Chapter 40

Knights of the White Church and combat priests, along with investigators from the Black Fortress, the royal intelligence agency, arrived on the scene not even ten minutes after I had beaten the Collector to death with my belt.

“This was for my own selfish gain! That worthless bastard’s illegitimate son—I was approached with the offer to believe in the Evil God! They said if I believed, I would gain power, money, everything would be mine! It seemed like there was no downside, so I agreed! Then one morning, my father and elder brother were found dead without a sound! And that’s how I inherited the baron’s estate!”

“Tsk! You sure do talk a lot! Go on! Say more! There’ll be that much more firewood added beneath your feet!!”

“Please! Please spare me! Even knowing I’d end up like this if caught, I couldn’t stop! How could anyone refuse when they could instantly gain what they want?! The deaths of the factory workers from the fire? That’s none of my concern! Such scum—whether they burn or not, who cares?! Aaack!!”

“The investigators from the Temple of the Divine’s Silence Church and the Black Fortress will absolutely adore you. They’ll make you wish you’d never been born!!”

“Aaaah! Please!!!”

Baron Hanson was dragged away, screaming his final cries.

A fat factory owner followed behind.

“No! I—I know nothing! A demon worshiper, Baron Hanson? I had no idea! I swear, I didn’t know! Please, show mercy!!”

“If there were even a whiff of you often arguing with Baron Hanson or complaining about him over drinks, we wouldn’t be doing this. But after just ten minutes of investigation, testimonies of your passionate allegiance to him came pouring out. You enthusiastically followed the deeds of someone who wasn’t even a demon worshiper? That raises significant concerns about your mental state.”

“Aaaah! Please! Please! Saint!!!”

The factory owner reached out to me with his hands.

I gave him a bright smile in response.

“You might not be a demon worshiper, but your mental state rivals one. Make sure he’s burned right next to the baron.”

“No! No!!! Please! Grace! Grace!!!”

There’s no grace for someone like you, bastard.

Finally, after the baron and the factory owner were dragged off, I was able to relax.

My mental stamina is too depleted; I’m so tired.

What kind of chaos is this in the middle of the night?

I should go back and rest a bit…

“Saint Amael.”

“Healer Saint.”

“Amael. Amael.”

Before I knew it, an enormous crowd had gathered and filled the entrance of Baron Hanson’s mansion.

They looked at me with awe.

With shock.

Some with tears streaming down their faces.

A few had even fallen to their knees.

“Thank you.”

A grieving family member.

A woman who had just been weeping over the charred remains of her relative in front of the factory approached me, gently holding my hand as she bowed her head.

I could feel her tear drops falling to the ground.

It wasn’t just her.

Dozens of poor, sick slum dwellers approached me, trying to touch me.

They clutched my legs, hands, arms, and shoulders, some even reaching for my waist and side, as if trying to absorb some mystical power.

Even though it might seem unpleasant, I didn’t feel so.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing! Back away from the Saint…”

The police rushed forward to stop the crowd, but I raised my hand to stop them.

Anyway.

These people won’t be around much longer.

I need to help as many of them as I can while I’m still here.

Just as I was about to lift my hands to heal the sick,

“Why is life so unbearably hard?”

The mother gripping my hand unleashed a heart-wrenching scream.

“Why did my daughter have to die at the hands of such vicious people? Was this also the will of the Goddess? If so, isn’t it too cruel? Why doesn’t the suffering in life ever disappear? Saint…”

The mother, collapsed on the ground, cried out, questioning me with a voice that no animal could make.

Everyone became solemn.

They looked at me, as if expecting me to say something.

It seemed like they wanted me to say something.

I glanced around at the people.

Starved bodies, unable to eat properly.

Tired faces,

Bruised, wounded skin, from somewhere.

…People with one blind eye looked at me with hope.

I couldn’t turn away from such a hopeful gaze.

What if I’m pretending to be a saint?

What if I’m fake?

Am I even capable of comforting these people who look so distressed?

This harsh world.

What if, even for a little while, I can offer some solace in this cruel world?

Anyway, I’m already disliked by the Goddess Lilia, so why not impersonate a saint for a moment?

