Chapter 10 : I Don’t Know Anything About Gods

The sharp pain took exactly two days to completely fade away.

Sure, he could have healed it using divine power, but Usher chose not to.

“Because it won’t help with the muscle growth!”

“…Wow.”

“This is important! The Saintess’ body is too frail! No matter how much holy power you use to suppress illness, health without stamina is meaningless!

There was a sense of pride in the fact that his heartbeat had finally settled down, and that he had endured it. It felt as if he’d returned to the early days of his training.

The feeling of accomplishment was indescribable, no matter how much he emphasized it.

And so, today was the day of the final inspection.

Usher could now naturally walk with the stride of one and a half hands that Bersia had described. He was less embarrassed than before to imitate Bersia’s way of speaking in front of others. In fact, he worried about what he’d do if he became so accustomed to these behaviors that he couldn’t go back.

Of course, that was a worry for later.

With Bersia by his side, Usher confidently stepped out of the Order.

They hadn’t gathered people this time, either.

He simply asked them to stay in the village, and this village was no different.

“There are still people coming out.”

“Haha, how often do you get the chance to see the Saintess in person?”

“Although there’s someone else inside the Saintess’ body.”

“…Sometimes, there are truths better left unknown.”

Feeling a strange guilt, Usher turned his head.

Bersia whispered softly at the sight.

“Why? It suits you well. You’re getting used to being in a woman’s body, aren’t you?”

“It doesn’t suit me! I am a knight who has endured grueling training…!”

“Well, look, here come the sick people. You better get back to your main job, ‘Miraculous Saintess.’”

She was a master at changing the topic.

Usher erased his grumbling expression and composed himself.

What he saw, of course, was the joyful faces of the people.

“Oh, oh! Miraculous Saintess!”

“Oh, oh! Divine One!”

He shouldn’t get used to reactions like these.

Continuing the Recent Records, Usher Knelt Down and Clasped His Hands.

“Let us pray.”

The villagers knelt down as well.

Each began reciting their own prayers, creating an atmosphere of solemn reverence.

In the center, Usher released his divine power.

Hwaaaak!

A golden radiance filled the space.

The light expanded, embracing everything in its path, eventually covering the entire village.

“Ahhh!”

Gasps of awe echoed throughout.

Some even shed tears at the overwhelming warmth.

The prayer came to an end.

Though it lasted around ten minutes, the power imbued with the divine energy penetrated deep inside, successfully healing the people from within.

Minor ailments were likely healed, and for a while, they wouldn’t need to worry about infections or minor illnesses.

After everything was finished, a priest from the branch traced the holy symbol and expressed his gratitude to Usher.

It was now late afternoon.

Usher thought the sun might set by the time they returned to the Order.

He stretched with a yawn.

“Ahh, it’s finally over.”

“You worked hard. Now you just need to receive your allowance.”

“Ah, yes, that was the whole reason I started this.”

Usher let out a hearty laugh.

“I had forgotten in the middle of it all, with managing the divine power and taking care of the patients…”

As a Holy Knight, he rarely had the chance to participate in such volunteer work, and it brought back memories.

“Since I was part of a military group, I mostly assisted in tasks like purging heretics. Caring for the Holy Father’s people was always the priests’ responsibility.”

Though it wasn’t his place to feel this way, he had once thought he’d like to participate in caring for the people in those roles.

Usher confessed this sentiment to her, almost like a confession.

But, of course, her response wasn’t as heartwarming as he expected.

“Honestly, it seems like being a Saintess suits you better, Sir Knight?”

“Excuse me…! Wa-watch your language!”

Did she have some affliction that prevented her from speaking without using such vulgar words?

When he shot her a sharp glare, Bersia picked at her ear with an amused smile.

Usher let out a hollow laugh.

“Don’t act like that in public! It’s unbecoming, I say!”

“Stop nagging. Are you my mother, Sir Knight?”

“If you acted so that I wouldn’t have to scold you, there’d be no nagging!”

“Sir Knight, women who constantly nag aren’t popular.”

“I am not a woman! I don’t need popularity! I am a man! A knight of the Holy Father!!!”

“Those who say things like that are always the ones who end up turning away from the Holy Father, not knowing a thing about him, not knowing their… master…”

“Argh!” Usher hissed in frustration.

