The Saintess and Sloth [1]
A crude black wooden carriage rattled precariously along the rugged unpaved roads of the south.
It had been a sleepless night of nonstop travel since departing the Holy City.
Only now was a faint bluish dawn creeping over the horizon.
The landscape emerging through the morning mist was desolate. Scorched black earth bearing the scars of war stretched endlessly, dotted with the skeletal ruins of what had once been buildings.
This unmarked black carriage, devoid of the Holy Kingdom's insignia, trudged through the dust like a shadow melting into the battlefield's gloom—chosen deliberately to avoid drawing attention in wartime.
Inside, Saintess Se Rena stared out the window at the barren ruins flashing by, her cool gaze unwavering despite a sleepless night.
On her lap sat a heavy leather satchel, packed meticulously with holy-water-purified emergency medicines, special hemostatic bandages, and purified holy water vials to ward off high-risk infectious diseases.
The official purpose of this journey was "the Saintess's for southern refugees," but to Se Rena, it was no act of benevolent charity.
Feeling the chill of the cold medicine vials through the leather, she gazed out with heavy eyes blurred by fatigue.
Her fingers gripping the satchel had gone ice-cold.
'Devil...'
She murmured the word low in her mouth, chewing on it.
Even to her, a saintess schooled in theology, devils had been mere fairy-tale monsters that punished the wicked—or fictional creatures from classic fables.
Until she had torn open the taboo, devils had never once entered the realm of reality for her.
The orthodox scriptures of the Holy Kingdom made no mention of their names.
She had thought them imaginary inventions to scare children.
But devils existed.
She had witnessed with her own eyes their chilling strength and arrogance from thousands of years past.
Not crude illustrations in a storybook, but a vividly alive "calamity" incarnate.
The problem was the utter lack of information on their true nature.
'They've existed since the beginning. And they're strong enough that even the gods can't handle them...'
That was the sum of her knowledge.
With demonkin already probing the borders, the Holy Kingdom's head ached to the point of splitting.
Why now, of all times?
Why was a monster from myth—thought to be mere fiction—rearing its head on this land in the flesh?
'Even the demonkin are overwhelming enough, and now devils...'
Se Rena swallowed dryly.
If the "blank" indicated by the oracle was of the same ilk as that golden-haired man in the taboo, then the path she tread now led not to consolation, but straight into the jaws of death.
But she clenched her trembling hands, steadying her cooling reason.
'...The Goddess herself has led me to the threshold of this calamity.'
Tap tap.
A light knock on the thin wooden panel shattered Se Rena's resolute thoughts.
Before she could respond, the carriage door flew open, admitting a rush of chilly dawn air and a man who thrust himself inside.
It was Kai, wielder of the Second Holy Sword "Ignis" and known as the Crimson Flame.
"Whew."
Kai plopped onto the seat opposite without permission.
His red hair, casually swept back, gave off more the vibe of a back-alley mercenary than a holy swordsman.
He brazenly crossed his legs and smirked.
"Phew... We're almost there, y'know. But what's with the deep thinking? Your face looks seriously grim, Saintess."
Se Rena frowned coldly.
"...Kai, shut that flippant mouth of yours. I don't have the energy for your jokes right now."
"Ouch, that's harsh. We're finally riding together after so long, and this is the welcome?"
Kai shrugged and sank deeper into the seat.
Se Rena slowly turned to stare at him. Her gaze was cold, but laced with genuine concern for a comrade.
"No joke. What we're going to meet isn't some demonkin you've tangled with before—it's on a whole other level. Does it look like a casual stroll, having all three Holy Swords leave the Holy City at once?"
She paused, then added softly.
"...Drop that pathetic leisure once we arrive. I don't want to lose you."
Kai let out a short, incredulous chuckle.
"Devil or demonkin, they're all the same—just things that die when you kill 'em. Stab 'em, they bleed; set 'em on fire, they burn. Why worry over nothing?"
"...Cut the nonsense. Any peculiarities?"
