Ch.278Episode 12 – The Strongest Mage in History

The sunset fades.

The sun settling by the window distorts the edge of the sky. A dim half-moon hangs in the coolly tinted eastern sky, and clusters of twinkling stars, like eyes opening from sleep, are densely embedded in the navy-colored heavens.

Lucia, who had been scribbling with a quill pen, suddenly furrowed her brow.

Sunlight passing through the glass window shattered like waves rushing onto a sandy beach, and the faint light reflected in the half-empty inkwell tickled Lucia’s eyes.

Having transcribed passages from the Bible since dawn until now, Lucia rested her chin on her hand while still holding the quill pen, watching the sun setting over the western mountains.

Episode 12 – The Most Powerful Magician in History

The past three years spent in the north had been quite special.

Having lost her parents and receiving help from Cardinal Raul, she had safely been ordained as a priest and assigned to her first region.

Three New Years and three major feast days. The small festivals and commemorative days were too numerous to count.

The three years had elevated her once-immature healing arts to a higher level, transformed a young pilgrim into a member of the clergy, and provided sufficient time for a girl who couldn’t do anything without others’ help to become an adult.

There had been many difficult times, and sometimes experiences she never wanted to repeat, but Lucia never turned away from or denied the three years she spent in the north.

However,

When asked, ‘Can you truly call yourself an adult?’ Lucia found herself unable to answer.

“…”

Everyone called her a saint, but in her own mind, she was far from sainthood.

She was certainly inferior to the High Priest who could have ascended to the ranks of saints but ultimately refused the position and wandered the world, and even more so to her sister who received revelations, heard the voices of angels, and wielded the power of the Holy Spirit.

Then if asked whether she was an adult (成人), that wasn’t the case either.

Of course, legally she was of age, but Lucia never considered herself an adult.

The catalyst was this morning’s battle in the underground waterway.

Other clergy might praise it as a great achievement, but the fact remained that she had been defeated. In the end, she had lost there and been driven to the brink of death.

She had even nearly dragged along an innocent man who wasn’t even clergy.

Perhaps it was due to a lack of ability, or a lack of will, or simply terrible luck,

But Lucia considered it all her mistake. And ultimately, she had voluntarily entered into disciplinary confinement.

Regardless of the process, the fact that she had made a mistake remained unchanged. As did the fact that she had put several people in danger.

By her own judgment, she was merely someone who could barely take care of herself, let alone others.

When her thoughts reached this point, as Lucia gazed at the sunset outside the window, one thought naturally came to mind.

No matter how she looked at it, she didn’t seem to be cut out to be a saint.

“…”

Though she never voiced it aloud due to awareness of others’ perceptions, she had always thought so.

She was obedient to the life given to her, and she had a sense of duty as a priest before being a saint, but she wasn’t someone who could take responsibility for herself.

And someone who cannot take care of themselves should never be in a position to take responsibility for others.

Because a person who cannot handle their own fate cannot handle the fate of others. Someone who lacks the capacity to care for themselves has neither the ability nor the qualification to be in a position of responsibility for others.

From that perspective, she who had made the mistake of falling victim to a necromancer’s curse, putting herself in danger and dragging innocent colleagues into dangerous situations, was equally unqualified to ascend to sainthood.

So what should she do?

Lucia fell into deep contemplation.

If she refused the position of saint, it would cause a major stir both externally and internally.

While there had been cases where canonization was canceled due to flaws discovered during examination or the individual’s refusal to become a saint, there had never been a case in all of history where someone suddenly refused sainthood right before the canonization ceremony.

It would certainly put the bishops and cardinals who supported and helped her in a politically awkward position. Even though she had little connection to politics, she wasn’t so obtuse as to be unaware of this.

Her sister Veronica would also be troubled. Always acting as if she would never let Lucia go from her embrace, she would surely worry first about such a sudden decision.

And the same would probably be true for her colleagues.

And also for that person who had trusted and followed her.

“…”

Overwhelmed by worries that came like waves crashing onto a beach, Lucia sat quietly at her desk with her head bowed. She couldn’t even look directly at the sunset that tickled her face.

