Ch.7070. The Saint and the Hero (2)

“A hero.”

Someone’s words made everyone in the place turn around. More eyes focused on me. One became two, two became five, five became twenty. The sounds of destruction subsided. Even the shouting disappeared. Those who had contorted their faces as if they would find and kill Blue Orthodox believers became expressionless. I had removed my hood to draw attention, but the effect was too good.

“It’s really the hero.”

“Why are you here?”

I said nothing and just looked at the people. They seemed to regard me as if I were a statue. With the murmuring noise of onlookers, residents slowly began to surround me. The commotion of people chasing Marianne and George from the alley also quieted down. Whether they were apocalypse worshippers or ordinary residents, everyone who had been in Barktins was gathering.

“Ilroy.”

Holy Sword called me. I didn’t answer her. At least now wasn’t the time to rely on her. Beyond the light emitted by the halo above my head, people gathered like shadows. The faces of those who had been invisible without light were becoming visible one by one.

Madmen with bloodshot eyes. Whimpering children, young men with wary gazes, women clutching their stained aprons.

“…Why have you come back here?”

An elderly man asked me. I couldn’t tell them that I had come to save them. Ilroy and the hero party may have succeeded in protecting the world, but they failed to protect Barktins. To these people, for whom Barktins was their entire world, it was no different from failing to protect the world.

“Hero, have you come with those Blue Orthodox Church people to take us and our teacher away?”

I shook my head.

“I didn’t come here to take you away. Perhaps your teacher, though.”

“The teacher isn’t a bad person. He embraced us, told us why we suffered like this. He even told us the path we should take from now on.”

The old man’s voice was hoarse.

“The child who received treatment from this so-called teacher is dying. People are losing interest in living. Even now, there must be people trembling in fear because of your actions.”

I told the residents clearly that it was wrong. I’m not sure if they would listen.

“They are people who long for the death of others. You must never trust them.”

“…Now you’re trying to take away even the place where we can rest our hearts.”

“The teacher and his teachings are wrong. Instructing people to harm others is not teaching.”

I spoke slowly and clearly so that the residents could hear.

“Even if that is the only place where you can rest your hearts, I will say that it is wrong. And I will try to pull you away from there.”

“…For us, reality, this world.”

The old man began with a trembling voice.

“It disappeared that day. That resentment and anger only piled up. The world celebrated this. And when calamity covered the world again, people like us didn’t appear.”

The old man let out a hollow laugh. It was a rough, dry laugh like sandpaper scraping the depths of his lungs.

“Only we became madmen. The north, hero, you protected it too well. So while the whole world rejoiced and celebrated the defeat of the calamity, Barktins and we disappeared from memory, remaining in the past, becoming lunatics who resent the world in pain…!!”

The old man spoke with a voice that seemed about to break at any moment. Someone beside him supported the old man as he staggered while speaking.

“Call us hypocritical. Denounce us as narrow-minded and petty. We won’t care at all. Just know that rather than irresponsible words vaguely telling us to look to hope, the words saying that this outcome we had to accept was something that would eventually happen to everyone comforted us more.”

The old man exhaled with a wheezing sound. I lowered my head as the old man sat down.

“…It doesn’t matter anymore. Hero, whether you massacre the people here or leave them be.”

It’s something I don’t know. It’s pain I don’t understand. But I couldn’t cover my ears and retreat just because I didn’t know. It’s not Ilroy’s fault, nor Aryen’s or Isis’s fault. But innocence doesn’t mean irresponsibility. I stared at the residents of Barktins for a long time, as if in a staring contest. And then I said something they probably never wanted to hear.

“I’m sorry.”

People’s eyes wavered. Some openly contorted their expressions.

“I wasn’t good enough to properly protect this place.”

And then, laughter erupted from below. It was an evil god worshipper who had been silent until now. He looked at me while dripping blood from his mouth.

“Magnificent, magnificent!! After driving this place to this state, you come back and all you do is offer empty apologies. It’s ridiculous.”

I ignored him. The worshipper continued laughing, foaming blood at the mouth.

“What an ugly sight, hero!”

But the worshipper’s words didn’t seem to reach the residents’ ears. The residents were emotionally agitated. The main feelings were anger, resentment, and emptiness.

“…If you apologize like that.”

A woman’s voice was heard.

