Chapter 472: Proof of Existence (60)
Chapter 472: Proof of Existence (60)
She had always been a benevolent and gentle woman. Was she not a flower that bloomed in a place where one wouldn't dare dream of touching?
What kind of unsightly scene would this noble flower make in the face of death?
Would she fall to her knees and beg for her life? Would she weep and plead for forgiveness just once? Or would she offer to do anything, no matter how degrading, just to escape execution?
The Saintess did not meet any of those expectations.
She merely asked in a calm tone.
"I assume you are willing to listen to what I have to say?"
"The sinner shall respect the honor of the Mountain Court."
At the Pope's warning, the Saintess pushed herself up from her knees, her body swaying unsteadily.
Her hands were bound behind her back, making her posture precarious. Nevertheless, she forced herself upright and stood tall.
The judges, perched in their high seats, all looked down upon her.
How high and steep they were—the authority of the law, the existence of God, and the walls of reality.
A Holy Knight approached and removed the restraints from the Saintess's wrists. It was a final courtesy extended to a sinner before their closing statement.
With a heavy exhale, the Saintess's chest rose and fell.
"I have... no name. For a long time, I have lived wearing the shell of a 'Saintess.' I did so to ensure I never brought shame to that title."
It was a simple, honest confession.
The crowd and the judges remained silent. Suddenly, a gaze could be felt from the lofty heights.
Light blue eyes shimmered in the air.
The Ruler of Life and Death, the Gatekeeper of Heaven.
The Saint was looking down at the Saintess.
"Though I am of lowly orphan birth, I strove to fulfill the mission the Lord bestowed upon me. I lived for the weak, did my utmost to heal the sick, and though I sometimes turned a blind eye to the injustices before me, I never crossed the line."
"…Liar!"
A scream of condemnation erupted from the crowd.
It was a voice trembling with hatred and a sense of betrayal.
"Then why did you sacrifice orphans?! Your own escort knight was a priest of the Dark Cult!"
"How dare you give false testimony in the Mountain Court!"
"Kill her! Kill her!"
Faced with the clamoring malice, the Saintess folded her trembling hands over her chest.
She had prepared herself for this.
The outcome wouldn't change anyway.
And so, the Saintess screamed with all the bitterness in her heart.
"…And this is the price I pay!"
Her cry, a shout wrung from the depths of her lungs, brought an instantaneous silence to the surroundings.
She was a Saintess who had never once shown her true heart to the masses.
It was the first time in her life. Surprisingly, it felt liberating.
"I did my best… I never once neglected my duties! And yet, my only family betrayed me, and everything I achieved has been reduced to nothing but hollow glory!"
"Do you truly claim to be without sin?"
"What does the Heavenly God say about it?"
There was almost no delay between the question and her retort.
The judges' silence deepened at the Saintess's counter-question. Their eyes narrowed, glaring at her fiercely.
Even so, the Saintess did not hesitate.
"Is there still no answer? Even now? Your most beloved virgin stands here in this place! Whether I am a sinner or not, shouldn't You at least say something to me!"
"Sinner, watch your tongue!"
Anger began to seep into the Pope's voice, which had been nothing but solemn until now.
The other judges were no exception. Hostility now flickered in the eyes of the priests and the jury.
In contrast, the only sound from the crowd was the collective, dry gulp of thousands of throats.
This was the 'Saintess,' after all.
No matter how much of a sinner she was, the weight of her words could not be compared to that of an ordinary believer.
"Watch my tongue? What exactly should I be careful of?"
"Do you dare take the Lord's name in vain!"
"Then let Him punish me!"
The Pope's eyes flew open, and a commotion spread through the jury.
The Saint remained silent. As he always did.
"What is the point of this pathetic farce?! If You're going to punish me, then You do it! Not through some empty ritual of authority and formality, but the Lord Himself… is even this too much to ask?!"
"…How dare you!"
Seething rage leaked through the Pope's clenched teeth. His eyes, opened to their limit, were now bloodshot.
While the Pope was unable to continue, overwhelmed by a wave of excessive emotion, the Saintess's outpouring continued without pause.
"Answer me!"
It was a very small step.
Compared to the vast cliff, it was a stride so tiny it was almost invisible.
It was a meaningless rebellion. A question to which no answer would return.
Yet, the Saintess did not hesitate to raise her voice. With every word she poured out, the crowd held their breath even tighter, listening to her.
It was a cry that bordered on a desperate struggle.
"Am I a sinner?! If I have committed a sin worthy of death, then strike me down here! If You are going to abandon me, then tear me apart with Your own hands! Don't hide behind this petty game!"
"How dare you, how dare you, how dare you…!"
The Pope's gaze darted around frantically, as if he were witnessing an unbelievable reality.
Veins bulged in his neck as he shook his head back and forth.
But this was only the beginning.
The question the Saintess truly wanted to scream was something else entirely.
"Does the Lord truly exist?!"
A chilling silence followed.
It was as if cold water had been splashed onto a raging fire. A suffocating stillness, where no one dared to open their mouth, descended upon the court on the mountainside.
Before anyone realized it, the Saintess was on her knees, forcing herself to swallow her tears. Her tearful plea continued, laced with sobs.
"If, if He exists… why does He not look down upon us?! Why does He never answer! I have spent my entire life, my entire life believing in Him…!"