She simply couldn’t bring herself to do so.

-Knock. Knock.

Lucia came to her senses when the sun was halfway below the horizon.

At the sudden knock, she set down her quill pen and rose from her seat. There was no time to tidy her desk as she had to greet a visitor at this late hour.

Walking briskly to the door, Lucia cleared her throat briefly, then placed her hand on the doorknob and asked,

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

The moment the answer came from beyond the door, Lucia could feel her shoulders stiffen.

It seemed it wasn’t just her shoulders that froze. At the completely unexpected voice, Lucia momentarily couldn’t think at all.

She regained her senses only when a slightly puzzled voice came from beyond the door.

“Could you open the door?”

Coming to her senses, Lucia quickly undid the latch. Then, carefully and very slowly, she opened the door.

Through the gradually widening gap, a figure appeared. When the door opened enough for their eyes to meet,

A small exclamation escaped Lucia’s lips.

“Ah…”

Honestly, thinking about it later,

The expression she wore at that moment probably made her look a bit foolish.

*

Lucia, who had been standing dumbfounded while gripping the doorknob, opened the door with a greeting.

“W-Welcome.”

“It’s been a while, Saint. Though I suppose it hasn’t really been long since we saw each other this morning?”

“There’s no need to be so formal… It’s just the two of us right now.”

She’s telling me to be comfortable and not stand on ceremony.

If it had been some bishop or cardinal saying that, I would have muttered thanks and then inwardly scoffed at the old man’s pretentiousness, but unfortunately, the person saying it was none other than Lucia.

As far as I know, Lucia is a person without pretense.

Unlike Veronica or Francesca, she doesn’t have dozens of snakes in her belly—meaning she’s not duplicitous.

She’s probably sincere about telling me not to stand on ceremony between us.

“If the Saint says so, whatever makes you comfortable. Have you had dinner?”

“Not yet.”

“I brought you a meal. Please eat before it gets cold.”

I entered Lucia’s room carrying the tray.

St. Basilius Cathedral was quite large, befitting its long history, with separate buildings housing dining halls and dormitories for clergy and monks.

According to Veronica, the diocese had been expanding it in various ways for hundreds of years.

It’s hard to grasp just how excellent the church’s financial management must be if they can erect several ornate marble buildings with donations collected from the north.

For reference, Veronica occupies the best room here. In contrast, Lucia’s room is much smaller and plainer than Veronica’s.

A single bed. A personal desk. One drawer and one chair.

That’s it. Really, there’s nothing else.

“I’ll put the meal here on the desk… Oh, there’s no empty space.”

As I was about to place the meal on the desk that caught my eye, I stopped when I saw it was covered with papers.

“Ah, give that to me. I’ll put it down.”

Lucia reached out for the food. She pulled out the slightly withdrawn chair and placed the dish on it.

As I was trying to organize the papers into one place, though I didn’t know what they were, I discovered their identity through the densely written text I glimpsed.

They were passages from the Bible.

“Were you transcribing?”

“Yes. Just… doing a bit of transcription.”

Lucia, who was bending over to place the food on the chair, brushed her hair behind her ear and let her words trail off.

For something she claimed to have done “just a bit,” there were quite a lot of papers. It was comparable to the amount of paperwork I process every day at work, which is no small amount.

I spoke to Lucia, who was standing awkwardly.

“You’re not very talented at lying, Saint.”

“…Pardon?”

When I heard her bewildered response, I turned around and smiled wryly.

“I said you’re really bad at lying. I understand you’ve been in disciplinary confinement since morning, so how could this be just ‘a bit’ of transcription? Isn’t that right?”

“…”

It seemed to be an unexpected response, as Lucia was at a loss for words. With her eyes wide open and lips slightly parted, she clutched the cassock covering her thighs and bowed her head deeply.

She seems embarrassed that her lie was caught.

After closing the lid of the open inkwell to prevent the ink from drying out, I playfully asked Lucia, who remained with her head bowed.

“Was the confinement enjoyable?”

From her mouth, hidden by her hair, came a voice that seemed to shrink inward.