Jesus.

Sorry.

Let me plagiarize a bit again.

I climbed onto the top of the carriage that the factory owner had brought me in.

Everyone’s eyes naturally focused on me.

I raised my hand.

And I spoke.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

***

An era where children labor.

An era where three-year-olds, instead of happily running around, are used as a profit-making tool by capitalists and entrepreneurs.

“Blessed are those who show mercy, for they will be shown mercy.”

An era where if a worker loses fingers, arms, or gets injured, they are simply discarded and replaced.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”

An era where young girls, disfigured by burns and chemical poisoning, hang themselves from rotten ropes to sleep.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see the Goddess.”

An era where entrepreneurs on slum tours naturally think, “How can these children be so crude and stupid? Perhaps they’re not even of the same species as us.”

And I was telling the most painful and suffering individuals that they are blessed.

“Blessed are those who are weary of purposeless lives, for they shall find a reason to live. This is something we, humans, cannot bestow. Only the Goddess can. The best grace She can give you is peace of mind.”

I also sold the Goddess a bit.

Anyway, I’ll be returning to Korea, so I shamelessly promoted her.

To the most miserable and suffering, I declared that they were blessed.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

“Today, an unfortunate incident happened. You may have lost someone, felt miserable, felt hopeless, and despaired. But despite all this, you remain alive. Those you have lost are no longer by your side. They are now being guided by the hand of the Goddess.”

I looked at the mother who had lost her child.

“What was her name?”

“Elly. Her name was Elly, Saint.”

“Recall Elly. Remember how she used to dress, speak, and make noise.”

She began to sob again.

“I can. I can recall her, Saint. Very vividly…so vividly…”

“Imagine now that she is resting peacefully in the arms of the Goddess. Picture her smiling. Imagine her finding peace in a world without suffering or misfortune.”

From all over, cries of grief could be heard.

“Did Elly go to heaven? Did the Goddess of Grace pity her?”

The mother, crying, asked.

I don’t know.

How could I possibly know?

I’ve never even had a single conversation with the Goddess.

So I lied.

“Surely she did. The Goddess would never abandon one who is in pain and sorrow.”

I was trying to tell these people to keep living.

But explaining to someone deeply immersed in grief why they should continue living takes time and their broken hearts can hardly be consoled.

So I used religion.

Only with religion would this be possible.

I consoled them with actions that only religion can offer.

“Elly is now resting in the arms of the Goddess. Everyone who passed today will be the same. They are all resting peacefully in a place without suffering or sadness. So stop grieving now.”

The mother collapsed.

I slowly descended from the top of the car I was standing on and approached her.

I hugged her.

“Elly is now at peace. Focus on making yourself at peace now. Cry when you’re sad, laugh when you’re happy. Eat well, sleep well, and strive to be happy. Living this life is now your task.”

“Saint!”

I allowed the woman in my arms to cry for a while until she had vented all her emotions.

Many people saw her tears and cried along with her.

“Damn it. The dust… the damn dust…”

Among the police officers who had come to control the scene, some removed their hats and wiped away their tears.

I let them all cry.

And I did what I could.

I healed the wounded among those gathered before me.

“Master Yodel.”

“Yes, my Saint.”

Yodel, who had been standing silently beside me even before I began my sermon atop the carriage, I asked him a favor.

“Please provide compensation to all those who have lost family in the factory fire today. Generously. Though material prosperity cannot entirely erase spiritual sorrow, it can certainly ease it. Do this in the name of grace.”

“I shall do as instructed. I’ll tell Jonathan Karma.”

Yodel, bowing his head respectfully, had tears welling in his eyes.

I smiled bitterly.

Sorry, Old Man Yodel.

I’m a fraud.

I’m soon going to be cursed and head back to Korea.

Still, don’t forget what I said.

They’re pitiful, aren’t they?

If you have the ability to help, you must.

Slowly dragging my tired body toward the Mage Tower Temple, I saw many factory workers who had listened to my sermon now following me.

As if on pilgrimage, countless laborers began to slowly follow me.

Glancing back, everyone was silently following me, tears streaming down their faces.

It seemed like they were trying to process their grief, shed their emotions, and bid farewell to the departed.

