Chapter 32 – Afterword (6)
Makarov was absent-minded for a long time.
‘He was like a storm.’
The hero who saved the saintess threatened the remaining bishops to come back tomorrow and left.
The bishops did not inflame any resistance.
It was because of his inaction.
Wouldn’t you be treated as badly as Cardinal Marvlov or Bishop Ronin by making fun of your mouth?
If we were to categorize the hero as a category, it would be closer to a natural disaster than a human.
No one wants to open their mouth openly and incur a grudge against a natural disaster.
That doesn’t mean Einstein forgives them, though.
Anyway, he left with Arya.
I left, but none of the people present thought to make a hasty move.
That’s why the hero’s intervention was shocking.
Makarov looked at the holy sword in his hand in a bewildered state.
He was told that in the last few decades he was a sword that had not chosen a champion.
Why is such a sword in his hand?
The warrior gave
‘I have this.’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ll take it when I come tomorrow, so you can take care of it. It’s a noisy sword.’
‘… Yes?’
‘Goes.’
A noisy sword?
Makarov looked at the holy sword.
I can’t hear any words and it’s just quiet, but what’s the noise?
It was a word I could hardly understand.
It is said that the holy sword can communicate with its owner for generations, but maybe that ability was demonstrated.
If so, I have more doubts.
Why did he entrust the holy sword to himself when he was even recognized as the owner?
Einstein thought that the ‘Holy Sword’, which was chattering wildly, would interfere with Aria’s nursing, so he entrusted it to Makarov, but he had no way to know.
Makarov checked the basement ceiling.
There was a huge hole in the ceiling, which was made by Einstein.
I’d like to think I’m going to have a hard time doing the repair work.
I could see the twinkling stars and the black night sky through that hole.
‘… Shall we go back?’
It was the moment to take a step forward.
“… Bishop Ronin.”
A distraught voice was heard.
Makarov turned his gaze to the source of the voice.
A nun with her pale purple hair was holding Bishop Ronin by the wrist of her supposed body.
‘Sister Gina?’
Sister Jina was especially obedient to Bishop Ronin.
You must feel so miserable.
Her body was trembling slightly.
Are you weeping in sorrow?
Even if that vicious person dies, there must be someone who will be sad.
Makarov felt a strange bitterness.
“I’m glad you’re alive.”
Contrary to expectations, Gina was smiling brightly.
Makarov felt a strange sense of dread.
Are the eyes of a madman like that?
While Makarov gave him a puzzled look, Gina grabbed her wrist and left.
Afterwards, Gina and her nun’s whereabouts became mysterious.
* * *
Next day.
As he said, Einstein visited the church alone and immediately found Makarov.
Makarov was silent as he waited in the drawing room.
“You came early.”
“Because they told me to remove the horns as well.”
“Is that so.”
You are a man of great action.
If you are a warrior, you are a warrior.
Makarov tried to hand over the holy sword he kept.
“You can give it to me later.”
It was Einstein with a somewhat disgusted expression.
“… I will. But the saintess is nowhere to be seen.”
“She decided there was no need to bring her to a place like this.”
Makarov fully agreed.
Because this is just a place where the trauma that Arya has been through is intact.
A cold gaze locked on Makarov.
“The due process you said, try it once.”
“It’s impossible for me alone.”
“You said you could do it yesterday?”
“All I can do is to raise my legitimate voice.”
Einstein gestured as if to continue talking.
Makarov explained to him what he was thinking, and when he heard the story, he stroked his chin and thought about it.
“… I think it’s okay.”
It was a positive statement.
“Can you trust me and leave it to me?”
“Yeah, you have to get down to make money.”
The cool affirmation made Makarov suspicious.
“What if my plan goes wrong?”
He said with a careless face.
“At that time, I’ll just wipe it all away.”
It was a light tone, but the weight of the words was not light.
Makarov’s words seemed to emanate a thick bloody smell.
“You are radical, more than I thought.”
“Has anyone shown mercy to the beast that asked first?”
It was a metaphor close to raw.
“If you continue to act like that, the hero’s reputation will hit rock bottom.”
“Thank you for your concern, snoring. But my people are more important to me than my reputation.”
My person
It is a word referring to Saint Arya.
Makarov saw Einstein.
Einstein also saw Makarov.
The two men that Arya cherishes have very different personalities.
They were opposites of each other.