“…That’s not what confinement is for.”

“Of course not. But discipline is discipline, and dinner is dinner, isn’t it? Don’t just stand there, please sit down.”

Lucia’s head nodded slightly up and down. It looked like she was nodding. Judging by her reddened earlobes, she seemed too embarrassed to speak properly.

Lucia, who had finally raised her head, began looking for a place to sit for her meal. But there was no suitable spot.

The thick, heavy Bible and hundreds of sheets of paper completely dominated the desk, and there was no conference table or small table like those commonly found in hotel rooms. Although it was a bit cramped, there was no place to put the food except on the chair.

In the end, Lucia decided to place the food on the chair, with the mindset of someone eating in a bathroom. She sat on the bed, using it as a chair since the floor was dirty.

An ironic situation unfolded where the chair became a table and the bed became a chair, but Lucia wasn’t composed enough to think that far at the moment.

She was hesitating with the food in front of her, watching me nervously like a child who had been scolded by their parents and was now sitting at the dining table.

“…”

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“…I will. But.”

“…?”

I waited a moment thinking she had something to say, but no answer came.

Lucia, who had been glancing at me intermittently, didn’t speak for a while.

She fixed her gaze on the floor with what seemed like a contemplative expression, then took a small deep breath and opened her mouth.

“Do you have somewhere you need to be right now?”

“I have no other plans for today.”

“Then please sit beside me. Your legs must be tired.”

She patted the spot next to her with her hand. While I appreciate the thought, the fact that the indicated place is a bed makes me feel somewhat unsettled.

I sat down beside Lucia as she requested. The bed creaked and tilted slightly under the weight of two people, but fortunately, there was no major issue.

“Please eat comfortably. Don’t mind me.”

“…Alright.”

Lucia joined her hands and closed her eyes for a pre-meal prayer. A soft prayer sound continued briefly and concisely.

After finishing her prayer, Lucia opened her eyes and picked up a spoon in one hand.

I thought she would eat the rice porridge now, but Lucia just sat still, holding the spoon and staring at the bowl.

“…”

“…Saint?”

Were you not going to eat?

Just as I was about to ask that, Lucia put down her spoon and carefully pushed the chair forward.

Then she said she wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t eat.

“I’m not hungry right now. I’m sorry you came all the way here to bring this for me.”

“No, well…”

What can I do if she’s not hungry?

“Please eat later if you feel like it.”

I simply nodded lightly without adding anything else.

Having declined dinner, Lucia sat with her hands neatly folded on her knees, staring at the floor, while I watched her profile.

“You seem to have something on your mind.”

“…”

Though she remained motionless with her gaze fixed on the floor, I could clearly see her head move slightly.

Lucia’s lips quivered.

“I have a few concerns.”

“I’m guessing they’re related to today’s events.”

“Yes…”

“Would you consider telling me about them?”

“…”

Lucia’s gaze shifted from the floor to me. As she turned her head to look at me, she let out a small groan and began to share her worries.

Lucia said:

“I don’t know if I did well. No, I don’t know if I’m doing well.”

Her concern was not a trivial matter. From last night until dawn this morning, Lucia had been keeping the events that unfolded bottled up inside her.

The priest said:

“I fell for the devil’s temptation and couldn’t control my emotions. As a result, the exorcism failed, and we all fell into danger. It was my mistake.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes.”

The saint answered. Her tone was resolute.

She didn’t look at me but stared straight ahead—no, at the floor. With eyes that seemed slightly lacking in confidence despite her firm voice.

“It was clearly my mistake. Apart from the failed exorcism, falling into the trap and involving you in this matter were all things I did.”

“You can address me more casually.”

“…Alright. If that’s what you want, I’ll call you that way.”

Lucia continued to list her mistakes for a while after that.

Not subduing the demon quickly enough, failing at the exorcism, being neutralized by the necromancer, not noticing the trap, not having the pendant that conceals magical energy ready in time, involving me in this matter, and so on.

Some of these weren’t solely her fault but mine as well, yet Lucia considered even those to be her transgressions.

“It was all my oversight. I’m sorry.”

