After the War Ends (4)
"Why are you still alive?"
I slowly opened my mouth at her words.
"It kinda sounds like you're saying I shouldn't be alive."
"If that offended you, I'm sorry. But yeah, that's exactly what I meant."
"……."
I just stared at her silently, and the saintess continued.
"It's embarrassing to say it myself, but I pride myself on being the greatest saintess in history."
"……."
"Sure, personalities differ across the ages, but I get along great with any god. That's why I can wield all the powers they've bestowed upon me with perfect skill."
She held out the back of her hand, revealing her stigmata. Six distinct patterns adorned it.
"Among them, I handle the power of Hayang, the God of Light who loves and cherishes me most, better than anyone. It suits me perfectly—it's like the power manifests differently because it fits me so well. So, do you know what the signature power of the God of Light is?"
"Protection, healing, purification."
"Right. But add one more: the ability to glimpse a target's future."
Light glowed from Hayang's stigmata. She was activating her divine authority.
"I can't see everything. Sometimes it's hazy like fog, sometimes crystal clear like reality, and occasionally, nothing at all for some people. But."
She emphasized her words.
"Whenever I do see something, it's never wrong. A hundred out of a hundred times, events unfold exactly as I foresaw. And do you know what your future holds, Saint Candidate?"
"What is it?"
Her sky-blue eyes fixed on me. They sparkled like stars etched in her irises, piercing right through me.
The saintess slowly spoke.
"You should already be dead. Eight months ago, killed by the hand of your junior, Evan."
"……."
I kept silent, just watching her steadily.
"I can still see it now. The timeline of Kyle Arden frozen there. And yet... here you are, perfectly fine."
At that moment, light bloomed from her hand. Vast holy power enveloped me, healing the lingering wounds in my body.
"But you're not an undead or anything."
Having confirmed it, she withdrew her holy power. With a short sigh, she added,
"Of course, I've heard of cases like this before. Sometimes there are beings who forge their own destiny. But this is different. How is this even possible?"
I maintained my composure at her question. Truth be told, I'd expected something like this from Estella. She was one of the rare few who could glimpse the future, and at this point in the story, Kyle Arden was supposed to be long dead. It would've been weirder if she couldn't see it.
But no matter how she pressed, my answer was set.
"What kind of answer are you hoping for? Something ridiculous like, 'Actually, I'm a god, unbound by fate'?"
At my flippant remark, Estella shot to her feet and leaned in close.
"I'm being serious here! This is a huge deal! And as a saint candidate, you should be worrying about it with me. Don't you know what 'one heart, one body' means? When one side's troubled, the other helps out—that's our relationship!"
"...Who said I'm a saint? I'm just a candidate; nothing's confirmed."
"Heeeng, you never know~ Three of them have already approved, and Juhwang seemed pretty positive too?"
Damn it, when the hell did that old fart flip?
No... I figured it might be because of my ties to his direct subordinates, the dwarves.
Anyway. I pushed her away from my face and said,
"Don't ask me crap like that. Get out. I need to rest."
"You don't need rest. You're all healed up."
"...Still hurts. So get out."
"Then I should stay by your side even more. I told you—I wield Hayang's power best. If I nurse you for three days, even the toughest illnesses... "
Estella chattered on endlessly. Gone was the solemn, dignified saintess I'd seen outside; she looked utterly different.
"Just trust me once. I mean... "
Still prattling away, she moved her hand. With casual ease, she opened a subspace and pulled out a small flask.
A hip flask. The kind called a portable booze bottle.
She uncapped it in a flash and brought it to her lips. I snatched her wrist right then.
"Don't drink."
"Heeng, no way~?"
She shook off my hand. Her face had already flushed a bit—must've snuck a sip. She went for another.
"I said don't drink."
I straight-up swiped the flask. She narrowed her eyes in a silent protest, demanding it back.
Haa...
I sighed inwardly at the sight. I knew exactly why she'd turned into this mess.
