The Gloomy Saintess Obsessively Clings to Death

A chilling yet comforting sensation blossomed across my body, emanating from my divine nature.

As expected, the authority could be used without any issues.

The only problem was that it took three days to recover.

‘Perhaps souls in need of guidance might have appeared over the course of three days.’

Calmly, I read the flow around me, searching for traces of souls.

However, it was astonishingly quiet.

It felt as if the passage of three days was a mere illusion.

‘Is it really this devoid of any soul’s presence?’

Since I had never experienced anything like this before,

I began to wonder if something was wrong with me.

I took out the vial containing a soul from the pocket dimension.

Even though the soul was sealed within the vial, its presence was vividly felt.

Thus, the issue wasn’t on my end.

‘…Should I expand the range further?’

Gently, I closed my eyes and extended my power, broadening the detection range.

After passing through an eerie void,

I detected a region shrouded in a thick, disturbing chill that sent shivers down my spine.

Involuntarily, my brows furrowed.

The chill was so concentrated it seemed ready to burst at any moment.

Why, how had this chill come to be trapped here?

As if blocked by an invisible barrier, the chill merely circled this spot.

It also seemed as though something in the center of the area was pulling the chill towards it.

‘Is the flow blocked? Or has it been sealed deliberately?’

Directing my strength towards the center to confirm.

Suddenly, an eerie sensation pierced through my thoughts.

Instinctively, I knew.

This was a threat.

And a rather intense one, strong enough to make my entire body shudder.

‘…What just happened?’

As I tried to suppress the heightened senses to attempt detection again—

The sound of a doorknob turning reached my ears.

“Mr. Death, are you resting in bed?”

The voice of the saint reached me, and immediately after, the door opened.

I made eye contact with the saint who entered carrying a teapot and teacup without even a moment to rest.

The saint paused for a brief moment,

then stared at me intently with a furrowed brow and slightly protruding lips.

“…Ah.”

“Why aren’t you lying down?”

There was no hiding the sadness in her significantly lowered eyebrows and slightly pouting lips.

At the sight of that, my mind went blank as to how to justify myself.

I flailed around awkwardly as I tried to come up with an excuse.

“It’s… well… maybe because you were lying down for too long? My back hurts….”

I subtly checked her reaction.

Her eyes instantly brightened with concern.

After placing the tray on the coffee table, the saint approached me restlessly.

“Is that so? Does it hurt a lot? What should we do? Medicine? Ointment? Or should I massage it for you?”

“…What?! No! Not necessary! I’m fine!”

I hastily waved my hands and shook my head.

However, the saint grew even more serious as she approached and sat beside me.

“Don’t just say you’re fine. Tell me properly where it hurts or if there’s any problem. Only then can I help you….”

“I’m really fine. It’s just a stiff back. Truly.”

The saint continued to look at me with suspicion,

as if silently questioning me with her eyes, “Really?”

Intimidated by the sharp gaze, I fidgeted before hastily gesturing towards the teapot.

“…My throat’s a bit dry.”

“I’ll bring it to you quickly. Wait a moment!”

“No! Please take your time!”

It seemed my words fell on deaf ears.

Watching the bustling back view of the saint, I worried if she might spill the tea.

At that moment, the saint backed away, shrinking her shoulder.

“Ouch, it’s hot!”

“Are you alright?!”

Startled, I tried to get up,

but I immediately relaxed upon seeing that the teapot and teacups the saint was holding were intact.

The saint tenderly rubbed her own fingers, muttering somewhat sheepishly.

“…Yeah, I’m fine. My fringe irritated my eyes and I accidentally poured some tea on my hand.”

“Did you get hurt? Let me see.”

I got up and examined the saint’s hands.

Thankfully, only her thumb was slightly reddened.

Still, I couldn’t overlook the fact that the root cause was right there.

“Saint, please.”

“Huh? Uh, why?”

I gently lifted the saint’s fringe with my hand.

Her golden eyes were vividly revealed right before me.

“Whoa!…”

“Indeed, this is much better.”

“…Ah, ugh.”

Was it the lighting, or did her eyes seem even more radiant compared to when I saw them last night?

They gleamed like a precious gem.

‘If they’re this beautiful, why does she hide them?’

Could it be because I stared too intently?

The saint’s face was growing redder by the second.

“…Um, um, um.”

“Ah.”

At the sight of her nearly teary eyes, I quickly let go.

The saint winced and immediately covered her eyes with her fringe again.

Her sight made me sigh involuntarily.

I scratched my head and cautiously inquired.

“Saint, why don’t you trim your fringe? It’s blocking your view and seems inconvenient in so many ways, doesn’t it?”

“That, well… lack of time to manage my hair….”

“Time?”

The saint slowly nodded,

then nervously twiddled her fingers while speaking.

“Yes. Initially, I just left it unattended because I didn’t have the time, but after a while, I found it rather nice.”

“Nice?”

“Uh… well, it oddly feels stabilizing.”

At her reply, I was momentarily stunned.

The explanation that covering her eyes brought a sense of stability was not easy to understand.

“What do you mean by stabilizing?”

“Just…”

The saint hesitated for a moment before quietly adding,

“I feel a bit overwhelmed by other people’s gazes.”

“Gaze… Ah.”

