Chapter 209: Am I the Saint?-2
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 209: Am I the Saint?-2
Recalling her conversation with the Saint, Maria sat on the edge of her bed and gazed out the small window of her room.
The sound of rain lashing against the ground and the wind whipping through the trees seeped through the cracks of the window frame.
Maria shivered at the bleak chill for a moment before deciding to soothe the lingering unease in her heart.
Her feet touched the floor.
She wanted to see the Saint.
Maria’s thought was simple and firm.
She didn't know what had fanned the flames of this impulse, but she changed her clothes without hesitation.
Dressed in her formal habit, she left her room, concocting a pretext about needing to consult him regarding Antonio.
At an hour when everyone else was asleep, she walked down the empty corridor.
—Rumble, crash!
A flash of light flickered briefly, followed by a sudden peal of thunder.
Without looking startled, Maria watched the outside world through the corridor window.
The fierce downpour showed no signs of losing its momentum as time passed.
After walking for a few minutes, she arrived at the Saint’s room.
As was her custom, she knocked and listened for any sign of presence inside.
Just like last time, there was no answer.
The blonde nun took a deep breath and carefully pushed the door open.
With the faint creak of hinges, the door swung wide.
In the darkened room, Maria’s eyes, now adjusted to the gloom, fell upon an empty bed.
"Saint..."
Where could he have gone again? Maria looked out the window.
*
Perhaps drowned out by the rain, there was no response from inside despite the knocking.
Or perhaps they were pretending not to hear...
The moment a family member is shackled with the brand of blasphemy, that household is set on a straight path to the abyss.
Antonio’s family in Albainin Village consisted of a father, a mother, and Antonio himself.
Yes. It had been a family.
As soon as the news broke that Antonio had been dismissed for blasphemy, stones began flying at his house every single day.
No one wanted to associate with a family that had incurred the Saint’s wrath.
Even with money, they couldn't buy goods; even with strong bodies, they couldn't find work.
Like land submerged by a flood, Antonio’s family gradually lost any place to stand in the village.
And being swept away by the flood happened in an instant.
His father, desperate for a livelihood, was forced to leave the village to find work, taking on the jobs everyone else shunned.
Working as a porter for a merchant caravan was one such avoided task, due to the inherent dangers of the road.
A bandit’s blade does not care how tragic or unfair the life of the one it cuts may be.
With a single swing of a sword, Antonio’s father left this world.
Upon receiving the body, half-eaten by wild dogs, Antonio wailed in grief.
His mother wanted to burst into tears right then and there, but she grit her teeth for her son’s sake.
And so, Antonio’s family had to leave Albainin Village.
Staying meant certain death.
The place his mother chose was Solchio.
She felt they had to wait there, hoping that if the Saint ever graced the village with his presence, he might take pity on them and grant mercy.
—Thump, thump.
He knocked on the door a little harder. Finally, a sound came from within.
The creaking of floorboards drew closer, and the Saint sensed the door was about to open.
"Wh-who is it? In this weather..."
Through the tiny crack of the slightly opened door, a woman’s voice drifted out.
The Saint who made you like this has come.
The Saint swallowed the words that threatened to burst from his throat.
"I asked who you are!"
At the trembling, delicate voice, the Saint snapped out of his sea of thoughts.
"...I am from the Order."
The words were carefully chosen after a long silence.
As soon as he spoke, he heard a sharp intake of breath from inside, and the door swung wide.
The Saint had to step back.
"Ah... You’ve come. To absolve our sins... The Order has shown mercy..."
The haggard woman muttered incoherently as she ushered the Saint inside.
There was not a hint of suspicion or wariness in her.
Had she believed his words? Or had she seen the religious symbol embroidered on his chest?
Or perhaps, she had simply been waiting for anyone to save them...
The Saint stepped into a house narrower than his own room.
A house that was a collection of every kind of shabbiness in the world, with rotting wooden floors and mold blooming on the wallpaper.
As he entered, a musty stench stung his nose.
The Saint frowned reflexively, then caught himself, startled by his own reaction.
"P-please, sit here first."
The woman hurriedly guided him to a chair and soon brought over some warm water.
Steam rose softly from the cup.
"I... I don't have any tea leaves..."
She seemed genuinely distressed that this was the best hospitality she could offer.
The Saint lifted the cup and drank the water.
Vitality returned to his body, which had grown cold on the way here.
"I was feeling quite chilled, so thank you."
"May I ask... who from the Order you..."
"Is Antonio sleeping now?"
The Saint cut her off.
"Ah, he’s not exactly sleeping, but..."
The woman looked troubled at the Saint’s question. Her gaze drifted toward the only room in the house.
"If it’s not an intrusion... may I see him?"
"That... yes... of course."
Though she hesitated for a moment, the mother granted permission.
The Saint bowed his head to express his gratitude, and the mother seemed at a loss, overwhelmed by such an undeserved gesture.
Crossing the creaking floor, he opened the door to find a child gasping for breath on a shabby bed.
"He’s bedridden with a fever..."
The mother asked for his understanding. In that state, a normal conversation would be impossible.
The Saint felt a tightening in his chest.