His brows furrowed deeply.

The trembling figure glaring at her was the most severe warning Usher could give at the moment.

Bershia smirked mockingly.

Just then—

“L-Lady Saintess!!! Please wait a moment!!!”

Usher flinched, his body freezing in place.

He turned his head to see a man running from the direction of the village, teary-eyed.

Usher tilted his head slightly in curiosity.

The man approached closer, clasping his hands together as he pleaded.

“P-Please! Please take another look at my father! He seemed to be touched by a miracle, but he shows no signs of improvement!”

Usher and Bersia exchanged glances.

They both understood the man’s words immediately, and their expressions grew a bit somber.

The Holy Father placed his servants upon this land, granting them divine power to wield.

This was a gesture of the Creator’s grace, desiring his gifts to be close to his creations, which led to the establishment of the Order and its priests.

However, what the Holy Father sought to achieve through them was to convey that in an ever-changing world, there exists an unchanging value.

It was a reminder that the Holy Father was watching over them.

Thus, priests wielded his grace.

In other words, they dispensed the “Providence” that the Holy Father planned.

Simply put,

“His life has reached its end.”

Any disruption that the Holy Father hadn’t foreseen was beyond even their power to manage.

Bersia answered on Usher’s behalf, as they visited the man’s home and looked directly at the elderly man lying on his sickbed.

“It could be healed, but we cannot alter the Providence planned by the Holy Father. This is not an illness, but the natural order.”

“A miracle… isn’t meant to defy this,” she continued.

The man stammered, his voice trailing off in shock.

“Th-That… can’t be…!”

“I’m sorry,” she added gently.

As mentioned before, divine power is the force that guides the world according to the Holy Father’s design.

In creating this land, He established cycles of birth and death, transformation and change.

This allows the world to continuously evolve rather than remain stagnant, and fleeting moments of brilliance come one after another because nothing is eternal.

This man had reached the final point of life designated by the Holy Father.

To restore him at this moment would go against the natural order.

It would be an act against heaven, known as revival, or reversing destiny.

The priests and the Order are those who erase such reversals of heaven’s will from the world.

They reject and eliminate wicked spells, magic, and cultists, and they cannot act in the same way as those who practice such things.

The man despaired.

Meanwhile, Bersia watched Usher’s expression closely. She knew that, despite being a Holy Knight, Usher had a soft and pure heart, making it difficult for him to ignore situations like this.

Perhaps he was feeling uneasy in this somber atmosphere.

“Lady Saintess, what we can do here is…”

“Yes.”

Usher lifted his head, a bitter smile forming as he straightened his back.

And then,

Hwaaak!

He began to pray once more.

Unable to fully control it, his unique golden radiance burst forth, illuminating the entire village.

Just then, Bersia sensed something strange.

The man’s eyes widened in surprise.

The old man’s breathing had eased.

Had Usher somehow driven away the illness?

Bersia’s expression hardened, knowing better than anyone how impossible that was.

But her assumption was wrong.

“I’ve merely eased his pain. At the very least, he won’t fall asleep in agony.”

“…!”

At that moment, Bersia understood the nature of Usher’s prayer.

‘Ah.’

It was the Prayer of Repose.

A prayer she had only known of but never used—a prayer that existed solely to erase the pain of those on the brink of death.

‘How?’

How had he thought of such a prayer so readily?

It was a prayer rarely needed, one that most people wouldn’t even think to remember unless they sought it out specifically.

The man opened and closed his mouth, speechless, looking at the old man with a bewildered expression.

“A…ah.”

He grasped his father’s hand, trembling, as tears welled up in his eyes.

Despair thickened.

In response, Usher spoke to him.

“Brother.”

Usher stood and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The man’s face was drained of life.

Usher then said, firmly,

“Are you only going to cry?”

“Wh-What do you mean…?”

“Through my prayer, he has been granted relief from his suffering. He may not live for much longer, but he’ll be fully conscious during this time.”

Usher continued, as if instructing him.

“At the very least, I doubt that your father would want his last sight to be his son’s tears.”

His resolute tone made Bershia feel a sense of unfamiliarity toward Usher once again.