Upon hearing that, I finally understood.

The saint was exhausted from receiving gazes from people.

At first, it was the hopeful eyes looking to her healing abilities,

but now it had become condemning, resentful gazes that questioned her abilities.

Thinking about her having to face such gazes all the time, my heart grew heavy.

I respectfully bowed my head in apology.

“…I’m sorry. Not only today, but the other day too, for lifting your fringe without permission.”

“Aaah, no! It’s fine! And… and…”

The saint paused momentarily before shyly smiling and adding,

“That time it was dark, and this time I could finally see you clearly, which was good. Plus, it was convenient while eating.”

“Still, I sincerely apologize.”

“No. Please don’t apologize. It’s because of my inadequacy.”

Her final words sounded as if she were reproaching herself.

However, the deficiency wasn’t hers…

As I opened my mouth to say so, the saint extended a teacup to me.

“You said you were thirsty, quickly drink it.”

“…Ah, thank you. I’ll drink it well.”

I carefully took the teacup and took a sip.

It was an excellent tea with a fragrant aroma and a subtle sweetness perfectly blended.

“It tastes good, this.”

“I’m glad it suits your taste. I really wanted to give you when you regained consciousness.”

The saint softly smiled.

Her smile carried a slight sense of relief and pride.

“Was that your intention?”

“Yeah. This tea helps restore fatigue and boosts energy. It was really fortunate that there were still tea leaves left.”

As I drank, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

The saint lived under such harsh conditions that she only ate potato peels sparingly.

‘Is it really okay for me to be given this?’

Looking down at the teacup, I cautiously spoke up.

“You said you lacked food. Is it really okay to give me something as precious as this?”

“Of course it is. If it’s for you, I can give you this much without hesitation.”

Her response was firm and natural,

without a trace of hesitation.

Her voice carried sincere warmth and clear trust.

‘What am I, really?’

Unable to meet her gaze as I looked down at the teacup, I murmured,

“Thank you, but I don’t deserve to receive so much.”

“Why not?”

“It’s obvious, because I’m the insufficient one. Not Saint.”

I bitterly smiled.

Yes, I was the one who was inadequate.

If a high-ranking deity like my father,

or even any other seniors had come to this world, they would have done better.

I had lost half of my power, a cripple, really.

To the extent that I was making my role as the god of death meaningless.

The sweet tea I drank suddenly tasted somewhat bitter.

“This situation happened because the connection with the netherworld has been cut off, isn’t that right? It’s not Mr. Death’s inadequacy that caused the problem.”

The saint was right.

This problem arose from the world where the connection with the netherworld was severed.

But…

That didn’t justify my own ineptitude.

“At least, any other god of death would not have taken three days to recover. Maybe they would already have devised a plausible solution now.”

“Mr. Death.”

The saint firmly shook her head as she tightly gripped my hand.

“Since the disappearance of death in this world, how many times do you think I prayed?”

“That is…”

“At first, it was every morning and evening. When the situation got worse, I prayed without eating or drinking, and without sleeping for several days on end.”

Her voice trembled but was resolute.

The saint met my eyes clearly.

Her gaze was filled with unwavering certainty.

“The countless prayers I repeated over and over again have finally received their first response from only you.”

“I wasn’t responding but just by coincidence…”

“Even if it was by coincidence, from the moment this world’s problems confronted you, you did your very best, didn’t you?”

I lost my words at her firm words.

The saint slowly tightened her grip on my hand.

“Your presence here itself is already a miracle for me.”

“Miracle…”

“It’s true. I’m grateful. I’m grateful that the god of death who came to this world was you, such a kind god.”

The saint’s eyes showed not the slightest flicker of uncertainty.

As someone who had seen countless humans, I couldn’t fail to see it.

The saint’s words and actions were…

Without any pretense, without any doubt.

“No matter what other gods of death might be like, it’s irrelevant. I’m not disappointed. At least for me, you are the best god of death.”

Her words were not a mere consolation or encouragement,

but outright belief.

I quietly took a deep breath.

A heavy sense of self-reproach that had weighed heavily on me seemed to gradually fade.

“I will try harder.”

Even as I uttered these short words, my voice trembled.

The saint simply smiled gently and nodded slowly.

“Then, please rest for now. I’m worried.”

“Yes, understood.”

“If you get up again, I’ll be really sad….”

“…I’ll lie down quietly.”

Her answer seemed satisfying, as the saint smiled brightly.

It almost felt like her smile warmed the room.

For some reason, I felt my strength somewhat ease.

“Promise me. You have to rest.”

“Yes, I promise.”

The saint stood up, seemingly reassured, and left the room,

leaving it quiet again.

I took a moment to stare at the coffee table where the teacup lay before slowly closing my eyes.

‘I’d better keep my promise to rest, first.’

I decided to rest for a while without thinking about anything else.

“…Uh.”

How long had I been asleep?

It seems I had fallen into deeper sleep than expected.

When I opened my eyes, the room was engulfed in darkness.

The faint glow of the moonlight seeping in through the curtains told me it was late at night.

“What time is it?”

As I arose, a strange weight could be felt.

Something soft and warm was cuddled in my embrace.

“What’s this?”

On looking to confirm by tilting my head,

I froze in place.

…Why is the saint sleeping in my arms?

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