Chapter 241

Chapter 241

Scratch, scratch—.

Countless quill pens floated in midair and wrote lines of text across sheets of paper.

“...”

Soon, their owner—the bishop, Bae Seogyeong—let out a sigh.

“Hoo...”

In response, the quills that had been floating in the air descended one by one and settled on the desk. The long, enormous desk, as long as a banquet hall table, easily contained all those items.

‘An answer doesn’t come easily.’

The papers spread thick enough to feel soft were densely filled with writing. They depicted the relationship between humans and divinity. There were also descriptions of human limits. And there were stories of what happens when humans become divinity, and when divinity becomes human.

“...”

Bae Seogyeong stood still and watched it.

‘The saintess’s condition has stabilized a lot.’

Hunter Seo Gio said he had balanced her mind and body. Which meant that when the weight tipped further toward either human or mystery, the saintess’s fate would be decided.

‘...But still, just a little more... the saintess still has many things she hasn’t learned...’

No—no.

‘...It’s all excuses.’

The saintess was the scholar who held the most knowledge within the Moon Lady Religion. She knew the effort the saintess had put in, and the results she had shown. She must not disregard that. Doing so would be the same as disregarding the saintess herself.

“...It is not even a matter I dare agonize over.”

In the end, every choice would be made by the saintess.

‘I have to trust her judgment.’

Whether she sharpens her abilities once more and becomes divinity as the Moon, or is satisfied with the current peaceful life and pursues learning. Or even another path altogether—everything had to flow as the saintess wanted.

‘Even so, why am I... hesitating like this?’

She didn’t even know what she was hesitating over.

‘Why? Over what? What am I even trying to do?’

Was she saying she still couldn’t fall asleep even now, with the moon about to set?

“...”

In the end, it was all futile.

“A mere tiny creature...”

No matter how much she clawed and struggled, she was beneath her teacher’s knowledge. She could not be wiser than the Moon. She could not accomplish as much as a saint. Even knowing that, acting this foolishly only proved her own shortcomings.

And yet, she couldn’t help thinking.

‘...If I could become even a little more perfect.’

Then.

‘Could I stay by that child’s side?’

A question the saintess once asked, when she sat in the saintess’s seat one day. When she asked if the Moon Lady’s embrace was this frightening as well, the bishop had only pressed her. That she was foolish. That she needed to become more perfect.

And she said it was so the Moon Lady could be made warmer.

“...Ugh.”

The hand braced on the desk trembled.

“Uwek, kek, kehheuk...”

She clung to the desk and sank down.

‘How many times do I have to repeat this?’

The disgust suffocated her.

She had already sent off three saints in Korea alone. Among them, there were those who became divinity, and those who remained human. There were those revealed to the world, and those hidden away.

Through them, Bae Seogyeong learned that even “providence” could be horrific—when providence and humans inevitably meet.

‘Just how much more must be repeated before this world can improve?’

As terrifying as it was, she couldn’t even imagine being able to break this yoke. She had only begun, and could only desperately hope that somewhere there was an end.

The bishop was someone born before the Great Catastrophe. The worst she had known became the best of the present. If only they could return to how it was before the Great Catastrophe, even if just that much. If only that were possible, she wanted to do it even if she had to offer everything she had.

‘If only I had possessed the qualifications of a saint.’

It wasn’t a thought unique to her. And the Moon Lady Religion was a gathering of people who thought the same. Let us fix the world with the vast knowledge of the universe. Let us make it better. A little faster, even if only a little.

‘Not them, but me... me...’

Only then could she avoid passing this horror on to future generations. The sacrifices of today were for the sake of the future.

“...”

After catching her breath, she returned to her cold face once more.

‘...It is all futile.’

Bae Seogyeong rose from her seat.

She smoothed her crumpled clothes, cleared away what had been soiled, and fixed her wretched appearance. The bishop was the one who soothed and coaxed her fellow brothers. Among humans, she had to be the most perfect.

‘All of this research is meaningless.’

Bae Seogyeong, who wasn’t even a proper vessel, could not become a saint. She could not become divinity. She could not even hold mystery beyond a certain degree. No matter how much she fought and clawed, she was human in the end. She could not become a star that remained at the side of a saint who became the Moon.

‘The saintess is doing very well. She has confidence in her own path, and pride as well. To reveal human longing now would only be unpleasant. Even if a clumsy star made by force remains by that lofty moon’s side, what good would that do?’

