Thank You for Being Born.

Cells are entities that must form a cycle by constantly dying and being born anew.

However, occasionally there are cases where cells that haven’t died overdevelop, continuing to function endlessly without dying and proliferating excessively.

This, called a tumor in medical terms, can sometimes be harmless like benign tumors, but it can also approach as a fatal danger classified as a malignant tumor… commonly called ‘cancer cells’.

The phenomenon of cells that should die surviving endlessly like zombies, necrotizing even surrounding cells, making them just like themselves and eventually spreading to consume the entire body…

Because I understood that theory to some extent, I too didn’t have any particular expectations at first.

It wasn’t in the uterus to begin with, so it was almost certainly a ‘teratoma’ that parasitized the mother while sucking away her life.

That was a fact I realized because the one I serve is the most excellent doctor in this world…

“Cle, are you watching?”

The words I should have uttered to elicit sympathy ironically led to astonishment… and beyond that, to ‘awe’ at this moment.

I couldn’t help it.

Because the child extracted by cutting open the mother’s belly was, contrary to my expectations, in an ‘extremely normal state’.

All fingers and toes are the correct number, and there’s nothing strange in any of the joints. The body and head are the right size… Even all parts of the body are attached properly where they should be.

Just in case, I infused mana to check the state of the organs, but even that was the same…

“It’s alive, really… cleanly.”

Yes, the words of the mother who cried out while hugging her belly were not wrong.

But is this really possible?

At the moment when I felt a sense of unreality floating up because it was too perfect.

I even wondered if my mind, tired from staying up all night, was making me dream, but…

-Ah, uh…

No. This is not a dream.

It was felt from the warmth of the baby cradled in my arms, its wriggling fingers grasping my hand.

“…A miracle.”

Yes, this is…

This moment could only be expressed as a miracle.

That a body that absorbed its twin separated from inside the mother’s womb, that tumor, settled intact in the belly without being completely digested by the body.

That it remained quiet until awakening divine power after becoming an adult, without harming the body in that state.

That even though the growing fetus over 2 months of pregnancy was caught between organs, the damage didn’t grow to the extent of endangering the mother’s life.

That the person the mother carrying such a child went to had the generosity to consider her circumstances, that the person she called had the knowledge to understand what existed in that belly, and that person had the skills to extract the child inside the belly intact.

Created by the overlap of such coincidences…

How else could this moment, realized with astronomical probability, be explained if not as a miracle?

“But why…”

Despite being a child born after so many twists and turns.

“Why aren’t you crying, little one?”

Why is this child.

From the moment it came out of the mother’s belly, just waving its hands with its mouth firmly shut?

“Uh, ueh… ah…”

The sight of moving its hands in all directions while cradled in my arms.

That sight looked like it was searching for something, but its face was scrunched up fiercely.

Even though a newborn’s eyesight is poor, it’s not that they can’t see anything at all. In this state, the eyes probably can’t even be seen.

Is somewhere hurting? So I gathered divine power in my hand and stroked it, but the baby’s body that reacted to that light began to twitch greatly.

“Ah, uah…”

The child groaning as if in pain.

But that didn’t lead to crying.

As if it had forgotten how to cry…

No, as if it felt some kind of aversion to crying itself.

“…Well, you’ve been suppressing it all along.”

Although separated from inside the mother’s womb, it had essentially been asleep in the embrace of twin siblings for nearly 20 years.

It was just that growth was delayed. Although it can’t speak and intellectual abilities aren’t yet developed, its instincts might be as honed as adults’.

Of course, it might be speculation, but wouldn’t it be funny for me, who has experienced reincarnation, to immediately deny such a possibility?

Still, even I cried loudly with a bit of acting when I was born as a baby, but this child is too precocious despite being a baby.

“…Cle.”

While embracing such a child.

I gradually conveyed my current feelings to the god I serve and the teacher who guided me.

“Delivering a child is a very difficult thing.”

It was an honest feeling.

A situation that was even more anxious because it wasn’t just about saving something dying, but because there was doubt whether it was even life or not.

Seeing the baby babbling as if disregarding my worries, I even felt as if I was being rewarded for all the hardships until now.

“The weight of life is clearly felt at my fingertips.”

Seeing that child fidgeting with my finger made me smile involuntarily.

Yes, birth is this fierce.

I even thought that life could be this beautiful, but.

“That weight is felt so clearly… So, I’m rather scared.”

Perhaps this child I saved with these hands.

Might experience an even more painful future than the life I’ve lived…

“Was it really the right decision for me to save this child?”

Yes, the life born after this fierceness probably won’t be smooth sailing.

As its birth originated from uncertainty, there will be much doubt and criticism from the surroundings, and the public that doesn’t understand individuals will judge everything about this child with a biased view and exert sadism.

Even though it’s barely born, its future is clearly a thorny path.

With such a future foreseen, conflict began to be felt about whether it was really the right choice to keep this child alive.

It’s even harder to shake off because I realize that weight with my own hands…

“…Cle?”

The one who stroked my helpless hand was none other than the god I serve.

Without a single word.

But my teacher who grasps my hand firmly holding the child.

And the mental pillar that always responds to my call when I’m having a hard time.

“…That’s right, no one was born because they wanted to be.”

At such encouragement, I finally smiled and brought my forehead to the forehead of the child cradled in my arms.

“Little one. Your life ahead might be very painful.”

I whisper like that.

About the very tiring and lonely life when I lived a life I didn’t want myself.

“People you meet might curse you without reason, slander you and torment you. Even if you work hard, things might not go well, and times might come when you struggle not knowing what to do in the end.”

Although I tell of the pain I’ve felt in such a way.

Even that pain eventually ends up being just for a moment.