It was like a funeral.

How could I tell these people, looking like that, to just go back?

I walked forward, letting them follow behind me.

All the way until I reached the Mage Tower Temple.

They kept walking and walking behind me.

Indeed, the name “Saint” was truly magnificent.

Jonathan Karma did more than just hand out compensation.

“Here’s the deal. You can either improve the conditions of your workers to the standards of Slum District 3 and obtain the necessary elixir for factory operations at a discount from Karma Company, or you can face a very long trial at the Pantheon for abusing workers to supply essence for the Evil God. Which would you prefer?”

It’s rumored that when Jonathan Karma met with the factory owners operating in the outskirts of the capital, he was smiling.

But it’s also said that the clerics and knights standing on his left and right looked like twisted demons from the underworld.

As a result, every factory in the outskirts of the capital accepted Jonathan Karma’s terms.

“What? A demon worshiper from a baron’s house? What a disgrace!”

Even His Imperial Majesty was enraged.

As a result, Baron Hanson was stripped of his title in double-quick time and met a fiery end right before everyone’s eyes.

Apparently, all the workers in the capital felt great relief as they heard his screams.

***

“The collector is dead.”

“Dead?”

“She was one of the most powerful individuals in the Church aside from the Chosen One. How could someone like that have fallen so easily?”

“The Saint of Healing discovered her hiding place himself. She met her end at his hands.”

A chilling silence fell across the room.

Fear.

Her hiding place was surely guarded by the miracle of concealment.

How in the world did he find it?

He must possess some ability to pierce through the miracle of concealment.

Otherwise, there was no explanation.

And naturally.

A single conclusion arose in everyone’s minds.

“The Chosen One is a danger.”

“The Thousand-Faced One is also at high risk of being discovered.”

“As long as the saint continues visiting the Princess Iomenes at the palace, it’s only a matter of time before he uncovers our true identities.”

“We need a strategy.”

Various opinions were exchanged, but nothing concrete emerged.

The Saint of Healing.

This enormous obstacle that had suddenly appeared, disrupting all their plans.

This was not the kind of foe they usually faced.

Clearly, he possessed numerous absurd abilities and detection skills, and was determined to eradicate the Cult of the Evil God.

How should they deal with him?

They knew nothing about him, yet he seemed to know them so well.

“We can’t afford to expose the Chosen One to any more risk. We’ll move the plan forward. Awaken the piece of the Evil God embedded within Princess Iomenes.”

“But if we do, the piece will be much weaker than originally planned.”

“Moreover, the piece will become extremely unstable. It could break with even a small impact.”

“Still, this is the best option we have for now. We must prevent the Chosen One and the Saint from clashing.”

An objection came up.

“The Chosen One, selected by the Evil God, possesses multiple lives. Even if he dies, he cannot be completely destroyed.”

“Your point?”

“In my opinion, even if there’s a risk that the Chosen One might die at the hands of the Saint, we should continue assisting the growth of the Evil God’s piece. Remember the great sacrifices we’ve made to acquire this piece. If the awakening fails because we rushed it, that would be a huge loss.”

“The Saint of Grace hasn’t yet demonstrated what miracles he can perform.”

The Saint of the White Church.

The Saintess of the Sun Church.

The Saint of the Silence Church.

And so on.

The Cult of the Evil God knew very well what powers most saints and saintesses from the other major churches possessed.

But not for the Saint of Grace.

He was the first of his kind, a completely new saint.

There was no existing information.

“What if this Saint of Healing possesses the ability to shatter all the lives the Chosen One holds simultaneously? According to the Chosen One’s report, he seems to be trying to transfer the Evil God’s fragment to himself. That would indicate he’s discovered a way to destroy the fragment.”

Inadvertently, they might lose both the Chosen One and the fragment.

Once everyone reached this conclusion, no objections were raised.

Thus, the decision was made.

“The fragment will become severely unstable as a cost of moving the plan forward, and its power will be significantly weaker than originally planned. But still, this is what we must do.”

Everyone was silent.

An agreement.

“For the blood-drinker…”

The weak chant was uttered and the candlelight was extinguished.