“I will not let things go that way.”
“Try hard.”
“Yes, I will try.”
Einstein gave the address of the inn where he was staying, saying that he could call whenever he needed help.
Contrary to the expectation that he would be riotous, he was Einstein who left meekly.
* * *
Makarov is a clever boy.
Occasionally, through his father’s mouth, he could hear the story of a priest who only took advantage of his own profit, and whenever he heard the news, he could not hide the deep disgust that welled up in his heart.
How is it that all of the clergy are so obsessed with the secular world?
Aren’t they people who make it their profession to spread God’s will and to pray?
I used to get annoyed when I saw humans.
That’s why he didn’t even know that the boy respected the saintess.
Because the saintess, who was immersed only in faith regardless of social conditions, was the ideal ‘religious person’ that the boy wanted.
Even if it was a made and molded mask, the saintess was a symbol and an idol to Makarov.
The more I knew about what she had been through, the more devastated I felt.
Not only did cardinals and bishops commit sexual violence against the saints of the church, they even threatened them.
‘Has it been rotten like this?’
She felt a deep skepticism.
If God really existed, he shouldn’t have forgiven them.
I shouldn’t have been left unattended.
She should have been punished.
She had to pay the price she deserved.
However, she did not act as a goddess, but only contemplated.
It was only one hero who delivered the heavenly punishment.
Makarov directly submitted a document summarizing the twisted evils of eroticism to the pope.
Bondi whistleblowing also requires a certain level of rank, but the position of being the son of a cardinal made it more ‘flexible’ than expected.
‘It’ll be ‘flexibility’ that can’t be used any more after this incident is over.’
Then several days passed.
Fortunately, a positive reply came to see if the document was properly delivered to the pope.
Although he was a pope who had recently stopped his external activities and remained silent, he had officially expressed his intention to face the hero and the saint in person, as if he had not weakened to the point of refusing such an important event.
‘It must be to cover the two of them.’
Wouldn’t it be
Even when the pope was active, he was a person who valued baptism more than doctrine.
He is not a person who would be happy to see such gossip flow by itself.
A few days later, the pope, Rondo Delphirium, secretly met the saint and the warrior.
Only they know what has been said.
The pope directly announced to his officials that he would be severely punished if anyone dared to make fun of the incident.
How to press down with authority.
It was a simple but effective method.
After that, things went smoothly.
The bishops who molested her saint were stripped of their titles and sent to the ‘frozen prison’ in the north, where she had a reputation for harshness.
Since it is a place where heinous criminals go, the bishops naturally protested strongly, but the pope said, ‘Then will you dedicate an ornament on his head? I’m more inclined to either side, so I’ll give you a choice myself. Choose whether to live in a comfortable cradle or become the dew of the executioner.’
No one objected to this.
Even if he died soon, wouldn’t this world be better?
Of course, that was the bishops’ mistake.
Because there could have been a living hell in the world.
It was exactly what Makarov wanted.
How to rightly punish those who harmed her, without mending her wounds in her aria.
It included Marvlov and his own father, but he tried to ignore it.
Because this is the right thing to do
Makarov let out a heavy sigh, feeling a slight migraine.
It was too heavy a reality and a responsibility for a boy who was still only 14 years old.
When I look in the mirror, my dark circles are getting thicker.
There were a lot of things to be aware of while moving around, and there were a lot of things to care about, so it was not a word.
Let’s go to the chapel and pray.
It seemed like it would be a good way to calm the troubled mind.
Isn’t it?
People seek God whenever they are in trouble.
Makarov lightly washed his face and left the room.
The chapel on weekdays was quiet.
A space that was considered grand and sacred.
It is such a space.
Makarov was deeply upset that he could no longer harbor such feelings in an innocent way.
The boy looked at the majestic scenery with a wry smile, but at some point his eyes stopped.
There was a person
A beautiful person
She smiled flatly, perhaps noticing the boy’s gaze.
Yes, even when the boy first met her, she had a dark side somewhere.
“Makarov follower, it’s been a while.”
It was a clear tone like the sound of a bell.
A voice that seemed to claim that it had never experienced anything cruel or painful.
Why are you here?
This place only hurts you.
Are you okay?
Numerous questions came to mind, but none of them were easily answered.
It was just speechless.
Makarov’s head drooped like a ripe grain of rice.
“… Saint Aria.”