“But it’s okay. The world isn’t just full of painful things.”

The second life I encountered afterwards.

At least it wasn’t just painful like the first life.

“You might fall once or twice while living. The scraped wound might sting.”

Still, happiness existed, and I could dream of such things.

“But if there’s someone to guide you when you fall down crying, you’ll be able to muster the courage to stand up enduring the pain.”

I foresee that someone will exist to soothe the pain in that life.

“And, because I’m the one who took you in… At least I won’t betray you.”

A life saved by my hands.

The child I first contributed to its birth.

Because I feel unparalleled value in you at this moment, I’m probably feeling love for you who has no connection to me.

“Thank you for being born.”

Perhaps my father felt this way on that day, when he uttered the same words?

Such empathy involuntarily drew a smile.

“And… I’ll make you into a child who can hear such words in the future too.”

That heart eventually led to a determination.

For the child I delivered with my own hands.

Firming my resolve to turn all those who serve the most noble saint sacrifice in this world into enemies.

---

“Believers of Lagrid! I who stand before you am merely a human!!”

While holding such a child.

I cried out loudly in front of the inquisitors surrounding me.

“Unlike the saint who disappeared embracing all original sin, I am a weak being who can only save one human before my eyes with just a human body.”

What they emphasize so much.

Teaching that I too am a worthless being, and a foolish and powerless being who can commit sins at any time.

“But even someone like me can understand how valuable this moment is. I, who embraced this child with these hands, know better than anyone how precious this being crying in my arms is.”

At the same time, standing in the same position as them, I evoke empathy about how precious the child in my arms is.

The existence of the saint they worship so much.

By sublimating into praise the sacrifice inevitably chosen for the unity of the group to protect such a saint.

“So I’ll ask you on this occasion.”

To this reality that even I can’t believe.

“In your eyes, this child awakened from a virgin’s body… Does it really look like a demon?”

I demand that they affirm with their own mouths.

This reality that even they can’t believe.

“Or… Does it look like the result of a miracle like the birth of the one you serve?”

Yes, you must know too.

That this current situation is absolutely, definitely impossible unless a miracle occurs.

If the woman who carried this child hadn’t awakened faith. If such a heart hadn’t recognized the unidentified being that suddenly settled in her womb as ‘life’.

If by any chance the person who took her in was someone lacking in understanding who disparaged her as a cursed being, if I, who was called by such a person, hadn’t made the decision to save this child…

This moment that couldn’t have been realized if any one of those conditions wasn’t met should certainly be called a miracle.

I believed without doubt that even those who try to analyze everything in the world mathematically would affirm the existence of God at this moment alone, and feel gratitude towards heaven.

“Please, give me an answer.”

But still.

There was still one condition left for this child to be acknowledged.

“How does this child look in your eyes?”

The order Lagrid.

Followers of the saint who ascended bearing original sin.

Among them, the inquisitors were those who resolved to do the cruelest things for the unity of the order, more than anyone else.

A stubborn and narrow-minded force that chooses to boldly eliminate if it can’t make the public understand, even if it can be explained logically.

“It can’t be.”

Even such people are unable to flatly deny that the current situation is wrong.

“The same birth as Him… There’s no way it could happen in a place like this…”

Yes, they won’t try to understand.

As I’m also religious, I knew their psychology to some extent.

Because logical understanding isn’t necessary in faith. It’s enough to just believe the visible results and feel reverence from that.

So accept this moment as it is now.

Accept this visible moment as it is, and recalling the existence of the saint you worship so much.

Considering this moment as a scene from mythology, and feeling glory in enjoying that moment yourself.

“It can’t be… This is…”

But miracles are called miracles because they don’t happen easily.

A miracle that will never happen again in this world appears as reality before their eyes now. Such a thing can’t be possible.

“There’s no way this is possible…!!”

Yes, so they won’t easily acknowledge this moment now.

That was a result I had foreseen too, but.

“Ah, ga…”

Ironically, the believers here weren’t just them.

“Tea, cher.”

Arian Hayes.

She, who had endured the pain felt through the caesarean section with a clear mind, was now calling me as if she had barely regained her senses.

Although I had already finished suturing and treatment with divine power, her strength had already hit rock bottom as bleeding and sweat couldn’t be helped.

“The child, is…”

Nevertheless, she was calling me while stretching out her trembling hand.

“Where, is, the child?”

A very anxious and precarious voice.

“Yes, Arian-san. It’s here.”

I gave her the crying child from my arms into her hand, as if I had been waiting.

Supporting her lest it fall from that hand.

“Ah, aah…”

But making such worry seem foolish, strength was felt in her hands at the moment she embraced the child.

The affection felt in those eyes looking down at the child her belly had carried, while sitting on the bed.

Despite giving birth to the child alone.

In the eyes looking down at that child, something that could clearly be called love was felt.

‘It’s alive, you say…’

Yes, that heart must have been the foundation needed to create this current miracle.

Compassion that felt life even in the phenomenon that confused her…

That heart becomes faith, and eventually becomes light and slowly begins to overlap the treasure cradled in her arms.

“Thank you, Lord. For letting me hold this child in my arms…”

As that sight also evokes a scene from mythology.

As if forgetting even to utter denials in the end, those who had been watching began to kneel down one by one.

“His…”

The executioners who had gathered here for the unity of the order.

At the moment they felt pure awe at the scene unfolding before them.

“As a follower of Saint Yeshua, I behold His reincarnation…”

At the reality where even the cruelest and most narrow-minded people bow their heads, I realized one fact along with relief.

In an age where gods are slowly dying.

A miracle created by none other than human hands will serve as an opportunity to evoke new faith in this world.