Chapter 214
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 214
Chapter Title: After the Storm
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"...Huh!!"
A tiny scratch on the armament, small enough that only its owner—who handled it every day—would notice.
Even if it wasn't enough to call a blemish unless you looked very closely, and it didn't interfere with use in the slightest.
It was shocking.
A small crack like this was no trivial matter.
Tiny fissures always led to larger ones.
"...Why are you like this? Are you feeling unwell after all?!"
"No, it's nothing..."
I snapped out of it at the Saintess's voice and gently massaged the hand gripping Gleipnir.
Vaguely.
It was just a vague sensation, but...
It felt like it was telling me this much was fine.
Scrape—
Gleipnir wriggled in my palm of its own accord, expressing its intent.
It wasn't words I heard or letters I saw.
It was the sensation of a lump of emotion surging toward me.
...I have to find a way to fix it somehow.
I believed one of the ideas flickering through my mind held the answer.
If I couldn't find it with the knowledge in my head, I'd go straight to the Martial God and bash my skull against his if I had to.
It was best to learn how to repair these minor damages before it suffered major injury or broke.
If this was a situation I'd face someday anyway.
Part of me even felt relieved that it had ended at this level.
... .
For Gleipnir, which unlike ordinary armaments possessed emotions, this was especially regrettable.
The Martial God's words from our meeting in the mental realm pierced my heart.
- Remember that child will possess unyieldingly sturdy and powerful strength according to the user's level, but conversely, it can become as fragile as a newborn's grasp.
Gleipnir was a pure aggregate of power that changed in capability based on the user's prowess.
In the end, what this wound signified was clear and unmistakable.
My own lack of ability...
Bitter reality settled in my mouth as I faced my shortcomings head-on.
At the same time, a resolve to run myself ragged and seize more power so this never happened again.
It was the venomous drive from my early adventuring days, crawling on the brink of death every other day.
'Sorry, my unworthy master.'
I stroked Gleipnir in my hand.
At some point, it had begun wrapping around my hand, trying to comfort me instead, so I quietly sent it back.
"Brother...! Let me treat you first!"
"A potion will suffice for wounds like these. Just some muscle stiffness, and no broken bones."
The Saintess furrowed her sky-blue brows in a pout that didn't suit her upon hearing me, then began gathering holy power in her hands while launching into a sermon like a chant.
"Brother Roman... Didn't I tell you last time? Even the finest potions aren't miracle cures."
"..."
Experience had taught me that when the mood was like this, keeping my mouth shut was the best choice.
Mazella, standing behind her, gave an awkward smile and repeatedly bowed her head in a gesture begging for understanding.
"I may not know much else, but healing people is my specialty, so trust me. A shock like that could cause internal issues."
Her face brimmed with mission-driven professionalism and utmost sincerity.
As if fearing the patient might bolt, she clutched the bloodstained collar of my clothes.
'What strength is this?'
I knew, yet experiencing it still surprised me.
Not because it was too strong, but too weak.
Her slender grip made me doubt if she could even properly hold a soup spoon.
Would I end up flinging her and hurting her if I moved carelessly against such feeble force?
A dizzying thought froze me in place.
Satisfied with my stillness, she smiled and moved her hands.
Dazzling holy light gathered and poured into my body.
"I beseech the Goddess's intervention for those in pain. Knowing all healing stems from Her, we stand here—ease their suffering and grant comfort."
"Heal."
The simple healing spell used by nuns at the Adventurer's Guild.
A basic holy technique for cuts or minor bruises, reinterpreted in the Saintess's hands.
No one in the Empire could match her recovery prowess.
As my body swiftly regained its condition, I marveled inwardly while watching her pout fade. I spoke up.
"Thank you for your mercy, Saintess. Saying a potion would do it wasn't out of distrust or any arrogant notion."
She met my eyes blankly at my words, then smiled with a warm scent.
The light from the holy power faded as the treatment ended.
