Those Who Are Merciful
Those Who Are Merciful
{Then the people flocked to the prophet and asked.
O Prophet. By what sign shall we know that the Saint has come?
And the prophet answered,
You shall see many miracles and things beyond understanding, but by this above all you shall know he is the Saint.
He will stand and weep with those who bear the world's suffering.
He will stand alongside those wearied by heavy burdens.
Therefore, paint tears and make them your symbol.
For the Saint shall witness the pain and sorrow of the world and grieve alongside them, and he shall shed tears for the weak and the broken.
You shall call him the Merciful One.
Eleos (ἔλεος).}
- Scripture of Grace, Chapter 19, Verses 19-20 -
***
When the curse began to erupt.
The emperor summoned the Imperial Guard captain first.
"Activate all magic and miracles installed in the detached palace!! Now, at once!"
The moment the curse within Iomene's body burst forth, the entire empire would be annihilated.
No.
It would be the same no matter where on the continent one fled.
The only difference would be a matter of time. In the end, everyone would be infected by the curse, their souls destroyed, becoming beings neither alive nor dead.
Therefore, the detached palace had been prepared with numerous measures for the worst-case scenario.
And now, that worst-case scenario had arrived.
If the miracles and magic of the detached palace were cast, Iomene would die.
But there was no other choice.
If the curse was erupting to the point where it could be felt on the skin, it had to be considered that everything was already too late.
There was no longer any way to save Iomene.
Following the emperor's urgent command, the Imperial Guard captain took out the artifact he always carried in his chest pocket and hastily activated it.
Yet the sensation of the curse on his skin persisted.
There was no vibration of miracles and magic being triggered on a massive scale.
Something was wrong.
"Did it work properly?"
"Absolutely, Your Majesty! There is no problem with the artifact! But the miracles and magic drawn in the detached palace are not activating!"
"Damnation! Why now, of all times!! What are the priests and mages on duty doing?!"
As he vented his rage, the Imperial Guard captain's body flinched.
A black energy burrowed into his body like a snake and vanished.
But because he was an excellent knight, he began to circulate the mana within him, enduring the pain of his soul being gnawed away.
"Your Majesty. You must hurry. There is no telling when you might fall to the curse as well. You must abandon me and flee quickly."
The emperor could no longer delay after hearing that.
Together with the empress, who had likewise awakened in horror from the curse, he headed toward Almene's room.
And there, the couple witnessed a horrific sight.
Almene was foaming at the mouth and convulsing.
As if trying to block the transmission of Iomene's encroaching curse, the magic circle inscribed on her left eye was pulsing violently.
But it was only a stopgap measure. It was only a matter of time before she was ruined.
"Almene!!"
The emperor personally lifted her into his arms, and the three family members began to flee. The Imperial Guards and court mages who had not yet been infected by the curse began to escort them with utmost vigilance.
As he fled, the emperor wept.
The worst possible outcome had ultimately come to pass.
They had mobilized every means at their disposal to prevent exactly this worst case, and yet they had failed.
He would be recorded in history forever as the emperor who ruined the empire.
No.
Even that would only be a story for as long as humanity still existed.
Because in the end, no one would be able to escape this curse.
"O gods."
The emperor squeezed his eyes shut.
How could things have come to this?
What great wrong had he possibly committed?
He was no tyrant.
On the contrary, he was a ruler who had led the empire's revival.
Like any ruler, blood had stained his hands, but that blood was only shed in the course of fighting against the evil god worshippers and demon cultists who had rampaged to overthrow the empire.
He had sparked the industrial revolution and was the very person responsible for countless technological advancements.
But at the same time, it was also true that countless citizens of the empire had starved, suffered, and died as factory workers, as the impoverished.
Moreover, he was the one who caused the evil god worshippers and demon cultists to move even more aggressively, seeking vengeance for their slain comrades.
Was that his sin?
Was that why the gods of the Pantheon had abandoned him?
It was agonizing.
The fact that the long-enduring empire would collapse because of his blunders.
The fact that the daughter he had tried desperately to save, driven by his own selfish desire, had only suffered and was now gone forever.
But no matter how angry he became, no matter how much he blamed himself, there was nothing he could do but flee.
At the end of a secret passage, they boarded a pre-arranged limousine and raced out of the imperial palace.
In the distance, he could see Iomene, her black wings spread, floating in the sky brightened by the morning sunlight.
Through the car's window, the emperor and empress gazed in despair at the sight of their daughter drifting into the void.
In the end, no one could save anyone.
Not the empire.
Not Iomene.
Not Almene.
It was a moment when a heavy sense of guilt and frustration crushed their hearts, making them feel as if they could not even breathe properly.
Then, someone suddenly appeared beside Iomene.
Familiar white robes.
It was Saint Amael.
"Stop!!"
The emperor issued the command.
At his words, the driver hesitated.
"Your Majesty! We must not stop here!! We must head to the safe house!"
"The moment that curse spreads, it won't matter whether we are in a safe house or the imperial palace. Stop the car."
The car finally came to a halt as ordered.
Holding Princess Almene, the emperor stepped out of the vehicle.
The empress also stepped outside, as if mesmerized.
The driver did, too.
The Royal Guard Knights and court mages who had boarded the limousine to protect the emperor and empress did, too.
Even the citizens who had been trying to flee the curse did.
At some point, everyone was staring at the saint and Iomene battling in the sky, now filled with the brightening morning sunlight.
As if under a spell, everyone quietly looked up.
They looked upon the saint and the Fragment of the Evil God.
"O Saint. Deliver us."
Someone sobbed and murmured quietly.
