Chapter 20: The Silent God Part 2

She clasped her hands together once more.

“Heavenly Father, please hear your daughter’s voice…”

Kneeling down, she spoke in a trembling voice.

“Grant us the strength to overcome evil, and help us to cry out your voice so the world may hear…”

Even though the cold water slowly soaked her knees and feet, the saintess’ prayer continued for a long time.

Finally, when she finished the 27th prayer, she slowly opened her tightly closed eyes.

With a glimmer of hope, she looked around and behind her.

But the surroundings were dark.

There was nothing behind her.

Only the dim, dusky darkness of dawn.

The 27th prayer had failed as well.

“…Why.”

Through gritted teeth, a voice filled with anger slipped out.

“Why!!!”

-Bang!

Unable to contain her fear and anger, she struck the ground with her fist.

“Ouch!”

A sharp pain immediately followed.

Startled, she looked down and saw crimson droplets falling from her right hand, mixed with shards of a broken water bottle.

She quickly gathered her senses and focused her strength on her hand.

Healing a wound of this level was nothing.

After all, she was the one who could heal and invigorate three thousand believers with just a song.

But no matter how much Ergena focused, the bleeding did not stop.

Instead, the stabbing pain became clearer, awakening her to a single, undeniable fact.

“Ah… Ahh…”

She no longer…

Had divine power.

“No…”

The golden shimmer was gone.

Grass no longer grew where her feet touched the ground.

The face reflected in the broken glass was no longer that of a woman overflowing with faith.

Only shattered confidence and a hollow emptiness remained.

‘Why? How?’

Staring blankly at the unhealing wound, she asked the same question once again.

She couldn’t understand.

It had already been four days.

Four days since the Lord withdrew his divine power.

‘Why was there no response?’

Since she was chosen by the Lord at the orphanage as a child, she had never experienced such a phenomenon.

Everywhere she went, divine power had accompanied her.

In her breath, in her steps, in her touch.

Thanks to the overwhelming love bestowed by Him, she had been saved.

That’s why she was revered as a saintess and able to spread His will to many more.

But now, Ergena felt only one thing.

Loneliness.

Her body trembled with the sense of being cut off from the world.

Instead of the Lord’s warmth, like sunlight, a fear as chilling as a midwinter wind enveloped her.

‘Why won’t He answer me?’

She hadn’t done anything wrong.

At least, that’s what she thought.

Since being revered as a saintess, everything Ergena had done was for the Lord.

‘To fulfill His will, I dedicated my entire body.’

She sang until her voice gave out, condemned the wicked, and blessed the paladins who defeated the enemies of the Church.

As a reward, she received enough divine power to share abundantly with those in the fields.

But now, even the fragments of that power were gone.

‘What went wrong?’

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind.

‘Maybe the Lord wants more from me?’

Perhaps He was no longer satisfied with her usual acts of faith.

After all, isn’t it human nature for desires to grow as they are fulfilled?

‘Why would it be different for a god?’

Until now, Ergena had devoted her whole being to praising the Lord.

But now, He must be demanding something greater.

“Yes! That must be it…”

Frantically, she rushed to the drawer and pulled out sacred texts and relics.

She scattered them around her, scribbling scriptures on her forearms and shoulders with a pen.

Just like a true fanatic.

If He wanted something greater, she would give even more of herself.

“Ugh… Ugh…”

Her hands trembled so much that the pen scratched her skin, leaving another wound, but she had no time to worry about it.

Desperation and a faint hope drove her forward.

The sacred texts mixed with the blood oozing from her wounds, staining her skin a dark crimson.

“Haa… Haa…”

Once again, she endured the pain and clasped her hands together.

And she prayed fervently.

“Heavenly Father, I desperately seek your response… Please answer this girl’s call…”

Silence.

“I finally understand. I will gather more followers, offer more donations, and strive to make the Church even greater. Please, answer me…”

Silence.