Lucia’s head dropped.

“To be honest, I now doubt whether I truly deserve to be a saint.”

She even said she didn’t qualify to be a saint.

If I had to name the second most positive person in our group after Camilla, I would confidently say Lucia. But the Lucia before my eyes now was not positive at all.

Her usual image was nowhere to be seen, and she was acting as if she were being chased by something. Just like a recluse who wakes up late in the afternoon and holes up in a dark room drinking soju.

I sighed softly and carefully began to speak.

“There’s no need to think that way.”

“No. No matter how I think about it…”

“Didn’t you say humans aren’t perfect?”

“Pardon…?”

“Didn’t you tell me before that humans weren’t created perfectly? That God created humans imperfectly.”

Lucia, who had been staring at the floor, raised her head.

I met her gaze. A pair of blue eyes, wide open, held my image.

“Didn’t you say God created humans imperfectly?”

“Yes… that’s true, but.”

“Even the popes, who are God’s representatives according to church law, had many flaws. When even the most distinguished among the clergy just sit there staring at their empty crowns, why are you making such a sad face?”

“…”

“Everyone makes mistakes at least once in their lives. Do you think the great figures recorded in history were extraordinary from the beginning? They grew up drinking their mother’s milk and wetting their beds just like me.”

Lucia silently looked at me, and I added in a nonchalant manner:

“So don’t say such dispiriting things.”

“…”

“If you don’t become a saint, Lucia, who else in this world would qualify for sainthood?”

At least Lucia is more suited to be a saint than Veronica. I mean, if Veronica—who regularly skips work to smoke in cafes or gets caught frequenting gambling dens—can be revered as a saint, what’s stopping Lucia?

“If you really can’t handle it, pass it on to someone else.”

“…Are you suggesting I transfer the position of saint to someone else?”

“If that’s possible.”

“To whom would you suggest I transfer it…?”

“Well, that’s…”

I scratched the back of my head and blurted out whatever came to mind.

“Maybe a man who cut off his testicles and suddenly turned into a woman one day?”

“…Do such people exist in this world?”

“How would I know? But if you look hard enough, there might be at least one.”

A small smile appeared on Lucia’s lips. As if finding it absurd, she smiled.

After smiling briefly, she turned her gaze back to the floor. The sunset light passing through the window tinted her cheeks and ears reddish.

Golden hair as if melted gold had been poured into it, and blue eyes filled with melancholy. Flushed cheeks and ears.

Under the pouring sunset, Lucia’s figure, seemingly lost in thought, was as beautiful as a watercolor painting.

“I was joking. Don’t take it too seriously.”

“…Yes.”

“Are you feeling a bit better?”

“Thanks to you, a little.”

It’s improved.

In the room where the sunset descended.

After that conversation, we sat silently on the bed, watching the pouring sunset.

It was only a few minutes later that I noticed the presence of another hand overlapping mine on the back of my hand.

*

In the room where the sunset descended.

Against the backdrop of the pouring orange sunset, a cleric reading documents raised her head.

The sun is setting.

“…”

The cleric’s eyes fell on the clock. The hour hand was vigorously racing toward sunset, following the sun setting over the western mountains.

“How did time pass so quickly?”

Putting down her fountain pen, the cleric stretched in her seat.

The massive shadow flickered once in the sunset light coming through the window. As she slightly twisted her waist, the rounded shadow at her chest instantly darkened the room.

“Ugh… my shoulder.”

Veronica tapped her shoulder with her clenched fist.

Carrying weights daily had been making her shoulders stiff for quite some time. No matter how meticulous she was about health management compared to doctors (she would end a night of drinking with just one prayer the next day), there was nothing she could do about shoulder pain.

“…”

After lightly loosening her shoulders, Veronica glanced at the door.

The closed door still showed no signs of opening. She had told him to come out of the room before sunset, but since he hadn’t returned yet, all sorts of thoughts crossed her mind.

“Hmm. Where is that person and what is he doing now…”

After closing the cap of her fountain pen to prevent the ink from drying, Veronica left the room, tapping her shoulder, in search of someone.