Chapter 68

“No, huff, huff… Just, I want to stay with Louis…”

“Anne. I made a promise too.”

068

Unlike Us (Part 1)

When I came to my senses, I was in a small tower where I had been confined. I couldn’t remember if I had walked back on my own or if someone had carried me here.

Of course, I hadn’t forgotten the previous ‘encounter.’ Thinking about how I had obediently, almost entranced, followed along sent shivers down my spine. It made sense that I would act that way in the presence of the Lord, but something still felt off.

Perhaps it was all a dream—but the thing I was still clutching in my hand felt too vivid to dismiss as such.

Despite holding it the entire time, it bore no trace of sweat or fingerprints, remaining in its pristine, perfect form. Something white, soft, and round, resembling a fluffy loaf of bread at a glance.

I knew its name. Not just knew—I had even tasted it once before.

The Holy Body.

A divine blessing that grants eternal youth, heavenly beauty, and the strength of a demigod to those who consume it. Even the Emperor of the Empire coveted it but could never obtain it. Yet, it held no meaning for me. I had already eaten the Holy Body.

Excess is worse than deficiency. My physical abilities were already beyond human, but if I were to receive more of the Lord’s blessing, I would cease to be human altogether. Like the Pope.

Regardless of my faith in the Lord, I naturally wanted to remain human. Even if my life was filled with pain and wounds, I didn’t want to lose the part of me that loved you.

“Why did Ailim give this to me…?”

Still, I hesitated, holding the Holy Body. An ordinary superhuman should never absorb it, but my situation was unique. Specifically, ‘now.’

As I stared at the Holy Body, I felt a thud. Thud. Startled by the sensation in my stomach, I dropped the Holy Body. Leaving such a precious thing aside, I focused on the stirring within me.

In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered. Except for one thing. I pressed my ear to my belly, murmuring like a fool.

“Yes, that’s right… Mommy’s here, Mommy…”

The only reason I could maintain my sanity now was because of that. Whether my feelings would reach you, whether you could feel it too. After a few more taps on my belly, the stirring subsided.

That small echo, that infinitely faint struggle—what could it mean? I lingered in the afterglow for a while. Yes, my child. Our child…

When I looked up, the small room was silent and cold. A remote, isolated tower. The feeling of being the only one left in the world made me bite my lip. I couldn’t trust anyone else. I had to protect…

But what if I wasn’t here?

A sudden surge of fear. After giving birth, I would have to leave. Despite my vow to be a good mother, a reliable family, I would be driven back to the battlefield where my husband awaited.

I wouldn’t refuse. But if I were to leave… what would happen to this child? Who, other than me, would protect this child? The child of a sinner, the child of a heretic.

I turned my head to look at the Holy Body lying on the floor. The divine fragment remained untouched by even a speck of dust. Carefully picking up its soft texture… I couldn’t bring myself to do it, swallowing hard instead.

One who consumes the Holy Body twice ceases to be human. But the situation was special now. If I were to eat the Holy Body…

=Don’t eat it, Mom.=

A voice.

I was startled but didn’t drop the Holy Body this time.

=I don’t want to. I don’t want to be like you or Dad.=

The voice, like a child’s whining, evoked nostalgia. Perhaps because it resembled Louis from my childhood.

=You know how beautiful an ordinary life can be.=

Whether I answered or not, the voice continued to whine. The stirring in my belly had long subsided. I stood frozen like a statue, listening to the whispers.

=I just want to be an ordinary person. To live an ordinary life, to love ordinarily. I don’t want my fate decided from the moment I’m born.=

I showed no reaction. Just silence. The voice grew faster, more urgent, as if interpreting my silence.

The whining voice echoed familiarly. My heart. The words I wanted to say. Even the words I couldn’t say. My innermost thoughts were being dragged out and displayed to the world.

=You know how cruel fate can be. To walk a predetermined path, stripped of free will…=

=Didn’t you regret it?=

I did.

Many times.

