The Saintess and Sloth [2]
“Time to get started.”
When Lulu wakes up and opens the door, the world she faces should be like a pure white canvas, untouched by any filth. I slip silently into the shadows and step into the village's stillness.
Thud, thud—.
Over the sound of my footsteps crunching the hard dirt ground, the noises of morning overlap and drift in. The thick phlegm spat out while shaking off last night's hangover, the low curses muttered in envy of someone, the vile voices greedily calculating the day's profits.
I cut through those noises and trudge indifferently toward the village square. Suddenly, a bitter self-mockery wells up in a corner of my chest.
……I was wrong.
Once human myself, I believed in the miracles nestled in their short lives. I mistook some sublime value in how they built civilizations in fleeting moments, struggling for a better tomorrow even amid hardships.
I recall debating human potential with Lucian. Looking back now, it was utter nonsense. Memories of living in the abundant modern era clouded my judgment.
My thinking was too shallow.
Humans are inherently foolish, instinctively ugly, inevitably cruel. Peel away just one layer of the thin skin that the era of plenty draped over them, and beneath lurks a rotten pus-like nature.
This held true for the refined underbelly of the modern society I lived in, and for the histories so faint even records are scarce before that.
The madness of witch hunts burning innocents in God's name. The arrogance of lords driving tens of thousands of serfs to slaughter for mere bloodlines and pretexts. Fanatics hurling children onto battlefields in the saintess's name, then tossing them into flames to atone for defeat under collective hypnosis. Even the destruction of humanity where, amid great famines, they couldn't endure hunger and boiled their own kin in pots.
The bedrock of time called the past was filled with such filth. The civilizations humans piled up under the name of progress were mirages built on someone's blood and screams.
This barbaric scene now, where they slit neighbors' throats for a scrap of bread, was no different in essence from the massacres glorified as holy wars in the past.
Humans had never truly progressed. They'd merely refined the tools to justify their cruelty a bit more elegantly.
Lucian, you were right.
The habit of trampling the weak and using others' misery as stepping stones for a scrap of comfort is etched into their souls. They're just leeches sustaining themselves by devouring each other and sucking the blood of the weak within their allotted time.
Lulu's tears, the child's damaged teeth, the cold scars of rejection that clawed her tender heart.
They proved to me how arrogant my faint hopes had been.
By the time I reached the square, the air around me had already chilled cold.
I stop walking and look up at the sky. The rising sun is dazzlingly beautiful, but those breathing under it have no right to its light.
I shake off the languor, fill myself with utter thoroughgoing coldness, and raise my hand. Then I whisper low, a murmur that reaches no one but reverberates through the world's roots.
“……You who are called the Creator. Foolish father who erased yourself for failing to make your perfect world. Foolish corpse who abandoned us creations in disgust.”
My voice carries a fishy sneer.
“Bring an end to this arrogant world where you failed.”
The moment the words end, the air enveloping me begins to corrupt into a dark crimson. This is no power to open a repository of knowledge.
It is my true power as the root of Sloth, absolute ruler of Hell.
The horrific, colossal mana I'd forcibly sealed lest it harm Lulu bursts free from its bonds.
There is no explosive wave. Instead, the world falls into a silence so terrifying it's absolute. No living thing dares even to breathe.
From my fingertips, a single thin red thread rises toward the sky.
Tsssss—.
The red thread shoots into the air in an instant, spreading like a vast spiderweb to blanket the heavens. At the same moment, hot bloody tears stream from my red eyes.
The thread envelops the entire village from the sky, forming an invisible barrier. The cognitive dampening suggestion I'd placed until then unravels.
“Wha……? Wh-what the hell is that!”
“The sky…… why's the sky doing that!”
Panic-stricken screams erupt. The morning sunlight and crisp dawn air have long vanished.
What they face is a blood-soaked sky, and tens of thousands of massive eyes densely embedded in that void, one by one floating up.
Srrrrr—.
No sound emerges, yet a chilling vibration scrapes the soul's depths, crushing the entire village.
Those eyes, guardians of Hell across eons, gaze down upon the earth in unison. Humans forget even to flee, staring soul-lost at Hell in the sky.
My lips, shedding bloody tears, slowly part.
“Mercy for petty sinners. Pain for grave ones.”
At the pronouncement, bloody tears cascade like waterfalls from the massive eyes in the sky.
Sploooosh—!
The village drowns in sticky blood in an instant. Terror-filled screams fill the square. Those touched by the blood writhe in agony unlike any in life, howling.
