Chapter 183: Amaranth Monastery (7)

The light filtering through the windows was dyed in various colors depending on the colored paper. Red light streamed in from the window adorned with red paper depicting a demon, and a white shadow entered through the pure white paper featuring an angel.

Andre believed that if he were illuminated by the light, a pure white shadow would surely emerge.

“Priest Andre! Priest Andre!”

Andre recalled his younger days. Young acolytes had once approached him while he was sweeping the courtyard to ask him questions. They were children with clean, transparent eyes, regardless of their colorful hair.

“What is it?”

Back then, Andre smiled broadly enough to wrinkle the corners of his mouth, rummaging in his pocket for candy with one hand. The children knew that asking Andre questions meant getting candy. The children naturally extended their hands and explained what they had witnessed.

“Priest Andre! On the way here, we saw some man being dragged by a huge cart. His face was rough-looking, and people were throwing stones at him. We heard he was a terribly cruel bandit, and he glared at us, which was really scary.”

Andre handed them candy and nodded. He had thick lips, giving him a kindly impression when he smiled. Andre ruffled their hair and said,

“Oh my, that must have been scary. So, what were you curious about?”

The children licked their candy and asked.

“Priest Andre. During training yesterday, a priest said that even bad people can surely become good if they repent their sins through reflection and prayer. But the person we saw yesterday was so cruel and scary-looking, and had committed so many sins… can such a person become good?”

Andre couldn’t help but laugh at the question. It was because this boy was asking the very same thing he had wondered about in his childhood. The two children looked up at him with faces full of anticipation, wondering what answer Andre would give.

Andre said,

“People, you see. Anyone can become a good person if they have the will to be good. Even a terrible criminal, or that bandit you mentioned, can become good if they truly wish to be. If that bandit repented his sins and devoted himself to our temple, he could truly become a good person.”

One of the children raised a hand and asked.

“But, Father. What if a bad person believes that what they’re doing is good? For example, if they think stealing is a good deed and just keep stealing, is that good?”

Andre shook his head.

“No, it isn’t. Every good deed has its standards. A person who believes bad deeds are good will eventually be tainted by evil. That’s why we must follow the scriptures and pray. So that we don’t fall prey to the temptations of evil, God will watch over us.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Did you understand?”

“Yes! Father! I understood!”

“Then, shall we pray together?”

“Yes!”

Andre leaned the broom against the wall and clasped his hands together, facing the two children. The children squeezed their eyes shut, holding their hands tightly together as if begging for forgiveness. Andre quietly recited,

“Oh, Lord. Forgive us the sins we have committed today.”

“Lead the little lambs out of temptation and into Your embrace. May Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

“Look kindly upon the most forsaken souls.”

“May we one day enter Your kingdom and receive eternal life.”

“Reach out Your hand even to the darkest corners of this world.”

The children, having finished their prayer, went away. At that moment, Andre thought he too must continue to hold onto a bright and upright heart, just like those children.

“Priest Andre’s rehabilitation program can be described as a hotbed of corruption!”

When Saint Alexander pointed it out publicly, the priests nodded as if they had been waiting for this moment. Thick lips and a long beard. Priest Andre could only freeze, his face pale. He too had much he wanted to say.

He had never embezzled a single cent.

Weren’t the priests attacking him right now the very hotbed of corruption?

It was true that the corruption within the rehabilitation program was Andre’s fault. It was also true that he had caused controversy by failing to distinguish between the self-reflection and deception of nobles. However, he had never committed fraud to the extent that vile expressions like ‘endpoint of corruption’ or ‘scheme to pocket donations’ were used.

His wealth had not changed since he first became a priest.

He had always donated his assets with the mindset of dedicating everything to God, and his meals consisted of nothing more than dry bread and wine.

“Priest Andre! To receive donations! Aren’t you ashamed to release sinners back into the world?”

Priest Andre looked at Alexander. Andre had heard much about his corruption. Stories of him covering up those who beat people to death, openly accepting bribes, and treating aspiring priestesses like prostitutes. Tales of priestesses who slept with him gaining satisfactory wealth and high positions, living lavishly.

Andre wanted to humbly admit his mistake.

“How can such a person remain in the church! Expel Priest Andre immediately and eliminate this dirty, corrupt program!”

He wanted to repent and reflect on his sins.

“That’s right! Priest Andre holds too much power! He must step down immediately!”