“Please, your daughter begs you. Just once more, let me feel the Lord’s warmth again. I will devote myself even more to the Church, so please…”

Silence.

The oppressive silence filled her ears, almost suffocating her.

There was no answer from the Lord.

It was as if He had never answered her from the beginning.

“Ahhhh!!!”

Unable to withstand the terrifying stillness, the saintess screamed and threw everything she could grasp.

“Why!? Why!? Why!?”

Books were torn, furniture was broken, and her cries of despair echoed.

Without divine power, she was nothing.

Just an ordinary, pitiful girl trapped in blind faith.

No different from a country girl attending a rural chapel.

The thought of losing everything she had achieved filled her with despair, dragging her through four days of hell.

“Answer me! Why are you doing this to me after I gave you everything!?”

Silence.

Even her final question was met with nothingness.

The only sound left in the tent was the quiet sobbing of the broken saintess.

“Without you… I am nothing…”

The Lord did not answer.

Cruelly, endlessly.

After turning the tent into chaos, Ergena finally managed to calm down, though her breathing remained shaky.

“Haha…”

More than fear, a sense of emptiness overwhelmed her, and she curled up, hugging her knees.

Her bruised and wounded body ached, and unfamiliar pain brought tears to her eyes.

The tent, devoid of golden light and warmth, felt disturbingly strange.

But after that outburst, her mind slowly began to clear.

“It all started… four days ago.”

She traced the events from the beginning.

The first sign of change in her divine power was the Pope’s reprimand.

-Just because your life was extreme doesn’t mean others’ lives must be seen that way.

If the Church regards even the ignorant as enemies,’ will there be anything left but allies and foes?’

Words that struck at her core.

She remembered how her divine power wavered momentarily, stirred by her emotions.

The Pope had often said that Ergena was too extreme.

‘He always said my faith was too intense.’

This time was no different.

Though the words were harsher, the message was the same.

Still, her divine power should have returned once her feelings settled.

It should have…

Until the man who blocked the Church’s way spoke.

“I will not allow the Holy Army to enter.”

The man who defied the Lord’s will.

“Central Minister…”

She whispered his name.

“Nathan Kell.”

A man unlike any she had ever seen, wrapped in a cold, empty darkness.

She couldn’t sense anything from him.

Mana and divine power.

The term “talent manifestation” is a lie.

Moreover, how arrogant it is to openly defy His will.

“…Heresy.”

‘If that isn’t heresy, what else could it be?’

The moment he stamped the entry refusal, she felt it.

The golden aura that surrounded her gradually faded away, replaced by an increasingly oppressive silence.

“It’s because of that man.”

Hatred began to take root.

If he had only followed the Pope’s will, the will of the Divine Lord.

“He should have never stamped it.”

The central administrator blocked our way, and as a result, the grand plan was postponed.

“The Divine Lord must be displeased with that.”

That’s why He punished her.

The saint clenched her teeth.

“That damn heretic…!!!”

To be swayed by a mere puppet of the Evil Cult…

How shameful it is for the Order to be hindered by such a worthless being.

“A heretic deserving of divine punishment dares, dares!!”

Now that she had found the target of her hatred, she clenched her fist.

Or rather, she tried to.

But instead, a sudden thought pierced her mind.

“…Then why hasn’t the central administrator been punished?”

If the Divine Lord were displeased with the central administrator, surely divine punishment would have been dealt.

Not to her, who faithfully follows His will.

And since four days had already passed, if there had been any punishment, news would have spread by now.

Yet, there was no word.

And the one who lost divine power was Ergena.

“It doesn’t make sense.”

Amid the silence, her thoughts began to sink deeper.

“Divine power is…”

Returning to the basics.

Divine power is based on faith.

It is granted as a form of reward by the Divine Lord to those with unwavering belief.

The more sincere, the more devoted, the more noble, the greater the blessing.

And if He finds it pleasing, even more so.

But to completely withdraw that power only means one thing.

It no longer aligns with His will.

In other words, her choice greatly displeased the Divine Lord—almost to the point of direct opposition.