"......"
What should he say? No, it would be better to keep his mouth shut.
So the Saint thought.
Just then, the child moved.
"...Sain...t?"
It was a voice nearly buried by the sound of the rain.
Realizing the child’s thin eyes were looking at him, the Saint’s hands began to tremble.
He slowly raised his hand and unwound the black cloth that had been concealing his face.
"...It’s... the Saint..."
A smile flickered across the exhausted child’s face.
"The Saint? ...The Saint has come! Please forgive me for not recognizing you, Holy One!"
The woman collapsed onto the floor right then and there.
"Saint, please have pity on us. I am so sorry! Please forgive the sin my child committed."
Clutching the rotting floorboards with her hands, the mother clung to his feet.
"Saint, please have pity on us."
Kissing his feet, the woman begged and begged again.
—Rumble, crash!
Thunder roared.
The Saint’s head spun. Ignoring the woman clinging to his feet, he slowly approached the child.
"Antonio. ...I’ve come to keep my promise."
His throat felt tight, and his voice wouldn't come out properly.
"From... the Book of Emilio..."
Despite the Saint’s strained voice, Antonio smiled.
Fragments of a promise spilled from the twelve-year-old boy’s lips.
"'Those who follow the path of light must guard themselves.' ...That was what you asked me about."
The Saint placed his hand on Antonio’s forehead, which felt like a ball of fire.
"...Yes."
Feeling the Saint’s touch, Antonio closed his struggling eyes and answered.
"That means..."
The Saint recalled the Bible study he had done with Maria.
[Those who follow the path of light must guard themselves. ...I believe this means one must always maintain proper conduct and constantly check oneself to ensure they do not stray from the path of light.]
That was what Maria had said.
The Saint placed the exact words Maria had delivered on the tip of his tongue.
But then, he swallowed them back down.
The Saint silently stroked the child’s forehead.
The searing heat, as if the boy might melt, burned the Saint’s hand.
"It means... you must guard against becoming a fool who blindly follows injustice because you are bound by doctrine and scripture."
A single tear rolled down the Saint’s cheek.
Antonio’s brow furrowed slightly.
"That sounds... too difficult... Saint."
At that complaining tone, the Saint gave a sorrowful laugh.
"You don't have to understand it right away. But, will you tell me when you realize it later? Promise me."
"Yes. I promise."
The child’s face broke into a faint grin. The Saint’s tears continued to fall.
Antonio soon fell into a deep sleep.
It seemed he had exhausted what little strength he had scraped together just to greet the Saint.
After looking down worriedly at the child’s rhythmic breathing, the Saint turned to the mother.
"I am sorry for making you go through such hardship."
It wasn't something he had directly caused. However, it was something done in the Saint’s name.
He felt he had to apologize.
"No, not at all. It is because we were lacking..."
At the Saint’s apology, the woman bowed her head repeatedly.
The Saint looked at her. What on earth made her so subservient?
The person who had ruined her family was standing right in front of her.
If it were him, he would have sought revenge with every ounce of strength he possessed.
Yet the woman was begging instead. She was groveling, asking for her sins to be forgiven.
"What is faith, truly?"
He murmured in a voice that couldn't be heard.
He fumbled through his pockets. It was the coin purse he had grabbed in a hurry before leaving his room.
It wasn't a large amount, but it would be enough to call a doctor.
With a soft thud, he handed over the purse, and the woman slowly looked up at him.
"Use this money. Call a doctor, and give the child medicine and food. And..."
"I hereby absolve you of your sins."
At the Saint’s words, the woman wailed loudly and slumped to the floor.
*
Maria did not return to her room.
She sat in a chair, staring blankly at the window.
Whenever the trees swayed in the wind, her heart leaped, wondering if the Saint had returned.
Hours passed like this.
A tree branch swayed violently.
Maria sprang up from her seat.
Soon, the window opened, and a black silhouette entered the room.
Dripping water onto the floor, the man in black scanned the room.
Then, he looked at the woman facing him.
"Maria."
He called her name in a voice that had sunk to the depths.
"I came to your room to discuss Antonio... but you weren't here."
She offered the excuse she had prepared, and the Saint began to strip off his clothes without a word.
Clothes soaked with rain and tears fell to the floor, revealing the Saint’s pale, naked form.
Maria blushed at the sudden nudity.
He dried himself with a dry cloth that had been hanging on the chair.
"I went to see Antonio."
"I... I see."
Maria answered, unable to take her eyes off the Saint’s back.
"I have forgiven his sin of blasphemy."
It was a simple report.
"As expected of our merciful Saint. To go all that way even on a night like this just to absolve Antonio’s sin. By your mercy, peace will return to Antonio’s home."
Maria clasped her hands together and beamed.
"Mercy?"
The Saint’s question was laced with thorns.
"You call it mercy?"
His tone was different from usual. Maria blinked at the change.
"Am I a Saint? Tell me, Sister Maria."
"Well... because you are the Saint..."
"WHERE DO YOU SEE IT?! WHY ON EARTH DO YOU THINK I AM A SAINT?!"
The man screamed as if in agony.
Kang In-ho did.