episode_0020

After killing the man, I dragged his body straight into Philemia’s shabby house. Upon witnessing the scene, Choi Ye-bin seemed slightly surprised, but soon calmly asked me, “Should we prepare for battle?”

“No. No one has seen this guy die, so it should be fine. Judging from the low caliber of the guys guarding this place, even if it gets exposed, we’ll have plenty of time to escape before reinforcements arrive. So, there’s no need to prepare for battle yet. We might not know when they’ll find out he’s dead, but it’ll be a few hours at least.”

Choi Ye-bin nodded and returned to her corner. As I tossed the body to the side, Philemia, who had been sitting, suddenly jumped up and exclaimed, “W-wait… Administrator… Did you… kill him? The administrator…?”

Philemia trembled. Anticipating her reaction, I quickly interjected, “Elcardo was going to kill me first, so I had no choice.”

In truth, Elcardo never tried to kill me. I killed him simply because his callous treatment of Philemia, coupled with his lack of remorse, disgusted me. However, I chose not to disclose this. If Philemia were to learn that someone died because of her humiliation, she would suffer greatly.

I approached Philemia, still trembling uncontrollably. My intention was to reassure her, as she seemed to be experiencing fear. Surprisingly, she came close and grasped my hand with hers. Her severed arm dangled, unable to reach mine, as she murmured, “My prayers… reached… you…”

It was only then that I looked into her eyes. The emotion I sensed in her gaze, while directed at the fallen man’s corpse, was not one of fear, despair, or dread.

What I saw in her eyes was undeniably hope.

This piqued my curiosity about her even more.

“Philemia, I want to ask you honestly because I don’t want to lie. Elcardo mentioned to me that this place is where the holy maidens are sold. Could you tell me why the chosen maidens of the goddess are being treated like this?”

Flimia hobbled on one foot, bowing her head and murmuring to me.

“After hearing my story, if you promise not to abandon me, I will tell you.”

Instantly, Choi Yebin, who was standing beside us, began to scrutinize me intently. She seemed curious about my response.

Without hesitation, I replied, “Even if there’s a story behind it, I’ll help you. That was the promise from the start.”

It was a simple statement, not even worthy of a contract or a stamp, but Flimia, like a believer witnessing a miracle, touched my hand and answered.

“It’s a somewhat obvious and boring story.”

Flimia began to clumsily recount what had happened to her.

— — —

Flimia.

She loved reading books, especially fantasy novels about saintly maidens. The tale of a saint who fervently prayed to God and, through divine power, saved people’s lives. The idea that sincere faith could save others’ lives seemed so romantic and unparalleled.

She admired those who dedicated everything to saving others. Those who fearlessly helped those in need, refusing to yield to any hardship.

That’s why, when she heard the story of being possessed by the goddess Lluasta and receiving her blessing, she was ecstatic. However, the reality was different from what she had imagined.

“Tsk, this is all the divine power I get? Once again, I’m defective.”

Some priests labeled Flimia as defective because her innate divine power fell below certain standards, varying from person to person.

At the Lua Star Temple, Philemia was quite a headache. As a saint chosen by the Lua Star Goddess, she deserved proper treatment, but properly nurturing and developing one saint required an astronomical amount of magic and elixirs, which was costly.

So the priests considered a solution: to make the saint leave the Lua Star Temple on her own. Or if not leaving, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if she were to die, as they could then handle her as a martyr.

That was when Philemia started venturing onto the battlefield.

“Sir Knight, please hold on a little longer. Lua Star Goddess will come to save you.”

The girl was thrown into the battlefield. It was unusual for a saint to be involved in such a brutal place where knights and mercenaries were constantly being injured, torn, broken, and severed, yet people revered her.

“Oh… great saint… how can you bestow such grace upon us?”

“To mere commoners like us, how can you extend your noble hand to us?”

Philemia knew she was exiled here as defective goods, but she did not despair. Everyone on the battlefield wanted her there, and indeed, she could save many lives.

However, the endless war inevitably created countless casualties.

