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Under the same sky, there cannot be two suns, just as there cannot be more than one saint. This is also revealed in the holy scriptures, transcribed from the words of the celestial beings and the apostles.

The twelve disciples served the celestial beings, but the key to the kingdom of heaven was entrusted only to the favored disciple. If God’s affection for His disciple is such, then what of the love that God holds for His children, and the love that humans share with one another?

Thus, the evaluations of the two saints by the Holy See have starkly diverged.

In terms of political status, high proficiency, the ability to handle the Holy Spirit, connections, and persuasive skills, Veronica has surpassed in many areas. However, it is the general consensus that she falls short in personal demeanor, particularly in her character and speech.

Some say her behavior has drawn disapproving glares due to her wild antics. After all, her successor is characterized as a solid and diligent individual, isn’t she?

On the other hand, Lucia is rated as lagging behind her predecessor in several aspects, yet her character and conduct are deemed far superior. Even those who firmly opposed her sainthood nodded in agreement.

“Shut that mouth and go perish.”

The moment an obscene curse escaped from the lips of a gentleman recognized by the Holy See, the air froze. Everyone gaped in astonishment at the saint.

Lucia, mace in hand, trudged forward.

Her disheveled appearance spitting foul words made her seem like an entirely different person. In the midst of my bewilderment, I suddenly recalled a story I had heard long ago.

“About Lucia. Our little sister. If you ask me, she would have thrived as an Inquisition Officer or an Exorcist had it not been for her becoming a saint.”

Episode 17 – The Blood-drinking Tree

The cold glare of the saint scolding was a stark contrast to what I had heard. I thought perhaps I had mistaken someone.

The madman obsessed with cults was left speechless.

“…”

The woman before him was a detestable devotee, yet rumors of her gentle and obedient nature were well-known. Even when insulted, she was said to smile rather than get angry. They said she was like a fool who only understood flowers and knew nothing of the world. But now…

What on earth is this?

Listen to that voice, lowered beneath the air of the slums.

Look at that face, devoid of even a hint of emotion. It is like a mask.

“…”

The Al Kair madman gazed at the woman with a stiff expression.

Cracks formed on her rosy lips, and the tightly pressed lips fell apart.

“Paul the Apostle said: Let not he who eats despise him who does not eat; and let not he who does not eat judge him who eats, for we all shall stand before the judgment seat of God.”

Her eyelids gently opened, and a soft breath followed.

The saint spoke.

“…The foundation of faith is respect. Every belief deserves respect, and no one has the right to despise or judge others. Let alone condemn each other.”

Her sparkling eyes were fixed on the madman.

“One, you are despising others. You are judging someone else. And now, you seem ready to condemn.”

The saint scolded the madman. It was a chilling rebuke.

“Simply for the reason that you do not share the same faith as others.”

“…”

“That is why your faith is not respected. Faith, after all, arises from respect. Thus, you are heretical, a cultist. So come, receive my mace.”

The saint gestured for him to come forward with the mace. It seemed she would send him off without pain in one blow.

A grotesque twist marred her smile. Brown crust clung to her upper lip, combined with flesh in a repulsive manner.

“The sinner wishes to judge another sinner!”

The old man stretched his arms wide.

His skeletal arms reminiscent of gnarled branches protruded from torn sleeves.

“Your Holy See is no different from a den of sin.”

With a flick, he spread his arms wide. His voice cracked ominously, and his fervent sermon continued, painted with madness.

The arrogant gaze shifted to the saint.

“Did you act in love by placing an innocent woman on the gallows? Did peace flow like a river while beheading heretics? I have seen it. Under the guns of soldiers, my family perished. And the priests praying beside the butchers, only praying while the cries for mercy rang out. It has been over forty years, yet I remember it all clearly.”

“…”

“The foundation of faith is respect? Then how healthy is your faith?”

“Was it for vengeance?”

The saint questioned, and the old man answered.

“No. You cannot gather spilled water again. I have come not for revenge, but to offer salvation.”

The Great Mother sacrificed her body to create the earth. All life in this land is derived from her children. Therefore, harming the earth is an act of treachery against the Mother, a defiance of the divine order.

Every life must return to the mother’s embrace in the primordial state.

Only that can be the true salvation and the path to seek forgiveness.

“Sinful humans must rightly return to the Mother’s embrace.”

The saint’s gaze turned backward. A corpse covered by a tarpaulin became visible.

“Is that what you mean by returning to nature?”

