Chapter: 144
“Lies.”
Phoebe shook her head at the words of the Evil God’s Apostle.
There was no reason for her to believe what this guy said. He was just trying to charm her with his smooth talk and swallow her whole. Typical tricks of a scumbag worshipper of an evil god.
Despite Phoebe glaring at him, the Apostle remained completely unfazed, a smug grin plastered on his face.
“I don’t get why you’re pretending to be clueless.”
There was no point in wasting her time with this guy’s chat. She needed to call the patrolling teacher and the church folks to deal with him.
“Is that so? Don’t you remember?”
The Apostle suddenly stepped towards Phoebe and reached out his hand.
His speed was so blinding that Phoebe had no choice but to submit and let him touch her forehead.
The moment his hand made contact, a surge of magic flowed through her.
“Now you can recall, right?”
Overwhelmed by the crashing waves of headaches, Phoebe couldn’t help but drop to the floor.
Those waves were memories.
Stuck deep in the sea of forgetfulness, they had just returned to her, riding the tide.
It all began with the smiling face of the orphanage headmaster.
“These new kids have some potential. The amount of divine energy they harbor is increasing. I like it.”
She wore a gentle smile like Phoebe remembered, but her eyes were entirely different.
The headmaster appraised Phoebe and her friends like they were mere objects.
The people talking next to her were no different. Not a single one saw the children as beings to be nurtured and cared for.
Huh? That’s odd. Didn’t the headmaster say we were in a place we should welcome each other?
Despite Phoebe’s doubts, the tide of memories kept flowing.
Next, she found herself in a room in the basement.
In a pitch-dark room illuminated only by candlelight, the headmaster and a bespectacled man were having a conversation.
“Remember, this child is the most promising among this batch. Handle her carefully.”
“Don’t worry. You know my skills.”
“But still, be cautious. This time, we must produce something our superiors will find satisfactory. Damn, do you know how infuriating it was to see that Keepl woman grinning last time?”
“I have my own advancement at stake too. I’ll do my best.”
As their discussion came to a close, the bespectacled man injected something into Phoebe.
Not long after, screams began to escape her lips.
It hurt so much. She felt like she was going to die. Please, save me. Phoebe shouted endlessly, but the two remained unfazed.
The headmaster merely stared at Phoebe with a blank face and said, “Pray. Then the god will surely save you. Pray until Armadi removes your pain.”
It was nonsense, but at the time, Phoebe had no room to care.
She just kept praying and praying until she fainted.
What the heck? A multitude of other memories flashed through her mind.
Someone being dragged away for not memorizing scripture.
A somber meal shared in silence.
The icy atmosphere of the orphanage. Friends disappearing day by day.
“Lies.”
“Do you want to think of it as a lie?”
“There’s no way this could be real.”
“Oh, you know the answer better than I do, don’t you?”
Indeed. The Apostle of the Evil God was right. The answer to Phoebe’s question lay within her.
At this moment, she realized that her memories of the place she once held dear were inexplicably hazy.
And inversely, the memories swirling in her head were glaringly clear.
The dissonance.
A disturbing feeling about countless truths she had never questioned forced Phoebe to confront the reality.
Why had she never revisited the orphanage she once lived in?
Why couldn’t she remember the faces of friends she had alongside her in the orphanage?
Why did she not remember the names of any other clergy from the orphanage besides the headmaster?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Facing the endless barrage of memories, Phoebe ultimately succumbed and vomited onto the floor.
Her trembling shoulders and the quaking white hair only served to amplify the pity she felt, but the Apostle of the Evil God paid it no mind.
“Created saint. Are you ready to hear the story now?”
Phoebe couldn’t respond.
She was choked up and couldn’t utter even a peep.
However, the Apostle seemed to take her silence as agreement, grinning with satisfaction.
“I’ll reveal the truth to you.”
The Apostle began to tell about how Phoebe was created and how she had been used until now.
The narrative that followed could hardly be denied, even by Phoebe herself.
At first denying her memories, Phoebe slowly accepted them, one by one.
The memories that popped back into her mind.
The dissonance between the truths she thought she knew.
The way the Apostle described how she was utilized made it impossible for her to deny.
“I think this should provide you with enough answers to your questions.”
“…”
“Why can’t you hear the god’s voice despite being a saint? Obviously, it’s because Armadi has never chosen you. He hasn’t even seen your existence as an affront to him.”
As Phoebe bowed her head in silence, the Apostle of the Evil God seized her hair and forced her to look up.
