Apostle of Gentleness -4-
A very long time ago, there was a woman with peculiar eyes. She could see the emotions buried in people's hearts as colors and comfort them accordingly.
The woman adored the discipline of faith. She loved the virtues of a god who poured out endlessly and devoted himself without reservation. So she dedicated her entire life to that god. After all, it was the greatest offering she could give.
With the desire to spread that god's love to as many people as possible, she became a nun and bestowed her gift upon everyone. Even on the battlefield. Even in the darkest shadows, the very endpoint of humanity's ugliness. She lived proclaiming that god's love.
People, witnessing the nun who seemed like the reincarnation of a saintess, applauded and asked her, "Aren't you tired?" They questioned what was so good about spreading a god's unrequited love, one that brought no reward.
Born into blue blood as a noble, she could have lived a life free of envy—yet people mocked her for not enjoying it.
To their questions, the woman always responded with a foolish smile.
"If I die someday, won't the Lord recognize my sacrifice?"
The nobles mocked her as a fool. The commoners applauded her noble sacrifice. They called her a wingless angel.
And so her sacrifices continued. Persisting to this day. Though now veering down a somewhat misguided path.
Her name was Elishea. The Saintess of Gentleness.
Shartia stared at the woman before her, her face etched with disbelief. It simply shouldn't have been possible.
"Why you..."
She wasn't a saintess proclaimed by any church. People had simply called her that—unlike the saintesses in history books, she wielded no divine powers. Just superior divine force and selfless sacrifice. An ordinary nun.
Shartia squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to untangle her jumbled thoughts. She racked her brain, pondering where things had gone wrong, what had twisted out of shape, reflecting on her own mistakes. Normally, she would have doubted Rohan's words from the start.
Only now did she realize the whole affair had been off from the beginning. With trembling eyes, she sifted through her memories.
Yet Shartia still couldn't piece it together. There was no connection to this woman. Not at the Academy. Not in the dorms. She'd never met her there. Except for that one time, three years ago, when she had come to give a lecture at the Academy.
The magic's influence should have faded long ago. In utter disbelief, Shartia gazed at Elishea with quivering eyes. Her own thoughts yielded no answers.
Elishea offered a benevolent smile and bowed her head. Even that slight motion carried a sacred air. Laughably so.
"Such precious guests. Faces rare even to glimpse in the Empire, and so many at once."
Elishea met their eyes one by one, reciting their names.
"The princess bearing commoner blood, Shartia."
"The young swordsman who achieved greatness at such a tender age, Mihail."
"The pitiful mage lost to his own pride, Ruin."
Clapping her hands, she turned to the platinum-haired man with a radiant smile.
"Oh my, even the Empire's second-brightest crown prince. To grace this humble church—what an honor. As a cleric, I scarcely know where to put myself."
Shartia knew this woman. Which only heightened her terror at the situation.
"Sister Elishea? Why is the Saintess of Gentleness here of all places...?"
"Hehe... I'm honored you remember this worthless nun's name, Princess."
"You—! Why are you, the one they called a saintess, here?!"
Elishea shook her head with a sweet smile at Shartia's outburst.
"I'm not the person you imagine, Princess. Just an opportunist biding her time for heavenly reward."
"Then why...?"
"Because the god I serve is here."
She drew the bible at her side into a loving embrace and addressed Shartia.
"My home is right here. Is there a problem with that? Surely the princess came to the shepherd's house to feed lost souls?"
"..."
"When a sheep strays, it's only natural for the shepherd to light the way. Just as the Lord guided me, fate has led you all to me."
With a small smile, Elishea began dispelling Shartia's doubts.
"Lately, unresolved troubles have been piling up, weighing on you?"
"..."
"An overwhelming terror gnawing at your hearts."
"..."
"That's why you're writhing in such trials."
Shartia glared daggers and spat venomously. Stop spouting nonsense.
"Was it you? Did you do this?"
Elishea gazed at Shartia with a faint smile.
"I haven't the foggiest what you're asking."
"Did you lure us here?!"
"I merely stimulated your hearts. Gave you the nudge to act on those long-held wishes."
Elishea gently wiggled her fingertips, tracing a line in the air. White light scattered from her fingers, and a familiar blueprint filled Shartia's vision: the Academy. The layout of the place she'd spent four years, unfurled in midair.
"The most vital thing in proselytizing is the spark."
Elishea dotted the map's center with a smile. The heart of the Academy—the barrier stone. Guardian of the Academy, the origin of the barrier crafted by the founding emperor.
"Where discontent festers, the wick is always primed to ignite. They need something to lean on, to depend upon."
"..."
"I simply made you honest. Stoked that latent faith yearning for God."
She sketched more images in the air: Shartia toiling in her office; Yuria barricaded in the bathroom, sobbing; Ruin holed up in his room.
Elishea smiled as she spoke.
"My gift from God is planting the seeds of conversion in hearts."
"..."