“Save me! It burns! My body's melting!”
“No! Noooo!! Anyone!! Please stop!!!”
Ugly struggles erupt everywhere—shoving neighbors, trampling them to climb higher for survival. But the blood offers no mercy.
Sin-laden children, solely for being Lulu's age, crumble painlessly into nothingness under my mercy, witnessing their parents' deaths.
But the adults—not children—who should teach kindness and proper masks, instead passing on evil and ugly natures to their own—face Hell's merciless maw.
“Aaaaaagh!! It burns! Buuuurns!!!”
“Save me! My body, my booooody!! Kyaaaagh!”
“KyaAAAAAAGH!! It hurts!! Huurts!! Please!!”
The square fills with wretched screams and the stench of melting flesh. Watching from the bench, my brow furrows faintly. It started with burning rage, but at some point, my heart chills grotesquely cold.
Then, red letters flicker sharply before my eyes like a warning.
[Contract Violation: Detected emotional use of Authority outside the scope of subject 'Lulu'.]
[Penalty: The suppressed 'Sloth' nature resynchronizes.]
“……Ah.”
A short groan slips between my lips. What follows is a chilling sensation and an excruciating irritation crushing my brain.
Even the pretext of 'purification' for Lulu fades dim. The child sleeps safely, yet wasting energy and emotion clearing out this trash feels unbearably unpleasant.
The penalty is ruthless. The paternal bonds holding me human weaken, and in their place, the Sloth that dominated me across eons floods in like a blackout.
It happens in an instant. The rage and hatred driving me evaporate traceless. In their stead settles a profound boredom where even twitching a finger feels like torture.
……Haa.
Too noisy, too long. I'm sick of savoring screams or contemplating pain. This 'tedious' process of shoving filth one by one into agony is now just unbearable noise.
“……Enough.”
I uncross my legs and tap my foot toward the ground.
Thud—!
A light step, but the result is not. The moment my foot touches earth, the blood tears filling the square and the screaming humans shatter like broken mirror shards.
The tens of thousands of eyes blanketing the sky close in unison, vanishing into darkness. No need for pain, no reason for screams. I just want this racket gone from my sight, my world. Responding to my sloth, the myriad eyes in the sky blur and shut. The bloody waterfall halts, but the crimson barrier over the village contracts sharply inward.
No need for pain, no reason for screams. I just want this racket gone from my sight, my world.
“All of you, begone.”
At my words, the screaming humans sink into shadows like unreal mirages, all at once.
Regression to utter nothingness, not even a speck of dust left.
The alley littered with drunks' thrown bottles, the market stall where the owner bellowed moments ago, the brazier trailing smoke—all remain in place. Even the meat chunks in boiling pots bubble on. Only the 'human' species filling this space vanished cleanly.
The square falls silent again, morning sun pouring over me on the bench, but I merely gaze at the empty village with eyes weary of all things.
Now it's quiet.
I rise heavily from the bench. The penalty's sloth weighs like lead on my body, but amid this vicious ennui, there's only one place I must go.
Thud, thud—.
I cross the ghost town streets devoid of all, heading home. I carefully open the wooden box door amid the trash pile and enter.
Warm, cozy air unlike the eerie outer silence welcomes me.
There lies Lulu, deep in innocent slumber. Her small chest rises and falls rhythmically, even breaths slipping from parted lips. Her dreamworld seems peaceful still.
I sit quietly by the bed, gently brushing back her hair.
A pure white canvas free of blood reek, screams, ugly desires. Instead of the world I just erased, the one Lulu faces tomorrow morning must hold only this tranquility.
I slowly lie beside Lulu. Faint warmth seeps from her to my cold fingertips. The vicious sloth from the penalty crushes my body like lead, but this ennui by her side is sweeter rest than anything.
Unable to fight drooping eyelids, I sink into deep sleep feeling her warmth.
*
“……It's eerily quiet.”
Dismounting, Gawayne grips his holy sword hilt and murmurs low. Even Kai, who'd usually crack a joke, swallows dryly with humor wiped clean, facing the bizarre silence swallowing the village.
Se Rena, pale-faced, leads and turns to Lian.
“Lady Lian, anything on your senses? Residual mana or…… enemy presence.”
Lian sharpens her senses gripping holy sword Aster, but soon shakes her head heavily.
“No. Nothing. All presences definable as life are gone. No heartbeats, no breaths, not even insects crawling. It's like this village was carved whole from the world.”
As she said. The village isn't destroyed—only 'life' is gone.
