Ch.11638. You Kept Your Promise. (2)

Would you believe there’s a monastery on a remote island?

This place, known as St. Lehena Island, was once the birthplace of a saint called Lehena.

While it might be considered a holy site, it wasn’t exactly a publicly known one.

Saint Lehena’s death was also a disgrace for the religious order, so the truth about it was concealed for a long time.

Only after 90 years had passed was Lehena belatedly canonized as a saint, but could that hide the sins committed by the people and church members of the past?

Rather, extensive construction was carried out here according to the Pope’s intention at that time to uncover these sins and use them as an opportunity for reflection.

Therefore, this place, St. Lehena Monastery, also served the purpose of commemorating her.

And now, this place consists of just a small untouched mountain and a coastal village nearby.

Without even a lighthouse and not overlapping with regular shipping routes, it’s a place no one would visit unless they deliberately intended to.

Even after disembarking from a ship and landing on the island, one must walk for quite some time into the mountains before the monastery comes into view.

In terms of scale, it was relatively impressive compared to a small, formally constructed monastery.

The most striking feature is undoubtedly the cathedral.

Though not particularly large, it was evident at a glance that more effort had been put into it than the church buildings of most small towns.

Diagonally on either side of the cathedral building were what appeared to be dormitories, and directly opposite the front of the cathedral stood a very narrow circular tower.

The garden was surrounded by these four structures: the cathedral, the two dormitory buildings, and finally the circular tower.

This central area, structured to allow movement between the four buildings, was the only space where those staying in the monastery could enjoy communal life.

And although the dormitory buildings faced each other, the areas within them were clearly distinguished by their respective roles.

The western dormitory housed the bathhouse and facilities for bodily needs, namely toilets.

The eastern dormitory contained the dining hall, known as the “energy restoration room,” and a writing room that doubled as a library and scriptorium.

The sleeping quarters were strictly divided between communal areas and individual rooms.

However, there was one exception:

The circular tower.

It was essentially a penitentiary within the monastery.

A building serving that purpose.

Within the monastery, it was known, whether openly or not, as the imprisonment tower.

Penitence (痛悔) means to sincerely and genuinely repent one’s sins, so entering that place was akin to a personal declaration to repent earnestly.

However, nowadays, it had come to be equated with a punishment that deprived wrongdoers of their freedom.

Life in that place, which, while better than a cell or prison in terms of conditions, was still similarly harsh, would typically lead to mental deterioration.

Light barely filtered through the dim wall crevices, and despite appearing to have no gaps, the wind somehow found its way in, making one shiver involuntarily when the weather turned cold.

Hot weather brought its own form of suffering.

But the most stifling aspect was that all one had was a bed, a small desk, a chair, and at most a Bible, and even with this, time was surprisingly tight due to the focus required for transcription work.

Most would think having such tasks to do would be better than nothing, but…

For Alesia, this wasn’t the case.

“I’ll grow old and die just writing.”

They say transcription could be done quickly with magic or magical tools.

But there were so many anachronistic individuals who still firmly believed that one must write meticulously by hand, claiming that only then would the soul be imbued and the sincerity reach heaven.

…In that sense, a manuscript transcribed by someone called a saint like herself would probably have astronomical value.

Moreover, since it was done during the process of repentance, its worth would be even more precious. What kind of perverts would find such value in this?

Even here, there’s a history.

An ancient saint had continued transcription for years for the purpose of repentance and reflection, and later achieved greatness and benefited the world widely. It was said that her miraculous power was applied to the Bible and transcripts, which eventually became holy relics.

As time passed, these even became the livelihood of several monasteries.

In that sense, the abbess couldn’t leave Alesia, who was half-confined here, idle, and was naturally assigning her such tasks.

Of course, she could refuse, but… aware of her indebtedness, she reluctantly carried out this work.

“At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I’m not charged with blasphemy, let alone gain miraculous powers.”

About a year ago, after much resistance, Alesia was finally sentenced through an unofficial trial to spend some time in this area, focusing on penitence as atonement for her sins.

Atonement, huh.

Who gets to decide that anyway?

“……”

By the time she realized, rumors had already begun to circulate beyond her control.

When negative influences started to spread even to areas she wasn’t familiar with regarding Cariel, Alesia initially suspected Patina.

However, she later learned that wasn’t the case… but eventually, because their paths had crossed in Cariel and they had witnessed the miracle of St. Cariel together, the Baroness Baronen’s family was also affected.

The Empire and the religious order had deliberately stirred things up.

The problem was that only a very few had witnessed the miracle.

Thanks to the intervention of that vampire from the Edenlevan Legion, Filbar Asubna, the matter didn’t escalate further.

The issue was Cariel.

And Alesia, having heard Cariel’s confession, unintentionally learned that he was somehow connected to the Demon Lord, which led to further misunderstandings.

If she hadn’t witnessed the miracle and brought back the holy relic, she might have been in an even worse situation than now.

Ironically, while her position became precarious because of Cariel,

it was actually because of St. Cariel’s sword, which Cariel had given to her, that her punishment was mitigated in another sense. The ways of the world are truly ironic.