"I just peek at your hidden anxieties. How, you ask? Hehe. Indeed."
With a gentle smile, Elishea sealed her lips.
"The god I serve turns the impossible possible. All it takes is prostrating in gentleness. That's why I love you all—and why I called you here."
Elishea shifted slowly.
"Like magnets, this bond."
She stroked the head of Rohan, standing at the fore, with black nails and a pleased smile.
"The force that won't let go even if you try—we call it magnetism."
Rohan was trembling. Shaking like an aspen leaf. Her faint breath made his shoulders quake; her black nails grazing his skin drew his eyes shut tight, ragged breaths escaping him.
"Krghhh..."
"Brother Rohan. Do you remember now?"
"Aa... Uwaaaak!!!"
"I heard you shared many tales with Brother 'Mercy' Yung, the one who heals painful memories."
"Sh... Shut up...!"
"Sweet dreams?"
"Shut up... you devil!"
"Hehe... My faithful tool, Brother Rohan. Such naughty words."
Elishea's hand began to glow. The light that had painted pictures in the air now engulfed Rohan's head, writhing ferociously as if to devour him. It sealed his eyes and mouth, slowly consuming him bit by bit.
"A servant of God lives for their purpose. That's the joy of one made servant."
"Kweeegh!"
"Cast those bad memories aside here, and let's pray together like before."
Proselytizing.
"After all, I'm a proselytizer."
As the light on her hand faded, Rohan whirled around to face the frozen student council executives.
Shartia. Yuria. Ruin. Hanna. Mihail.
Tears streaming, he bit his lip.
"Sorry, everyone..."
Only now did the memories of those days resurface. When he'd found the heretics' church atop the mountain and fled down to the village like a fugitive.
There, he met a man with a severed hand.
"Has there always been a church on the mountain?"
"Yes—if you know anything, please..."
"Hmm... That was close."
"...!!!"
"Ah, I'm Archbishop of Oblivion, Yung."
"Archbishop...! We have to run...!"
BOOM!
"But, Brother, you have some intriguing memories?"
Led by the man who called himself the Archbishop of Oblivion, he'd been dragged to the church. The moment that hand touched his head, everything turned blinding white. It felt like memories of success and hope here were being crammed into his skull, scrambling his thoughts.
And that woman.
"Yung, Brother."
"Apostle."
"A new believer?"
"Yes."
"I see. Then this must be the Mihail you mentioned?"
"No."
"A pity. Well... shall we proselytize?"
That woman was a devil. Her sweet words intoxicated, coaxing out inner thoughts as if she knew every truth, naturally assimilating you here.
Here, her words were law and gospel. Yes, like twisting humans into mere tools.
"Now. Let us pray."
All emotions locked away. Rohan moved. A tool must serve its master's whim. If wielded as a pen, become a pen; as a rag, a rag. That's a tool's reason for being.
He drew the sword at his waist and charged Shartia.
"U.. u..s le..t's p..pra..y."
Elishea flashed a sinister smile.
"Brothers. Let us pray."
Crunch...!
"Oh..."
The man watching this scene rummaged in his pocket for a bag of snacks and munched away.
"Fascinating."
He sighed in admiration.
Ricardo. The possessor. The man who considered himself the handsomest in the world.
I nodded at the scene unfolding exactly like the novel, a pleasant smile on my face.
Rohan swung his sword; Mihail parried.
Clang!
Counterattacked.
Whoosh!
And Elishea in the back laughed.
Hohoho...
It was playing out just like in the novel—truly fascinating. Every time, it hit the same way.
"They've grown a lot. Yuria too—Mihail as well. The two of them could handle an archbishop now."
They were strong to begin with, but what was it? A newfound composure, maybe.
Clear the mind... Clarisma!!
Snap out of it!
No need to worry.
"They're doing great."
Reinforcements would arrive soon anyway. Looked like I could clock out early today.
This arc was just a brief glimpse of the apostle's face. A reminder of how formidable apostles truly were. No one died, thankfully. She wasn't your run-of-the-mill madwoman, after all.
The Apostle of Gentleness, 'Elishea,' lived solely for proselytizing, so meaningless deaths held no appeal for her. Her only flaw was serving the wrong god—but her character was at least admirable. Unlike Olaf.
Compared to the Apostle of Mercy 'Olaf,' she was moderately unhinged.
Their strengths were comparable; she was no pushover, if anything stronger in her way.
Elishea's power let her bend anything she laid eyes on to her will. An exceedingly tricky ability.
She never tormented with outright murder. She shattered minds instead. Ordinary willpower couldn't stand against her. She could reduce an awakened hero like Mihail to a vegetable.
Frankly, winning was impossible. For me, maybe. But anyway.
No need to overthink this episode. Once Shartia breaks free and shatters the ring's gem, Rowen shows up, Elishea retreats. End of story.
Put simply, it was a matter of the student council holding out.
The real question was...
Kyaaaaak!!
...whether they could last until reinforcements arrived.