Chapter 90

Volb knelt before the firmly closed door and continued offering prayers.

“O God, look down upon us.”

He had seen pitch-black darkness.

It was a revelation. God’s will to prepare for the great end soon to come.

Moreover, the Saint had even heard god’s voice.

Ah, what should they do?

Trials that the unprepared could not endure.

It was far too terrible.

“What can we do?”

The great holy knight who’d inherited Necim’s steel rod, Romen, knelt beside him and asked.

“We cannot know yet. The Saint must be desperately seeking answers right now.”

“If god simply tells us to endure……”

“Then we will merely endure.”

“It’s a harsh matter.”

“Adversity is always like that.”

The messenger who’d come to convey god’s word, Quilbion. He too must be closely related to the approaching calamity.

God did not act without reason.

The existence called Quilbion must hold the great reason that humans couldn’t fathom.

“Perhaps we must receive a new apostle of god.”

“You speak of Sir Quilbion.”

Sir.

It seemed Holy Knight Romen had also felt something.

Volb looked at Romen.

“We dare not gauge, but still I’ll ask. In your eyes, what kind of person was Quilbion?”

Romen answered with a grave expression.

“He was a pure person. An ordinary person would have become arrogant the moment they received god’s word, or tried to use it, but he didn’t do that.”

“Correct.”

“He came honestly and conveyed god’s voice to the Saint for the sake of all people. A person without greed. A true apostle always mentioned in scripture.”

“That’s right. You had the same thoughts as me.”

“The apostle who sought the Saint.”

Romen bowed his head with an “Ah” of admiration.

Volb also lifted both hands toward the sky while lowering his head.

“God doesn’t only give calamity. God always gives light together. It’s a turbid world. A world rife with problems. God will erase the problems with calamity and establish a new world with light.”

“May Thorgan look down upon us.”

It was then.

The prayer room door slowly opened.

The Saint with half-opened eyes stood at the door. Quilbion waited one step behind as if assisting the Saint.

“What did god say?”

Volb asked while looking at the Saint’s instep.

“He said to advance.”

It was an ambiguous statement. But it was fine. The Saint’s voice held certainty.

Even if ordinary people couldn’t understand god’s word, the Saint could understand it. Because she’d received god’s grace.

“I will survey the world together with this person.”

This person.

Volb raised his head. The Saint turned her body slightly and pointed at Quilbion.

Ah, so it was like that after all.

“God’s apostle has come.”

“……”

The Saint said nothing. Her expression looked slightly bad. No, she seemed flustered.

“Apostle. I don’t deserve to be called by such an excessive name.”

Quilbion stepped forward and spoke.

Volb was impressed. He could feel the spirit. A human’s aura couldn’t change in such a short time.

God’s authority had been exercised.

He looked at Romen.

“God has blessed you. I can tell just by looking.”

Romen was deeply moved. His cold eyes became moist. Volb too had to make efforts to hide the excitement rising from his feet.

The Saint and god’s apostle.

If there were two saints guided by god, they would protect Sop’s holy ground even when calamity struck.

“I too heard a voice.”

Quilbion knelt on one knee while extending both hands. He grasped Volb and Romen’s hands respectively and continued speaking.

“Adversity is not to bring you down. Adversity is for your endless prosperity, so endure and overcome it.”

“O Thorgan.”

Volb grasped Quilbion’s hand strongly.

He was certainly god’s apostle.

It was proof of god’s promise to care for Sop.

“God believed in you two.”

“That person has always been watching us.”

Volb didn’t hold back the tears surging up. It was a blessed life.

“The Saint is tired. It seems she’s exhausted from continuously hearing that great person’s words.”

While listening to Quilbion’s words, Volb couldn’t help but lament his own insensitivity.

“Please rest. We’ll prepare.”

The Saint spoke.

“You don’t need to prepare separately. I can just offer prayers in my room.”

To offer prayers again when she must have exhausted all her holy power. Watching the Saint sacrifice herself made him feel only ashamed.

“Sir Quilbion. There are still things to discuss about the revelation, so please follow.”

“Understood.”

The Saint led the way and Quilbion followed behind.

Though the Saint’s quarters were a men-forbidden area, Volb didn’t care.

Quilbion following the Saint wasn’t a man but god’s apostle. It shouldn’t be interpreted from a vulgar perspective.

“I’ll give instructions to the knight order. To receive the new apostle of god.”

Romen too was watching the departing Saint and apostle with moved eyes.

“They probably won’t want generous treatment.”

“Yes.”

“Still, we must prepare. Their bodies are no longer only theirs. They’re flesh to substitute for the savior. We must assist them.”

“You speak rightly.”

After exchanging glances with Romen, Volb quickly moved to the cathedral’s main assembly.

He had to inform the high-ranking priests.

About the calamity.

And about the apostle.

*

The Saint who’d firmly closed the door let out a long “Phewww” sigh. Her stiff expression loosened slackly.

