Love Letter From The Future

→ The Lord Is With Us (46) ←

Cold sweat trickled down the Saintess’ back when she realized the dire situation she was in.

For now, she decided to put up a resistance.

“…Do you really think I’m going to willingly take part in something like this?”

Gilford did not even blink an eye at her refusal.

“Then what other choice do you have?”

Although his words bordered on a threat, his eyes contained sorrow.

He locked eyes with the Saintess and continued.

“Will you be able to defeat both me and the hundreds of demonic beasts lined up outside? Not only that, I also have full control over the flesh seeds. It’s all thanks to me that those monsters are just quietly sitting in the cave right.”

Calculations rapidly went off inside her head—hundreds of beasts, a demonic human of unknown combat prowess, and mythological monsters.

It was a considerable battle force. No, it was to the point that even the knight orders wouldn’t be able to face them. It would take at least an army to achieve victory.

It wasn’t a force that only eight people—seven after excluding the magic scholar who offered little aid in practical combat-–could hope to stand against..

She found herself swaying under the persuasive weight of his words. Enraged by that fact, the Saintess curled her lips and sneered derisively.

“It’s also thanks to you that their numbers are increasing.”

However, even as the Saintess ground her teeth and spat out her words, Gilford only sighed.

“Let’s stop with the pointless chatter. You’re right. I’m a sinner and I deserve to go to hell. I have no complaints about that… If someone has to go to hell in order to save the children, then I am willing to go there.”

“Ha. If someone were to overhear, they might actually think you’re making some kind of great sacrifice. Stop pretending to be some virtuous person, it’s disgusting. All you’re doing is selling off the children as materials for the monsters. ”

Yet, even in the face of the Saintess’ reproach, Gilford’s expression remained unchanged. He had an attitude as if he was already prepared to hear such criticism.

Realizing that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, Gilford shook his head and presented an ultimatum to the Saintess.

“All eight of you must sign the contract under the condition of strict secrecy. If you do so, I will let you all leave safely afterwards. I ask for nothing more.”

His conditions weren’t as bad as she had anticipated. The Saintess fell momentarily silent.

She had exhibited clear signs of hesitation just moments ago but now cast a skeptical glare at Gilford before speaking.

“…How can we trust you?”

“There’s nothing you can do even if you don’t believe my words, is there?”

It was just as he said. The Saintess chewed on her lips.

Gilford’s words echoed in her mind. The ‘reality’ he faced must have been a tall and insurmountable wall. The Saintess had a difficult time denying that in her heart.

Because she too felt the same way.

Whether it was her, who had run away while leaving the children behind, or Gilford, who sacrificed one person to save hundreds, they were the same in a certain regard; Fundamentally, It was to pursue efficiency above all costs.

But it was painful to hear him point out that there is nothing more futile and vain than a sermon without any plausible solution.

For now, the only way to ensure everyone’s safety was to take Gilford’s offer.

The Saintess, after a moment of hesitation, let out a sigh as if to say that there was no other choice.

“…Alright.”

She resented herself for coming to Gilford alone, naively trusting her Spirit Eye.

Suddenly, a man crossed her mind. A man with golden eyes, who had always scratched at the Saintess’s heart.

‘Don’t put too much faith in that ‘sight’ of yours. One day, you may come to regret it. Humans are beings that can’t be ascertained with just a single look. They have so many sides that even if you see them numerous times, they might still have a hidden aspect you don’t know about.’

It was just as he advised. The Saintess suddenly found herself yearning for that man.

He was violent, brutal, and a horrible bully for the Saintess, but beyond all of that, he was honest to a fault.

He treated commoners and orphans equally. She admired that about him. The Saintess was an orphan herself. In the past, she had only seen people who pitied orphans in public but scorned them behind closed doors.

But he was an exception. He didn’t mask his true intentions, be they good or evil. He was fundamentally different from people like the Saintess or Gilford.

Realizing this, a forlorn smile graced her lips.

She had been cursing Ian as trash until now, but when confronted with another person so similar to herself, she felt unqualified to say such things to him.

The Saintess slowly walked in front of the magic circle drawn on the table with blood. Gilford shifted aside, offering her the seat beside him.

He continued his explanation in a low voice.

“All you have to do is to let a single drop of blood fall into the center.”

The Saintess sighed deeply.

She raised her hand, a displeased expression on her face. It seemed as if she just wanted to just get it over with by allowing a drop of blood to fall into the center of the magic circle.

And at that moment.

With a thud, the Saintess’ hand pushed against Gilford’s shoulders. As Gilford took a step back in surprise, the Saintess’ body burrowed into his arms.

It was a sneak attack worthy of inclusion in the Holy Nation’s skill manual.

The Saintess gripped Gilford’s arm with both hands and exerted all her strength to drive him into the ground.

The Holy Nation’s Secret Arts, Moon Reversal

When executed correctly, the move was powerful enough to paralyze the opponent temporarily. The Saintess was grateful that her acting skills that she had honed over the years had finally shone through.