If she could not provide proper help, she at least had to stay still. This was the Moon Lady Religion. It affirms all knowledge and emotions. They had the duty to possess more diverse knowledge and wisdom.

‘Above all, this is ultimately for my own satisfaction—it is not an act that respects the saintess. I cannot ruin things with my shabby selfishness.’

Bae Seogyeong looked at the research materials strewn across the table.

“...”

Around her was filth from her blood and chunks of flesh.

“...Yes, I should clean it.”

This helped nothing at all.

The moment she finally reached a conclusion, exhaustion surged in. Tomorrow, it seemed she would be unable to see the saintess because she would be recuperating. The bishop swept her hand and lightly cleaned the laboratory. She decided she would sort out the materials that needed to be burned tomorrow.

‘After offering my report, I should rest immediately.’

In her impatience, she had foolishly overdone it.

‘The saintess’s path will be decided by fate—how pathetic, to cling like this.’

The Moon Lady Religion respected the freedom of one’s fellow brothers. Even laying down the priesthood was permitted if you erased your memories. One of the few rules they kept was that before sleeping, they reported the day’s work to the Moon Lady.

The bishop moved her feet toward the prayer chamber.

“...”

The prayer chamber, like an enormous pupil, was like looking up at the night sky. That dark ceiling’s end could not be measured, and on the floor—so hard to even confirm its existence—there was a transparent lake.

A pitch-black night without moon, stars, or clouds. This was a mysterious space made for communication with the Moon Lady. If you were lucky, you could sometimes meet their teacher floating above the lake.

‘He is not here today either.’

The saintess’s poor condition lately must have played a role. Without the saintess’s help as a medium, it was difficult for them to see their teacher’s face even once.

The bishop knelt in a space shaped like a terrace.

‘May even this pitiful knowledge I gained today be held within the Moon Lady...’

It was after quite some time had passed.

“...”

“...”

“...?”

The bishop opened her eyes at the light seeping in between her eyelids.

“...Ah.”

A pure white, round Moon Lady.

And she saw ‘something.’

* * *

It was a half head.

Where there should have been a brain, eyes, and ears, there was nothing. It was like only the bottom of a shattered porcelain jar remained. Within it, an intoxicating golden liquid flowed out. It ran like a thin stream, brushing past lips curled in a smile.

It had three pairs of hands and arms.

The highest held a ram’s skull with geometric horns above the half head. The middle cradled the sacred Moon Lady like a child. The lowest spread out to either side, looking down upon the world through golden eyes embedded in its palms.

A tail was coiled around its legs.

Fine fur fluttering like a silk curtain. The red tail looked like a beast’s, or like a made ornament, or like an aurora in the sky. It seemed touchable, yet also like an illusion. It wavered, wrapped around the left of two legs posed as if in a tree stance.

“...”

The radiance it wore was crimson wings.

Soaked in blood, which dripped down and soon fell—or seeped—into the lake below. There were countless of them, as if ripped from a bird without mercy, their cut edges rough. Too many to count, they trembled in pain, perhaps twitching or quivering as if laughing.

“...”

Its voice... she could not distinguish its number or time.

“Little beast.”

Who, and how many, were speaking—in the past, the present, the future?

“I, who sleep in the last coffin, speak.”

“How pitiful.” “Whose is your conviction?” “You do not even know your own emotions.” “Are you angry?” “How lamentable.” “You have been tamed.” “Have you never learned?” “Beg of me!” “Is what you thought conviction truly so?” “You are afraid.” “Were you not born human?” “What are you doing?” “If it is fun, that is enough!” “It seems you have never learned.” “If you cannot be angry, how can you be called human.” “It is lingering attachment, not conviction either.” “You cannot even hold malice.” “Look upon the world.” “Rejoice!” “Be angry.” “If not that, then you, little beast.” “What can you do.” “Such a tiny thing.”

“...The dream was long.”

“I will speak a little more with your teacher.”

“Now you may awaken.”

“The moon has set.”

* * *

“—Bishop.”

“...”

“Bishop?”

At the call of a fellow brother, the bishop opened her eyes.

“...”

“Why are you sweating so coldly?”

“...Just now, I...”

“Did you perhaps see our teacher?”

“I...”

Her breath trembled.

“...”

The world came into view.