“What are we supposed to do? Destroyed homes, land, dead family members. They don’t come back with an apology. And apologizing, bowing your head shamelessly, is that treating us like fools? Are you trying to make yourself look like a good person while making us look like an ugly group throwing insults at someone who apologizes? Fine. I’ll show you how ugly we can be.”

Whoosh.

The woman threw the bucket she was holding at me. The bucket thrown by her frail arm didn’t fly far and bounced off my arm, rolling on the ground. They probably know deep in their hearts too. That all this didn’t happen because of any one person’s fault.

“Apologizing… apologizing… I…”

The woman then collapsed as if her legs had given out and began to cry. Then, people who had been still changed their expressions in various ways and glared at me. Dozens, hundreds. Thousands of resentments pierced me like arrows and spear blades. I took small breaths and observed each of their emotions.

“…Why do we have to be like this?”

The voices of people were heard. A small stone fell at my feet.

“Why do only we have to suffer like this!!”

Objects flying toward me began to increase. Stones. Wooden boards, buckets, pipes. I didn’t defend against the flying objects and took the hits. I didn’t strengthen my body. I didn’t erase the halo floating above my head.

Thud. Thud. Objects hitting my body gradually increased. My clothes were torn. My arms were bruised. The skin on my shoulder was torn, and a bucket flew into my forehead. A stone hit my head and passed by.

“How did you protect that place? Why couldn’t you protect us?”

Thud. Thud. As painful as the flying objects were their words. It would be deception to take on something that wasn’t my responsibility, and perhaps it would be imposing another sin on them. But if I didn’t even apologize like this, the words of those who deny the world would be justified. The words that this place was abandoned would become true. I couldn’t allow that. Because I will never abandon them again.

“My family. My hometown…!”

Thud. Thud. As the wounds on my body increased, so did the people’s anger. The flying objects were resentment and anger. It hurts. The wounds they suffered hurt this much.

“Who’s going to give it back…”

My forehead was torn and bruises increased. It hurt more when objects hit the same spot again.

“Why… Why!! Why did we have to end up like this!!”

A stone the size of a fist flew toward my head. The stone hit the torn part of my forehead once more. The wound burst and blood flowed down. It hurt. I took a step back.

“Why. Why.”

Empty questions asking why were floating in the air. Anger was turning into tears one by one.

==

Ilroy was receiving a shower of countless miscellaneous items. For some reason, Ilroy didn’t seem to be trying to protect his body. Isis remained frozen, watching Ilroy from among the crowd. With a glowing halo floating above his head, his eyes calmly looking at people. He was being hit by wooden blocks, metal pipes, and stones.

“Ilroy…”

Daphne’s face contorted. Having exhausted her magical power, she could only helplessly watch Ilroy without even the strength to walk. Anger filled Daphne’s fist. Her nails dug into her flesh, causing blood to flow.

Isis tried to exhale, but her breath caught in her throat and wouldn’t come out. It felt as if all the holes in her body were blocked, preventing anything from being expelled. Emotions and thoughts were trapped in her head, swirling around.

“Why did this place have to be destroyed!”

It wasn’t Ilroy who should receive that resentment. If it had been his choice, he might have really saved this place. The person who should stand there and take those stones was herself alone. Isis bit her lip. It hurts. The fact that those words are directed at Ilroy hurts. It would hurt even more if he took those words directly. Because he wanted to protect this city until the end.

Thud.

Ilroy was already in tatters. His clothes were half in rags, and his head was cracked with blood streaming down. Isis unconsciously pushed through the people and moved forward. Pushing people aside, she moved forward. Ilroy’s head turned toward Isis. Ilroy’s expression of shock. Isis ran to block him, and a discordant cry was heard from the crowd.

“Die!!”

It was a cry that was too different from the people’s resentment and anger. And Isis saw something shiny flying straight toward her. The object was flying directly at the space between Isis’s eyebrows without a margin of error. So this is how it ends. This is how I receive my punishment. Isis closed her eyes.

Thud.

There was no pain. Isis opened her eyes in confusion. Blood was dripping in front of her eyes. It wasn’t Isis’s blood. Isis blinked dazedly and raised her head. She felt someone’s hand supporting her back.

“It seems there’s still someone hiding.”

A dagger had pierced Ilroy’s hand. Isis took a small breath when she saw the inverted pentagram engraved on the dagger’s hilt. Ilroy slowly rose from his place and looked at the crowd with sharp eyes.

“George, Marianne!”

