“Isn’t it?” The matron looked genuinely shocked. For some reason, the way she looked at Muen now carried a faint judgment—as if she were looking at a scoundrel.
“Of course not. When I said motivation, I meant—...never mind.”
Muen gave a wry smile and shook his head. He knew there was no explaining it clearly anyway. His reason... was nothing more than a reason that made him make that choice.
He simply stepped away from the problem for now and walked to the other side.
Pero was sitting in the corner, hugging his knees.
“Strange.”
Muen studied him carefully, rubbing his chin.
“With such a dramatic entrance from me, saving you from fire and death, I thought you’d come rushing over to hug me in excitement.”
“...I was going to.”
“Hm?”
Muen immediately grew alert.
“So you really were planning to hug me... what a shame. I’m not a priest. I don’t like little boys.”
“...”
“So quiet? That’s not like you.”
“It’s nothing. I just think it’s embarrassing,” Pero said, shooting him a glare.
“Embarrassing?” Muen raised a brow. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d say either.”
“Yes. It is embarrassing.”
Pero buried his head back between his knees, his face hidden.
“A long time ago, I made a vow. I would protect my sister. That’s the most important meaning of my life.”
“You’ve done a pretty good job of that.”
Muen glanced at Aviva, who was already fully focused on helping with the work.
“Haven’t you protected her well? Even though you’re the younger one.”
“I haven’t!”
Pero’s voice suddenly rose.
“I haven’t done anything... not when my sister got sick, not this time either. I didn’t protect her, I didn’t help at all, and I even... because I’m useless, I got other people hurt.”
His voice grew quieter and quieter.
“In the end, the only thing I can do is pray for someone else to save me. And even that prayer...”
Because of those images, even that had wavered just now.
That part, no matter what, he could not bring himself to say out loud.
Perhaps that was what shamed him the most.
“I’m just a useless piece of trash.”
Pero clenched the bills tightly in his hand.
“...”
Listening to words that were, for a brat like this, either far too mature or far too childish, Muen didn’t rush to refute anything. He simply let out a quiet sigh.
“You’re insulting quite a lot of people with that statement.”
“Huh?” Pero froze.
“Can’t do anything. Can’t do anything right. Things get worse because of your own incompetence. And in the end... all you can do is pray.”
Muen spread his arms, as if trying to encompass the whole world.
“Aren’t there people like that everywhere? Over there, there, and there—so many you can’t even count. Not long ago, I ran into someone like that. All that guy did was carve himself up and pray over and over. Utterly useless.”
“There... are people like that?” Pero looked stunned.
“Of course there are. In fact...”
Muen lowered his arms and pointed at himself.
“Even I feel personally attacked.”
“Huh? How could you—”
Pero looked up in even greater shock.
In his eyes, this man was all-powerful. Someone who could effortlessly solve all his problems. Someone like a savior.
And yet he was saying he was useless?
“You don’t have to put yourself down just to comfort me,” Pero muttered.
“I’m not that kind. It’s just the truth. If I could really make everything go the way I want... then you wouldn’t be seeing me here right now. And none of this would’ve happened.”
Muen looked out at the disaster still spreading in the distance.
“It’s precisely because I failed that everything started to spiral out of control.”
“Failed... you mean—”
“That’s right. The version of me you’re looking at now is just a failure. Someone who already lost the first round before even stepping onto the stage, and can only start over using underhanded tricks... a pretty despicable adult.”
Muen slapped Pero on the back, making him stumble.
“So don’t start brooding like the end of the world has come when you’re barely fourteen. Being weak and powerless isn’t the worst thing in this world. Giving up on yourself is.”
“Wh—who’s giving up? And I’m already fourteen!”
Pero slapped Muen’s hand away, baring his teeth.
“I’m just... just... just storing up energy, that’s all. Yeah, storing energy!”
“Then are you done storing it?”
“...I...”
Pero seemed to think of something. A hazy light flickered in his eyes as he suddenly lunged forward and hugged Muen.
“Hey, I already told you I don’t like little boys—hm?”
Muen’s brows lifted. He suddenly noticed something extremely off.
“You—”
“Hey.”
Pero cut him off.
“Can I become like you? Strong... like a hero who can step in and save people when it matters?”