Sadly, Philemia couldn’t perform miracles for everyone. Her sanctity, deemed limited due to her being defective, naturally couldn’t cover all the wounded.

“Saint, my husband is dying. Please… please use your sanctity just once, please, so that my husband won’t die, please…”

Due to the constant influx of people, Philemia’s sanctity flared up completely. Yet just moments ago, a man lay on the ground, a deep stab wound in his abdomen. His wife knelt, pleading for her husband’s life.

Flimia twisted her body, trying to draw out her divine power. However, not even a pinch of divine power came out anymore. After bestowing divine power upon dozens, even hundreds of people, no energy surged within her anymore. Flimia scratched her thigh with her fingernails. She began to tear at her head so forcefully that blood flowed, but still, nothing changed.

Eventually, the man’s breath ceased. An hour passed from the moment he entered the room until the man completely stopped breathing.

Regrettably, the woman, after caressing her cold husband’s body, confirmed his death and wailed towards Flimia, “You could have saved him. You have the ability to save him!”

She couldn’t offer any excuses. The woman’s words were not wrong. If Flimia had been a better saint, possessing more divine power, the man would have lived.

“Am I defective?” Flimia self-blamed, but the woman’s anger did not diminish.

Although it was an enemy knight who killed her husband, for some reason, the woman’s rage turned toward Flimia, who couldn’t save him.

The true tragedy of war, unknown to many, is that the victims begin to blame each other. The reason was simple. Otherwise, they couldn’t endure such terrible suffering. It was a world where one had to pour out anger rather than self-blame, or at least empty their emotions to avoid suicide.

For over an hour, Flimia had to endure the middle-aged woman’s dreadful resentment. On the ground lay the man’s body, while the middle-aged woman’s enraged expression confronted her directly.

“It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been defective…”

That was when Flimia became fixated on belief.

If she sincerely believed in the Goddess Ruasta, she thought her divine power would also increase. Like the beautiful saints in the books, she believed she could bring miracles to countless people.

However, despite praying and longing every day, Flimia’s divine power remained unchanged.

Flimia continued to be dispatched to the battlefield periodically. However, unlike in the early days, there were no longer those who warmly welcomed her. This was because rumors had spread that after using her sacred powers a few hundred times, she would be completely exhausted and unable to do anything.

While being able to recover hundreds of times was valuable, on battlefields where tens of thousands of troops moved back and forth, even if only those wounded suffered injuries, it would amount to thousands, even tens of thousands. Compared to them, Flimia’s sacred powers were extremely limited, and her presence began to become a thorn in the side on the battlefield.

The reason for this was none other than the Saint Allocation System. Only one saint is dispatched to each battlefield. Externally, it was said that this was to evenly distribute the saint’s power among many people, but in reality, it was a ploy by the church to avoid losing a substantial number of capable saints on the battlefield.

In any case, it was mainly the defective goods like Flimia who were usually assigned to the battlefield. Therefore, even if Flimia wasn’t deployed to the battlefield, the frequency and intensity of healing available to the knights would have been the same. But to the knights risking their lives in battle, such things were not important. They simply thought so.

If it had been a different outstanding saint instead of Flimia, many people wouldn’t have died. They openly began to antagonize Flimia.

“If it weren’t for you, but a properly qualified saint, these men wouldn’t have died.”

The knights spat out harsh words to Flimia, who had used recovery magic hundreds of times and was exhausted. Nevertheless, Flimia resented herself for being unable to do anything but watch the dying casualties gather around her.

“Instead of a defective product like you, can’t they replace you with a proper saint? I heard that outstanding saints in the church can heal over thousands of people in a day.”

Flimia also wanted to do that, but she didn’t have the authority. Even if she told the church, the only response she would get was to protect the current battlefield. Just that one word.

Fleamia quietly used her healing magic to restore those who scorned and humiliated her. Even if it was just a few hundred people a day, she felt content knowing she could save them. Hoping that by such efforts, someday people would recognize her.

However, the goddess Luastra did not offer her false hope.

It was on that day, like any other, when the knights of the Kaorelden Empire marched onto the battlefield to wage war. It was on that day when the incident occurred.