Chapter 545: Advent of the Saintess
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 545: Advent of the Saintess
In the western part of the continent, on a peninsula stretching into the Mediterranean Sea, stood the Monastery of the Lighthouse. It was a beacon for sailors, illuminating the Mediterranean coast, the continent's only sea route. The monks who resided here, their skin tanned black by the sea breeze, battled against the harsh ocean.
Gillo, a monk of the Monastery of the Lighthouse, was observing the Great White Wall when he discovered letters spreading across it in red. It was a monk's duty to immediately transcribe any writing that appeared on the Great White Wall and preserve it as an official document. He hurriedly grabbed paper and a pen, but as he prepared to write, he saw the red stains and frowned.
"Red? Is this from the Monastery of Blood?"
The Monastery of Blood had no information worth relaying through the Great White Wall. What could those heretics from that distant, savage land possibly have to report?
"They'll probably just pull some nonsense about another 'Apostle of the Lamb' appearing."
That was the only kind of news that ever came from the Monastery of Blood. Devoid of enthusiasm, he dipped his pen into the red ink.
At that moment, the Great White Wall turned crimson.
It was as if someone had been murdered against it. Bloodstains splattered everywhere as words written in fresh blood were carved into the wall. Was a victim leaving a message in their own blood? The gruesome and cruel sight so startled the monk that he slammed his knee against his desk.
"Agh!"
It was clearly an anomaly, but it was still his duty to record it.
Belatedly remembering his obligation, the monk rushed to transcribe the message on the Great White Wall, but upon reading the words, he realized his attempt was meaningless.
The Monastery of Blood was requesting an audience with the Saintess.
Similar events occurred in various places around the world. On a small Great White Wall buried in the scorched earth of the Fallen Dominion, and on one as massive as the ramparts of the Empire's central headquarters. A revelation, so coarse and barbaric it could only be called an aberration, echoed across the land.
Everyone knew who was committing such an atrocity on the Great White Wall, the medium for God's word. But all they could do was watch, helpless.
After all, it was the doing of the Monastery of Blood, which reigned over the savage lands beyond the Enger Plains on the opposite side of the continent.
Having committed her deed with flair, Yegcheria placed both hands on the now-crimson wall.
"Even the Saintesses won't be able to ignore this. Ah, it's been so long since I've received a revelation from a Saintess!"
"This is a bit extreme, even if it's to get a firm answer."
"The Sanctum are guardians of stale order and convention. They are dullards who only react when shown something drastic. To reach a Saintess, you must present them with a problem they can never solve on their own!"
She had a point. No matter how powerful the Sanctum was, they couldn't just let the Great White Wall remain stained with blood. Sure enough, a signal came almost immediately.
[How dare you, a vampire, defile the Great White Wall of Rakion with blood! Do you mock the sacred bricks upon which the teachings of the Saintess of Origin are transcribed!]
White letters appeared on the blood-soaked wall. In that instant, a fierce light erupted, driving out the blood energy that tainted the wall.
[This stain shall be purified by light! Fallen nun, vanish into the annals of history!]
Long ago, in an age when the teachings of the Sky God were treated as heresy and persecuted, the Saintess of Origin secretly taught people literacy and faith by writing on baked bricks. When soldiers came, the faithful would assemble their bricks to hide the teachings.
Then one day, suspicious soldiers tore down a wall of these bricks. Just as the Saintess's teachings were about to be exposed to the world, a miracle occurred. The Sky God's words had transformed into a stern rebuke against the oppressors. The soldiers of the tyrant realized the Saintess was a true prophet and repented.
The miracle born from this old tale was the Great White Wall of Rakion, named after a bricklayer who had baked the bricks for them.
All Great White Walls, though in different locations, were one and the same. The teachings of the Sky God were transmitted across them all.
Conversely, this meant that a miracle manifested at another monastery could affect the one in the Monastery of Blood.
Words appeared all over the Great White Wall.
[We condemn you!]
[We shall pass judgment!]
[Repent!]
Halos of light erupted from various points on the wall. The holy light, which purified all things, bored holes into the dense blood energy. The growing halos of light began to tear apart the curtain of blood, attempting to restore the Great White Wall to its original white.
"To seek teachings is to arrive; to extend a hand is to draw near. To hear my voice and feel my touch is the path to the Sky God. Therefore, he who blocks the path is the devil."
Bloodcraft, Blood Rite of Exorcism.
The blood sacrament to drive out evil was performed. The vampire nun chanted from the scriptures, unleashing her blood energy.
The halos of light still flashed, but the curtain of blood only yielded for a moment before flowing back down to fill the gaps. Dozens of holy lights flickered intermittently, unable to overwhelm the blood rite.
"You cannot erase my words simply by telling me not to defile the wall. You cannot condemn and erase them just because I wrote them in blood. The scriptures do not say so."
"That's because vampires didn't exist back then."
"But it's not written, is it?"
To a crazed fanatic, anything not written in the scriptures was not truth. An extreme fundamentalist bordered on an extreme progressive; they were lenient about things not found in their principles.
The light from the Great White Wall flickered as if in confusion. At least dozens of monks were exerting their power, but they couldn't handle the strength of Yegcheria alone. It would take an abbot or a bishop-level cleric, or several of them working in unison, to even stand a chance.
Of course, there was an easier way to resolve the situation. It was tantamount to giving in to a terrorist's demands, but it was a more certain method. Yegcheria suddenly lifted her head, her expression brightening.
"Ah, our blessed Saintess, blessed by the Saintess of Origin. Thank you for bestowing your grace upon this monastery!"