=Will you pass that regret on to your child?=

For the first time, I shook my head at the voice. I wouldn’t. Even if I was foolish and couldn’t be a good mother. Even if you might resent me as I resented my father.

The strength in my hand holding the Holy Body faded. The voice carried an unmistakable thrill.

=Yes. Put that ugly thing down. The child—no, I—don’t want that thorny path…=

“Too clumsy.”

As if the earlier hesitation and weakness were an act, I spoke coldly.

I admit it was a novel idea, but being deceived by it was nothing but unpleasant. I tightened my grip on the Scripture. Despite the superhuman strength of an Inquisition Judge, it didn’t crumple, maintaining its shape.

I opened my mouth and swallowed the Holy Body.

“Ugh.”

Consuming the Holy Body for the second time—a ‘special’ case.

The sensations of my already superhuman body awakened fully. My senses exploded, entering a realm of omniscience. This narrow room—though not really narrow, a spacious enough area—felt unbearably cramped in that moment.

I perceived and felt everything in the space simultaneously. The net of omniscience extending from me sensed even the slowest movements of air, the faint light filtering through closed curtains, and countless other trivial, unnecessary details flooding my mind.

Yet, unlike when I heard the divine voice, I could endure it. It wasn’t just my body that was advancing. Lightning sparks seemed to flash in my mind, and my thoughts shattered their previous limits, stretching infinitely.

“Ah… ah.”

=Stop it! Stop!=

Everything felt trivial. What had I been worrying about, grieving over? Omniscience was already in my hands, and omnipotence seemed within reach. Why had I been so entangled in the petty struggles of life, crying and agonizing? What were these trivial things?

Meaningless, worthless, insincere, and nonexistent. I now understood why consuming the Holy Body twice would make one cease to be human. Of course.

Who would go through this and still want to return to being a mere insect?

In the face of ascension and overwhelming omnipotence, the trivialities of earthly life became garbage. Besides, hadn’t I been dissatisfied with my own life? A life stained with dirty blood and disgusting sins, nights spent in pain and tears. And the name I called out…

…Louis.

[Ah.]

Omnipotence, greatness. Good. All good words. But what I truly wanted… wasn’t this.

The moment I realized that, the ‘light’ filling my being receded like a tide. The ascension to a great being halted, and I returned to being an utterly ordinary, powerless human. From god to human, an overwhelming sense of helplessness enveloped me.

[Ah, ah, ah… I…]

I shouldn’t be able to stand. But I did. Shaking, I straightened up.

It wasn’t my own strength. The thudding in my heart and belly. It must have been an illusion, but the warmth spreading through me infused my limp limbs with the strength to rise.

“I just…”

It’s fine not to be a god. It’s fine to remain a mere mortal.

What I desired wasn’t something like that. What good is greatness alone? The ones I truly want won’t be by my side.

=Stupid…=

“I want to be happy.”

Together.

With you, and with our child. I can protect myself, and I will save you. But what about our child, left alone in between?

The light I rejected still lingered within me. It began to move again. Inward, deeper, toward the seed of life I carried—

The phenomenon that occurs when a ‘special case’ person consumes the Holy Body.

An unborn child should not consume the Holy Body. Like one who consumes it twice, a fragile, incomplete mind is easily swept away by the drug-like sense of omnipotence. But if someone outside can properly regulate that power…

Instead of being born an incomplete human and consuming the Holy Body after growth has halted, absorbing it before birth to become a being more complete and splendid than anyone else.

Not an incomplete half-human superhuman, but a true superhuman who retains both completeness and humanity. The religious order called such beings Saints.

The child’s origins don’t matter—even if the parents are renowned figures in the order, the fact that the Holy Body was bestowed means Ailim has taken on the role of the child’s godparent. The child will grow up under the most meticulous protection.

“Ha, ha, ahaha…”

And happily.

Even without parents, so many people will be by the child’s side that they won’t feel the absence.

The Holy Body and the divine oracle.

The first gift from the Lord was welcome enough. The second gift, however, might not be.