Chapter 504: Brilliance (3)

Chapter 504: Brilliance (3)

Contrary to the passionate cheers coming from outside the window, Kristina's words were soft and chilly. Eugene stopped waving at the crowd and turned his head to look at her.

The Saint had just denied the existence of a god of her own volition, yet her expression remained surprisingly calm. Her face showed no sign of anger, betrayal, or despair.

"What's all this about suddenly?" Eugene asked first.

He had his suspicions, even certainty, but no proof. Therefore, he didn't want to make unnecessary remarks, especially considering both Kristina and Anise were Saints of the God of Light.

"There's no need to be considerate of me," Kristina whispered with a faint smile.

Her words were interrogative, and her gaze didn't seek deception or undue kindness. In the end, Eugene sighed softly and retracted his hand from the window.

With a click, the window closed, silencing the loud cheers from outside. Eugene turned to face Kristina.

Consideration.

He didn't deny it. The reason Eugene had refrained from speaking about the Light was ultimately out of consideration.

Kristina and Anise were born as Saints.

It had always been so.

They were created to worship the Light and to be tools for the Light.

They weren’t even allowed a normal childhood because they were born and raised in such a manner.

They were symbols for spreading the faith.

They were products to enchant the faithful.

They were divine weapons for conveniently wielding miracles.

That was what the Saint was.

They were coerced into faith in the Light. Anise harbored disillusionment with the Light and religion after having lived centuries and endured many wars. Yet, she didn't deny the existence of the Light itself. She did not deny that the Light illuminated the world, nor did she deny the existence of heaven.

It wasn’t just Anise, either. During the era of war, the priests and even atheists who didn’t believe in gods sought the existence of a deity. They prayed for an omniscient being to save the world and to lead the deceased to heaven.

"Since when have you known?" asked Eugene.

Kristina wasn't as desperate as Anise. She was still young and had not experienced the horrific times that Anise did.

However, even Kristina yearned for the existence of heaven. She believed it was right for the sinful to go to hell and the virtuous to heaven.

"Probably around the same time you felt it, Sir Eugene," she said. "The moment when the Light, more radiant than ever, seeped into you."

Eugene knew exactly which moment she was referring to.

It was during his battle with the specter when he cast aside all of his hesitations. It was the moment when the specter swung his sword to kill Eugene, and his dark power transformed into flames to destroy Eugene.

"When the Holy Sword Altair, left by the Light in this world, shattered."

The blade of the Holy Sword had shattered; it had been utterly destroyed. But the destruction of the blade did not diminish its sanctity. Instead, the Holy Sword reclaimed its true form through destruction. The Light was freed from the confinement of the blade and enveloped Eugene.

Within the cradle of light, albeit for a brief instant, Eugene was able to come to a shallow understanding of the Light.

"It wasn't through you that I came to know this, Hamel,” Anise spoke up. Her expression wasn’t much different from Kristina's bitter smile. "We are Saints. Though other priests might not have felt it, we, who are closest to the Light, could sense it from the light that poured out of the Holy Sword."

"The Light is not a being that can be called a god,” Anise stated. "It lacks the holy will that one would attribute to a deity."

There had been doubts before, even during the era of war. The Light never manifested despite the fervent prayers. More than anything, even Anise, who was closest to the Light, received no revelation.

In that irrational world, one was forced to believe in the existence of the Light. The era would have been unbearable without some semblance of hope, which took the form of faith in the existence of the Light, of a god, and heaven.

Fortunately, there were things that could serve as the basis for faith — the Holy Sword and the Hero, Vermouth Lionheart.

But was he truly a hero?

"I can't define it as any particular entity, but what I felt... is certainly not what one would call a god. It's just...." Anise’s voice trailed off. CHeCk for new stories on no/v/el/bin(.)c0m

"I felt something similar to you two,” Eugene spoke up. "The Light... is not the god most people imagine it to be."

The divinity of Agaroth and the divinity of the Light were entirely different. Thus, Eugene was confident that the light was not an ordinary god.

"Hamel. Are you denying my assertion that the Light is not a god?" Anise questioned. She appeared surprised.

The truth about the Light made Anise feel considerably betrayed. After all, she had desperately sought the grace and miracles of the Light during her lifetime.

She walked through battlefields for years and saw countless corpses. She prayed that all humans who died before her eyes would be led to heaven. Anise could speak harsh words about the Light, unbecoming of a believer because she had harbored such a deep yearning for it.

However, the Light Anise felt did not contain the divinity she had longed for in her lifetime. That truth, instead, made Anise more rational. It allowed her to understand the indifference of the Light. It allowed her to understand what had been incomprehensible to her throughout her life.

"You've also received a few revelations, haven't you?" questioned Eugene.

"Revelations?" Anise scoffed and shook her head. "Yes, I've had a few revelations. I became an angel after death due to a miracle of the Light.”

She could not remember the exact moment when she became an angel. When she came to her senses, Anise was already an angel, drifting within the light.