"…Jury!"
Unable to bear it any longer, the Pope let out a scream filled with spite.
Startled, the jury members began their deliberations, sweating profusely. In truth, the conclusion had already been reached.
Even before this trial had begun.
"Instead of repenting for her crimes, the sinner is committing blasphemy! What is your verdict?"
"Guilty!"
As if waiting for the cue, one of the jury members shouted at the top of his lungs.
"The verdict of the jury is guilty! The sinner has committed an unforgivable crime!"
"As it should be!"
Thump! When the Pope stamped his foot, the entire mountain seemed to scream.
This was a unique feature of the Mountain Court. Even if an old man who could barely steady himself stood on the steps, a single stamp of his foot would make the entire mountain vibrate and tremble.
The believers called this the 'Hammer of the Heavenly God.'
"Do the priests have any objections?!"
Naturally, everyone's gaze turned toward the Priest of Mercy.
He looked devastated, hesitating for a moment, before finally letting out a long sigh.
It was a declaration of surrender.
"…No objections."
"Then, in the name of our Great Lord, I shall deliver the sentence here and now!"
Thump! The earth shook once more, drawing everyone's attention.
Their eyes were filled with terror. To think that the entire mountain range could tremble from a single stamp of a foot—the sheer pressure was on a different level.
Everyone looked up at the Pope.
The sun was at its zenith. The light pouring from the sky seemed to uphold the sacred authority of the court.
The judge's cold eyes looked down at the woman collapsed in sobs.
"…Death!"
It was the predetermined conclusion. No one protested.
Only the crowd of tens of thousands murmured, their faces reflecting their shock. Though they had predicted blood would flow today, they seemed dazed now that the ultimate penalty had actually been pronounced upon the Saintess.
But the authority of the court did not allow for even a moment's hesitation.
"Not only did she betray humanity, but her sin of blasphemy by blaming the Heavenly God is not light! The sinner shall be hung upon a cross at the mountain peak and left there without food or water until she dies! Once her life has ended, her sinful body shall be burned upon a pyre to appease the vengeful spirits!"
In an instant, the Saintess's fate was sealed.
It had been a long time since a sentence that insulted even the dead had been passed. Even the crowd, who had once screamed for the harshest punishment, felt it was excessive.
Just as the murmuring was about to grow louder.
Thump! Once again, the entire mountain range trembled.
It was so violent that some among the crowd fell to the ground, screaming.
"If anyone has an objection to the verdict of this Mountain Court, speak now!"
The Saintess wept silently, biting her lip.
There was no way anyone would speak.
To overturn a decided matter was no different from challenging the authority of the court. Throughout the long history of the Holy Kingdom, very few had ever raised an objection to a decision of the Mountain Court.
And every single one of them had met a gruesome end.
She knew this. So, she wasn't even resentful.
The only sad thing was the fact that the God she had believed in and relied on her whole life still gave no response.
Was I really only worth that much?
She had even discarded her name. Had she not devoted her everything to live up to the name 'Saintess' bestowed by God?
But once the shell of the 'Saintess' was stripped away, this was all that remained.
A pathetic girl who could do nothing but lie there and cry.
Naturally, the court had no interest in a woman collapsed and sobbing alone.
"Very well. Then, according to the ancient laws, as of this moment, the sinner's sentence is final—!"
Snap.
The Pope, who was about to announce the finality of the verdict, froze in place. His eyes slowly turned toward the end of a sharp trajectory that had just grazed past him.
A hand axe was embedded deep into the cliffside.
The old priest, overcome with shock, let out a cry.
"What is this… Gah?!"
But it was too early to be surprised.
The silver light shimmering on the axe blade began to burrow into the cliff. To the right of the Pope, silver hairline cracks spread across the cliff face, followed by a thunderous explosion.
Boom!
A portion of the cliff crumbled away.
Several jury members below screamed in terror and scrambled to get out of the way. The Pope was so disoriented he couldn't even properly grasp the situation.
Who would dare?
Who would commit such an insulting act in this sacred court?
As if answering that question, heavy footsteps echoed through the air.
Thud. Thud.
The presence was startlingly clear. The crowd of tens of thousands parted, and through the gap walked a man with his hood pulled low.
Gazes mixed with anger, shock, and fear converged on him all at once.
It was then that the Saintess's body, which had been lying helplessly, gave a sudden flinch.
Were those footsteps not far too familiar?
No, it can't be. This shouldn't be happening.
I even made him promise never to do this.
Yet, unable to discard a sliver of hope, the Saintess turned her reddened eyes toward her back.
"…I object."
A piercing roar, born of peak fury, erupted from the Pope's mouth.
"Do you dare to rebel against the authority of this court?!"
"I do."
"Then reveal your identity, you fool!"
At those words, the man obediently pushed back his hood, and the Mountain Court was once again plunged into silence.
Black hair, golden eyes.
A hand axe embedded in the cliff, and the skill to shatter rock with a single throw.
There were not many people who met these criteria.
No, in the entire continent, there was likely only one.
"…I am Ian Percus."
The one who, as the bards said, stood at the vanguard of humanity to slay the darkness.
The rising star of the Empire and the most renowned divinity on the continent.
Ian Percus stood in the center of the Mountain Court.
To take on a challenge that no one else had ever achieved.