“Considering Priest Andre’s contributions, I think it’s best not to impose separate disciplinary action. Priest Andre, please step down quietly. Before things escalate.”

But what was circulating in this courtroom now was neither justice nor faith. It was merely an overt scheme by the corrupt, with their forked tongues, to oust Andre for their own advancement.

Andre wasn’t politically savvy, but he could see through their disgusting intentions. However, there were things in the world that one couldn’t stop even if they knew. Like being hit by a rock flying faster than human perception. Andre could only lift his head blankly and await the death sentence.

The church had already been seized by Alexander.

There were many people who disliked him holding a high position, given his lack of political acumen.

“Then, this concludes the meeting. Priest Andre, you’ve worked hard. Please leave the church quietly. We will not see you off.”

Andre was ousted by majority vote. Nothing remained for him after decades of service to the church. A worn leather bag and a modest hut. Dry bread and wine.

Andre began to pray even in his humble dwelling.

“Oh, Lord. Forgive us the sins we have committed today.”

He wanted to forgive those people who had ousted him and engaged in corruption.

“Lead the little lambs out of temptation and into Your embrace. May Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

He prayed that they would abandon their wicked thoughts and walk the righteous path.

“Look kindly upon the most forsaken souls.”

He prayed to become someone who saves the destitute and shares in their pain.

“May we one day enter Your kingdom and receive eternal life.”

And then, one day, after praying day and night, Andre encountered a brilliant light. The light, incredibly warm and making his whole body feel languid, made him tremble.

“…..Reach out Your hand even to the darkest corners of this world.”

As he finished his prayer, someone in the light grasped his outstretched hand. Pulling him closer, an elegant voice whispered,

“Avenge.”

“Priest Andre. It is a demon that controls you. Never God.”

Andre lifted his head. Before him stood Lumia, her face resolute. She twisted her lips and glared at him with a fierce gaze. The respectful glances she used to send him when she was an acolyte were nowhere to be seen.

“Shut up!”

Every time Andre spoke, black blood flowed from his body, riddled with holes. Unhealed flesh hung raggedly, and with every movement, the wind whistled between his organs and bones. Andre shouted at Lumia.

“What do you, what do you know…! Are you trying to say I was wrong! I wasn’t wrong! They were wrong!”

Andre’s hand pointed towards the church. Its magnificent structure stood against the sunlight, looking down upon Andre. Andre swung his arms, under the delusion that the cross was looking down at him.

“Ughhhhhh!”

People recoiled following his heavy movements. The cross crumpled and fell to the floor, and Andre vomited blood once more. He flailed and screamed.

“I, I must save everyone! Only I can save them! If not me, then who will save them from evil! Who will lead them to the righteous path! Who can save those wicked souls plotting disaster while hoarding money! Ah! God! God! Grant me strength! Help me defeat them!”

Andre shouted, stretching both hands out forcefully. Lumia gathered her holy power with a bitter expression. Holy magic projectiles flew from all directions. Every time light bullets pierced Andre’s body, smoke rose and black blood splattered.

“I! I am right! They are evil! I am right! Why can’t you open your eyes! I am not the demon! They are the demons!”

Andre reached out once more. His body, tattered with holes, kept regenerating. Watching the burning flesh fall away and new flesh stubbornly grow back, Lumia shook her head.

“Priest Andre. Stop. You weren’t like this.”

“Oh, Lord! Lord! Ahhh! Lord!”

At that moment, a white halo flashed, and the wings on his body vanished. The aura that had enveloped him also disappeared, and his hand, outstretched towards the sky, dropped limply.

Andre blinked, looking at his motionless arm.

Lumia, who had been pouring holy magic, and her companions all cautiously observed the situation.

“Wh-! Wha-!”

The demon guarding him had suddenly disappeared. Andre looked at his body, which no longer regenerated. His body, riddled with holes like a honeycomb, allowed sunlight to pass through, casting a white shadow.

“Ah…! I…! I…!”

Andre lifted his head and trembled.

“Oh, Lord…! Leaving me…! Wh-where…!”

The priest, having lost his power, was helpless. Amidst the fountain-like gush of red blood, Andre knelt and collapsed.

A shadow cast by the sunlight appeared on the floor. It was stained with blood, showing only a deep red.

Lumia whispered into Andre’s ear.

“I promise, Father. I will fulfill your vengeance too.”