The Saint walked to the bed as if everything was bothersome and flopped down.

“If that appearance gets caught, things will go wrong. Sit properly.”

“Don’t worry. This is a place people can’t enter casually. It’s also a place I can’t leave casually. Uuugh!”

The Saint stretched while making bizarre sounds. Then she removed the outer garment wrapped around her body and the silver accessories hanging from her wrists and earlobes, throwing them onto the pillow.

“I feel like I can live now.”

After lying on the bed, she glanced around cautiously before sitting on the floor.

She seemed very lacking as a person. Really very.

Quilbion sat in a chair and pressed firmly between his brows.

“How is it? Don’t you hear any voices?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re not hiding it, right?”

“It’s true!”

The Saint made a tearful face while saying she felt wronged.

Sheryl had to open her eyes to end this unfunny play. Quilbion swept down his face before speaking.

“Let’s just think about escaping here for now.”

“Will those people really let me go? I tried hinting once before that I wanted to leave, and it was complete chaos then.”

“What happened?”

“All the high-ranking priests came and knelt before me. You can’t, it’s dangerous, you must be inside the holy ground. I canceled immediately. After that, I didn’t bring it up again. If I brought it up for no reason…… they would have tied me up tight.”

The Saint spoke while trembling all over.

“Looking at them, they seem to believe us. If we state our opinion strongly, they’ll let us out.”

“What should we say?”

“Their eyes rolled back at the word calamity, so let’s say it’s an inspection to prevent calamity for now.”

Quilbion recalled the holy knight who’d been dabbing at tears.

“That holy knight who was with the High Priest.”

“Ah, Sir Romen.”

“His name is Romen. What’s that person’s personality like?”

“He’s a scary person. He was there when they came to capture me too. He probably has a belief like ‘beat them first if they don’t listen,’ something like that.”

“Then he won’t let you go nicely. That type of human has oddly high loyalty. Under the pretext of protecting the Saint, he’ll definitely follow along.”

“Really? That won’t do. That person’s a monster. He can lift a horse and throw it, and he runs faster than horses.”

“There’s a monster sleeping inside you who can press down such a monster with one finger.”

The Saint looked down at her own body.

“You keep saying monster, monster, but is there really a monster inside me? The voice inside me is too gentle to be a monster.”

“If you can’t believe it, wake her up quickly. I have business with that bitch too.”

“Mr. Quilbion has such a rough mouth. Scary.”

“If you experienced what I went through, you’d become the same.”

“No. I won’t become like that.”

“Well, let’s say so.”

The Saint yawned slightly.

“Can I sleep a bit?”

“Sleep comes to you in this situation?”

“I couldn’t sleep a wink because of the tension. The sweet voice told me you’d come today. What kind of person you’d be, whether you could get me out, whether something would go wrong……”

Haaam—the Saint who yawned again glanced at Quilbion.

“Can I sleep?”

“Sleep. It’ll get busy after you wake up.”

The Saint crawled under the blanket and soon started snoring. She whined about being scared but slept well. Should he say her adaptability was amazing, or that she was insensitive?

Quilbion stood up from the chair and approached the bed. He looked down at the sleeping Saint while pulling out the steel needle.

He brought it close to her neck and whispered.

“If you’re playing around, open your eyes now.”

There was no reaction.

He clicked his tongue and turned around.

She definitely had consciousness but couldn’t take over the Saint’s body.

It seemed change would only come when he met another goblin that had infiltrated the crack.

If ‘that thing’ born together with Sheryl had come to their senses, they must be moving to find him.

Whether as the coachman or the apprentice, Sheryl had been nearby.

It couldn’t be coincidence. It must be the result of indescribable causality at work. The newly appeared goblin also had a high probability of being nearby.

It would be grateful if they came to the holy ground on their own feet, but could they arrive here breaking through the war fanatics crazed by god?

Sheryl had manifested sorcery even in the cracks, but her flesh had been far too weak. A goblin that died when stabbed with a knife.

Like Quilbion, there must be restrictions in the cracks. Probably the other goblin would be the same.

In the end, they had to leave the holy ground.

A journey to find a goblin that might rival god, taking along an immature saint who’d confess the truth if he didn’t comply with her request.

He was so excited that curses came pouring out.

“Let’s go comfortably, comfortably.”

Quilbion spoke while looking at the mirror placed in the Saint’s room.

The thirty-year-old man with sunken eyes reflected in the mirror sighed deeply.

Snore.

At the snoring sound, he turned around.

The Saint was tossing and turning, having thrown off the blanket.

A murderous impulse welled up, but he pressed it down and endured.

Open your eyes quickly. Damn goblin.

Quilbion collapsed onto the table.

His languid body was whispering.

To sleep a bit.

He felt he shouldn’t sleep, but his mind was already growing hazy.

This body was far too vulnerable to sleep.

Let’s just sleep briefly and wake up—Quilbion had that thought while closing his eyes completely.