The investigation into whether Jörmungandr was truly a divine being continued the next day.
An elite order of Paladins, spanning dozens in number, was lined up and ready to embark on their journey to the cave said to be inhabited by Jörmungandr.
The dazzling Paladin unit that filled the royal gates was enough to capture the attention of the townsfolk all on its own.
And amidst all this, the Saint, standing with a gentle smile, immediately drew everyone’s gaze.
Her eyes were marked with the symbol of the sun.
Proof of the mark bestowed upon her by the Goddess.
In addition, her mysteriously beautiful face had an allure that was simply undeniable.
Yet there was someone who caught the Saint’s eye.
“Hmm?”
Since becoming a Saint, the abilities forcibly etched onto her were not limited to mere healing.
The pupils marked with the symbol of the sun allowed her to see the “divinity” spread wide across the world.
The power that could elevate her to become a deity.
That divinity was not only evidence representing the gods but also an essential element that any divine entity must possess.
Thus, it came as a surprise.
A significant amount of divinity pointed towards one woman, enough to captivate her attention instantly.
“Who is that person?”
Before a statue shaped like a serpent, a woman was fervently praying and continuously scribbling something in an endlessly thick book.
She shared the same black hair as the other nationals but had the distinct feature of blue eyes.
While blue eyes were generally common on this continent, there was something peculiar.
Her infinitely mysterious eyes naturally possessed an enchanting charm that drew one’s gaze.
“That’s my daughter. She has become a priestess of Jörmungandr.”
“A priestess?”
The Saint’s gaze was fixed on her.
In her blue eyes, indeed, divinity resided.
At that moment, the Saint was convinced that Jörmungandr was genuinely a divine being.
For only someone called a priestess could possess divinity.
Among humans, aside from the few Solitary Heroes who had achieved great deeds and herself, a Saint, there had been no other cases of someone being human and possessing divinity.
Yet that woman.
She undeniably possessed it.
A divinity different from that bestowed by the Goddess.
A divine essence that felt overwhelmingly blue and immense.
Only.
“…I don’t want to go back.”
What would happen if she told the Cardinals this fact?
She would inevitably be sent back to the Divine Empire.
Going back to those suffocating regulations she suffered under.
She didn’t want that.
Even if it could be seen as a small act of rebellion.
She genuinely wanted to meet the being known as a god. In fact, Bélial had never truly encountered a god.
The Goddess who had granted her the mark.
She had never once revealed herself to her Saint.
Long ago.
Saints described in ancient texts had received revelations from the Goddess, but Bélial never experienced that.
Instead, the irresponsible god had merely stamped her with the mark called a seal.
Taking away her senses.
She had expressed countless grievances and shouted at her daily, but nothing changed. Thus, she was left wondering. What kind of existence is a god?
To resolve that curiosity.
The Saint took her first steps to confront that existence directly.
At the same time, she felt a sense of sympathy towards the woman called a priestess.
“What kind of price was paid for this?”
After all, she was a representative of a god. Was there truly no cost associated with such a being?
Bélial naturally assumed that Jörmungandr had extracted some price from her. However, it didn’t take long for that thought to shatter.
The priestess, upon hearing news from the king, came rushing over to greet her.
“Nice to meet you, Saint. I am Eliserde, the priestess of Jörmungandr.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“Could I perhaps join you?”
“Of course.”
The Saint nodded readily. It would be more peculiar for a priestess not to accompany them, and she felt a sense of camaraderie, having a similar standing.
Thus, Bélial cautiously approached her and whispered, “By the way, what did you have to pay as a price?”
“Huh?”
“I’m curious about what you sacrificed to become a priestess.”
The expression on Eliserde’s face suggested she had no clue what Bélial was talking about. The Saint tilted her head in confusion.
Why such a reaction?
Well, she clearly bore divinity.
Unless Eliserde had achieved some remarkable feat as a Solitary Hero, it was impossible for a priestess to exist without it.
So why did she look so clueless?
In that moment, the Saint’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden possibility that crossed her mind.
