The chaos that erupted in a city was quelled by the direct intervention of the Apostle of God.
It took barely half a day.
The late-arriving support from the home country and knights from other nations helped push back the frontlines, but ultimately, the reason they came to the city was solely because victory was in sight.
The city, which should have been doomed, found salvation through just one Apostle of God.
She was revived by a miracle. After finishing the dungeon, the Apostle of God looked around at the cheering crowd with an indifferent expression and shrugged her shoulders.
“I almost died from this pathetic dungeon. You old guys are ridiculously incompetent. Don’t you feel ashamed?”
What escaped her small mouth were insults, yet the crowd still cheered.
The Apostle of God, Lucy, had become a symbol of hope for them.
However, among the cheers, the expressions of those who entered the dungeon with Lucy were not very good.
Lucy’s friends realized she was more fragile than they expected.
She might stand up numerous times to do what needs to be done, but deep inside, she was a person who was piling up wounds.
When they pushed back the frontlines, when they reclaimed the dungeon’s door, and when they strategized against the dungeon.
Those who knew just how impatient and desperate Lucy was thought she was not truly smiling.
She was just smiling to fulfill the wishes of those in front of her. They knew her insides were rotting away.
“Lady Allen!”
“Apostle of God!”
“Lucy Allen!”
“Lucy Allen!”
Joy thought about silencing those who were shouting right in front of her.
She wanted to stop those who did not care about others’ feelings while forcing their own onto her and take Lucy back.
Knowing that there was no malice in them. Just that they didn’t know how to contain their joy.
“Stop it, you fool.”
Frey had similar thoughts but differed from Joy in that she intended to act on them.
If it hadn’t been for Arthur blocking her in advance, Frey would’ve swung her sword without even the slightest hesitation.
“But it’s annoying.”
“Still, hold it in. You’ll just make Lucy Allen uncomfortable.”
“…Tch.”
Even Arthur wasn’t pleased with the current situation.
People only cared to gaze at the miracle and showed no interest in what lay beneath that miracle.
They cheered for the Apostle of God who would save the world but did not see the fragile girl beneath.
The damned king, who was probably swimming in madness in the darkness, once said something like this.
People only see what they want to see. So, what they wanted to see was a hero to save them, huh?
“Everyone.”
Above the overwhelming cheers, a woman’s voice turned everything upside down.
Those who had been screaming madly at the warmth of the voice that rescued them slowly closed their mouths, searching for the source of the voice.
“I understand the joy of victory, but we still have much work left to do.”
The saintess of the Jushin Church boldly spoke amidst the gazes covering the land.
“Everyone, it’s not time to celebrate the joy of victory just yet.”
She tried to appear indifferent, but the strong emotions that seeped through her voice forced the crowd to acknowledge their foolishness.
The saintess was right.
Nothing had ended yet.
They couldn’t rest until the tragedy that had befallen this land was completely resolved.
That was the duty of the living.
“Phoebe! You did great!”
“Of course, the saintess is different.”
“I wanted to lie down.”
“Please become a proper human being.”
Once the commotion settled and the time came for the friends to converse, they told Phoebe how great she was.
They thanked her for doing what they wanted to do instead.
However, Lucy, only Lucy, was staring blankly into the void as if captivated by something, before turning her gaze toward Phoebe.
And just like she did with the soldiers a moment ago, she flashed a smile.
“You did well for a sloppy one.”
What she said was the praise Phoebe had longed for, but Phoebe couldn’t be sure if it was genuine.
Phoebe was used to this scene.
Living with the stench, the sticky ground, the gloomy atmosphere, and the sounds of crying always around her.
Her role, as one holding the title of saintess, was to give them hope.
The Pope, the villain who created her, said that saving those in despair was the duty of the clergy.
Pure and naive Phoebe never doubted those words, and she worked diligently so that everyone in the world could be happy.
Praying that the will of God would spread throughout the world, so that everyone could be saved like herself.
To achieve that, she didn’t care about anything else.
The people around Phoebe agreed that it was the right thing to do.
Even in her moment of doubt when she met the Apostle of Evil God.
Even when she faced the miracle wrought by God with her own eyes.
Even on the day she learned her birth was full of lies.
She thought she would willingly sacrifice herself to save others.
Then one day.
Phoebe realized.
That the word sacrifice could be cruel.
When most people hear that someone is sacrificing themselves to save others, they perceive it as noble.