“Yes.”

The madman smiled. A proud smile spread across his face.

“When the sacred tree finishes its growth, all humans on this earth will simultaneously embrace the Mother. The supremely revered Mother will sift through the sinners and cast them into hell, leading the righteous souls to heaven.”

“Judgment is bestowed upon the dead. Forcing a life to the judgment seat is a sacrilegious thought.”

“Do not speak of them as dead. The Mother of all has proclaimed the gospel with mercy and joy. Heaven belongs to them. They eat the Mother’s food, live beside her, and enjoy eternal joy. Even if they die, they are not truly dead.”

She wore an endlessly serene expression.

It was like sweet repose gazing at a meadow, basked in gentle sunlight. The deep wrinkles were soaked with ecstasy. Thus, it was an even more chilling sight.

How many must die? How many must be killed? This is neither salvation nor forgiveness. We cannot call this salvation.

Taking a strong step forward, the saint opened her mouth.

“I will stop this. There will be no massacre, and your plan will fail.”

“This is not a massacre. This is peace.”

“Do you truly believe that peace gained through the death of the innocent is genuine peace?”

Her head tilted.

The madman looked down at the saint. With a genuinely puzzled expression, he opened his mouth.

“What do you call peace? Is it a pack of wolves burning widows alive for their riches, or the knight who hangs heretics across the sea for display? Or is it supporting a dictator who swears to follow the celestial teachings while ignoring those groaning beneath military boots?”

The question was thrown forth.

Once a victim, now the perpetrator, the old man asked. The woman could not respond.

Then the old man continued speaking.

“The Holy See rejoiced when Mauritania finally accepted the celestial beings. The converted ruler met with cardinals, laughing and chatting. In that instance, the Mother of this land lost her children twice. By the dictator’s sword, and by the devotee’s deception. Is this the peace you know?”

“…”

“No words again.”

Lucia closed her eyes.

Did she perceive something in the closed eyes? The old man laughed heartily.

“Ha! Ha ha ha!”

The world seemed to laugh uproariously.

“The gold in hand is proud, yet the blood staining the gold is shameful?”

The woman closed her eyes, and the old man laughed. The faces of the indignant and the tormented were remarkably similar.

A victorious smile emerged. The joyous eyes gazed disdainfully at the sky.

“Love and truth have parted ways, and justice could not kiss peace. Thus, the Holy See has abandoned its own faith. Now, judgment shall come. The whole land will become sulfur and salt, unable to plant nor gain resolution. Lateran will burn! In that cursed land, not even a single blade of grass will sprout!”

The old man asked.

“What now?”

It was not a question, but a mockery.

Slowly, the slightly closed eyelids opened.

With her pink lips parting, Lucia spoke.

“I acknowledge the past wrongdoings of the cult. I deeply regret the crimes committed in the name of God.”

The old man’s mouth closed. His tear-filled eyes captured that moment.

“I understand that behind the justifications of ‘restoring the Holy Land’ and ‘purity of faith’ were foul motives like executions and torture, a festival of profits for merchants, and the expansion of priestly influence. I also recognize that we turned a blind eye to the countless priests and monks who lost their lives fighting against oppression, and failed to listen to the dying cries of those stripped of their rights.”

“…….”

“Even if you are not the direct party involved, I can fully empathize with your pain. As a priest and as a human, I sincerely apologize for the crimes we have committed. The sinners will stand trial alive, and in death, judgment awaits them. I will take full responsibility and correct all of it.”

His wrinkled hands began to tremble. A terrifying light flowed from his bloodshot eyes.

My vision narrowed and faded. My ears felt numb, unable to hear or to be heard. It was as if I had submerged myself in icy river water; my thoughts dulled. The old man, with lips pressed tightly, struggled to move his trembling jaw.

“…Such empty words—”

“One.”

The words were cut off. With a steadfast gaze, Lucia continued to speak, staring at the old man.

“Yet, despite everything, you are still a sinner. Not because you misinterpreted God’s will and served false idols. But because you took innocent lives.”

A human cannot judge or belittle another. Not because God commanded it. Respect and consideration are the roots of all things.

Thus, you are a sinner, Lucia said.

“That anger may seem justified to you. But there is no righteous anger or justified revenge in the world.”

“That’s an insult! Don’t mistake me for an old man blinded by a desire for revenge!”

“Even if your intentions are far from revenge, and regardless of how idealistic your plans may be—once you decided to take innocent lives to realize your ideals, you had already become a sinner.”