The pitch-black prayer chamber where nothing floated. The fellow brother who had come to check on her because she still hadn’t returned late at night. The clock hanging on the terrace. It seemed she had dreamed while praying.

But was it truly a dream?

“...What did I see?”

And what did I hear?

* * *

“I understand.”

“What do you understand?”

“I understand everything the Moon Lady Religion has done.”

“That is...”

Looking at the portrait, Juhyeon tilted his head.

“Isn’t it a horrific human sacrifice?”

“I affirm your words.”

“I thought you, Mr. Gio, wouldn’t like that very much.”

“I do not affirm even that.”

“Aha.”

“It is acknowledging the reason for that existence apart from my personal likes and dislikes.”

There was no right and wrong in the world’s fate. Did those countless branches extend while examining human ethics and morality?

“People are diverse. Even the limits of their boundaries vary greatly. Thinking beings constantly create variables. Everyone calls that fate, but I think it is merely a natural flow.”

Fate was not something grand.

“If a child who likes cake grows up in an environment where they cannot eat cake, there is a high probability they will become obsessed with cake. What do you think of this, Mr. Juhyeon?”

“You’re right, Mr. Gio.”

“All flows in the world are like this.”

“I understand that too.”

“And so it is with the Moon Lady Religion.”

Gio defined it as something regrettable.

“They do not even know that sin is sin.”

Of course. The Great Catastrophe took away all existing ethics and morality. Now, at best, they only imitate them. Even now, people were casting away many things for the sake of their own survival and the survival of what they held dear.

Personal likes and dislikes, the good and evil of conviction, and every concept that existed in the world—people knew none of it properly. They were like newborns. This was not a story unique to the Moon Lady Religion, but still.

“The Moon Lady Religion found a way, during that Great Catastrophe, to end these countless tragedies even a moment faster. It was the act of the Moon Lady Religion’s saint becoming divinity and changing the Moon Lady into warmth. What do you think of this, Mr. Juhyeon?”

“...I also want to end the countless tragedies of this era as quickly as possible. But even so, I don’t want to offer perfectly fine people as sacrifices like the Moon Lady Religion does. That’s too disgusting.”

Juhyeon laughed emptily.

“Peace gained in that way has no meaning.”

“No one told the Moon Lady Religion that fact.”

“At that age, isn’t it something they should realize on their own?”

“No one told them, so they should have realized it, but many people did not—and so the world became what it is now.”

“...Yes. The Association’s research institute is the same.”

“Far more people live not knowing that sin is sin.”

Even though that was the road to ruin, people were busy looking only one step ahead. And those who looked far looked too far, unable to see even their own surroundings.

“The sinner is clear, but the origin of the sin is vague.”

Who made the first mistake?

“The Great Catastrophe, which was merely a natural disaster?”

Or the first saint of the Moon Lady Religion, who sought to save the future even by sacrificing themselves?

“The saints who recognized sin within a closed culture but mistook it as sacrifice as well? The Moon Lady Religion priests who become tainted by immorality hidden beneath noble sacrifice, and affirm both their own and others’ sacrifices?”

“...I don’t know.”

“That’s right. The Moon Lady Religion are all both scapegoats and sinners. Within all that fate, they committed sin. People always commit sins, big and small, throughout life.”

“But isn’t the Moon Lady Religion’s sin too great?”

“A sin can only be eradicated if you tear out its beginning by the roots. What do you think about that, Mr. Juhyeon?”

“But... this is a situation where you can’t find the root.”

Every year, the Moon Lady Religion recruits priests of all kinds. To get a home and food. Because they don’t want to be alone. For honor. To want more wisdom. Because they want to become perfect beings. They join the Moon Lady Religion.

Most of them are children. All the Moon Lady Religion priests grew up there from childhood. And children who longed for supreme wisdom and honor grew up into the Moon Lady Religion’s adults. Beginning and end. Whose fault is it?

“So now, two fates remain for the Moon Lady Religion.”

“What are they?”

“Learning, or punishment.”

“Both are things you can bestow, Mr. Gio?”

“I can bestow neither.”

However, Argio opened the channel.

“For now... starting from the top.”

When the upper waters shake, the lower waters shake as well.

“I think the story of ‘a sect priest who fell to the evil god’s whispering’ is a quite interesting cliché.”

“I don’t know the details, but let us wish peace to the Moon Lady Religion bishop’s fate...”

(Continued in the next part)