Thus, for nearly a year, apart from being unable to wander around, Alesia had been relatively restrained within the religious order without major discomfort, until finally, after much delay, a judgment was passed, and she was sentenced to confinement here for a while.

Rather than a punishment, it was more like a consideration, albeit not really one, telling her to keep quiet.

Normally, being implicated in a Demon Lord case could warrant extreme punishment, but perhaps they couldn’t completely ignore her status as a saint and her previous achievements.

“…That’s not it.”

In fact, it was probably thanks to her intervention.

Saint Ermina.

The Great Saint. A hero and warrior even called the Holy Mother.

And she, Cariel’s mother, had asked for leniency, as Alesia later found out.

That was probably the decisive factor, wasn’t it?

That’s also why the punishment was delayed for so long.

If her fellow saint hadn’t informed her in a matter-of-fact way, she would have continued to wonder why she was receiving such lenient treatment.

Is this another plot by the religious order? Or a trial? A test?

She would have thought.

St. Lehena Island was also famous as a place of confinement for saints who had committed wrongs.

Saints with many twists and turns, especially those who differed in stance from the religious order, were said to inevitably visit this place at least once.

…Didn’t they say that even Ermina had moved those around her by praying here for over 100 days without water or food?

An ordinary person would have collapsed or died before reaching even half of those 100 days.

From that point on, she had already shown her extraordinary nature.

She was about 14 years old at that time, wasn’t she?

The archbishop and the Pope had conspired to tame the saint, but instead of submitting to them and seeking forgiveness, she directly petitioned to God.

And the result was her rescue by warriors.

For her, that incident must have appeared as divine guidance and revelation.

“It’s romantic, I suppose.”

The nun who brought her meals told this story so deliciously that listening to the bits and pieces of the tale was the only pleasure of staying here.

But now, long after that story had ended… there was nothing else to do except ruminate, think, and imagine on her own.

Though she exercised moderately for physical maintenance, due to the poor diet, she naturally lost both fat and muscle.

Not being able to drink alcohol was the most annoying, but… as time passed, even that became inconsequential.

As a result, an extremely repetitive life continued.

Transcription work and prayer.

Training and vague imagination these days.

Not painful, not uncomfortable, but…

A sense of regret, or perhaps confinement.

“I wonder how they endure this so nonchalantly.”

When she saw those so-called saints sitting calmly for over a dozen hours, she really wondered if they were the same species.

She was a person who needed to run and move to feel satisfied.

…Perhaps this confinement was a kind of rebuke, meant to change that temperament.

Compared to the era when malicious religious trials prevailed, she realized she was receiving tremendous preferential treatment.

…Still.

Even if she understood, the stifling feeling was just too much…

Squawk! Squawk!

“A seagull?”

Why would it come all the way here, not even near the coast?

If it were a carrier pigeon, it would make sense, but that cry is definitely a seagull’s, isn’t it?

But when she heard the sound of a beak tapping through the crevice, she became a bit puzzled.

And not long after, a small bundle of papers was tossed in with a thud.

“…?”

Sending reading material, how thoughtful.

Wondering what it was, she untied the string and unfolded the paper to examine its contents.

“Dear Sister?”

How should she interpret this situation, with her vampire friend addressing her with such a greeting?

“Let’s see.”

It contained brief information about things she had missed since coming here.

The content stated that the friends(?) from the Baronen domain had their misunderstandings cleared and were now managing the domain well without major issues.

After parting with Cariel, the writer had written a book about him, which was quite popular in the Empire, and had sent a copy to Alesia, suggesting she check with her monastery friends(?) about it.

As for news about Cariel… there had been no particular news since the major incident in Somern village, but it seemed there might be some recent developments, though the writer wasn’t sure yet and promised to inform her when they learned more.

“……”

She had been trying to forget, but now it all came back to her.

No, in truth, she had been thinking about it all along.

For whom would she have prayed half the day?

It’s obvious.

Not that she wanted to boast about it.

“Still.”

Someone once said that news of someone being alive is the best news.

That seems to be true.

A sense of anxiety she didn’t know she had.

No, an anxiety she had pretended not to know about, seemed to dissipate somewhat.

“I wonder when I’ll see him again.”

He must have grown taller by now, right?

But with the world searching for him and trying to capture him, she was honestly worried about how he would overcome this situation.

“……”

What if I had followed him then?

What if I had held him back instead?

Which would have been the right choice, I’m still not sure.

But if we ever meet again… I’ll ask him outright.

Was it the right answer for me to let you go so easily?

Or should I have insisted on following you then?

I’ll ask.

To myself as well.

And.

To him too.

…But he wouldn’t pretend not to know me later, would he?

Actually, that kind of reaction from him… was what I feared most.

“I wonder how it will be.”

With a silent bitter smile, Alesia continued her transcription work.

Holding the quill pen and scribbling, then dipping the nib back into the ink when it wouldn’t write.

Thus, she continued to work, killing her distracting thoughts.

Until the faint light shining through the building’s crevices disappeared,

and it became a point where she absolutely had to light a candle.

The unbearably boring life of confinement would continue for the foreseeable future.