Chapter 392: Karmic Fire (Part 2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 392: Karmic Fire (Part 2)
Emiel Cathedral, the Confessional.
The Saintess, having just concluded her prayers to the Goddess, rose with grace. She pushed open the door, preparing to depart.
However, as the candlelight held by the Great Nun outside illuminated her flawless, holy face, the perfectly composed smile on her lips suddenly froze for a fleeting moment.
"Is something the matter, Your Holiness?" Great Nun Lin asked.
"A child... has gone."
The smile faded, replaced by an irrepressible sorrow.
"A child..."
Lin hesitated for a moment before realizing the Saintess was referring to those tender, young candidates.
So, a sacrifice has finally occurred?
The candlelight flickered in her palms as Lin bowed respectfully. "Please, Your Holiness, do not grieve too deeply. A holy soul will eventually return to the embrace of the Goddess."
"Rest easy, Lin. I am not so fragile. I have long been prepared for such things."
The Saintess turned her wrist, and a crystal appeared in her palm. The once crystal-clear gem was now riddled with cracks, looking as though it might shatter at any second.
"So it was... Freya?"
Looking at the crystal, the image of that girl—whose poise and smile were so strikingly similar to her own—surfaced in the Saintess's mind.
To outsiders, the girl’s temperament seemed to be carved from the same mold as the Saintess herself. It was for this reason that many had high hopes for her before the ceremony began, believing she was the most likely candidate to become the next Saintess.
Regrettably, she was the first to depart.
"Freya... I recall she was the child Your Holiness was somewhat fond of... or rather, disliked?"
Lin remembered that when Freya first arrived at the Holy City, the Saintess had rejected the proposal to go out and receive her, explicitly expressing her distaste for the girl.
"...It wasn't that I 'somewhat' disliked her," the Saintess said.
"She was the one I disliked most. Out of all the children, I disliked her the most."
"Your Holiness?"
Even the habitually stoic Lin couldn't help but be stunned. She hadn't expected the Saintess to say such a thing at the very moment the girl had returned to the Goddess's embrace.
It was so blunt, so ill-timed.
But the Saintess simply looked into Lin's eyes and continued, "Do you know why I disliked her most of all?"
"My apologies. I cannot peer into your heart, Your Holiness, so I do not know."
"Because..."
In the glow of the candlelight, the Saintess saw her own reflection in Lin's pupils.
The holy, elegant, composed, and gentle version of herself—the Saintess.
"When a fake like me, hidden behind a mask, encounters the real thing, it’s only natural to feel ashamed, isn't it?" The Saintess gave a self-mocking smile.
"...In other words, Your Holiness feels that Miss Freya was the one most qualified to become the Saintess?" Lin asked in astonishment.
"No, quite the opposite. In my eyes, she was just like Liya—neither of them was suited for it."
"Why?"
Lin felt she could no longer keep up with the Saintess's train of thought.
"Because..."
The Saintess turned her head, gazing through the window at the world shrouded in the veil of night.
"They were both far too gentle..."
She raised her hand as if trying to chase the dim, ethereal starlight.
"And gentle people find it very difficult to look directly into the darkness of this world..."
*
"Miss... Freya..."
After witnessing everything that had transpired on the other side through the images in the mirror, a heavy, suffocating emotion spread between Liya and Muen.
"Miss Freya actually... did such a thing."
Liya’s eyes were rimmed with red. Anyone who saw those images would inevitably feel a surge of emotion and sympathy for the girl who had always smiled, always been gentle, and had forever chased after the one she loved.
"So I really... only got half of it right?"
Muen forced a bitter smile, his chest feeling as though a massive boulder were pressing down on it, making it hard to breathe.
Freya’s abnormalities had long led him to various speculations.
But he hadn't expected the truth to be the one he had considered the least likely—the third scenario.
Freya was a good person.
A good person through and through.
She had never worshipped an Evil God, nor had she ever truly harmed anyone.
She was simply a young woman in pursuit of love.
It wasn't a corrupted love, nor a twisted love.
It was like the Golden Orchids she adored—elegant, delicate, yet fragrant, resilient, and true.
That kind of love could not be controlled by the Love God.
"Perhaps Miss Freya never intended to truly trade with the Love God," Liya said softly, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes as she recalled the scenes that had just unfolded.
"She was just trying to grasp at a final straw, only to choose the most tragically beautiful and resolute path the moment she discovered that straw was nothing but a lie."
Freya, who had extracted her own soul at the very beginning and stored it in a lifeless object like a prisoner, couldn't have failed to foresee this end.
Yet she had still gone forward without looking back.
"Alright."
Muen patted Liya’s shoulder, offering comfort. "At least her soul and his can truly be together forever now, without being defiled by an Evil God, right?"
"Yes."
"Then we shouldn't be sad anymore. Now is not the time for grief."
Muen stood up and turned toward the pitch-black cavern.
"Freya has already shown us where we need to go. We don't need to be lost anymore. Let's go."
"Okay."
Liya sniffled, nodding firmly as she grabbed the hand Muen extended to her.
Muen pulled Liya up, but she suddenly realized that the originally gentle force had abruptly intensified.
She was pulled uncontrollably toward Muen, crashing into his embrace.
"Eh? Muen?"
"Hold on tight!"
Muen’s voice was heavy. He pulled Liya tightly into his arms, and in an instant, the world spun. A violent wind erupted, and everything before their eyes turned into a blur of leaping light and shadow.
Liya instinctively hugged Muen back. She felt the scorching heat behind him and... the violent surge of mana nearby.
A searing firelight illuminated the sky, outshining the moonlight. Within that high temperature—capable of turning steel to liquid—was a cold, murderous intent.
The platform where the two had been standing was blown to smithereens in an instant. Amidst the swirling dust, Muen, who had dodged the sneak attack at the very last second and was now looking a bit disheveled, clung to the rock wall. His gaze was grim as he stared into the distance.
"As I thought, Freya knew we were watching her all along. Some of her words were meant for us."
Atop a hill made of actual soil and stone—unlike the twisted flesh seen elsewhere—countless flowers were blooming one after another.
They weren't Golden Orchids, but a vast variety of unnamed, multicolored, and extremely vibrant flowers.
They spread out like a sea of blossoms.
"You must be the second hidden evil believer," Muen said in a low voice.
On the nearly vertical wall of flowers, a figure stood upright, walking forward gracefully as if completely ignoring the laws of gravity.
Her body was covered in vibrant flowers, her movements eerie. Amidst the blooming petals, only half of a beautiful, striking face was visible.
Fei'er.
"No..."
Muen suddenly closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his chest heaving with effort.
When he opened his eyes again, his gaze bypassed Fei'er entirely, landing on the figure behind her.
"The real evil believer is you..."
Muen stared at that figure, his voice cold as he spoke each word:
"Ellag!"