Linus, who had been connected to Maria by the pope and the king, was being shown her past. Not only what she had seen and heard, but also what she had been thinking at the time, and what she thought now when she looked back on those memories: Everything had been laid completely bare. It was a miserable, tragic thing, filled with lamentation, hatred, and self-loathing.
Maria Afenjuns was a defiled saint.
“Now, come, worship Lord Origin. Then your souls will be saved, everyone!” While preaching to the people about the salvation of their souls and how faith was the key to happiness…
And sometimes even exposing the wicked ulterior motives of blasphemous priests…
“Because of your filthy desires, you will be eliminated as the useless thing you are.” Once they were alone, she killed him. That was the sort of role she was given.
“Well done, Saint. Lord Origin will surely be pleased as well.”
“Thank you.” How did things turn out like this? She had already stopped thinking about it.
“Why do people go against the church’s wishes?” A cardinal had said that.
“I struggle to understand why they do not follow Lord Origin’s will.” The king had said that.
“It is the role of the Saint to correct and purify. Please carry out that task admirably.” The pope had said that. They all spoke. You are the Saint. You are the bearer of impurity. You are the sacrifice. Correct them. Correct them. Stain your hands with blood. Purify. Purify. Stain your hands with filth. And when you return to the royal capital after finishing your duty, your family will welcome you.
“Big sister! I wanna sleep together with you today!” Sara played innocently with her.
“Sounds like you had it rough again this time.” Johnny showed her concern.
“Eat lots of delicious food and recharge your energy before your next job!” Ed encouraged her.
“Come now, it’s okay to let us pamper you when you’re home.” Elune embraced her like a mother.
They were all loving, warm, and kind. Her heart ached. The closer she got to the light, the more her own shadow stood out. No justification, no excuse, could cover up this defilement.
Maria learned everything six years ago, when she was twelve years old. At that time, she was a proper, respectable clergywoman and a devout believer in Origin. She was also developing steadily as a magician, and her beauty was making her something of a symbolic figure for the church. That was when the pope and the others set their eyes on her. They intentionally created the position of saint and had placed her there. She was made to be the direct subordinate of the pope and had authority second only to the cardinals.
However, in reality, she was nothing more than a puppet made to conveniently follow the orders of the pope and the cardinals. For the sake of the faith, Lord Origin wills it—they deceived her with such words and had her kill people. Sometimes, she used seductive techniques to achieve those ends. Her heart was worn down and battered, and she could feel herself becoming tainted. She had thought about exposing this dark side of the church and freeing herself from everything. But before she could do that, she found out.
The Saint had been granted some authority, so she was able to view secret documents hidden in the cathedral. There, the truth from ten years ago had been recorded. The perpetrators were demons. The pope was the one who gave the order: Pagan villages needed to be crushed, partly as a warning to others. If possible, prioritize villages with people who may be useful. A girl with light-attribute qualities had been discovered. The pope had the demons attack the village to secure the girl and other experimental materials.
In other words, it’s your fault. You killed everyone. Surely there is no way someone like you could ever deserve salvation, right? That’s right, Maria Afenjuns.