"I know you're not that kind of person. And thank you truly for today."
Her sky-blue hair and the rosary around her neck swayed downward.
As the Saintess bowed her head, Mazella behind her bowed deeply as well.
Not the Church's prayer hands, but a straightforward bow from the waist.
Honestly, having the Church's figurehead do this was burdensome even for me.
"Saintess. This was just a commission, so I don't deserve your thanks. I'll be receiving a massive sum to fulfill my personal greed as compensation."
The Saintess lifted her head, straightened her disheveled rosary, then gave a faint smile at my words, nodding as her gaze dropped to the blood-caked floor.
"Brother Roman. I don't know what life you've lived to reach Platinum rank as you are now. I wouldn't dare presume."
"..."
"I may seem presumptuous, not knowing the adventuring life in detail. But you mustn't grow numb or accustomed to overworking your body."
The Saintess paused for breath, closed her eyes to hide her sky-blue irises, and moved her lips.
I waited for her unfinished words to continue.
"Even if the masses and bards call it valor when one faces immense pain and shock without a shred of fear. Those who truly love you and stand close would worry first..."
She concluded with those words, and I couldn't hide my tension.
It might be overstepping for even a Saintess to lecture one of the Adventurer's Guild's top forces.
...Was that too presumptuous?
She'd always had a similar temperament.
But handling sacred objects and communing with the Goddess had deepened it, making her spout near-warnings at injured patients in a meddlesome, almost pathological way.
Having pried, she was prepared for backlash.
This time was no different.
Telling an adventurer bearing their burdens not to get hurt?
'Utterly unreasonable meddling...'
Atra had her eyes closed.
Surely, no one enjoyed killing or courting death.
Especially those secure in their positions would react with 'Nice words, but how can you live like that?' or feign agreement due to her status as the Church's Saintess.
'Is she quite angry...?'
As I waited a moment.
A sincere response returned, laced with soft laughter and warmth.
"Thank you for the wise words. I'll keep them in mind on future commissions."
......
......
'What's with her?'
Her upward gaze, due to our height difference, felt burdensome.
I scratched my chin habitually at the ticklish feeling, watching the Saintess blink her sky-blue eyes.
I had no intention of pointless rebuttal to her obvious advice.
Watching her gain that perspective from the brawl with the Fourth Knight befitted a woman bearing the name Saintess.
Hard to explain, but the Saintess possessed persuasively irrefutable eloquence and aura.
Some boundless compassion for all I couldn't comprehend.
Impressive that from mere acquaintanceship, she voiced such genuine concern.
"Heehee... A man so many women would grieve for if something happened can't neglect his care, right?"
I lifted the corner of my mouth at the Saintess's joke, her serious face melting into a smile at the end.
"No room for excuses there—that's absolutely right."
Sure enough, as the Saintess said.
If my women managed and bought even my outing gear, I couldn't have hidden this bloodstain.
I dreaded the worry and words I'd face if they saw it.
I unhesitatingly discarded the blood-crusted clothes, changed, and rinsed the blood from my stiff boots with water.
"Whew—"
The tumultuous commission that nearly etched itself into imperial history books was over.
With no further business as a lone adventurer, I took my leave.
'Hope Eclair isn't too worried.'
If Duke Amaranth reported exactly what he'd witnessed without filter, Eclair in the same place would likely hear.
No, she'd definitely hear.
Assuming she didn't was futile wishful thinking.
'If I say the Saintess healed me right away, maybe she'll relax.'
Rotating my shoulders and neck yielded no pain.
Condition wasn't peak, but decent.
Hard to believe this body had taken dozens of punches from the Fourth Knight, tantamount to blunt weapons.
'Time to go.'
Thud—thud—
Walking the back alleys, Ied my plans once more.
My original morning plan had been to head home post-commission for training.
But with the Academy not yet done for the day, my thoughts had completely changed on what to do.