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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“Saintess, you were here.”
“Ah?! Jenison, you’re still here—Aah!”
Finding the Saintess wasn’t difficult. The status window showed her location. The delay was due to the sheer amount of trash I had to dispose of along the way.
After running around, cleaning up the mess, I finally found her, only to be greeted by a scream.
“…What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?! Look at all that blood on you!”
“Ah…”
So that’s why people had been staring at me. A minor covered in blood wasn’t exactly a common sight.
“Priest Finn! Can you heal this person?”
“Hmm? Who—Gasp! Ah, yes, right away!”
The priest must have thought my condition was serious. He rushed over and began channeling holy power into me.
But he quickly stopped, his expression tense, and pulled the Saintess back.
“Huh? Is he healed already?”
“Saintess, this man has no injuries other than a few minor scratches.”
“…What?”
“All that blood…”
The Saintess whipped her head around, staring at me. I just shrugged nonchalantly.
The surrounding priests and knights tensed, their suspicion growing. It took a considerable amount of time to convince them. My explanation was hard to believe.
A child, not even an adult, had killed several grown men? All with surprise attacks?
It sounded improbable, but the Saintess vouched for me, and eventually, they lowered their guard.
As the tension eased, the Saintess finally asked why I was here.
“Saintess, let’s get straight to the point. We need to leave.”
“…Didn’t I tell you earlier? I have no intention of running—”
“That was when you could actually help. Right now, the only thing you’re good for is running errands, aren’t you?”
“…”
“I know you can’t use your holy power. I don’t know why, but I can’t feel that disgusting… I mean, that energy anymore.”
“…”
“You can’t help anyone, you can’t accomplish anything. All you can do is ask someone else for help, right?”
She lowered her head, implicitly agreeing.
She understood. I grabbed her wrist, intending to drag her out of here.
But she wouldn’t budge.
“Help me…”
“…?”
“You’re right. I’m useless right now. Pathetic, stupid, foolish. So I have no choice but to ask for help…”
“Ha, so if you know that—”
“There’s no time!”
“…”
Tears welled up in her eyes again. The surrounding nuns gently wiped them away.
She dismissed the priests and looked at me, her eyes red, her voice thick with emotion.
I listened patiently.
A massive explosion had occurred in the grand cathedral, and she feared the Pope had been caught in the blast.
Her voice, already beautiful, was filled with such raw emotion that her plea was incredibly persuasive. But after hearing her story, I refused.
There was no guarantee the Pope had survived such an explosion. And my primary objective was to rescue the Saintess.
But she kept pleading.
I didn’t understand. There were other knights here.
“If that’s the case, ask the other knights—”
“Unfortunately… we cannot.”
A knight, his bearing noble despite the chaos, stepped forward, interrupting my attempt to persuade her.
“The Pope’s final order… was to save as many people as possible. We all respect His Holiness more than anyone, but… we cannot abandon all these people to rush to his side… So, I ask you as well, Saint. Please… can you save the Pope…? We beg you.”
“””We beg you!! Saint!!”””
“…May I ask one question?”
I was curious. Why were they placing their hopes on me, a mere child? Why did they trust me enough to send me to the Pope?
Why were they all bowing their heads, their faith in me seemingly absolute?
The knight answered my unspoken question, his response so obvious that I couldn’t help but scoff inwardly.
But I refused again. Getting swept up in sentimentality would only lead to trouble. I wouldn’t be a fool again—
≪ Quest Generated! ≫
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The Pope’s first reaction upon seeing him was pure admiration.
The attack hadn’t been weak or easily deflected. The proof was the hole blasted through the wall behind him.
Not only that, but the remaining surface of the wall sizzled and melted, as if splashed with acid.
And the cathedral walls were built from “Holy Stone,” renowned for its durability and magic resistance.
Which meant the attack he’d just witnessed could melt even Holy Stone, possessing immense power.
Yet, this man had deflected it. Beautifully, perfectly. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Even though a single misstep could have melted his dagger, his hand, his entire arm.
He replayed the man’s actions in his mind, doubting what he’d just seen.
He hadn’t met the spearhead-on with the edge of his blade. The force and surface area would have been insufficient; the spear would have pierced through.
He hadn’t deflected it with the flat of the blade either. Unless his dagger was made of mithril, it would have shattered instantly.
The dagger itself was strangely curved, with small grooves etched into its spine.
He’d somehow caught the spear tip in one of those grooves and twisted his wrist.
A minuscule movement, a fraction of a second, minimal force.
And the spear had veered off course.
It had been close, incredibly close. Any longer, and his dagger and arm would have melted.
He’d never seen such swordsmanship. It wasn’t the disciplined style of the paladins or other knights.
Their techniques were structured, bound by rules, emphasizing honor and grace. This man’s movements were the opposite.
Focused solely on neutralizing the opponent, deflecting attacks, creating openings. Movements designed purely for killing, for survival.
The man’s ragged breathing broke the silence, punctuated by gasps of awe from the onlookers.
He seemed dissatisfied, annoyed that deflecting a single attack had exhausted him. But the others were stunned.
“W-What…”
“…It’s been a long time since I’ve been genuinely surprised.”
Antonio’s jaw hung open, his hand hovering over his broken nose. Even the stoic Hercal’s eyes were wide with disbelief.
Greed, the one who’d launched the attack, reacted differently.
A wide, predatory grin spread across his face, his jagged teeth gleaming. Tears of joy welled up in his eyes.
As if he’d finally found someone he’d been searching for, for a very long time.
“Ah, I’ve finally found you. My Moon.”
“…?”
“At long last… the opportunity has arrived…”
Jenison frowned, confused by Greed’s reaction. He hadn’t expected joy, especially after his attack had failed to kill the Pope.
The Pope, finally recovering his senses, spoke.
“Y-You! Why are you here?!”
“…”
“It’s dangerous here! Leave, quickly…!”
They were outnumbered, facing powerful opponents who had pushed even him, the Pope, to his limits. And he didn’t know how much strength this newcomer had left.
He was grateful for the intervention, but he wouldn’t send a promising young man to his death. Not someone he personally liked.
Even if he died, he’d take at least one of these black-robed bastards with him. He pushed himself up, ignoring the pain in his knees.
Suddenly, he was lifted off the ground.
“Y-You! What are you—”
“Shut up. Just focus on staying alive for now…”
Jenison, who’d been facing Greed, had suddenly rushed over, slung the Pope over his shoulder, and started running.
“H-Hey! Wait…!”
“…Annoying.”
Antonio and Hercal, who’d expected a final showdown between the Pope and Greed, were caught completely off guard.
They hesitated for a moment, and the gap between them widened. Jenison wasn’t slow; he thought he could escape.
But his escape was cut short by a figure blocking his path.
“Where are you rushing off to? I believe we still have much to discuss.”
“…”
Greed, too, had been momentarily surprised. But only for a moment. He’d quickly assessed the situation and intercepted Jenison with ease.
Blocked, Jenison’s mind raced. This man… he’d acted as if he’d been looking for him from the start. How could he convince him to let them go?
But his thoughts were interrupted.
“How many times has it been? Owner of the Divine Body?”
“…?”
He didn’t understand the words Greed spoke aloud, but he understood the silent words formed by his lips.
Life.
He’d definitely said life.
“…Who the fuck are you?”
“Haha, finally willing to talk, are we?”
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