“But… but I haven’t done anything like that…”

The only thing she did was accuse the central administrator of being a heretic.

“Other than that, during the Holy War—”

Wait a minute.

“Holy… war?”

Suddenly, a terrifying thought struck her.

If, by any chance, this Holy War wasn’t His will…

If the central administrator was indeed a talent manifester, and through him, the Divine Lord was trying to stop them…

But they ignored that and pressed on with the Holy War, and that angered the Divine Lord…

“No, that can’t be true.”

The thought was so contrary that Ergena unconsciously shook her head.

It was too dangerous a thought.

As the embodiment of the Divine Order, as the one closest to the Divine Lord’s will, the Pope’s will could not be different from His.

Such a thought would be heresy itself—a dreadful idea that must never be entertained.

“Right… No, this isn’t true. This really isn’t true.”

She shook her head vehemently in denial.

Yet, within her mind, hypotheses and logic clashed violently.

How could blasphemous doubts confront the faith she had preserved for so long?

“But…”

He is the one who weaves coincidence into inevitability.

The process of meeting the central administrator was a series of coincidences layered into inevitability.

And only now did Ergena realize that she hadn’t asked the most crucial question.

“…I never asked if he was a talent manifester.”

She had simply presumed and labeled him a heretic.

A man with no apparent power.

Like a black stain that didn’t fit into the world’s painting, or as if countless colors were overlaid in a single dark hue.

Just because his existence seemed odd, she had condemned him as a heretic.

Just because there are many things one can see and feel doesn’t mean they are all true.

But no matter how she thought about it, it didn’t make sense.

“If that were the case, the Divine Lord would have stopped us long ago.”

‘Why only now, after all this time?’

If it was truly against His will, why not stop them during the Great Holy War fifteen years ago?

But then she remembered when she was revered as a saint.

It was fifteen years ago.

When she was barely five years old.

And when a new saint is hailed, it means the previous saint has lost divine favor.

The records stated that they almost went to war with the Crossroad Kingdom because the Pope tried to enforce his will.

Despite failing once, the Order had continued to prepare for the grand plan.

…And now.

The saint slowly recalled the events of four days prior.

What the Pope had said while trying to persuade the central administrator:

“Would you not make way for the Holy War, central administrator?”

Another attempt to pass through the Crossroad Kingdom.

Another disappearance of divine power.

The saint’s eyes widened.

Like being struck by a hammer, realization dawned on her.

“This Holy War… is not His will.”

Only then did she remember the Pope’s words before leaving on his pilgrimage:

“Because of this Holy War, there will be no enemies left for the Order.”

He never once mentioned “enemies of the Divine Lord.”

Only “enemies of the Order.”

“What have I done…!”

The central administrator was innocent.

He was just a diligent worker.

Even if, hypothetically, he wasn’t a talent manifester, he never claimed to be one.

It was her own assumptions, her own bias, that labeled him a heretic.

Her hands began to tremble.

“I have to stop this! This isn’t His will!”

Without hesitation, she rushed out of the tent.

But before she could, a hand slipped inside.

“Ah, Saint.”

It was one of Ergena’s maidservants.

“I heard screams, so I came to check. Are you alright?”

“Go… go fetch Moham immediately!”

“Right now?”

“There’s no time to waste! This journey must be stopped. It’s not His will!”

But the maid was oddly silent.

“Oh my, what a mess.”

She pushed past Ergena, stepping into the chaotic tent.

Looking at the broken furniture and torn scriptures, she clicked her tongue.

“What a disaster.”

‘This isn’t the time! I’ll go my—’

‘Saintess, why can’t I see your divine power?’ A pause.

‘…What?’

‘Seems your god has abandoned you.’

An unfamiliar voice.

From behind.

Erzena turned slowly.

Where warm brown eyes should have been, violet ones glowed in the tent’s shadows.

Shahal drew a small vial from her robes.

‘Then you have no master left to protect you.’