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There are few things as shocking as waking up to find one’s home in disarray.

The dining table was cluttered with wild plants and stone fragments. The carefully cleaned rug was smeared with mud and dirt, and the child’s attire looked so shabby it would be an understatement to say it was ragged.

Instead of a home, the scene resembled a playground, leaving the middle-aged woman with her head in her hands.

“Son, what on earth happened here….”

With a gentle tone, the mother scolded her dirt-covered child, whose clothes and face were caked in grime.

“Are you praying to that goddess or whatever again?”

“No!”

The child vigorously shook his head.

“I was trying to do it like the priest taught me! Not to the goddess… I was trying to pray to the celestial being!”

“Son….”

The mother turned her gaze to the messy dining table.

Though they lived a hard life and rarely visited the cathedral—she wasn’t particularly devout—the chaotic state of their home would appear abnormal to anyone, even to someone ignorant of religion.

“I told you, didn’t I? You shouldn’t do this idol worship.”

“But the priest said it was okay.”

“I’ve told you several times it’s not the priest, it’s the inquisitor….”

“But still….”

The child bowed his head sadly. The middle-aged woman couldn’t help but worry that she might be too hard on her young son.

Since martial law was declared in the North, everything had changed. Life became tougher, and the smiles faded from people’s faces. It’s widely known that citizens of the Empire are generally stern and seldom smile, but after the conflict with the magical realm, it felt as if they had forgotten how to laugh.

Though she hoped that someday this tragedy would end and people would smile once more, it was clear that what was lost would never return. Just like her son’s left foot, which had to be amputated due to frostbite from not finding a priest or doctor. Or the family members who had gone missing after joining the army.

Therefore, the middle-aged woman felt her heart ache at the thought of her growing child living with painful memories for the rest of his life.

“Mom said, when the snow stops, Dad will come home….”

“…….”

“So, I….”

A deep silence settled in the house. The child whimpered, his head still bowed, while the mother forced a smile and gently stroked his back.

“Son, it’s okay. I’m not scolding you.”

“…….”

“Go play with the other kids. Make sure to come back before dinner. You can promise me that, right?”

“Yeah….”

“Good, don’t cry.”

The child, having stopped his tears, nodded and left the house.

The house was still messy, and there was much to do, but the mother couldn’t take her eyes off her son as he walked away.

“Sigh….”

With a short breath, either of lament or reflection, calm returned to the Northern home.

Episode 12 – The Strongest Mage in History

Many people with renown from the North have made their mark on the world.

Mikhail, who rose to the highest military rank of Major General and now served as the Commander of the Military Government. Evangelos Rysidike, descended from the great Archmage ‘Rysidike,’ who commanded the Magic Battalion of the Magic Tower. Pereyti, the commander of the Order of Saint Andrew, which boasts a long and storied history dating back to the holy wars during the East-West clash.

Numerous people have made their name in the world, and among them were those I knew well.

Camila Lowell, who came from England.

She possessed a tremendous ability to burn down an entire mountain, which most mages wouldn’t even dare to attempt.

Having graduated from a prestigious university in England, her intellect was sharp, and due to her prowess as an intern at the Information Agency, she received contract extension offers from her supervisor. Her family background was respectable, and she easily adapted to harsh environments thanks to accompanying her sister through various conflict zones.

Francesca Ranieri from Patalia.

Like the Rysidike family, she was a descendant of the great Archmage ‘Ranieri’ and had served as a civil servant in the Magic Tower Secretariat—a true elite alchemist.

Her knowledge of multiple foreign languages and her recognition by both the Magic Tower and Ivory Tower indicated her considerable intelligence. Coming from a prestigious magical lineage, she was adept at manipulating the arcane arts and thoroughly versed in theoretical aspects. Managing the Oracle’s slush fund of the Magic Tower gave her business acumen as well. Being a noble, she was accustomed to dealing with high-ranking military officials and civil servants.

Yet among our group, the person recognized most in the North wasn’t Camila or Francesca, but Lucia.

“The Saint has arrived….”

“Look over there, it’s the Saint!”

Lucia enjoyed the highest recognition among our group in the North.

Her unique status as a religious saint and her experience serving as a healing priest in the North certainly contributed to her popularity, but it was her active support for the public that made her name resonate with the people.

“Thank you so much, really thank you….”

“Thank you for your help, Saint.”

Lucia toured the northern cities under the influence of the Imperial Army, offering assistance to people.

Whenever someone was ill, she personally invoked divine power to perform the Sacrament of Anointing and heal them, and when there were hungry people, she coordinated food distribution with local officials.

It was only natural that crowds gathered around Lucia, as most people in the North were either sick or starving.

