259 – Apostle of Grace -4-

A long time ago.

There was a woman with unusual eyes.

She could see emotions in people’s hearts as colors and comforted them by following those emotions.

The woman loved the discipline of faith.

She adored the virtue of God, who gives generously and devotes himself. So she dedicated her entire life to God. It was the greatest offering she could give to God.

The woman became a nun, wanting to spread God’s love to more people, and she shared her gift with everyone.

Even on the battlefield.

Even in the darkest depths of human ugliness.

She lived proclaiming God’s love.

People applauded the nun, reminiscent of the return of a saint, and asked her,

“Isn’t it hard?”

“Why do you enjoy spreading God’s love that goes unrequited?” people asked the woman.

Born a noble with blue blood, she could have lived an enviable life, yet people mocked her for not indulging in it.

To their questions, the woman always responded with a foolish smile and said,

“If I die later, wouldn’t the Lord recognize my sacrifice?”

The nobles laughed at her foolishness, while the commoners applauded her noble sacrifice.

An angel without wings.

And so, the woman’s sacrifice continued.

It had continued on until now.

Albeit down a somewhat misguided path.

Her name was Elysia.

She was called the Saint of Serenity.

*

Chartia couldn’t believe the woman before her. It was something that shouldn’t be happening.

“Why are you…?”

Saint

She wasn’t officially titled by the church.

People just called her a saint, for she didn’t possess powers like the saints in the history books.

She was merely more divine than others.

And had sacrificed without expecting anything in return.

A plain nun, that’s all she was.

Chartia clenched her eyes shut, struggling to straighten out her confused thoughts.

She pondered where things had gone wrong, what had twisted, and reflected on her own mistakes.

Normally, she would have doubted Rohan’s words first. It was only now that Chartia, with wavering eyes, realized that everything had been amiss from the start.

Yet, Chartia couldn’t understand.

She had no connection with the woman before her.

Not at the academy.

Nor in the dormitory. She had never met this woman, except for the one time she came to give a lecture at the academy.

That was three years ago.

“Sacrifice is not something to be proud of. It shouldn’t be flaunted or boasted about.”

It was time for the magic’s influence to have faded long ago.

Chartia looked at Elysia with trembling eyes, unable to find answers in her own thoughts.

Elysia bowed her head with a kind smile. Even the slightest movement seemed to radiate a holy aura. Ironically enough.

“Such esteemed guests have come to visit. Many faces from the empire that are hard to see.”

Elysia locked eyes with each person as she recited their names.

“The princess with commoner’s blood, Chartia.”

“The young swordsman who achieved greatness at an early age, Mikhail.”

“The poor magician who lost his way in pride, Ruin.”

Elysia clapped her hands and beamed a bright smile at the platinum-haired man.

“Oh my, even the second most radiant prince of the empire is here. To think you’d grace such a humble church with your presence, I’m at a loss for words as a clergyman.”

Shartia recognized the woman before her, which only intensified the dread she felt in this situation.

“Sister Elysia? Why is the Saint of Gentleness here…?”

“Hehe… I’m honored that you remember the name of such an insignificant nun, Your Highness.”

“You…! Why are you here, you who were called a saint?”

At Shartia’s question, Elysia grinned and shook her head.

“I am not the person you think I am, Your Highness. I’m just an opportunist, waiting for the day I’ll be rewarded from the heavens above.”

“Then why…?”

“Because the god I believe in is here.”

Elysia hugged the bible tucked at her side lovingly and said to Shartia,

“There’s no problem with my home being here, is there? Perhaps you’ve come to the shepherd’s house to feed a lost soul, Your Highness?”

“…”

“It’s only natural for a shepherd to light the way when a sheep has lost its path. Just as I have been guided by the Lord, you too must have been drawn by fate to seek me out.”

Elysia began to unravel Shartia’s questions with a small smile.

“Have there been many unresolved matters that have become burdensome to you?”

“…”

“Fears too overwhelming to bear, gnawing at your heart.”

“…”

“It’s because of such matters that you find yourself struggling amidst adversity.”

Shartia glared, spitting out harsh words. Telling her to stop making nonsensical sounds.

“Is this your doing?”

Elysia looked at Shartia with a faint smile.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“Did you orchestrate all of this, bringing us here?”

“I merely provided a stimulus to your hearts. A nudge to act upon the desires you’ve always harbored.”

Elysia gently moved her fingertips, drawing lines in the air. As white light began to scatter from the tips of her fingers, the familiar blueprint entered Shartia’s eyes.

The Academy.

Elysia unfolded the blueprint of the Academy where she had been for four years, right in the air.

“The most important thing in proselytizing is the opportunity.”

Elysia marked a point at the very center of the blueprint, smiling. The spot she marked was the heart of the Academy, where the boundary stone lay.

Guarding the Academy.

Elysia pointed at the origin of the barrier created by the founding emperor, her smile unwavering.

“Where there is discontent, a wick is always lit. We need something to rely on, something to depend upon.”

“…”

“I’ve merely made you all honest. To seek the faith you desire in a deity.”

Elysia drew a few more images in the air.

Chartia working in her office.

Yuria, locked in the bathroom, crying.

And Ruin, sequestered in his room, in reclusion.

Elysia said with a smile,

“The gift I received from the deity is to plant the seeds of evangelism in your hearts.”

“…”

“You all harbor anxieties that I’ve merely peeked at. You might ask how… Hehe. Indeed.”