But if you were a friend of that ‘someone’ who sacrificed themselves, and you cherished them dearly, you would say this.
“Why does it have to be you?”
“Why must it be you alone?”
“Does it have to be you who sacrifices?”
“Can’t it be someone else?”
“Can’t you take a little break?”
They would continue.
Continuously.
Phoebe also asked.
She continually questioned Lucy, who was trying to move forward.
Others did the same.
Directly or indirectly, they kept asking Lucy.
“Does it really have to be you?”
Lucy’s answer was this.
“It has to be me.”
Lucy probably didn’t know.
How harsh the word sacrifice could be for those who loved her.
And Lucy had to remain oblivious.
To how much she was hurting others.
That was not a problem that could be solved with faith alone.
Even if the end is happiness, if the process is painful, the surroundings suffer as well. They feel the pain emotionally rather than rationally.
Yet still, the reason those around Lucy couldn’t bring themselves to stop her or get angry at her, was that Lucy was kind.
Lucy is good.
She is such a good person that God himself chose her as an Apostle to save the world.
Therefore, if she realized that her sacrifices were causing pain to those around her, she would hesitate.
Everyone knew this.
They knew that saying they were suffering would only increase her burden.
So, they said they believed in her, pushed her forward, and tried to do their best.
If she tried to move forward, at the very least, they would share in her suffering.
Phoebe tried her best for Lucy.
She tried to do anything to lighten her load.
But if such actions only increased her burden, if it added to what she needed to care about…
I.
When I regained consciousness, I found myself back in my room.
I didn’t even remember if I had acted properly throughout the day.
However, seeing that there was no one around who was worried about me, it seemed I had behaved as usual.
Training to act like a saintess no matter what happened must have helped.
As Phoebe stared at her trembling hands, she attempted to clasp them together, but stopped.
“Do I have the right to pray?”
With the reckless thought of wanting to help the Apostle of God, I’ve repeatedly engaged in actions that exceeded my place and caused trouble for her. Is it still okay for me to pray?
I, who have caused so many to be sacrificed and brought sadness to the young lady, how can I…
No.
At this time, I need to tidy things up.
To correct my mistakes, and to ensure I don’t burden the young lady any further with what I can do.
Knock knock.
Startled by the sound of knocking on the door, Phoebe shuddered and unconsciously looked at her reflection in the mirror.
With cold sweat dripping down, her sweat-soaked hair clinging to her cheek, breath ragged, and her eyes trembling, the image of herself was one that should never be shown to others.
Just as she wanted to say she wanted to rest, Phoebe felt the divine grace of God emanating from outside the door.
The light that saved her. The warmth possessed by the person who rescued her.
“Sloppy saintess.”
So Phoebe couldn’t respond.
Doubting whether she had the right to answer, she kept silent, wishing Lucy would leave.
Bang!
“I’m coming in, you fool.”
And just like every time, Lucy inconsiderately granted what Phoebe deeply wished for in her heart.
“Lady.”
“If you’re struggling, just say so.”
“…What?”
“I don’t know what you lowly fools think. Isn’t it obvious? Why would I need to understand the thoughts of such inferior morons like you?”
If you don’t tell me, I won’t know how hard it is.
“That’s…”
“So just say it. I want to laugh heartily at the ugly things that come out of your mouth.”
So please tell me it’s hard for you. So I can help you.
“…Do I have that right?”
“No, that’s why you need to speak more. I can laugh a ton, you know? Sloppy one.”
The suffering must be shared.
“But I… I trouble the young lady.”
“Sloppy ones always do that. That’s why it’s so much fun. I can tease you endlessly.”
And then I can laugh.
“I…”
“And this way, even if I torment you, you can’t say anything, right?”
I can repay you for sharing my burden.
Understanding Lucy’s words, Phoebe erupted in tears as Lucy approached her, pulling her cheeks as she usually did and smiling brightly.
“For a sloppy pig like you, this is what you get, right? You idiot.”
“…Huh? Young lady? What did you just say?”
Lightly laughing at Phoebe, who was so shocked that she stopped crying, Lucy turned her gaze behind her as she continued speaking.
“I can’t help it if I like you and am obsessed with how cute I am. But look around.”
“Please don’t say too much to the saintess. What can I do? I am incompetent and untrustworthy.”
Bishop Johan was there.
“Saintess, may I take on some of your burdens?”
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