No way, could it be?
“What do you mean by price…?”
“…Ah, nothing at all.”
She could have pressed further. Whether Eliserde was hiding the existence of a price or if she simply misunderstood her words.
But the Saint chose silence.
Perhaps if she realized that she had paid no price, her heart—one she had unconsciously guarded—would completely shatter.
So, the Saint opted to avoid the topic.
Even though blood flowed from her tightly clenched fist, she remained utterly oblivious to it.
* * *
A familiar presence approached.
Jörmungandr smiled at the energy drawing closer to him.
[Eliserde.]
My priestess.
He’d been quite busy crafting a new religion lately, so it had been a while since their last meeting.
Of course, he could fly over to meet her directly—but that might attract too many eyes.
So he stayed quietly in the cave, and reflecting on their reunion brought him unexpected joy.
[There are others as well.]
Quite a number.
Yet, they all exuded an unusual aura.
An extraordinarily warm… gentle energy.
It was, at least, the most peaceful and warm presence he had encountered thus far.
Still, if he had to compare…
[It’s similar to a Solitary Hero.]
It felt closely akin to the energy of someone called a Solitary Hero.
Though it wasn’t identical.
If the aura a Solitary Hero radiated felt more like fierce and destructive energy, the one approaching now felt much warmer.
Among them, however, one presence stood out the most.
For a moment, Jörmungandr wondered if this could be a divine manifestation.
Such was the overwhelming divinity present.
However, something felt different.
Rather than the divinity gained through a direct encounter, it felt as though divinity itself was rebelling against her body.
It was clearly her own energy.
Yet it felt disruptive rather than harmonious.
[How strange.]
How could someone with such divine presence not know how to handle it?
Jörmungandr thought of his priestess—a woman who, by becoming his priestess, naturally acquired divinity.
She had a similar vibe to the one approaching now; it felt as if she too had accepted divinity from someone. But that made it all the more peculiar.
“Usually, when one becomes a representative of a god, they should harmonize with divinity effortlessly.”
Eliserde was like this.
From the very beginning, she possessed the potential to become a priestess.
Therefore, when she became his priestess, it was natural for her to embody divinity.
Yet here was someone whose divinity was rebelling against her even as she became a god’s representative…
“That’s not a good feeling.”
He couldn’t shake the sensation that something was tangled up and complex.
* * *
Eliserde looked at the Saint with a worried expression.
This woman, the first and creator goddess’s representative, bore the sun’s emblem etched upon her, appearing immensely mysterious. Yet since just a moment ago, she seemed to carry an unsettling energy.
‘Is she… a bit dazed?’
It felt as if her mind was wandering somewhere else.
Since hearing about her experiences, the Saint had stiffened and remained silent.
Instead, she had kept her distance, thoroughly.
Eliserde initially wondered if she had done something wrong, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there must have been a more fundamental reason behind the Saint’s behavior.
‘Her hands…’
The Saint’s hands were a complete mess.
She was gripping her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, and blood was oozing out.
Wasn’t it painful?
What puzzled her more was the fact that the surrounding Paladins showed no interest at all.
After all, she was the Saint.
The top representative of the church.
Surely, they would always pay attention to her and ensure her well-being.
‘…They’re indifferent.’
They were being polite, yes, but it felt less like respect and more like a duty stemming from the necessity to protect the goddess’s representative. As long as she didn’t lose her life, they seemed uninterested in anything else.
That was the overwhelming feeling.
Eliserde was left gasping for breath.
‘Did I come here for nothing…?’
How could dozens of people pass by without uttering a single word?
Regret suddenly reared its head, but her eyes caught sight of the increasingly unstable Saint.
Although such words may not be fitting for someone of her high status, it felt like watching a child by the river.
Or perhaps someone precariously balancing at the edge of a cliff.
It was when she focused on this unstable sight that she heard,
“Oh, we’ve arrived!”
At last, they reached the cave of Jörmungandr.
“This is….”
The Saint’s eyes shone darkly.
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