Elysia sealed her lips with a gentle smile.

“The god I believe in makes the impossible possible. It’s just about prostrating with gentleness before the deity. That’s why I love you all and why I’ve called you here.”

Elysia moved slowly.

“It’s like a magnet, this relationship.”

She stroked Rohan’s head, who stood at the forefront, with her black nails, all the while wearing a pleasant smile.

“We call this irresistible force magnetism.”

Rohan was trembling.

Shivering like a leaf in the wind.

Frightened by Elysia’s faint breath, he shuddered, closing his eyes tightly and gasping as the black nails grazed his skin.

“Ughhh…”

“Saint Rohan. Do you remember now?”

“Ahh… aaahhh!!!”

“I’ve heard you’ve had many conversations with ‘Yung,’ the saint who heals painful memories.”

“Sh…shut up…!”

“Did you have a good dream?”

“Shut up… you devil!”

“Hehe… My faithful tool, Saint Rohan. You speak so mischievously.”

Elysia’s hand began to shine. The light that had drawn pictures in the air started to engulf Rohan’s head, dancing wildly.

Ferociously, as if to devour.

It covered Rohan’s eyes and mouth, slowly consuming him.

“A servant of God lives according to their purpose. That is the joy of those who have become servants.”

“Kuhuk!”

“Let’s cast away those unpleasant memories here and pray together like we did last time.”

Evangelism.

“Because I am an evangelist.”

As the light in Elysia’s hand faded, Rohan turned to look at the frozen student council executives.

Shartia. Yuria. Ruin. Hanna. Mikhail.

Looking at them, Rohan teared up and bit his lip.

“I’m sorry, everyone…”

Only now did Rohan recall the memories of the past.

When he sought the heretic church and fled down to the village. That’s when he met a man with a severed hand.

-“Has the church been on the mountain for a long time?”

-“Yes, if you know something, please tell me…”

-“Hmm… That was a close call.”

-“…!!!”

-“Ah, I am Archbishop Yung of Oblivion.”

-“Archbishop…! I must flee…!”

-“Kwaang!”

-“But, Saint, you have such interesting memories, don’t you?”

Led by the man who introduced himself as the Archbishop of Oblivion, Rohan was brought to the church.

And the moment the man’s hand touched his head, everything felt blindingly white.

As if memories of success and hope were being implanted in his mind, his thoughts were scrambled.

And that woman.

-“Yung. Saint.”

-“Apostle.”

-“A new believer?”

-Indeed.

-Is that so? Then, is this person Mikhail as Saint mentioned?

-No, it’s not.

-That’s a pity. Well… shall we try to convert?

That woman was a devil.

Luring people with sweet words.

A devil who made you spill your innermost words as if she knew all truths, naturally assimilating you into this place.

Here, her words were law and truth. Yes, as if turning human beings into mere tools.

-Let us pray.

He locked away all emotions.

Rohan moved. A tool must serve its master’s purpose. If the master wishes to use it as a pen, it becomes a pen; if as a rag, it becomes a rag. That’s the reason for a tool’s existence.

Rohan drew his sword from his waist and charged at Shartia.

“Le…let’s…pray.”

Elysia said with a sardonic smile.

“Saints, let us pray.”

***

-Crunch…!

“Oh…”

The man watching this scene was rummaging through a bag of snacks, eating his fill.

“How fascinating.”

He exclaimed in admiration.

Ricardo.

The possessed.

The man who thought himself the most handsome in the world.

I nodded, my situation mirroring that of the novel, and smiled contentedly.

As Rohan swung his sword, Mikhail would block it.

-Clang!

Counterattack.

-Whoosh!

And behind them, Elysia laughed.

-Hohoho…

It was fascinating to see the situation unfold just as it did in the novel. It’s something I feel every time.

“You’ve grown a lot. Yuria and Mikhail can now take on the Archbishop together.”

They were strong to begin with, but how should I put it? There was a sense of ease about them.

-Clear your mind… Clarisma!!

-Snap out of it!

There seemed to be no need for worry.

“You’re doing well.”

Reinforcements would arrive soon. It seemed like a good time to call it a day.

This story was a brief glimpse of the Apostle’s face. A story to remind us just how powerful an Apostle can be.

Fortunately, no one had died.

That woman was no ordinary crazy woman.

The Apostle of Grace, ‘Elysia,’ lived solely for the purpose of preaching, so there was no need to fear meaningless death. The only blemish was her devotion to a false god, but even so, she was an Apostle worthy of recognition for her character.

Unlike Olaf.

Compared to the Apostle of Mercy, ‘Olaf,’ she could be considered reasonably insane. The difference in strength between the two wasn’t significant, but she was an Apostle not to be underestimated.

Elysia’s ability was to make everything she saw bend to her will.

A very tricky ability indeed.

Anyway.

Elysia did not torment people with murder. Instead, she shattered their minds.

With ordinary mental strength, one couldn’t stand against Elysia. She could turn Mikhail, who had awakened as a hero, into a wreck.

Honestly, winning was impossible.

I could do it, though.

Anyway, there was no need to overthink this episode.

Once Chartia, who had regained her physical freedom, shattered the jewel of the ring and Rowen arrived, it would be over.

The story ended with Elysia’s retreat.

In simple terms, it was a game where the student councils had to hold out.

The point to note, yes.

-aaah!!

The question was whether they could hold out until the reinforcements arrived.