And then, causality was twisted.
There was a sound like something stretched taut snapping. Simultaneously, the blood energy that had filled the Great White Wall vanished in an instant.
It wasn't pushed away or driven out. The Great White Wall simply returned to its original state. It was a higher-order miracle, on a different level from simple miracles or power struggles.
The Great White Wall had been restored by the power of a Saintess.
As if it had never been stained with blood, the Great White Wall regained its purity, and the words of a single person gently materialized upon it.
[I have stopped you, Yegcheria. Because I have come to you myself.]
What? What does that mean?
Despite the strangely twisted causality in the message, Yegcheria clasped her hands in rapture, welcoming the Saintess's revelation.
"Oh, Lord... The Sky God's humble servant welcomes the light that has visited this remote monastery."
One could write on the Great White Wall, but voices could not be transmitted. Yegcheria manipulated her blood energy to write on the wall. However, the moment the blood energy touched the Great White Wall, which was being maintained in its original form by some power, it disappeared.
The power of a Saintess was a tier above holy power. With a vision that transcended time and space, they could perform unimaginable miracles. The Saintess, having 'erased' the blood energy without any relation to Yegcheria's power or authority, calmly wrote her message.
[No matter what I answer, I cannot undo the twisted causality that is you. That is providence. However, as a Saintess, I ask you, who were once so devout: cease your wandering and return to the embrace of God. Though that flesh may be cursed, I will preserve your spirit alone so that it may regain the light.]
She's telling her to die. A faithful follower of the Sanctum would likely not think twice about dying for their faith. Yegcheria, however, smiled lightly and waved a blood-stained finger.
"Ah, Saintess. Your jest goes too far. 'Fear not death. If you possess a clear and pure spirit, the Sky God will gladly offer you a place by His side.' If my spirit is clear, what reason is there that I cannot practice goodness and virtue even with this humble body?"
This time, too, the words vanished before they could even touch the Great White Wall. Although the message clearly hadn't been transmitted beyond the wall, the Saintess replied as if she had understood.
[It is the fate of a Saintess to be unable to avoid a predetermined outcome. I had to ask, even knowing you would not comply. Therefore, I will remain silent on the question you are about to ask.]
"Saintess. What I wish to convey to you is..."
[That was not meant for you, Yegcheria. It was for the King of Humans who incited you.]
Huh? She shouldn't be able to see me.
The Great White Wall was just a wall on which the same words appeared in all locations. It didn't transmit scenes or situations. But for some reason, the Saintess beyond the wall was looking directly at me.
[There is no need to trouble yourself repeating an answer you already know. Nor can I give you an answer you do not know. The causality for this conversation to continue has ended, so I can now tie this knot.]
Those words were the truth.
No matter what we said, no matter what bloody spectacle Yegcheria created, that Saintess could close and refuse this conversation at will. That must be the power of Ticiel, the Saintess of Causality.
I couldn't even begin to guess what kind of ability it was. It would probably be the same even if I read her thoughts to grasp its essence. It was likely a power like that of Feruel the Saintess of Steel—difficult to understand, and impossible to counter even if understood.
But even a Saintess wasn't omnipotent. The very fact that this conversation, which the Saintess of Causality could not reach, was happening meant there was an opening.
"Does that mean I can think whatever I want?"
Before Yegcheria could even write the words, the Great White Wall answered on its own.
[Yes. This conversation is already concluded.]
So, my deductions are mostly correct, and she won't tell me anything that's still just a hypothesis? A fine attitude, but unfortunately, that's not enough right now.
Because there was a protagonist here who wouldn't understand without an explanation.
"That's what she says, Shei. What do you think?"
The Regressor, who had been standing with a sullen expression, retorted irritably.
"What's that supposed to mean? Explain it so I can understand."
'Ticiel's way of speaking is so convoluted, it's hard to understand. Hah, if the Chief Crusader were here, she could interpret. I can't tell from beyond the Great White Wall.'
At that, the Great White Wall briefly went blank. In a script that was clearly flustered, the Saintess's message was conveyed.
[Yegcheria. What have you brought with you? The causality is twist—]
It was then.
The letters collapsed, powerless.
The words written in the air trembled, then broke apart into consonants and vowels, crumbling away. The disintegrated letters fell to the bottom of the Great White Wall, where they reassembled to form a single phrase.
The light came down from the heavens.
In that moment, without any precursor or warning, a girl with her eyes peacefully closed appeared in the chapel.
No, could you even call it appearing?
If a presence was a sign of existence, then she was exuding an overwhelming one. I was aware of her existence even when my head was turned away. My consciousness was focused on her more certainly than anything else.
But she did not exist here. That illusion had no warmth, no weight, no elegant voice.
There was no one here. But she was definitely present. If asked to draw her, I could. But if I were to look at her in a mirror, her image would vanish like a phantom.
It was less that she was here, and more that the 'fact' of her being here was being transmitted directly into my mind. I couldn't read her thoughts and she had no sense of reality, but she was undeniably present.
"It's been a dreadfully long time, King of Humans and Yegcheria."
A voice, as if transmitted across time and space—soft, clear, and holding an unchanging truth—reached us. The Saintess, her eyes still closed, looked directly at the Regressor and offered a melancholic greeting.
"And you, my last hope and first despair."
Since I couldn't read her thoughts, I didn't know who she was or what power she possessed. The Regressor, however, knew who stood before her. Faced with such a tremendous miracle, she greeted the figure with a familiar calm, as if pleased by the meeting.
"Nice to see you, Mayel."