But because everything was so silent, everyone could hear that voice.
Once one began to speak, a second began.
"O Saint! O Chosen of Grace!"
"O Healing Saint!"
"O Saint Amael!"
"Deliver us! Deliver us!"
And before they knew it, everyone was crying out the saint's name.
The emperor and empress were no different.
Everyone was cheering for the saint.
"Please."
The emperor, too, was praying.
He was praying with tears streaming down his face.
Holding the convulsing and trembling Almene, who was still foaming at the mouth, the emperor prayed with a desperation that could not be surpassed.
"Please grant a miracle. Grant us a miracle."
At a moment when every heart and mind were united in that single prayer.
A light more brilliant than the rising sun burst forth from the saint's body.
It was so dazzling that everyone closed their eyes.
And when they opened them again.
They could see the most beautiful lights falling from the sky to the earth.
One by one, the lights descended upon the bodies of the people.
Those who had been crying out in agony from the curse fell silent and rose from where they lay. Those who had collapsed in terror looked up at the sky, awash in wonder and rapture.
"A miracle!! A miracle has been granted!!"
"Long live Saint Amael!"
"Long live Lilia of Grace!"
Just as the cheers of the citizens began to thunder across the capital.
The emperor and empress were running as if mad.
What had happened to Iomene?
Anxiety and hope.
Desperation and anguish intertwined as the ruler of the empire ran and ran, returning inside the imperial palace.
"I-I'm healed!"
"My body is healed!"
"Heavens, how...!......"
Passing the countless astonished servants and the knights of the Imperial Guard, the emperor arrived at the detached palace where Iomene had been.
And then he was able to witness it.
The saint, who had been in the sky, stepping down through the air with the black-winged princess, descending to the ground.
After landing, the saint, tears streaming down his face, placed his hand upon the princess's head and performed a miracle of healing.
The grotesque black wings that had sprouted from her back began to slowly vanish.
The bruises that had covered her entire body.
The wounds.
All of them disappeared.
The beautiful lights were still slowly descending from the sky to the earth.
And amid those lights, two descended carefully, alighting upon the bodies of Almene and Iomene.
At that moment, both twin princesses simultaneously opened their eyes.
"Father?"
Almene murmured quietly as she stirred in the emperor's arms.
The emperor held his daughter tightly.
"The pain that used to come from Iomene... I can't feel it anymore. How... how did this happen?"
The emperor and empress gave no answer.
Almene no longer looked for an answer either.
She looked in the direction her father and mother were staring.
Princess Iomene, who had been in the weeping saint's embrace, slowly raised her body.
Worn-out clothes.
Because the wings had sprouted, her back was fully exposed.
But no one faulted the princess's attire.
The priests and holy knights guarding the detached palace.
The Royal Guard Knights.
The mages and witches, the numerous maids and butlers.
Not one of them could breathe as they gazed at Princess Iomene.
Iomene carefully separated herself from the saint and set her feet on the ground.
Staggering, she cautiously found her balance.
And then she looked at her father and mother.
At Almene.
"D...addy?"
Iomene spoke in a faint voice.
Though her speech was clumsy, it was a clear and pure voice that everyone could understand.
"Mommy? Almene?"
It was not a voice that screamed like a beast.
It was still clumsy and halting, but it was unmistakably.
A human voice.
With that very voice the emperor and empress had dreamed of for so long, Iomene spoke.
The empress reached out her arms toward Iomene.
Iomene moved slowly and stepped into her mother's embrace.
The empress, who had been blankly staring at the sky, suddenly began to weep.
"My daughter. My daughter Iomene."
"M...ommy."
"O gods. Thank you. Thank you."
The empress embraced Iomene as if she might crush her.
Princess Almene and the emperor also cautiously approached and held Iomene.
Sobbing.
The family of four poured out emotions so deep they could find no words, clinging to each other and wailing.
They wept in grief for the nineteen lost years. They wept in sorrow for the pain Iomene must have suffered. They wept in guilt as parents who had effectively tortured their daughter.
Everyone around them watched the scene.
The priests, the court mages, the knights of the Imperial Guard, and all the servants watched it.
It was a sight of the emperor no one had ever seen before, but no one was surprised.
For they, too, had been saved.
The brilliant rays of the morning sun were falling upon the garden of the detached palace, more sacred than could ever be possible.
The emperor, the empress, and everyone gathered in the garden turned their gazes toward the sunlight.
A halo.
A halo of such majestic and sacred brilliance it was blinding to behold was surrounding the saint.
Among those silently witnessing the scene, one priest unknowingly sank to his knees on the spot and murmured.
"The Merciful One. Eleos."
At those words, everyone began to repeat them before they knew it.
"Eleos."
"He who sheds tears for the weak and the broken."
The emperor, weeping, murmured the same.
"Savior. Eleos."
As if enchanted, everyone began to chant.
"Savior! Eleos!"
"Savior! Eleos!"
They began to shout the rallying cry.
Savior Eleos.
Amid the fervent shouts, the saint closed his opened eyes.
The tears flowing from his eyes grew heavier.
In a majestic and beautiful landscape that no painter, no matter how masterful, could ever hope to capture as a scene of such divinity, he wept soundlessly.
As if comforting the world itself.
He wept.
Everyone beheld hope and salvation in that sight.
"Savior! Eleos!"
"Eleos!!"
"Eleos!!"
Now, there was no one weeping in sorrow.
Everyone was smiling.
Tears of overwhelming emotion and laughter filled the garden of the detached palace.
Only one person was weeping.
It was only Saint Amael, the Healing Saint.