“Who can guarantee something like that? That’s up to you.”
“Then can you teach me?”
“You mean—”
“I...”
Pero lifted his head, took a deep breath, and gathered his courage.
“I want to become your disciple!”
“Huh? Disciple?”
Caught off guard, Muen almost bit his tongue.
“No?” The hope in Pero’s eyes flickered, then dimmed. “I guess I don’t have what it takes...”
“That has nothing to do with whether you qualify or not.”
Muen gave a helpless smile.
“The problem is, I don’t know how to teach people. The path I’m walking is... special. Ordinary people can’t really replicate it. And right now I’m still a disciple myself, dealing with a teacher who’s incredibly troublesome and has a terrible personality.”
“So... I don’t think I could teach anyone properly.”
“I see...” Pero lowered his head, disappointed.
“But...”
Unwilling to let that already faint light go out completely, Muen thought for a moment and said,
“You might not be able to become my disciple, but you could... become my believer.”
“Believer?”
“Ta-da! The very first believer of the Black Sun. A one-of-a-kind honor!”
Muen extended his palm.
Black flames flickered silently, gathering into a small sphere in his hand.
There was no sacred halo, no imposing shape. It simply hovered there, quietly “watching” Pero.
Pero stared at the black sun.
“What is this? Some kind of cult?” he said with a look of distaste.
“Watch your mouth! This has been personally verified by the Church’s Saintess as a perfectly legitimate—well, mostly legitimate—good god. Sure, right now it’s mostly just a title with no real function, and it can’t grant your wishes or anything...”
Muen paused.
“But I think... it can at least point you in a direction.”
“A direction...?”
“That’s right! And if you join now, you get a first-believer starter pack! Like a beginner’s guide to getting stronger—even a monkey could follow it. ...Okay, fine, it’s actually just some magic books I grabbed from my dad’s study. Covers everything from beginner stuff to Radiant-tier spells. No idea why he kept them. He can’t even cast a basic light spell.”
With his other hand, Muen flipped something out—a thick tome.
“This really isn’t a cult? You’re even offering something this valuable?” Pero’s lips twitched.
“Relax. I never lie to kids.”
Muen held out his hand.
“It’s free. Why not believe a little?”
“...”
That unreliable feeling only grew stronger.
But Pero understood that whether this was a religion or not didn’t matter. This man was just trying to comfort him in his own way.
Even so... for some reason, that small black sun seemed to exert a strange pull on him.
Almost unconsciously, Pero reached out and took it.
Suddenly, the bills he had been clutching were instantly burned by the black sun, turning to ash and merging into it.
Watching this, Pero did not feel angry at losing his precious money. Instead, he felt a faint connection form between himself and the small black sun.
He couldn’t describe it. He only felt that if there was ever a next time—no matter how desperate things became—he would no longer doubt that he would be saved.
Was this... faith?
For no clear reason, Pero thought of his sister, lying in bed, praying to the Goddess every day despite her illness.
Because to her, the Goddess was faith.
“It’s cold,” Pero murmured, holding the black sun. “But it feels warm.”
...
“Hm?”
At the moment Pero grasped the black sun, Muen suddenly felt the true black sun in his mental space tremble slightly. Even the sacred halo seemed to ripple faintly.
But the sensation vanished just as quickly, as if it had never happened.
“Just my imagination?”
Muen shook his head and didn’t dwell on the subtle change.
With the child comforted, he returned to the matron.
“Have the children get ready. We’re moving.”
“Moving? Moving where?”
Unease filled the matron’s eyes. After settling the others, she had taken a moment to observe the surroundings. What she saw was worse than she had imagined.
The security forces, the garrison, the royal knights—those who had existed to protect the city—were now slaughtering people across the entire West District.
Flames raged. Entire blocks were turning into ruins. And yet at a time like this, the Church had made no response.
She had tried to contact them several times, but the cathedral seemed completely sealed off. No reply came.
“The cathedral’s probably in trouble too.”
Muen saw through her thoughts and awkwardly rubbed his nose. In a way... he wasn’t exactly innocent in that situation.
“We’re heading somewhere that’s relatively safe for now.”
“Safe?”
The matron’s eyes lit up. Food, water, warm lights—images rose instinctively in her mind.
“Where is it?”
“...The cemetery.”