In her eyes, which were typically calm and quiet, a swirling hint of white and blue intertwined.

Those unfathomable eyes sparkled with a strange light.

“And that’s why I will stop you.”

The blue and white, light and dark eyes churned as they glared at the old man.

Lucia gazed at the old man. In her hand, she gripped a flanged mace.

The old man glared back at her, raising his staff.

“O Mother of All—!”

Flowers bloom and buds sprout. Green leaves gather as if holding hands. A mystical tree grows, intertwined with the sprouts of spring and autumn.

Countless plants flourished, continuously repeating the cycle of life and decay. Before the spectacle of green and brown flames, humans appeared insignificant.

At the center.

The Saint, with her flanged mace gripped tightly, lowered her stance, and a quiet prayer began to rise from her gentle breast.

“…Depart from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. For the Father loves justice and does not forsake His saints. O Light.”

Please, grant me strength.

The waves of nature washed over the Saint.

*

A massive wave surged. The green and brown tide encapsulated every color present in nature, writhing and pulsating.

The overflowing waves crashed and crashed again. The undulating tide began to unravel the tangled plants violently.

The heavy mace rattled. The flanged mace, made of many metal plates, was a weapon hard to wield with one hand, yet Lucia swung it with ease as if it were a mere toy.

– Bang, crash, crunch.

Tearing, smashing, breaking.

“Have mercy. Please, have pity on us.”

Lucia continued her small voice of prayer.

– Crunch! Smash! Boom-!

The white light wrapped around the flanged mace danced to her rhythm, continuing the song.

Observing this scene, Frederick relayed the situation to his companions.

“Lucia is facing the mad old man. She’s taking the attacks all on her own.”

“Shouldn’t we go help her?”

Camila asked with a worried expression. Frederick cast a glance down at the slums.

– Crashhhh-!

– Boom-!

The entire street was in chaos. Green and brown waves swirled, consuming everything in their path.

A fallen streetlamp shattered into pieces, and old cars parked on the roadside were dragged into the mass. Our own vehicles, brought by the federal government, were also crumpled and pulled into the clutches of the plants.

Lucia was right there.

Swinging her mace, pushing aside stalks and branches, striking with her fists.

She was completely alone, facing off against the onslaught of bizarre creatures from all directions.

“It’s impossible. At least from what I see, it would be hard to help her.”

It wasn’t just plants and Lucia on the street. There were people too.

The evacuation order had been issued for part of the area where the accident occurred. If a full evacuation were declared for the slums, a tremendous number of residents would move. The local government, believing it couldn’t accommodate so many people, only directed evacuations near the “man-eating tree.”

The problem was that this location was far from the tree.

– Aaaaagh!

– It’s a monster! A monster has appeared!

– Come out! Hurry, come out! Grandmother, leave that and come out, please!

– Aaaaargh!

The residents who couldn’t evacuate spilled out into the streets, where the crowd tangled and fell as they fled in all directions. It was happening because they didn’t know where to run.

Within moments, the slums transformed into utter chaos.

The sudden assault brought forth terror, and it’s easy to imagine that the fear would spread, dragging more areas into confusion.

“Evacuate the residents.”

Frederick requested the federal army to help evacuate the residents. The commander’s face darkened.

There followed the retort of how they could evacuate so many people with fewer than a single squad’s worth of troops. But Frederick cut off the discussion by indicating that they should take whoever could flee. The commander, observing the anxious faces around him, eventually led the soldiers down to the street.

Seeing the soldiers hastily descending the stairs, Francesca asked with a suspicious gaze.

“Are they not just going to run away themselves? They looked like they were about to run away earlier.”

If they’re going to flee, then let them go.

“We should go too.”

Frederick slung the bag he rescued from the vehicle over his shoulder. The heavy duffel bag weighed as much as a full military gear, yet he appeared indifferent as he carried it.

“Camila, pass the cube to Francesca. We can’t move through the streets, we’ll need to fly.”

“…Where are we headed?”

Camila clutched her aching side tightly, looking at Frederick. The cube had already been handed over to Francesca as requested.

Frederick tightened his grip on the duffel bag.

“In chess, the game ends when the king is captured, and generals fall when the horse is shot….”

His gaze turned to the distance. To a point about 3 kilometers away. No, around 2 kilometers in the distance.

“We’ll need to carry out some environmental destruction.”

 

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