me tilt my own in confusion. According to the Prophecy of Destruction, wasn't I supposed to save those in the Holy Nation?
The prophecy had explicitly stated that under the name of the Saintess of Destruction, I would protect them all.
The Pope himself had reiterated those very words—there was no mistaking it.
Yet now, she claimed there was nothing I had to do? It made no sense to me.
Choice. Freedom.
Coercion. Impossible.
For the first time, multiple words surfaced in my mind. Was she saying that what I do is entirely my choice, my freedom, and that she could not impose anything upon me?
As if reading my thoughts, the Goddess gave a slight nod.
Then, with a soft smile, she gazed at me. Murmuring something inaudible, she began offering a prayer—toward me.
'...A prayer?'
Why would the Goddess pray to me?
Shouldn't it be the other way around? The question lingered only briefly before a sharp pain flared in my left hand.
The searing sensation, as if a brand were being pressed into my skin, made me grimace. Raising my hand, I saw a golden sigil forming on the back of it.
Simultaneously, the Brand engraved on my right hand also began to glow. The two emblems radiated intense light as if resonating with each other.
When I raised my head again, I saw the Goddess lowering her hands, having finished her prayer.
She smiled at me once more and waved her left hand.
The light pouring from the emblem on the back of my right hand gradually dimmed before returning to its original form.
The glow seeping from the emblem on my left hand had also vanished without me realizing. All that remained was a single golden seal.
As I lifted my head, the Goddess' form scattered into golden particles.
Watching the motes disperse in all directions, my vision was soon swallowed by darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was Abel's face, watching me with concern.
"A...Abel?"
"Are you alright?"
His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a solemn expression. The worry in his voice left me momentarily dazed.
Still disoriented, I struggled to form words.
"Ah, I'm fi—"
I stopped myself mid-sentence at the sight of Abel's serious face.
"I'm... a little exhausted."
I decided to speak honestly. It was true—the encounter with the Goddess had left me drained.
Besides, if I said I was fine, I had no idea what kind of scolding I'd get from Abel next.
My answer must have been the right one, because he let out a sigh of relief. His reaction felt oddly exaggerated, making me laugh awkwardly.
For some reason, the fact that Abel was worried about me felt strangely unfamiliar.
Not that I disliked it—but the unfamiliarity was undeniable.
"The Goddess has descended."
A voice rang out from the spectator seats. A man in white priestly robes clasped his hands together in prayer.
Following his lead, others began to pray as well.
Every single one of them closed their eyes and directed their prayers toward me.
The Saintess Candidate Yurp, Ka-il, even the Pope himself—
Their abrupt actions made me stagger in shock. Fortunately, Abel caught me before I could collapse, but...
I couldn't stop the dizziness washing over me.
"The Goddess has personally chosen the Saintess."
"The Goddess has bestowed upon her a Holy Mark."
A Holy Mark?
Could they mean this golden emblem now engraved on the back of my left hand?
When I raised my hand, golden light began seeping from the emblem.
The sight drew everyone's gazes toward me.
"O-oh! The Saintess herself proves it—this is no false Holy Mark!"
The same man who had dismissed me as an outsider from the Empire just moments ago now prostrated himself before me.
Watching him, my already spinning head felt like it might burst.
"O Saintess of Ruin, have mercy on these foolish souls and grant them salvation!"
"Saintess of Ruin!"
They looked no different from fanatics of a cult. Blind faith radiated from their eyes.
The sight made me recoil in disgust.
Just as I felt bile rising in my throat, the sound of a staff echoed through the hall.
Thud.
A heavy sound that filled the vast space.
Turning my head, I saw the Pope, having finished his prayer. A faint smile played on his lips as he repeatedly tapped the ground with his staff.
"Cease your prayers."
An overwhelming pressure began crushing down on the crowd.
"You may believe in me, but do not blind yourselves with zeal."
The Pope's voice was calm as he recited the words, his gaze fixed on the man still bowing on the ground.
At his stare, the man scrambled to his feet and bent at the waist in a deep bow.
"That is one of the Ten Commandments the Goddess has given us."
The Pope's face twisted slightly. The intensity in his eyes was so fierce it was hard to believe he was the same frail old man from before.
A roar of fury erupted from his lips.
"Were you trying to disgrace our Goddess Church before the honored guests of the Holy Kingdom?"
"N-no, I wasn't—"
The priest shook his head frantically, but the Pope's expression remained stern.
He observed the priest in silence before flicking his gaze toward Ka-il.
Ka-il approached without a word, his hand resting on his scabbard. The priest's eyes trembled violently as he drew near.
"Pay the price for your lack of faith."
"W-wait, I—!"
The Artifact Blade pierced the man's shoulder. A wet thunk sounded as blood dripped from the wound.
At the same time, the man's face contorted in pain.
"Ghk—you damned—!"
Golden energy flowed from the blade. He struggled desperately, but the sword severed his arm effortlessly.
The limb that fell to the floor turned to dust in an instant.
A Descendant of the Magic King?
The same phenomenon as the Descendant of the Magic King that Ka-il had killed before the wooden palisade. Had one of them really infiltrated the heart of the Holy Kingdom?
A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the man.
Under Ka-il's relentless strikes, he soon crumbled entirely into dust and vanished.