At Se Rena's icy question, Kai uncrossed his legs and pointed out the window. Behind his playful eyes flickered the sharp instincts of a holy swordsman.
"Well, as you can see, Saintess, it's just this boring wasteland. ...But it's kinda weird."
Kai rubbed his chin, furrowing his brow.
"Can't sense a thing, oddly enough. Demonkin or monsters nearby should give off that nauseating stench, but nada. Feels totally empty, like nothing's here at all. Not even a stray dog or a bug chirping. Like we've dropped off the edge of the world."
He scratched the back of his head.
"Feels like all life has withered away. Not the ruins—the land itself isn't breathing. Gives me the creeps."
Then, a thunderous voice from outside cut Kai off.
"Kai! Insolent fool! Mind your tongue around the Saintess!"
Kai grimaced and scratched his head irritably.
"Sigh, here we go again. Such a pain..."
Soon, a disciplined voice followed from outside.
"Saintess, may I enter?"
"Come in."
No sooner had Se Rena given permission than a massively built man entered—dwarfing Kai by comparison.
It was Gawayne, wielder of the First Holy Sword "Estel" and known as the White Silver.
He fixed Kai with a glare and bellowed the moment he boarded.
"Kai, that's your problem! We're heading to a place harboring an unknown entity. Why must you act so recklessly every damn day?!"
"Yeah, yeah, Captain. My ears are ringing."
Kai dug at his ear and turned away, but Gawayne, still fuming, launched into a lecture.
Se Rena pressed her temple at the bickering in the cramped carriage, massaging her throbbing head as she murmured.
"...Enough. My head hurts."
At Se Rena's low command, Gawayne flinched and shut his mouth. He straightened his posture and knelt on one knee on the narrow floor. His eyes, visible through his helmet, burned with utmost sincerity.
"Saintess, worry not. If things go awry, we will carve a path with our lives. Trust in us, the Three Swords."
Se Rena closed her weary eyes briefly, then opened them.
"I know. I trust your skills."
As Se Rena replied dismissively, Kai snickered from the side. "See? Captain's the only one overdoing it."
The brief banter lightened the heavy tension in the carriage, if only a little.
But that fragile peace shattered with a cold, clear voice from outside.
"Saintess, prepare to disembark."
It was Lian, wielder of the Third Holy Sword "Aster" and known as the Azure Blade—the only woman among the Three Swords, and the one with the sharpest senses. Her voice was lower than usual.
"And you pigs and wastrel—mount up already. How long do you plan to chatter by the Saintess's side?"
"P-Pig?!" "Wastrel?! Lian, that's too much!"
Gawayne and Kai coughed awkwardly in unison, retreating hastily before Lian's sharp tongue.
Alone once more, Se Rena took a deep breath, tightening her frayed nerves.
Then Lian's report came again from outside.
"Saintess, we've arrived at the refugee village in Anshik's 13th District."
The carriage wheels jolted to a final stop.
Se Rena pressed a hand to her chest, steadied her breath, and stepped out.
Her first steps felt normal. The dirt under her shoes, the cool dawn air on her cheeks—it was just another southern morning.
But after a few paces, Se Rena froze.
"...What is this?"
It was too quiet.
A village housing hundreds of refugees should buzz with morning life—fetching water, preparing meals, livestock calls. Nothing.
Se Rena looked around and asked Lian beside her in a trembling voice.
"Lady Lian, is this... really the place we sought?"
Lian scanned sharply, pointing to a weathered wooden sign at the village entrance.
"Yes. 'Anshik's 13th District'. Matches the coordinates you gave, Saintess."
Se Rena's face paled.
"But..."
Buildings stood, warmth lingered, traces remained.
Only the "humans" who should fill them had vanished without a trace, leaving an eerie silence.
"...Chillingly still."
Gawayne, dismounted, gripped his holy sword's hilt and murmured low.
Kai, too, wiped his usual smirk, swallowing hard at the village's hush.
A chilling premonition shook Se Rena. The unrecorded, unobserved "blank"—the oracle's warned fragment of calamity—lurked in this bizarre quiet. She sensed it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Life inside the cardboard box house was far more comfortable than it looked—perfectly cozy.
