Chapter 60: Secret Friends

Chapter 60: Secret Friends

“Ah, aah...! For the children who shed tears, the goddess bleeds!”

“I don’t know what that is, but it’s certainly not that.”

In fact, I know very well. Priests who believe in the Goddess of Love have divided the broad concept of love into several categories based on their doctrine.

Understanding the love of a god with a human body is challenging, so they refined it into a form they could accept.

Thus, they spent their lives exploring and practicing a few types of love that suited them... but among them, there was one considered the greatest.

“The loving-kindness of wiping away someone else’s tears with your own blood!”

“It’s not like that....”

Among the types of love that humans can understand, loving-kindness is said to be the most similar to that of the goddess.

Yes, I know too. Though I say it’s not like that with words and cry out for Karen to stop paying attention, I still want to cry...

I know all too well what the priests see in someone who purifies divine power out of nowhere and saves people by feeding them blood.

After all, it was the last treatment method I deliberately introduced!

The idea that a curse, thrown into chaos by a once-stopped heart, is completely deceived by the blood of others was just an addition later on.

The point is, isn’t it super cool that a person, thought to be dead, gets up abruptly after drinking the holy blood (not) flowing from the hand?

And this is clearly a setting introduced with loving-kindness in mind.

To pity the sick and heal their wounds with one’s own. How can one resist this!

But the problem is that the other party is none other than Karen.

She had been blessed with the ability to see emotions, and based on this, she perceived my unconditional love for this world the other day.

Yet, to witness the miracle of loving-kindness (it really isn’t) right before her eyes?

It would be enough to drive Karen, an inquisitor already more devout than the average clergy, to madness.

“Please do not deny what I see. In these eyes bestowed by the goddess, I see the apostle’s compassion and loving-kindness. Stop telling me to ignore what I’ve seen. I would rather be blinded.”

“No, but... This isn’t really it...”

“If you are worried about Priest Remilly, it’s alright. The moment I knelt, I temporarily obscured the vision of those around us.”

“At this close distance, I guess that makes sense... Since you’re an inquisitor.”

Inquisitors are a bit different from ordinary clergy.

They hunt heretics with distorted faiths from the One Who Devours the Twilight. They have learned different things than mere combat priests or paladins.

The ability to see through one’s lies. The method of interrogating the truth, a fanatical yet unwavering faith that remains unshaken even in the presence of divine power stemming from the same source, and the ways to conceal oneself and evade the public eye, among others.

Obscuring one’s sight momentarily shouldn’t be too difficult.

“Oh Apostle, the Holy One who has come to this land after a thousand years, what should I do?”

“Could you perhaps make today’s events as if they never happened...?”

As Karen scratched the back of her head in distress, Lydia, who had stepped forward as if to protect me, now wore a puzzled expression and frowned.

“No.”

With that firm word, she completely hid me behind her.

“Jonah is not what you think. So, stop tormenting him.”

“It sounds as if you believe you’re different. But in the end, aren’t you just like Miss Ellie, aiming for the grown-up body of Sir Jonah?”

“You’re wrong.”

Lydia, who had shaken her head, stealthily glanced at Jonah hidden behind her.

His expression was puzzled, yet he firmly grasped her waist as if his position behind Lydia meant he could overcome any adversity.

That sight evoked memories of a forest from long ago.

What had started as a simple prank had evolved into a demonstration of Jonah’s faith in her, and Lydia had reciprocated.

Even if Jonah himself did not acknowledge it, the oath they had shared that day was real.

“I am Jonah’s knight.”

To those who recognized her, Lydia willingly offered her loyalty. Even if it meant turning the world into her enemy, she never wavered in the direction of her sword.

“A sword that cuts down enemies and a shield that never breaks.”

Lydia’s heart pounded heavily. Her aura flared like flames, and her distinctive red eyes glowed brilliantly—a clear sign of a will that could ignite at any moment.

“If Jonah does not wish it, no one can force him.”

Lydia had always aspired to be a knight. She yearned to restore her fallen family’s honor and to retaliate against those who had scorned her.

Serving nobles, earning accolades on the battlefield, and indulging in slightly scandalous romances—all appealed to her.

But above all, Lydia craved something more substantial in this imperfect and chaotic world.

She sought what she believed to be right—her unwavering conviction.

“Even if it were the goddess herself, there would be no exception.”

A knight lives and dies by their conviction.

And Lydia was the most noble knight of all.

“You...!”

Karen ground her teeth as if she had been subjected to blasphemy. Lydia, her resolve hardened, was about to draw her rapier from thin air, a weapon well-suited for close combat.

Peek!

Jonah, poking his head from beneath Lydia’s armpit, spoke in his usual playful tone.

“Inquisitor Karen! How about we stop fighting and become secret friends?”

“...What?”

“Secret friends, you know, secret friends. We can sometimes talk in private, share tasty food...”

Jonah’s choice of words, laden with impure connotations, left both Karen and Lydia frozen in shock. With a mischievous grin, Jonah continued.

“We also beat up heretics together.”

“......”

“......”

Lydia tightly closed her eyes.

But what can she do? He is the lord she has chosen.