episode_0212

***

Contrary to what Lumen said, Maria did not adapt to daily life.

daily. What is it?

Maria asked a fundamental question.

Wasn’t every day spent with the saint a daily routine for me?

She asked herself as she polished the blade of her greatsword.

As she wraps the old cloth around the sword, she thinks back to the time she spent with the saint.

When I knock and enter the room, I see a sleepy saint writhing in bed.

Then she removes the curtain covering the window and looks back at him, bathed in the brilliant sunlight.

The face of a saint still in a dream.

After staring at his sculpture-like face for a moment, I clear my throat and call him.

Saint. Saint.

It’s time to wake up, saint.

When you call him like that, he moves a few times under the cozy blanket and then slowly opens his eyes.

Mysterious blue eyes.

The saint, who identified himself with blurred vision, spoke with a smile like the soft warmth of spring sunlight.

Good morning, Sister Maria.

Ah, what a warm sound this is.

Her hands tighten as she wraps the cloth around the sword.

While the saint slowly relaxes his still-sleeping body, Mary prepares water for him to wash.

And then leaves the room for a moment.

It was a 10 to 15 minute wait, but to her it felt longer than any other event or ritual.

If you wait endlessly for his voice, you can hear his voice inside the room.

We are ready, Sister Maria.

Then she brightly answers “yes” and follows him half a step behind as he heads toward the restaurant.

That’s Maria’s daily life.

Interrogating people imprisoned in a smelly dungeon probably isn’t part of your daily routine.

Maria thought so.

She remembers the rainy night.

The saint was disappointed in me.

The stairs to the dungeon were long.

After going down for a while, she felt the musty smell of the basement.

Now, the feelings I had before meeting the saint, which I thought I had forgotten, come back to me.

she thinks

We must return the saint’s heart.

The prisons were illuminated by dim light.

What was unusual was that there were no iron bars in the prison here.

Because it was both a prison and an interrogation room.

Maria opened the door to the assigned interrogation room.

A criminal is seen sitting on a cold iron chair.

“Ugh… Uh huh….”

A man with his limbs tied to a chair trembles at the sight of Maria.

This was because it was very clear what the appearance of the Inquisitor meant.

“Juan Daris”

The name of the sinner comes out of Mary’s mouth.

“Confess your sins when God’s mercy rests on you.”

Maria proceeded with the familiar procedure.

“Well, I… really… don’t know! It’s true! Judge!!”

The criminal cried out to her.

That desperate cry rang through the interrogation room.

“…….”

Maria closed her eyes for a moment. The chatter of a sinner who knew nothing was annoying.

Oh my god. Forgive this sinner.

Maria walked to the wall.

The sinner’s eyes followed her and trembled when he saw the tools hanging on the wall.

“Uh… uh…! Please…!”

A hammer and a rusty nail making a clanging sound are taken out of the box.

The man trembles. A foul-smelling liquid flows down his lower body and onto the floor.

Maria frowned for a moment, but then took out a nail from the box as if she was used to it.

“Please, please, please… Oh God, please… Jebaaagggaaaga!!!”

With one blow, the man’s prayers turned into screams.

Maria drove a nail into the first joint of her index finger.

The screams of the beast spread throughout the interrogation room.

Maria brought her face close to the man writhing in pain.

The man’s face was reflected in green eyes with dark shadows.

“The devil is still in your eyes.”

The cruel Inquisitor decided.

Inquisitors are weaker than Paladins.

“I will tell you. I’ll tell you everything. My sins… all my sins… ughaaa!!!”

A nail is driven into the first joint of the middle finger.

The bound man’s body was shaking, and unidentifiable secretions were flowing from his mouth.

Inquisitors are weaker than Paladins.

“Ughhh!!!”

Another nail struck on the first joint of the ring finger.

Inquisitors are weaker than Paladins.

That is correct.

The Inquisitor does not need force to subdue the target.

All that was needed was force to make the target open his mouth.

“I miss you saint.”

Mary muttered forlornly, looking like she had never shown the saint.

In front of her, a man who had fainted from pain was periodically twitching, testifying to his survival.