“Search first. Scatter and check for people. Signal immediately if anything unnatural.”
At Se Rena's order, the Three Swords disperse into the village. Se Rena enters too, clutching her rosary.
The first house she enters is ordinarily mundane to a fault. A steaming soup bowl sits on the table, firewood crackles red in the brazier. A ladle lies dropped on the kitchen floor.
“……Anyone here?”
Se Rena calls cautiously, answered only by the wall clock's second hand. She moves to the next house, then the one after.
Bedrooms full of recent warmth, living rooms echoing with children's laughter moments ago. But no 'humans' anywhere.
Aprons hung on chairs where owners wore them, shoes neatly in racks—yet owners evaporated.
The deeper into the village Se Rena goes, the more chills grip her, arms hugging tight. This isn't mere disappearance. Something primal and absolute swept through.
Haa… what in the world…….
Then, Kai's urgent shout from the central square shatters the silence.
“Saintess! Over here! Something weird!”
Se Rena runs to the square. Gawayne and Lian, already there, stare grimly at the worn bench by the fountain.
Where Kai points, odd traces remain—like someone sat there moments ago.
Everything around the fountain is dry, but only that bench's ground before it is deeply cratered as if crushed, unknown chill rising like haze from the cracks.
“……What is this?”
As Kai reaches cautiously for the cratered earth, Lian yanks his wrist roughly.
“Don't touch. It's not mana.”
Lian frowns, bringing holy sword Aster near the crack. But the blue glow on the blade scatters feebly before touching—like the very concept of 'power' doesn't exist there.
“No mana. No divine power, no ki. But…… space itself is crushed by something. My senses can't read it.”
Gawayne pauses his gauntleted hand sweeping the crack's soil. Not even soil. The crushed spot feels like that part of the world was 'excised,' tangibility faint.
“No physical impact traces. No shockwaves, no heat. How's the ground cratered like this? Saintess, any forbidden magics in the Holy Kingdom records like this?”
To Gawayne's heavy question, Se Rena grips her rosary tighter, shaking her head. Deep furrows crease her brow, fear of a vast unknown she's never faced etched there.
“……No. No records of such power in the Holy Kingdom. It's not destruction—more like existence itself denied……”
“Oh, that?”
Suddenly, a heavy yet languid weight drapes on Se Rena's shoulder.
A natural, peaceful touch like an old friend's arm around her. Se Rena's face drains paper-white. Lian, Gawayne, and Kai's eyes bulge in shock.
There stands a man, presence unknown until when.
Not a hint registered on their senses moments ago.
Not Lian's super-senses, Gawayne's instincts, Se Rena's divine power sensed his approach.
Like air always there, or part of the 'scenery' they saw, he casually rests his arm on the saintess's shoulder, gazing at the crack.
“Just stomped a bit hard. No big deal, don't mind it.”
The man's voice is viciously low and dreamy. Meeting the saintess's shocked gaze, he lazily lifts the corner of his mouth.
“'Cause it was noisy. Got annoyed for a sec.”
His voice is viciously low and languid. Sleepy-dreamy, yet a bizarre calm chilling the spine.
Se Rena stiffens, forgetting to breathe. His warmth on her shoulder is clear, but the sensation is an ice pick stabbing her heart—peak terror.
“……Who, are you.”
Gawayne's voice trembles as his hand goes to his sword hilt.
His knightly instinct screams to draw and swing, but his fingers freeze like lead-weighted, unmoving. The more he tries, grotesque pressure crushes him, cold sweat trails his cheek.
Then, piercing the frozen terror-silence, Se Rena's trembling lips part barely.
“……The Void.”
The name of emptiness felt only by her, born of holy power, from the spot where existence vanished.
At the call, the man with arm on the saintess's shoulder halts.
He tilts his head curiously, slowly turns his face to meet Se Rena's while keeping the arm-around-shoulder.
“……?”
The moment eyes meet at close range, Se Rena feels her heart stop.
The man's lax eyelids slowly lift. What flickers within isn't human. Beast-slit vertical pupils filled with ominous, vivid crimson.
Flash—.
In that instant, his red eyes gleam grotesquely. Mere eye contact beside her overwhelms like a predator's pressure that could evaporate the soul whole. He tightens his arm slightly around her shoulder, flashing a cruel, chilling smile at Se Rena.
“……You know me, huh?”
The low, laid voice loses its languor. It's a ravenous monster whispering in recognized prey's ear—viciously fishy, lethally thrilled.