There had been other angels besides Anise in the vast sea of light. They were angels who descended to perform miracles. However, these angels did not possess a self like Anise did.

The revelations Kristina heard were imparted by Anise. The dream Eugene saw through the Holy Sword was nothing more than a transmission of Anise's memories.

"Did I say something strange?" he asked.

"No.... Not at all, Sir Eugene," Kristina managed between laughs, finding the burden of recent days ludicrously lifted.

The doubt about the Light being a divine being, the absence of heaven, and the unequal treatment of believers — did any of that truly matter?

The Light had chosen Eugene as the wielder of the Holy Sword and as the Hero. That alone was sufficient.

Even if the Light did not intend to illuminate the world, Eugene would slay the Demon Kings. If there was no heaven of the Light, Eugene would become a new god and open the gates to a new heaven.

And that was enough. Anise clasped her rosary, and Kristina joined her hands in prayer.

"Then, we are Sir Eugene's saints," they realized.

Until now, they were Saints of the Light, but now they wished to be Eugene's saints. Eugene felt an odd sensation at their declaration. He could sense the light from the Holy Sword within his cloak. The light embedded in his inner cosmos seemed to expand momentarily.

"Uh."

The Saints frowned upon noticing Eugene’s reaction. Startled, Kristina raised her right hand. A wound appeared on her palm. It started to bleed, and once the blood passed her wrist, the wound suddenly healed and left a scar.

"Stigmata..." Anise murmured in surprise.

Eugene was shocked and immediately approached her before inspecting her wrist.

"What just happened?" he asked.

Anise’s gaze was fixated on her Stigmata, and she remained silent. Anise had received a baptism in the Fount of Light, and an artificial Stigmata had been etched on her back. The Pope of Yuras and the cardinals bore the same synthetic marks.

However, Kristina's left hand had manifested real Stigmata in the sea of Shimuin. The mark that now appeared on her right hand was equally genuine.

"Let's try cutting off an arm, Hamel," Anise suggested after jerking her head towards Eugene. Eugene’s expression contorted in dismay.

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“Another Stigmata has appeared. Simply put, it means the power of miracles has become stronger. Then, I should be able to perform miracles I could do in the past,” said Anise.

“Wait a minute,” Eugene protested.

“Shouldn't we test to see what level of miracles are possible now? Trust me,” assured Anise.

“No.... But there’s no need to test it on me...” Eugene muttered.

“Then who shall we test it on?” questioned Anise.

“I’ll-I'll go and cut off someone else's arm,” Eugene answered.

“My goodness, Hamel, what are you talking about? What if the arm doesn’t reattach?” questioned Anise.

“I didn't want to say this, but isn't my arm far more valuable than any average person’s arm?” Eugene retorted.

Anise’s expression twisted at Eugene’s blunt remark.

“My goodness, my goodness! How selfish and arrogant can you be, Hamel? And you talk of gods and heaven!” she exclaimed.

“I did think it was a bit too much after saying it,” admitted Eugene.

“Truthfully, Hamel, what you said isn’t wrong. In such a situation, I would lay down my life in your place. But! You should not be the one to say such things. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Anise inquired.

“Uh... uh...” Eugene stuttered.

“Since you dislike the idea so much, we won’t cut off your arm. There must be someone in the hospital with a missing arm or leg. We can test it there,” suggested Anise.

Eugene’s hand was still on Anise’s wrist. Anise smiled slyly while looking at the blood flowing from her palm.

“Bleeding from the Stigmata reminds me of the old days. Do you remember, Hamel?” she asked.

“Of course, I remember. How could I forget?” responded Eugene.

“I’ve said this before, but I liked it when you wiped the blood from my Stigmata. Hehe, when was it? I thought you were detestable as you wore your indifferent face, just like always, while wiping the blood and applying ointment,” said Anise.

“Why would caring for a wound be detestable?” Eugene retorted.

“Even though I took off my top and exposed my bare skin, you acted as if it didn’t bother you at all. At first, you blushed and didn’t know where to look, but later, you just cared for the wound as if it was nothing. That’s why sometimes, I slightly lowered the hand covering my chest,” Anise admitted.

[Sister! So, what did Sir Eugene do? Did Sir Eugene glance at your chest? Was he unable to overcome his carnal desires? Did he extend the towel he used to wipe the blood and his hand towards your chest?] Kristina’s scream echoed in her head.

But this outcry and clamor differed from before. The previous Kristina could not bear the embarrassment and cried out in horror, but now she showed an active and desperate longing mixed with curiosity.

Anise wasn’t sure how to feel. Her mind felt tumultuous.

Eugene pulled out a handkerchief and started wiping the blood during Anise’s silence.

“I guess it doesn’t hurt,” commented Eugene.

“Regrettably so,” responded Anise.

“What do you mean by regrettably?” Eugene grumbled as he let go of Anise’s wrist.

Anise looked at the Stigmata imprinted on her palm and pouted.

[It would have been better if it was etched on our back.] Kristina voiced Anise’s regret with empathy.