Phoebe’s naturally pale face turned ghostly white, resembling a corpse laid in a coffin.
“Don’t you want revenge? On those who stole your childhood and have only seen you as a useful object? If that’s what you desire…”
“Light.”
Without warning, a flash of light erupted, causing the Apostle of the Evil God to stumble back.
With that, Phoebe darted away, quickly glancing around.
Something felt off. Even in the middle of the Academy Street, a commotion like this surely wouldn’t go unanswered, right?
It was only then Phoebe faced the darkness surrounding her.
The sky, stained black. A silent street with not a single person in sight.
This wasn’t the Academy’s street.
Where on earth am I? How did I end up in a place like this?
“What a bold move.”
It was strange. Just a moment ago, the voice of the Apostle was behind her, but now it echoed in front of her.
Phoebe halted in her track, confronted by the towering figure of a massive man blocking her way.
“Is your desire for vengeance less than your animosity towards our god?”
Trying to shake off her confusion, Phoebe listened to the Apostle’s voice and turned to him.
“No, that’s not it.”
“Hm?”
“I don’t want revenge.”
It was true; Phoebe was indeed shocked by the complete overturn of what she believed to be the truth.
Her mind was still struggling, torn between what was real and what was false.
But that still didn’t mean she wanted to seek revenge.
“Armadi probably wouldn’t want that.”
If something is wrong, it should be corrected.
But personal emotions shouldn’t interfere with that.
Rightness must be determined by what is right.
A righteousness turned into a weapon through faulty means cannot be true righteousness.
Phoebe believed that and held it close to her heart.
“…Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Seeing the resolute look in Phoebe’s eyes, the Apostle chuckled mockingly.
“You’ve never heard Armadi’s voice and you never will, despite being a so-called created saint?”
“Is that what you’re referring to? Thank you for enlightening me.”
Phoebe had struggled with whether she was worthy of being a saint.
Could someone filled with jealousy and hatred, questioning the deity, truly be deemed fit for a saint?
The Apostle of the Evil God answered that question for her.
Phoebe was not a saint.
Given the title of saint by human hands, she was nothing more than one of the divine servants under the god.
Anyone else would have been shocked by such news, but for Phoebe, it was different.
After a lengthy struggle, acknowledging her flaws, the revelation that she wasn’t the saint was not a stripping of her qualifications.
It was a clearance for herself.
Of course, she wasn’t worthy of being a saint. Hence, she couldn’t help but lack many things.
This meant that—
“So you’re saying the reason Armadi doesn’t look at me is that I’m insufficient?”
Then the solution was simple.
From now on, she could strive step by step to become someone worthy of Armadi.
Just like Lucy, Armadi’s Apostle, if she became someone who couldn’t bear to be unloved by him, that would suffice.
Upon hearing that response, the Apostle stared blankly at Phoebe’s face before smirking.
“You’ve really lost it. After years of being brainwashed into being a saint, you’ve come to believe you actually are one?”
“Maybe so.”
“Now that’s quite the saintly answer.”
As the Apostle took a step towards Phoebe, the once decent distance between them quickly evaporated.
He loomed over her, floating several orbs around him.
“Your answer is far from what I desire.”
Phoebe caught on to the veiled threat hiding behind those words.
If she wanted to avoid a nasty encounter, she had better change her answer.
That was such a predictable and dull threat.
Did you think I’d just give you the response you want?
Phoebe shot an annoyed glance at the smug Apostle and then thought back to why she had acted this way.
She remembered she was not a saint, and it made her shake her head.
Why would there be a problem behaving unsaintly if she wasn’t a saint?
How could she provoke this guy into a fit of rage?
What words should she throw to rattle the emotions of this easily pleased person?
How could she land a clean hit?
Ah, speaking of which, I have the perfect textbook for that.
The method taught by Armadi’s Apostle.
“Is it because you’re a pathetic Evil God’s Apostle?”
As she juggled the response Lucy would likely have given, Phoebe moved her lips, causing the Apostle of the Evil God’s initially relaxed expression to freeze.
“…You little…”
“Pfft! The best comeback ever. Pathetic saint!”
The Apostle of the Evil God gritted his teeth the moment he heard her words, and above them, another voice rang out.
A voice so clear it felt it could pierce her ears.
Turning her head at the sound of armor landing, Phoebe met a delightfully reliable and infuriating smile, mirroring her own.
“Hi♡ You obnoxious brat♡ Still think you’re so cool, huh?♡ When are you going to grow up?♡ Pathetic♡ Pathetic♡”
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