Lulu had pieced it together with her tiny hands, but my power touched the interior.
Once through the narrow entrance, it opened into a spacious 20-pyeong studio, fully insulated from outside cold and noise, with circulating fresh air. A perfect haven for me or Lulu.
The problem was the "entrance."
'...Gotta change the front door. Or just build a new house altogether.'
I stood before the box house, sighing deeply.
The entry, tailored to Lulu's small frame, was comically tiny for me.
I didn't want to smash my daughter's handiwork or force it wider with my authority, so every passage was a humiliating ordeal.
"Hngh."
I hunched low, knees to the ground.
For all my "absolute" title, I crawled in awkwardly.
Rustle, thud.
"...Ow."
As always. My shoulder snagged the edge with an ominous scrape.
Forcing my bulk through wore my patience thin; my butt stuck out half-out, flailing.
If Lucian or Satan saw this, they'd roll laughing, dignity be damned.
"We're hooome!"
Lulu, who'd slipped in first, scampered to the living room.
She kicked off her shoes neatly and headed straight to the bathroom—faithfully practicing the "handwashing" I'd drilled into her.
Soon, splashing water echoed from the sink, and out bounced fluffy-clean Lulu.
I smiled warmly, drying her tiny hands with a towel.
Seizing the moment, I ventured carefully.
"Lulu."
"Yeees, Daddyy!"
"Y'see... Daddy was thinking, how about we redo the house a bit? Yours is great, but you're growing fast, and Daddy's too big to fit easy."
I braced for hurt feelings, but Lulu's eyes widened, then she beamed.
"Goooood! Perfeeeect! Daddy, make it suuuper prettyyy!"
Her cheerful reply tugged at my heart. I nodded vigorously.
"Alright! Shall we make it together?"
We sat side by side on the sofa.
I waved a hand lightly; neither holy power nor mana, but my peculiar Sloth Force coalesced into holographic models.
"How about a castle like this? With tall pointy towers piercing the sky."
A twitch of my finger summoned a grand golden castle in the air.
"Woooow! Pointeees! So maaaany pointeees! Goooood!"
Lulu wiggled her fingers—one per tower—in delight.
Smiling inwardly, I floated a lavish mansion with blue gardens and fountains.
"Or this? Huge pool in the yard, flower-scented gardens at night."
"Waaater!! Waaater coooming! Pooool gooood! This toooo gooood, Daddy!"
"Haha, yeah? What about this—one made entirely of cookies and candy walls."
The fairy-tale gingerbread house from my past life made Lulu circle the hologram, mouth agape.
"Ooooh! Sweeeets! Suuuper! Goooood! Goooood!!"
I showed various ornate mansions and castles, but Lulu just clapped happily at them all.
Her world was this cramped, filthy refugee village—and its oldest box house—so no frame of reference.
'Might as well show her a bigger world...'
But that meant moving, and moving meant packing.
The most "annoying" thing imaginable for me.
'Too much hassle... But for Lulu.'
I recalled a past-life concept.
A house you could leave anytime—a marriage of this era's carriage and a camper van.
Lulu's eyes sparkled at the odd model I'd unconsciously shaped.
"Daddy, Daddy! Whaaat's thiiiis? House has wheeeels!"
"It's called a camper. Think of it as a house on wheels. Sleep, eat—moves wherever."
Her eyes shone brighter than ever.
"Woooow!! Moooving house!"
I clenched my fist.
This was it. No packing hassles—just take the house itself.
Perfect fix for laziness, ideal for showing Lulu the world.
"Lulu, whaddya think? Ride this, roam the world, see a huge blue ocean."
"Oceaaan? Oceaaan... Whaaat's ooocean?"
"Endless blue water, sparkling like jewels in the sun."
"Goooood, gooood!! Oceaaan! Blue waaater!!"
Lulu spun around the living room, hips wiggling like a tail.
Seeing her joy eased my laziness with profound relief.
Our fun brainstorming stretched into dinner time.