“It’s been a while, right?”
“Yes.”
“I have something to tell you. Do you have more than a minute left?”
It was a straightforward statement.
Makarov nodded heavily.
“As much as you want.”
“Thanks.”
What do you mean thank you
What do you thank the son of man for hurting you?
My throat got stuck.
“Uh… Would you like to have a chat in D?”
The saintess showed a faint smile.
“How is my room?”
“… You are.”
The two moved on.
* * *
Arya’s room was desolate.
It’s like her relationship with her now, Makarov thought.
Arya was the first to start.
She said, “I heard she helped Ain.”
“Is she Ain?”
“Ah, that’s Einstein’s nickname.”
It was Aria who laughed awkwardly.
That smile was so bright.
Makarov realized that she was not giving her honorific title to Einstein.
She must be that innocent.
The boy had a dry mouth.
“No help, I just did what I had to do.”
The humble Makarov.
Arya gave her a sad look.
“Makarov followers, Cardinal’s work…”
Makarov corrected Arya’s words.
“Saint, he is a former cardinal.”
Even if you do such a thing, if you want your rank to be safe, you’d be modest.
Arya quietly embraced Makarov’s cold reply.
Then she stroked the boy’s back.
“If you keep your eyes sharp, you get tired, follower Makarov.”
Is it an experience story?
She was a saintess who was good at comforting.
“… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, saintess.”
Makarov was sorry.
Her teeth trembled when she thought of the pain her own father must have caused her.
He didn’t know that, and he liked it. He followed Aria around, but he was terrible.
How disgusted she was with herself.
How much did she see herself displeased.
Her heart breaks just thinking about it.
“What is there to be sorry about, Makarov?”
It’s not sarcasm or ridicule.
It was more like a pure question.
“How can I get hurt from my father…”
“It’s not a wound given by a Makarov follower, that’s it.”
It was a strong word, a kind word.
It was a word that gently penetrated the clawed wound.
Makarov felt as if the cry he had been holding back would burst out.
“… Don’t you resent me?”
Arya’s eyes widened softly.
It was a kind smile.
“How can you? I survived thanks to the Makarov followers.”
“… Is it because of me?”
Arya untied her embrace and patted the side of her bed with her hand.
She meant don’t stand aside and sit next to her.
Makarov sat down beside her as Arya had told him to.
“Do you remember? The day we first met.”
At Aria’s words, Makarov nodded her head.
How can I forget it, it was the day she personally received her autograph from the saint she longed for.
“I thought it was a very clear eye. At the same time, he was the one who made me who I am.”
Aria tells the story of a candid meeting.
Makarov couldn’t say anything.
Because there was no shame
“I have always been grateful. A Makarov follower who sends envy and longing even to a dirty person like me.”
“… The saintess is not dirty.”
“Huh, that horse Ain did the same.”
Arya’s face was that of a mischievous girl Makarov had once seen.
Little Shinto-sama, that appearance he made fun of himself.
It had disappeared for some time, but Makarov remembered it.
Arya’s slender fingers stroked her boy’s hair.
It was an awkward touch, but it was so special that you could feel that she was paying attention.
“My point is simple. You don’t have to feel guilty, follower Makarov.”
“… I am.”
“I rather feel sorry for you. I feel like I showed the cruel reality at an early age.”
“… Don’t talk like that.”
Arya smiled.
“Thank you, sorry.”
Her self did not deserve her gratitude, nor her apology.
Makarov’s eyes grew hot, and his throat choked.
However, he did not want to show ugliness to the saintess whom he respected.
It was the boy’s last pride.
“Saintess, there is something I want to ask you, can you answer me?”
“Yes, please feel free to ask.”
Makarov posted a question he wanted to ask before.
“What kind of person is the warrior, was he very different from rumors?”
Arya, as if it was an unexpected question, gave her a look that caught her off guard.
But she soon smiled softly and she replied.
“As rumored, you are a wonderful person.”
“Do you like it?”
Arya looked at Makarov.
She was a serious eye.
You shouldn’t hold off on her answer.
At least she felt that way.
“That’s right, what can I say? It feels like that person is always where my heart can reach.”
“You are romantic.”
“… I never thought I would say something like this.”
“You two get along well.”
“I’m glad to hear that from Makarov.”
The two had a silly chat.
Small talk that seems to go on forever.
It was to give rest to the tired Makarov.