Starting at dawn, Lucia held masses for those people gathered around her.

“It is the darkest hour. Suffering and adversity are something everyone experiences in life. No one wishes for pain in their short or long lives.”

“But just as the sky may be filled with dark clouds at times, the brilliant sunlight will shine again one day. This painful time will, in retrospect, seem like nothing.”

“The righteous may face many troubles, but the Lord saves them from all. Even if your hearts are filled with worry, God will lift you from your suffering.”

Waking up at 5 a.m. to hold mass, distributing breakfast to people, cleaning up after meals, and then touring shelters for relief efforts. As lunchtime approached, she would again distribute food, say prayers, and after the distribution was done, she’d go back to care for the patients.

Lucia’s daily life was filled with philanthropy.

Her routine consisted of religious practices and humanitarian efforts without exception, so even if some citizens in the North may not recognize her face, there were hardly any who didn’t know her name.

Camila, Francesca, and I were, to be honest, leading mostly hectic days ourselves, but in Lucia’s presence, we couldn’t even dare to show our struggles. After spending most of the day engaged in high-intensity labor and waking up at dawn to sleep at dawn, it felt absurd to whine about being tired in front of someone like her, who seemed to embody selflessness.

Lucia, dispatched to the North, lived a life that symbolized religious devotion, and it even bordered on obsession, causing me to shake my head in disbelief.

“Wow… Saint, how do you live like that every day? You only sleep three or four hours and are out volunteering; don’t you get tired?”

Lucia smiled brightly at me.

“I’m fine. It’s about helping those in hardship; would it be right to step back because I’m tired?”

“That’ll wear you down.”

“I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

As Lucia responded, she continued to move boxes while speaking with me. These boxes contained relief supplies for the refugees.

“If you’re truly worried about me, why don’t you help me out a bit?”

Lucia suggested, wiping her sweat away with her sleeve. Despite it being a cold winter, she was dripping with perspiration.

“Work is always scarce around here, and since you’ve been to the Magic Tower, you’d adapt quickly, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d rather not.”

“What?”

“No, that’s not it… I’m just a bit busy and can’t assist right now.”

“What a pity.”

Lucia made a disappointed face as she clicked her tongue.

Feeling chills run down my spine at that sight, I involuntarily pulled my coat tighter and shivered.

***

“Looks like today too has come to an end without any trouble.”

“Indeed.”

From a hill overlooking a small city far from the front lines, Lucia and I chatted about various things.

As Lucia sat on a park bench catching her breath, she looked up at the sunset sky with a bright smile.

“Normally, I would have to return to the church to pray at this hour….”

At Lucia’s muttering, the faces of the clergy…

The earth was stained a brown hue.

Lucia, gazing at the sunset, smiled contentedly.

“Well, I don’t think taking a day off will be a big problem.”

With the High Priestess’s declaration of no mass, the priests cheered. Though they didn’t openly show their delight, their faces brightened instantly.

To think the priests would be happy about skipping prayers. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry.

Still, unlike the priests, I wasn’t under Lucia’s thumb, so I felt fortunate. As Lucia asked for a moment alone to discuss something with me, I took the opportunity to sit beside her and casually opened the conversation.

“It seems I’ll be spending the end of the year abroad. Ringing in the new year without even being able to return home, all while working up north.”

“Is it your first time celebrating the New Year abroad?”

“Not exactly… Yes, well, this will be my first time.”

When dispatched overseas, one can unfortunately spend holidays abroad. Lunar New Year, Chuseok, Christmas, and so on. There have been times when I’ve sent a few texts to my family from a safe location during the holidays, only to return to work.

Since taking on the role of Colonel Clevenz’s advisor, I’d at least gotten to rest comfortably at home during holidays. But here I am, back out in the field enduring this hardship.

“Have you ever celebrated the New Year abroad, Saint Lucia?”

“I’ve done that a couple of times. I’ve been here for three years.”

“Ah, that’s right—back then, you were still a minor. You must have had quite a bit of hardship.”

Dimples popped up on her cheeks, illuminated by the reddish glow of the sunset, as Lucia smiled brightly while watching the horizon.

“I don’t see it as hardship. It simply was a job that needed to be done.”

We sat on a hill overlooking a small town, engaging in trivial chatter. Lucia, having finished her schedule earlier than usual, instructed the priests to conduct their evening prayers individually instead of as a group.

The Clerics of the Cult, taken aback by Lucia’s kindness, scattered to spend their personal time. At this point, it felt a bit ambiguous whether to reprimand Lucia for dragging tired people into prayer or to curse the priests who wandered off to have fun instead.

It seemed reasonable to give them a break while performing uncalled-for duties on foreign soil. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps they were neglecting their identities as members of the clergy.

