Ch.167Black Magic War – 4

When Christine opened her eyes again, she was in the exact same place, at the exact same time, in the exact same state as when she had first entered the memory.

Normally, one would be quite surprised or amazed by this.

“Kuhuk… kek, kuuuuuuugh!”

Instead, the person in question was rolling on the ground, writhing in agony that defied description.

Agonized screams echoed from her wide-open mouth, and tears streamed from eyes that could barely open. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and cheeks.

She wondered if such torment could even be defined by the simple word “pain.” It seemed to require a definition entirely different from any sensation a human could experience.

If Christine, who had built up a tolerance to considerable pain, was writhing on the ground unable to bear it, then it was safe to say that an ordinary human would find it utterly unbearable.

In the past, she had torn out her own tongue to lick the dust from her god’s feet and had ripped off her own arm as an offering to that divine body.

Christine was the type of person who could endure having her body cut or torn apart without so much as blinking. That was why she had never understood humans who writhed in agony when their limbs were torn off.

But the sensation she felt now was different. It felt as if her soul was being ripped to shreds. It was something that could not be expressed in any words, something that perhaps should never be expressed.

She wasn’t certain whether this was Christine’s pain or Christina’s pain. The only certainty was that it was a sensation nearly impossible for a human to endure.

It was a miracle she hadn’t died from shock already. An ordinary person would have died instantly upon tasting even a fragment of this agony.

“Kuuk, heok, heok, huuuuuugh…!”

Because of this, Christine, rolling on the ground enduring the pain, failed to notice the sound of something approaching, stepping on the fallen leaves.

She could barely register that her god had descended from the sky, just like last time.

“Holy Maiden!!!!!!”

The difference from before was that instead of standing calmly on two feet in the forest, she was now writhing in pain, and the boy who saw her called out with a more urgent voice.

“M-my Lord…”

At the god’s urgent voice, Christine barely managed to hold onto her fading consciousness. It felt like discovering an oasis after wandering through a scorching desert.

“You handle this instead! The Holy Maiden’s condition is not good!”

From a distance, a muscular giant came running with thunderous steps. The boy rushed toward Christine, while the giant engaged in battle with the centipede made of human bodies in place of her god.

When the boy reached Christine, he carefully took her in his arms. Strangely, the pain seemed to subside slightly at the warmth from his arms.

No, she shouldn’t find this strange. If her Lord was personally concerned for this unfaithful lamb, how could she not overcome mere pain?

“Holy Maiden, are you alright?!”

“Kehuk, cough…”

Still, pain was pain. Christine couldn’t easily answer affirmatively to her god’s concerned question. For some reason, her throat felt completely blocked.

Her body was intact, so it was a mental issue.

Desperately clinging to her fading life, Christine’s mind struggled to make sense of the situation.

Fortunately, her memory was still intact, enough for Christine to recall what had happened.

She had returned to the point where she first entered the memory, feeling pain as if her soul was being torn apart by immense divine power, and her mind remembered that pain, which was why it hurt so much.

At the same time, she could vaguely understand what the woman who called herself Christine’s ancestor had meant about the impossible task.

It meant making the miracle that had dwelled in Saint Christina’s body completely her own.

“Ah…”

“Holy Maiden, Holy Maiden?!”

In her fading consciousness, Christine had one final thought.

Perhaps it truly was impossible.

Christine rose once again in the forest. Her mind had simply died from the pain. Thankfully, she no longer felt that pain, and she offered a prayer of gratitude to her god.

Now able to think clearly, Christine quietly waited for what would happen next. If she was repeating Christina’s memories, the same events should unfold.

The centipede made of human bodies would appear, her god would descend from the sky to fight it, defeat it, and then ask if she was alright.

So far, everything was as expected. Everything happened exactly as predicted, down to the use of a scroll to burn the centipede’s body.

The problem came next.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for saving me, Devotee.”

As soon as those words left her mouth, Christine froze in shock. Did I just call my god “Devotee”? How dare I?

She wanted to make excuses, but her mouth wouldn’t move anymore. Yet the boy who heard those words responded as if nothing was wrong.

“I only did what needed to be done. I’m relieved that you’re safe, Holy Maiden. If you had been hurt, I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened afterward.”

She couldn’t speak at all. Again, again this sensation.

If the first time she entered the memory, Christine could speak but chose not to due to her thoughts, now the very act of speaking was impossible.

It was strange. She wanted to know what was happening to her.

Christine opened her eyes in the forest once more.

It was the eighth attempt.

And immediately upon waking, she sat down and dry heaved.

“Kuhek! Cough, cough…”

It wasn’t because she was injured. It was because of her self-loathing—hatred for this sinner who failed to show proper respect to her god and let her tongue run loose.

After the second attempt, when she died from mental anguish alone, the third attempt followed the same pattern.

Her god appeared to save Christine, guided her to the temple, received reports from a blood-covered soldier about enemy invasion.

Following her god despite his reluctant expression, heading to the battlefield, watching the deteriorating battle situation, hearing her god’s anguished confession, meeting the priest and receiving the statue.

And then, with a brief request to remember, an overwhelming divine power that even Christine couldn’t handle filled her body.

Christine couldn’t endure it, and after failing seven times, she returned here again.

“My Lord, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

Of course, if that were all, if it were just failure, Christine wouldn’t be loathing herself like this. The problem lay elsewhere.

With each attempt, Christine became less and less herself.

The constraints that had initially just prevented her from saying what she wanted and occasionally made her say things she shouldn’t had grown stronger and broader with each attempt.

Now she naturally referred to her god as a devotee, showed no respect in conversation, and even slightly looked down on him in her speech.

Christine despised herself for this. It shouldn’t be this way, but with each attempt, controlling Christina’s body became more difficult.

“…so that’s why you said it was absolutely impossible. That’s why you said I might die.”

The cause was the fusion of memories.

With each death, with each restart, Christine’s and Christina’s memories were mixing together. That was also why it was becoming harder to control the body.

If she continued to repeat death and return without progress, Christine’s mind would surely be consumed by Christina’s memories.

After being consumed again and again, she would completely lose her sense of self.

Then Christine’s soul would be trapped here and eventually disappear, while her body outside would slowly rot away.

“That cannot happen. That must not be.”

Christine steeled her resolve. Even if she died trapped in these memories, it would be far better than doing nothing while her god was taken from her.

If she was asked to perform a miracle, she would gladly show one. With this determination, she waited for the monster that would soon arrive.

In the distance, she heard the rustling sound of something stepping on fallen leaves.

Christine rose in the forest.

It was right after her twenty-seventh failed attempt.