Thanks to that, she had managed to catch Gilford off guard. The entire conversation, up to the moment the contract was about to be signed, was all an act.

However, the Saintess’ gratitude was short-lived.

It was because Gilford’s body showed no sign of moving; not even an inch.

The Saintess’ eyes grew vacant as she continued to strain, trying to flip Gilford onto his back.

The reason why Moon Reversal was so terrifying was because not even the strongest opponent could resist it.

Regardless of their physical strength, it was impossible for them to stay grounded with both feet firmly planted. The only other factor that could have contributed was their mass.

However, he didn’t even budge. Something was strange.

And just as the Saintess’ bewildered gaze turned to him.

The old man’s hand violently grabbed the Saintess’ wrist with a snap. He twisted her body and directed her hand toward the magic circle.

The Saintess couldn’t help but let out a scream.

“K-kyaaaa! Th-that hurts! S-Stop!”

“…I apologize. Please do not forgive me for this.”

Gilford offered a simple apology before drawing his sword. The Saintess found herself powerless against his ferocious strength.

Her eyes were filled with fear.

He claimed it was contract magic, but there was no way to figure out the contents engraved inside. There was a possibility that this contract would bind her as a slave to the Dark Order for the rest of her life.

No, that likelihood was high. There was no way the Dark Order would have made a legitimate, proper magic circle.

Amid her fear, the faces of the people who could aid her flashed in the Saintess’ mind. Usually, the first person that came to her mind was Yuren.

Her trustworthy bodyguard.

Yet, for some unknown reason, a particular man’s image was firmly etched in her thoughts.

Perhaps it was because Yuren and she were similar as individuals. While they could empathize with each other, there was no sense of adoration or friendship beyond that connection.

Their relationship was closer to siblings rather than anything else.

However, that man was different. He didn’t mince words and was often cocky. He always had something to say, but there was one trait that stood out.

He didn’t lie. That was why the Saintess could trust him.

Perhaps, for the first time in her life, the Saintess wanted to trust someone.

So she cried out involuntarily.

“H-Help…! Help I-”

Just as she was about to finish her shout with “-an”, her eyes widened.

It was due to the shrill sound that grated on her ears.

Gilford and the Saintess simultaneously turned their eyes to the room’s entrance.

Something was hurtling toward them—a hatchet aimed for Gilford’s head.

At the last moment, Gilford swiftly tilted his head with surprising reflexes. Although the hatchet came perilously close to hitting his head, he had the guts to keep his grip on the Saintess’s wrist.

If Gilford could somehow bind the Saintess with the contract magic, everything that followed would be a breeze. He would at least get the Saintess to cooperate with him.

The condition was for ‘all eight people not to disclose any secrets,’ and after the contract was sealed, it wouldn’t be enough for only the Saintess to keep her mouth shut.

In other words, the Saintess was obliged to keep the rest of the group quiet. Gilford aimed for this particular point, so he wished to have the Saintess seal the contract first.

It would have been better if he had a little bit more time, but now it was too late.

It seemed like Gilford’s true identity had been discovered.

After considering all possible scenarios, Gilford forcibly twisted the Saintess’ arm. He then began to infuse his fingernails with a faint aura.

It was a skill that only a highly skilled swordsman could execute. However, just as the aura was about to pierce the Saintess’s finger—

Squelch.

The hatchet lodged into Gilford’s wrist, the very hand that had been restraining the Saintess.

Blood gushed forth, and searing pain shot through Gilford’s nerves. Even then, his eyes remained wide open in disbelief.

The hatchet, which had been heading for his head, suddenly changed direction at an impossible angle and embedded itself in his wrist.

It defied the laws of physics. It was a variable that even a skilled swordsman like Gilford couldn’t have foreseen.

“…….Keuaaaaahk!”

Overwhelmed by the unexpected and sudden pain, he released the Saintess and clutched his injured wrist. A belated scream resonated through the director’s office.

The Saintess wasted no time and swiftly moved out of Gilford’s reach. He tried to capture her once he regained his composure, but the hatchet that was lodged into his wrist moved on its own and returned to someone’s hand with a whoosh.

As the hatchet was removed, blood sprayed into the air once more. Gilford gritted his teeth and suppressed a groan.

His eyes turned to the door, where he saw a figure entering.

Black hair, golden eyes.

There was no way he didn’t recognize him. After all, It was someone who had devoted himself to the orphanage for the past few days.

Gilford’s eyes clouded with guilt once again when he saw the man in front of him.

He let out a deep sigh but he couldn’t muster the courage to meet the man’s eyes. The pain in his wrist faded, eclipsed by shame.

“…Young Master Ian.”

“Mr. Gilford.”

That was all Ian said. After confirming that the Saintess was hiding behind him, a faint smile appeared on his face.

The smile was tinged with all kinds of unknown emotions––anger, distrust, or perhaps even pity.

He smiled sadly and directed his words to Gilford.

“Get your hands off my holy power pouch.”

The story was now racing to its conclusion.

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