The church wasn’t particularly large, but it wasn’t excessively small either.
Sometimes, local churches would use just one floor of a two-story commercial building, or worse, occupy a space no bigger than a small shop.
This church, however, used an entire two-story building. It even had the sharp spire that people often associate with Korean churches. It was clear that they weren’t so lacking in funds as to seem destitute.
After all, a truly impoverished church wouldn’t be able to hold regular free meal services as part of their volunteer work.
That’s right, volunteer work.
My sister said she came to this church once a month to volunteer. She also mentioned that she would sometimes bake a lot of bread to bring along.
Perhaps because of this, I had unconsciously assumed the church only held volunteer activities once a month.
If I thought about it logically, that couldn’t be the case.
The day I came to volunteer with my sister was a Wednesday, right in the middle of the week.
Naturally, it was safe to assume they distributed free meals the day before, the day after, and almost every day.
After all, just handing out food once a month wouldn’t do much to support the people relying on these meals.
When we arrived, preparations for the volunteer activity were in full swing.
“Uh…?”
Caught off guard by an unexpected situation, I hesitated. A person in the distance noticed us and looked our way.
While they might not have recognized the others behind me, the woman had seen my face before.
“Oh my, Shihyun!”
At her exclamation, a few other people glanced over at me before shifting their gazes to the four people standing behind me Kalia, Fia, Dana, and Arna.
Fortunately, the pastor was nearby. Hearing the woman’s call, he turned toward us, his face lighting up with a bright smile as he approached quickly.
“You’re here! We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Oh, did I come at a bad time?”
“Not at all… though, to be honest, yes, it is a bit busy. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until we finish up.”
I looked past the pastor for a moment.
It seemed no one had stopped their work to approach us, likely because the pastor had addressed me directly.
Everyone else appeared busy, which made sense there weren’t many people who could take time out of their weekday schedules to volunteer.
“Would you like me to help?”
The pastor’s smile widened at my offer, deepening the wrinkles on his already lined face. Strangely, his expression looked younger than usual perhaps because his smile felt so genuine.
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
As I started to take off my outer coat, I could feel several pairs of eyes on me mostly from the four people standing behind me.
“You don’t have to join me.”
Kalia tilted her head quizzically.
“I’m not sure what kind of work you’re planning to do, but from the look of it, it seems like something we could help with easily enough.”
“Ah, well…”
“Is it relief work?”
Relief work.
Hearing it described that way made it sound grand, but it wasn’t fundamentally different from what we were doing distributing food to those in need.
Indeed, in Irellecia, welfare was mostly handled by the church. Wherever people gather, hierarchies inevitably form.
Naturally, there were those among them who were so wealthy they could rival kings, and on the other hand, there were the extremely poor, struggling even to earn enough in a day to survive.
The church often engaged in relief activities for those in extreme poverty. They would even provide free treatment for the injured or sick.
Even though it’s said that it’s impossible to prevent hierarchies from forming in human society, the kingdom knew very well that leaving such internal decay unchecked would only lead to eventual collapse.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Then I’ll help too.”
Hearing my response, Fia immediately rolled up her sleeves and stepped forward.
“Believe it or not, I’ve distributed up to 500 bowls of soup in a day before. I’m confident I won’t collapse from just this kind of activity.”
“No, but still, you’re all guests here…”
Even as I was saying this, Dana and Arna were already heading over to join the volunteers without hesitation.
“There’s no use trying to stop them.”
Kalia was already holding her coat in her hand.
“You may be the hero, but we’re the companions who walked alongside that hero. This party was always made up of people who were willing to help others. Do you really think they’d stop just because you try to talk them out of it?”
For a moment, I was at a loss for words at Kalia’s laughter.
The priest standing right next to us, who had been listening to the conversation, just smiled nonchalantly. Even after hearing the word “hero.”
Of course, most people wouldn’t believe someone saying they were a “former hero.”
Normally, they’d dismiss it as a joke or, if insisted upon too seriously, might wonder if something was wrong with your head.
But the priest didn’t show either of those reactions.
…Well, considering that memo had this church’s address written on it.
Perhaps he already knew everything. Even if not, at the very least, he probably realized that my party and I were sent by the goddess.
Seeing the expression on his face, as if he understood everything, Kalia shrugged and then followed after the party members who had already gone ahead.
“Did you already know?”
When I asked this, the priest shook his head and replied.
“No one in this world knows everything. We simply learn, bit by bit.”
Then he turned and went back to where he had been working, as if that was exactly where he was meant to be.
*
Perhaps because the number of people had increased by four, the volunteer work went much more smoothly than last time.
Kalia and Arna, of course, were dependable, and Fia and Dana also possessed physical strength and stamina far beyond that of the average person.
Since preparing meals for hundreds of people required a lot of heavy lifting, moving around large supplies of ingredients was no trouble for them.
Other volunteers were so astonished at the sight that they could only shake their heads in disbelief.
At first, people were startled by the sudden involvement of four foreign women and tried to talk to them in awkward English.
But once they realized these women spoke Korean as well as native speakers, they quickly got used to them.
Oh, and for the record, Arna managed to hide her ears effectively.
Contrary to my concerns, it seemed they’d had about a month to prepare before crossing over to this world.
True to her role as the party’s scout, Arna had anticipated that she might need to hide the fact that she was an elf. As such, she had brought a magical tool capable of concealing her elven ears.
The tool itself was embedded with a magic stone, so it wasn’t entirely useless in this world.
However, in a world where magic was faint, it could only cast a minimal illusion, making her ears look human. If anyone were to touch Arna’s ears, her identity would be immediately exposed.
Of course, it wasn’t as though anyone would intentionally try to touch her ears. In that sense, even with its limited functionality, the magical tool was doing its job just fine.
None of the people coming to receive food caused any trouble, and thanks to that, the volunteer work wrapped up without a hitch.
After it was all over, a few curious volunteers came over to ask where we were from and how long we had been living in Korea.
But Kalia stepped in and smoothly redirected the conversation, saving us from the trouble of fabricating stories about places we’d never been.
Although some people did seem to find Kalia’s manner of speaking unusual.
In any case, it was well past three in the afternoon by the time we were finally able to sit down with the pastor and have a proper conversation.
“Yes, you’ve found the right place.”
The pastor nodded with a smile as he read the notepad I handed him.
“Did you know that I’ve been to another world?”
“I had a feeling, but I wasn’t certain.”
The pastor nodded at my question.
Was that why he had asked those questions earlier?
I swallowed dryly.
There was a lot to talk about, but the first question that came to mind was one that could easily offend the pastor if he was a devout Christian.
At the same time, I had a feeling that this pastor wouldn’t take it too harshly.
“…By any chance, is the god you worship… actually the goddess?”
When I asked as politely as possible, the pastor broke into the brightest smile I’d seen from him all day and stood up.
He walked to a desk in the corner of the room, rummaged through a drawer, and brought back two small figurines and an envelope. He carefully placed them on the table in front of me.
The two figurines looked as though someone had carved them as a hobby, but…..
“They’re goddess statues.”
Fia immediately pointed out one of the figurines, which resembled the goddess I was familiar with.
At the same time, it bore a slight resemblance to images of the Virgin Mary.
“Just in case someone misunderstands.”
The pastor chuckled as he said this.