But since this was none of my concern, I simply called out to Lucia, who sat beside me.

“Saint Lucia. I heard there will be people coming from the Cult soon?”

“Are you referring to people? Ah… you mean the volunteers.”

Upon hearing that, I quietly nodded.

The Government of Abas had stepped in to support the Kien Empire, yet Abas wasn’t the only country aiding the Empire.

The Cult and the Magic Tower had already dispatched significant troops to the north, and even dictatorial countries with pro-Empire tendencies were scraping together to lend a hand.

However, relying solely on state support had its limitations, so the Empire decided to also acquire a certain level of support from the private sector. In this context, the Empire’s government decided to bring in foreign volunteers to the north.

Lucia smiled as she gazed at the clear sky that had brightened with the sunset.

“I believe it’s a wise decision. It’s certainly a good thing that people are coming to help the refugees here.”

Well, I couldn’t help but wonder if welcoming foreign volunteers was genuinely a positive thing.

From my experience, some of those individuals wandering around conflict areas under the guise of volunteers weren’t civilians at all. Spies often exploited identities like those of IGO or NGO staff. I was all too familiar with this, having frequently traveled to sub-Saharan Africa myself under the label of a volunteer.

Of course, it could just be an unwarranted worry, but given my profession, I found it hard to trust the volunteers who were set to arrive in the north. I could only hope it was unnecessary concern. What if their actions escalated into diplomatic issues?

However, I couldn’t share these thoughts with Lucia, so I simply sighed while staring at the sky.

“It would be nice if the volunteers come. Saint Lucia, you should leave such matters to them and take a break.”

“If I stop the relief efforts, who will continue them?”

“At this rate, you’ll truly ruin your health. There are numerous individuals who got sick after volunteering abroad.”

“I appreciate your concern. I will take your advice to heart.”

“No, I mean you should put it into practice…”

Just as our conversation was warming up, a priest appeared, trudging up the hill from below.

With neatly cut mint-green bobbed hair, a black clerical robe defined by a black fascia, and a slightly cold expression— it was Priest Rebecca.

“Priest Rebecca? What brings you here?”

“I came up because I heard you were here. I have something urgent to discuss with the Saint and the Colonel.”

“Has something happened in the city?”

“Yes. There seems to be a bit of a problem.”

“What sort of problem is it?”

“It’s a religious issue. It would be easier for you to understand if you saw it for yourselves.”

*

The incident began with a dispute between a Cleric of the Cult and a child.

While a priest circulated the village in a group, he discovered a child playing in the dirt in an open area. However, the child had set up what resembled an altar and was praying, which prompted the priest to chastise the child and search for a guardian.

Up to this point, it appeared to merely be a minor clash between folk beliefs and organized religion.

The Cult forbids idol worship according to their doctrine and does not believe in gods other than the Heavenly God, so it could easily be dismissed as a minor incident where a rigid priest clashed with a local kid.

Yet, something strange caught my attention.

“What? Wasn’t that kid the one who nearly got caught by the Inquisition Officer last time?”

“That’s right.”

The child involved in the argument with the priest was the same one who nearly faced interrogation just a while ago.

Whether it was a coincidence or not, the child had once again been discovered praying to a local deity in the north.

“Did they get caught trying to use sorcery or something again?”

“Seems like that.”

“Oh dear!”

Priest Rebecca explained that the child had been arguing with the priest while attempting to use sorcery.

Lucia seemed inclined to brush it off as a harmless prank by a child who didn’t know better, but Priest Rebecca appeared to think differently.

“It’s crude, but it is indeed sorcery. At least that’s how it looks to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“There were traces of sorcery that couldn’t simply be dismissed as coincidence.”

“Where on earth did that kid learn to set up an altar? Goodness…”

Thus far, I didn’t feel particularly inclined to care. Whether the child was using sorcery or not was of no concern to me.

However, the explanation that followed from Priest Rebecca piqued my interest.

“My subordinate had a brief conversation with the child while protecting them, and the child testified that they learned how to set up the altar and pray from a priest.”

“Are you saying that child learned sorcery from a Cleric of the Cult?”

“They said they learned it from a priest, but judging by their attire, they resemble a monk rather than a priest. There are no priests who wear brown tunics.”

So the child, having set up an altar and prayed to a goddess of the north, claimed to have learned sorcery from a Cleric of the Cult.

As I mentioned before, the Cult denies or disregards any gods other than the Heavenly God and considers worship of any idols outside of holy figures as taboo.

Yet a Cleric taught sorcery to a civilian?

It didn’t add up.

Something felt off.

“……”

I wasn’t entirely sure, but,

“…Do you know where that kid lives?”

It seemed worth investigating.

 

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