Chapter 26
< 26th Chapter > Guilt
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A branding iron heated by fire and several bottles of low-quality holy water.
As if laying out the instruments for a medical examination, the Sister was calmly organizing the tools in front of her, while the apprentice Sister Marianne voiced her concern.
“Sister, is it really necessary to go this far?”
There was no doubt that her sorrowful question was filled with deep concern.
The owner of those blue eyes, gazing quietly at the red-hot branding iron, was trying to carve an unhealed scar into her own face.
After searing her skin with the iron, she planned to heal it with the subpar holy water.
The idea that repeating this process could tattoo her body with burn marks that looked like they were decades old had shocked Marianne to the point of bedridden despair.
“If it’s a trick to hide your face, wearing a mask would already be enough… Moreover, it’s not certain that the Hero will visit this place… If you must damage your face, just… just once would be sufficient, right? As you know, Sister, things that can be healed with prayer or holy water are only wounds that haven’t healed yet. What can you do about scars from healed wounds…”
Marianne stopped talking.
The Sister gently embraced Marianne, soothing the pent-up emotions that had spilled out with her words.
“The fact that there’s someone with noticeable wounds left untreated in a monastery where the highest clergy gather can arouse suspicion. The ones I must deceive from now on are heroes who have seen all kinds of scars and the various means of healing them. A clumsy disguise will undoubtedly be seen through.”
“But…!”
“I’m fine. Sister Marianne.”
She couldn’t possibly be fine. It was impossible to be fine.
No matter how pure her body was sworn to the gods, being a woman. Especially with a scar on her face.
To live her life bearing a wound that could never be erased was akin to saying she would carry the pain and regret that could ignite at any moment until her death.
“Hoo, hoo! Sister!”
Marianne desperately tried to clear her vision, which was clouding with pitiful tears.
Perhaps this moment would be her last chance to capture that beautiful smile in her eyes.
Even though you must be suffering the most, the kindness of the Sister, gently patting her head and looking down at her, nearly made Marianne unleash the surge of emotion she had inside.
Clenching her fists, Marianne managed to finish with a smile composed with great effort.
“May the god smile upon you.”
With a sincere blessing, Marianne left the room, a hint of tears still lingering in her eyes.
The Sister, responding by bowing her head gently, saw her off.
From beyond the tightly closed room, no screams or moans could be heard, not even a syllable.
Shhhh, Shhhh.
Only the intermittent sounds of heated metal sticking to flesh could be heard.
◈◈◈
What is the most certain means to bind a human heart?
An emotional person might say friendship or love. A practical person might claim that beyond material compensation, there’s no way to sway someone’s will.
But for the Sister, who had seen many people calling themselves criminals in the cramped, dim confession room, she had long found her own solid answer.
Guilt.
It is the name of the heaviest chain that binds reason and tests the paths of those walking in virtue at every moment.
There is no more unstable existence than a human wracked with guilt.
They live doubting whether the foundation they stand upon, the path they are taking, and the series of actions they undertake are even justifiable.
The more severe the quality of the sin, the heavier the weight of the shackles biting at their ankles.
The murky eyes of a criminal dare not hold light and timidly gaze at the ground.
Exactly like now.
“Is this satisfactory?”
When the Sister’s calm question was asked, no one in that place could easily respond.
How could a person muster the courage to speak up in fear?
The reason the Sister had to expose what she wanted to hide from everyone was solely to dodge the arrows of suspicion they had shot at her.
Their doubts were unjust, and as a result, an innocent person might have been hurt.
Even those with ordinary reasoning would feel a weight in their hearts in such a situation.
Moreover, they were pieces of a hero backed by the admiration of an entire nation.
At that moment, the wave of guilt that washed over them must have been far beyond what the criminal could even imagine.
“The… scar…”
“I’m sorry for showing you an ugly sight. I have a shameful past of being captured by slave traders in my childhood…”
The Hero managed to find his voice with great difficulty, and noticing the visible anxiety from his words, the Sister felt that her scheme was taking effect and allowed a lie to flow.
In the shadows of the meeting room, akin to standing before God, she had no choice but to spin lies without a moment’s hesitation. As a Sister, she should be condemned to hell upon death for this.
But this pitiful method was the only way a mere human could stand up to those transcendent beings before her.
The Sister also bore a guilt large enough to not fall behind them, as she painfully continued to speak.
“What do you think? Does that shameless Sister you seek have such ugly scars too?”
Silence hung thick.
Once the Sister removed her mask, the positions of the one in pursuit and the one being pursued were completely reversed.
How long had it been since then?
The Hero, who had turned mute, Dawna, who was merely flustered without any appropriate words of apology, and Bigtim, who was still dozing.
Finally, it was the party’s elder, Apis, who slowly moved his heavy lips on behalf of the confused comrades.
“I… I’m sorry… It seems we misunderstood…”
“That can’t be true—!”
An echoing exclamation shattered the silence in the room.
“The scent! There was definitely a scent! There’s no way I wouldn’t recognize the Priest’s scent! I can’t tell where it got mixed up, but one thing is for certain! The Priest has been with this person for quite some time!”
“Hero! Calm down!”
In an unusual display of agitation, Apis rushed to calm the Hero, whose desperate emotions were palpable.
The Sister had no trouble guessing what the mixed scent the Hero kept mentioning was.
Contact with the Rosebelt Noble.
The brief time spent with her, who always carried an overwhelming scent of perfume, must have played a crucial role in obscuring the whereabouts of Priest Regis.
Divine fortune. If this was not the result of someone’s calculations, then it could only be seen as a miracle bestowed by the gods.
Thus, the Sister felt a strong urge to seal this moment and desperately gathered her courage to whisper.
“I’m sorry… But if I may add my thoughts, since this monastery houses the meeting room of the Saintess, a place that serves as the heart of the Vatican where priests from various nations come and go, it’s possible that I may have come into contact with the Priest you mentioned, leaving some of their scent on me…”
Right at that moment.
“HERO!”
“Stop it! Hero!”
Before she could sense any change or grab hold of a mere moment’s respite, the Sister was unable to fully comprehend the frightening golden metal that suddenly appeared in front of her.
Her joints stiffened as if the chill had seeped into her body, akin to needles piercing through her skin.
“Ugh…! Ugh…!”
She saw a single drop of tear and heard a ragged breath.
It was only right afterward that the Sister understood the Hero was threatening her with a sword.
Though Apis’s bow and Dawna’s magic were unable to keep up with the swift sword strike of the Hero, thanks to someone’s strong hand emerging from the side, they managed to catch the Hero’s sword in time, sparing the Sister from the tragedy of being cut.
“Sister. Calm down.”
Bigtim, who had been dozing just a moment ago, opened his sleepy eyes as if they would never fully awake.
“D-Drop it… Ugh! Drop! Ugh! Drop it…! Ugh! Drop it…!”
The sword blade was blocked from reaching anywhere by an obstacle.
However, nothing was found to take the place of the shards from the Hero’s frantic words that scattered as if to take on that role.
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