Chapter 478: Proof of Existence (66)
Chapter 478: Proof of Existence (66)
“Why, why are you doing this… Ian has done nothing wrong… It’s all my fault. I was the one who was lacking… I, I have committed a mortal sin! So, please!”
It was a scream wrung out with every ounce of her strength.
The sincerity contained within held a persuasive power beyond mere logic. The Saint standing on the battlefield, the Judges perched upon the precipitous cliffs, and the crowd numbering in the tens of thousands—none could utter a single word, and it was likely for that very reason.
“Kill me! Kill me instead! Hang me, pelt me with stones, and burn me to death! That’s—that’s what you all want, isn’t it? Aaaagh!”
By the end, her plea had devolved into a ragged shriek.
Gasping for breath, having squeezed every last bit of air from her lungs, the Saintess closed her eyelids mournfully.
Drip, drip.
Clear dewdrops fell from her eyes.
“So, please let Ian go… Why, why does he have to suffer like this… Sob, hic…”
Silence.
The Saint offered no answer.
It was then that the man groaned and began to stir. His fingers twitched as if an electric current had surged through them, and he slowly started to push himself up.
The Saint’s gaze turned forward once more.
Watching the scene, the Saintess thought: No.
“…Denied.”
Splat! Once again, blood and flesh sprayed into the air.
“Ah, aaagh… Aaaaaaaaaaaagh! No, I said no… I told you to stop! Are you—are you really a Saint?! Can you truly call yourself a servant of the Heavenly God?!”
“Then, who are you?”
It was a solemn question.
The Saint’s voice carried a mysterious power. Though the Saintess was already out of her mind with grief, the question momentarily struck her dumb.
Who am I?
In the past, she would have answered proudly.
That she was the ‘Saintess,’ the Saintess of the Holy Kingdom.
But now?
Blood trickled from her clenched fists, a result of her overwhelming emotions. Her nails had dug deep into her palms.
“Are you also a servant who follows the Lord?”
“I, I am… I mean……”
A fire began to blaze again in her dull, sunken pale-pink eyes.
Fragments of fierce emotion formed a torrent behind her gritted teeth.
“If I am not a servant of the Heavenly God, then what on earth am I? Even now, am I not following the Will of God perfectly well!”
“The Will of God, you say.”
“You abandoned me!”
It was a raw, visceral accusation, steeped in resentment and distrust.
“I believed in you my whole life… I lived for you! But I was discarded like a worn-out shoe. Fine, then I’ll be discarded! I’ll offer my Obedience! Just—just discard me! But why are you trying to take away my… my most precious person too…!”
“Is that so?”
The man’s body twitched again with a faint convulsion.
The Saint turned his head back with indifference.
“Then sit there and offer your Obedience quietly. Is this not also the Will of God?”
“N-no… Wait a moment…!”
Splat! Once again, the man’s life was scattered into the air.
“Agh, ugh, aaah… Aaaaaaaaaagh! Stop, stop! P-please stop… I was wrong. I was lacking. Please! Please show mercy just this once… At least for Ian, please, not Ian!”
“It is a path he chose for himself.”
The Saint’s tone was so devoid of emotion it felt cruel.
It was impossible to guess his inner thoughts.
“O Nameless One, why do you seek to interfere in another’s fate? You do not have the qualification.”
“It’s my fate!”
With bloodshot eyes, the Saintess poured out a desperate plea.
“If anyone has to endure it, it should be me! Ian has no sin…!”
The Saint no longer even bothered to respond.
Splat, splat, splat!
He slaughtered the man mechanically. Each time, a piercing scream rang out, and the Saintess tried every means possible.
Pleading, threatening, negotiating—anything.
If he told her to die, she was more than willing. Even if he told her to stand in that spot instead of Ian and be killed from dawn until dusk, she would have gladly accepted.
If only she could save Ian!
Eventually, the Saintess changed the target of her pleas. Not to the Saint, but to Ian.
“Ian, Ian… P-please stop… Sob, hic… My—my heart feels like it’s tearing apart. I feel like I’m going crazy! You know it’s absolutely, absolutely impossible… So, please!”
But the man’s eyes only flickered toward the Saintess for a brief moment.
In the next instant, without fail, he would grip his sword and stand up again. How many times had he died and come back to life now?