On the sofa, Lulu whispered to her attachment doll Mimi, assigning rooms in the hologram houses.
Gazing warmly at her peaceful back, my eyes lingered on her smile—revealing gaps and jagged teeth.
A chill settled in my chest.
Malnutrition played a part, but those were breaks from blows or extractions.
'...I'll kill them.''In the most wretched despair, begging for death... Shred their souls to pieces and hurl them to purgatory's depths.'
Hoo.
I quelled the rising killing intent and headed to the kitchen.
Tonight: soft bread, fresh milk, and Lulu's favorite meat dish.
I selected prime cuts, slow-simmering in a huge pot for hours.
Tender enough to melt at chopstick touch, dissolving on the tongue—no chewing needed.
While the meat stewed to shreds, I pondered Lulu's meat obsession.
In this barren village, preserving meat meant one way: salt it heavily.
The "meat taste" she remembered was likely tongue-numbing saltiness.
To a child fed flavorless garbage her whole life, that brine was the world's finest delicacy.
'...All because of the salt.'
I pulled out the salt shaker. Tempted to dump it in, recreating her memory.
Hand poised with a heap, I hesitated.
'But... bad for her health.'
Her damaged teeth, growing body—couldn't do it.
I halved the salt, seasoning gradually.
'This much for now. Taper it slowly.'
Compromise: her beloved salty kick and my fatherly care for health.
Meat done, I called in my kindest daddy voice.
"Lulu, dinner tiiiime."
"Waaaah! Meeaat! Meeaat!!"
I set the plate before her at the table. Lulu gripped her spoon firmly, popping in a piece.
Few teeth meant she melted it gently with her tongue—like a baby bird. Her chubby cheeks worked, eyes crinkling in bliss.
"Daddy... thiiiis meeeat... meeelts. Sooo tasty!"
"Good? Eat up and grow big."
"Yup! Lulu eat looots... Grow taaaller than Daddy!"
Gesturing a huge circle with both hands, milk mustache white on her lips. I wiped it, stifling a laugh.
Belly full, Lulu hummed happily as dawn light crept through box cracks.
Bedtime.
Outside, morning sun rose—but for night-owl Lulu, it was sleep time.
I stroked her nodding head, murmuring.
"...Gotta switch her days and nights soon."
I carried her to the bathroom.
Warm water fluffied her up; she nuzzled my shoulder contentedly.
Into soft cotton pajamas—dreamland ready.
"Daddy... sleeepy..."
"Yeah, sleep now."
I laid her gently, tucking the blanket to her chin.
Clutching Mimi tight, Lulu whispered sleepily.
"Mimiii... gooood... heehee..."
A faint smile bloomed.
Her breath, leaking through gapped teeth, felt sweet in serene peace.
"Daddy... here now... Lulu not scaaared..."
Her tiny hand, fiddling Mimi's ear, fell limp onto the blanket.
"Daddy... staaay foreveeer... haaappy... by Lulu's siiide..."
Her voice faded to whispers, but etched clear in my ears.
A child's simple, earnest wish: stay forever.
I patted her little chest over the blanket, whispering low.
"Yeah. I'll stay by your side forever."
"So sleep without worry. When you wake, we'll be ready to head to that ocean you want."
To my pat, she replied with happy sleepy breaths, sinking deep.
I watched her sleeping face long.
Confirming deep slumber, I rose slowly.
Waved a hand—dawn light from window cracks vanished.
Instead, the room filled with warm, cozy orange glow—like a soft mood light.
Bright enough not to scare if she woke; her favorite toasty warmth.
Satisfied with the perfect night space, I rose.
Back to the comfy dark, I opened the door to clear the trash outside—lest it disturb her dreams.
Creeeak.
Outside, misty dawn brightened with rising sun.
But as my foot crossed the threshold, that radiant light dared not touch me—chilled cold at my feet.
"Time to get started."
When Lulu woke and opened the window, her world would be a blank white canvas—pure, untainted.
I melted silently into the shadows, stepping into the village's silence.