At Ilroy’s cry, two shadows sprang from the alley. There was someone trying to run away through the crowd. But he was soon caught by George and Marianne rushing toward him, and let out an ugly scream. Ilroy stared at the spot with angry eyes, then turned his head back to the people.

“No… I never meant to harm the Holy Maiden…”

The people were terrified. They must have known too. That if the hero wanted to, he could harm all of them with his eyes closed. But Ilroy doesn’t do that. He soon relaxed his expression and pulled the dagger out of his hand, tucking it into his belt. Blood dripped from Ilroy’s left hand.

“I know.”

An awkward moment of silence followed. Isis stood up with Ilroy’s support. She needed to correct the people’s misunderstanding. They don’t know what happened that day, the day of the battle with the Kraken.

“Everyone. I have something to tell you.”

Isis opened her mouth, and people turned their heads toward her. And, Ilroy quickly covered Isis’s mouth and shook his head. Isis tried to push Ilroy’s hand away, but Ilroy was adamant.

Why? Why won’t you let me clear up your misunderstanding? It’s not pain you should bear. It’s not resentment, anger that you should receive.

“Please.”

Isis heard Ilroy’s brief words and grabbed his arm, kneeling down. No matter how much strength Isis applied, Ilroy wouldn’t let her speak. At that moment, a door burst open from a corner of the alley, and footsteps approaching were heard.

“Holy Maiden!!”

It was the worst, the worst timing. A man was approaching the crowd with his son. The child was rubbing his eyes sleepily, then opened them wide in surprise at the sight of so many people gathered.

“I wondered where you suddenly went, only to find you in this situation…”

People murmured as they saw the man’s healthy child.

“…But until just recently, your son was…”

The man shook his head and nodded toward Isis.

“The Holy Maiden just healed him. She removed that damned ‘teacher’s’ pseudo-sorcery that you were talking about, and healed him perfectly like this.”

The man spoke appealingly to the people.

“Please, open your eyes and see clearly. They are only trying to use us. Don’t be deceived by words that bewitch your mind, and see who truly wants to help us.”

A commotion arose. Isis looked at the people’s debate with a dumbfounded expression. They seemed to have forgotten her story. People were divided into two factions and arguing fiercely. Those who insisted that the ‘teacher’s’ words were right until the end, and those whom the man began to persuade one by one. The belief in heresy was gradually beginning to crumble, but the truth Isis wanted to tell was being buried more and more.

“Don’t speak.”

Ilroy’s voice was heard. Isis’s hand gripping Ilroy’s arm trembled. The situation was already like this. Isis understood that she could no longer tell the truth. When Isis released her strength from her hand, Ilroy finally removed his hand from Isis. Her body was losing strength. Isis collapsed on the ground, exhausted.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Ilroy picked up Isis. Isis helplessly looked at the people while being carried in Ilroy’s arms. That scene seemed to claw at Isis’s heart again.

“Hero.”

The man’s voice was heard. He seemed considerably agitated by the fact that the person who had been helping him was the hero. The man looked at Ilroy with complicated eyes, then sighed.

“Go with the Holy Maiden.”

Ilroy nodded. And carrying Isis, he walked into the crowd. The wave of people parted, making way for Ilroy, but their gazes were not kind. Still resentment and anger. And some sympathy toward Isis. Isis couldn’t bear to meet those gazes and turned her head, burying her forehead in Ilroy’s chest.

“Never show your face again.”

“We won’t forget this. Live with the guilt of not being able to protect this place.”

People threw words. Ilroy was taking all of them as they were thrown. Isis trembled and grabbed Ilroy’s collar, then struggled to raise her hand over Ilroy’s ear.

“Those are words I should hear. You don’t need to hear them.”

Ilroy shook his head. And, he gestured for her to lower her arm.

“These are words I should hear.”

Ilroy said so and steadily moved his steps. People’s criticism continued to fly. Isis lowered her face again, grabbing Ilroy’s collar. The bloodied hero was moving his steps with a calmness that was painful to see.

Squeeze.

Strength entered Isis’s hand. Tears she had tried to hold back poured out. Guilt, remorse, regret. In that whirlpool of emotions, Isis desperately held onto Ilroy.

“I’m sorry…”

Words came out of Isis’s mouth with a sob. Like a child confessing sins to parents, Isis cried and confessed her wrongdoing, begging for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry…”

Signs of dawn began to appear in the dark sky. The hero said nothing and just walked, while the Holy Maiden cried in the hero’s arms, endlessly repeating words of apology.