Being a saintess wasn't all sunshine. Gods above, followers below—surrounded on both sides, dealing with endless bullshit. Solve one request, attend an event; squeeze in state affairs between. Sure, there were underlings, but as a nation's top figure, skipping out wasn't an option. Slacking off? Not easy when you're a symbol of the divine. A saintess acts on the gods' behalf; you can't shatter that image on a whim.
Day after day of nonstop busyness. From what I knew, she sometimes couldn't even sleep.
Yet she couldn't lean on anyone, no matter how tough it got. That's what being a saintess meant. No one to rely on from the start. Even if the gods loved her, they were distant; same with the faithful. Grumble a little? Fine. But anything more? No dice.
Those at the top couldn't show weakness. So the pain piled up alone, laced with loneliness. No matter how good-natured, the stress built to insane levels.
Estella drowned it in booze. Selected at 14, now 17—three years deep in the bottle. Cautious up to 14, but by 15, she kept flasks stocked in her subspace for anytime access. Three years was plenty to turn a young girl into an alcoholic.
The trigger was the gods, but falling for the taste and buzz? Her choice.
No health worries, though. As a saintess, she was a master of holy magic. But a body steeped in booze for years craved it constantly.
She never drank openly, of course. Alone in her personal space.
But swigging in front of me, loosening up like this? Because of who I was. A saint candidate equals her position—no superior-inferior dynamic like with others. Shared experiences at times. Same time, same place. Mutual trust and reliance.
Like she said, one heart, one body.
Facing me let her tension melt, revealing her true self. Not Saintess Estella, but human Estella.
"Gimme the booze..."
"Promise you won't drink, and maybe."
"You craving some? I'll share half if you hand it over."
"Don't like booze. Quit ages ago."
"Weren't you a total delinquent? Delinquents don't quit drinking!"
"Doesn't mean every delinquent has to drink..."
That was the moment.
Estella's eyes gleamed as she thrust her arm out. Infused with holy power, it shot forward fast enough to leave an afterimage.
"Nice try."
It didn't land, naturally. A casual twist of my arm, and her hand swished through empty air.
"Tchiii..."
Estella glared at me, pissed. As punishment, I stashed the flask in my subspace.
"Ah! My booze!!"
"Confiscated. I'll give it back when you head to the Holy Kingdom."
"That's not fair!"
"It is."
Estella puffed up her cheeks and yelled,
"Act like a saint candidate! Why steal people's stuff? Even kids don't do that!"
"I said I'd give it back if you promised."
"Tch, just like World Tree said—you're a total demon!"
"Blame my delinquent roots."
And she was buying the cute face act. Might've worked on someone else, but not me. Guilt-tripping? No effect.
After yelling for a while, the saintess's voice quieted. No reaction, so she gave up.
Then, cautiously, she asked,
"I just... won't drink in front of you?"
"I'd love to ban it outright, but I won't go that far."
Compromise is key. I called her an alcoholic in my head, but really, she was just a heavy boozer with a hobby-level obsession.
"Got it. No drinking in front of you..."
"Here."
I pulled the flask from my subspace and handed it over. Seeing her long-lost treasure, she grinned like a kid reunited with her favorite doll.
"Ehehehe."
She rubbed the little bottle against her cheek like it was the best thing ever. Serious case, huh.
Knock knock.
The door rapped just then.
-Kyle, still getting treated?
Rana's voice followed. I replied immediately.
"All done. Come in."
And whoosh—the door flew open.
Shit, I realized my mistake too late. No time for Estella to compose herself.
I glanced at her quick. Luckily, disaster averted.
"Hello, Rana. I'm Estella. World Tree's told me so much about you."
Back to saintess mode in a flash, greeting her properly.
Rana's eyes sparkled as she rushed over and grabbed her hand.
"The real saintess! So happy to meet you!"
Her natural charm on full display, Rana shook enthusiastically.
"Young master, how's your body?"
"All good now, sis."
Not satisfied, she inspected me herself before letting go. Her glare was scary enough that I just took it.
After greetings wrapped up, we had lunch. I wondered why Estella wasn't leaving but was too lazy to care.
Anyway, the day passed meeting visitors casually.
The next day.
"Senpai. Who's this bitch?"
This time, Cloi—who'd barged into the infirmary—stirred up trouble.