Exhausted from weeping, the Saintess’s voice was so hoarse she couldn't even scream properly. She could only repeat the same question to herself, unable to understand.
“Why, why… why won’t you give up? Why do you keep getting back up?! Surely it’s meaningless, it must be meaningless…!”
“I wonder.”
The answer came from an unexpected source.
It was the Saint. Still without sparing a glance for the Saintess, he continued in a dry tone.
“How does it look to you?”
“It’s foolish……”
Tears streaming down her face, the Saintess let out a faint sob.
“And that’s why… he’s so precious. Because he’s the only person like that in this world……”
Only then did the Saint’s gaze flicker toward the Saintess.
The Saintess, who had been sobbing heavily, suddenly stopped breathing.
As if she had suddenly remembered something.
“……Wait, did you say I don’t have the qualification?”
“Perhaps.”
“What exactly is that ‘qualification’?! What do I have to do to stop this madness…!”
“Prove it yourself.”
It was a cruelly fundamental answer.
The Saintess’s face turned ghastly, but the Saint’s tone remained blunt.
“Prove who you are… The path is always there. It is only that no one has ever walked it, so it is not called a ‘path.’ A path does not appear simply because you kneel and beg.”
“What does that……”
Her question could go no further.
The man’s body twitched, signaling his return.
And then, splat.
The Saintess’s nightmare began once more.
“Aaah, aaaa… Aaaaaaaaaagh! No, stop… please… I told you not to do this, how many times have I…!”
As she screamed, the Saintess agonized desperately.
What, what must I do?
What am I supposed to prove?
Who am I?
I even cast aside my name to fit the hollow shell of a ‘Saintess’!
It was a relief her hands were tied. If they weren't, she might have chewed off all her fingers or torn out her hair in a fit of anxiety and despair.
No, she might have even clawed her own face with her nails while shrieking.
How much time passed in that eternity?
The man was slowly failing to regain consciousness. He had been lying prone without a single movement for several minutes now.
It was a mental death.
No matter how infinitely the body regenerated, if the mind died, it was the end. And this was the conclusion the Saintess feared most.
No, the Saintess looked at Ian as if screaming in her heart.
Please, please don’t do this.
You have to survive. Even if I die, somehow, you at least…
Right then.
Twitch. The man’s body stirred.
And for the first time, the Saint’s body stiffened.
As the boundary between life and death blurs, the sea of the unconscious overflows.
Where is this?
I couldn't distinguish between dream and reality. As I walked through a hazy landscape, I eventually arrived at a familiar place.
My eyes, their light extinguished, scanned the surroundings.
It was a place I had been to a few times before.
A dark, murky plain was strewn with all sorts of corpses. From demonic beasts to monsters of unknown origin and humans, they formed low hills.
It was a grotesque sight, no matter how many times I saw it.
I stared blankly at the corpses, then suddenly thought:
Should I just sit down here?
Outside, there was nothing but pain waiting for me anyway. If I just settled down here, if I never dreamed of the outside world again.
I desperately wanted to do just that.
And yet, why was I still moving my feet?
I had already forgotten the reason. My blurred consciousness could no longer assemble fragmented words into sentences.
However, there was something I must not give up.
Even if it was painful and agonizing, there was a path I could not yield.
So, I walk.
Even if each step is grueling and I’m drenched in cold sweat.
I took a step forward, staggering.
It’s hard. It’s so hard I feel like I’m going to die.
I have to go. I will not stop.
Because, because……
“Stop.”
At that low voice, I snapped back to my senses in surprise.
It felt like a tingling electric current was racing up my spine.
My consciousness, which had been floating in a dream, returned to its place instantly. Before I could even grasp where I was, my eyes turned toward the source of that thunderous resonance.
There sat a man with jet-black hair.
Perched on a rock with his arms crossed, his indifferent golden eyes were fixed on me.
“This opponent is too early for you, novice.”
As always, the man’s criticism was blunt, and he did not hesitate to get to the point.
“Leave it to me.”
There was no rise or fall in his voice.
As if stating an obvious truth, he declared in a tone devoid of even a shred of doubt.
“……I will bring you victory.”
Man faced man.
Standing upon the land of corpses and shadows.