Chapter 203: Pilgrimage (2)
The attempt to assassinate the Saint failed miserably.
From morning on, Ray wore a troubled expression.
It still feels like its lingering in my mouth, he complained.
Iriel shook her head in disapproval.
You shouldve left my room more quickly, she chided.
He had been scolded for not fleeing his room swiftly enough.
To try to rid his mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste, he looked out at the scenery from the carriage window.
Outside, a crowd seeking healing had formed around the healers and priests.
Its serious, he thought.
Each person exhibited signs of protein deficiency.
Without money, they couldnt afford meat in their diets.
Why not replace it with plant-based proteins like beans?
However, that wasnt a feasible option.
Though both plant and animal proteins consist of amino acids, theres a major difference.
Animal proteins provide all twenty essential amino acids, while plant proteins are missing some.
Their poor condition stemmed from this lack of essential amino acids.
Dark circles under their eyes stood out, and fatigue had reddened their eyes.
Malnourished children were stunted in their growth, and even the young ones showed hair loss.
Long-term deficiency would likely lead to a lack of norepinephrine, impairing blood flow to their muscles.
Additionally, they could become unfocused and possibly develop hyperactivity disorders.
This wasnt just an issue for the local lord, but a matter that the Silia Kingdom had to confront with urgency.
What use was a flourishing capital if its people were on the verge of starvation?
Ray sighed and turned to Iriel with a question.
How much funds can we mobilize under the current circumstances?
Hmm perhaps around twenty platinum coins? But why do you inquire?
Twenty platinum coins. Well use all of it.
May I know the reason?
He gestured to the scene outside. Look around you. The skeletons raised by necromancers look better than this. If we ignore this, its no exaggeration to say people will die.
After a moments thought, Iriel nodded her agreement.
Helping those in difficult situations can also be regarded as a pilgrimage. Understood.
As she prepared to step down from the carriage, she added with a radiant smile,
Theres no need to borrow funds. Just as Ray is a Saint, I, too, am a Saintess. So please, lets not talk about borrowing for such a cause.
Why is she choosing such beautiful words today?
He looked at her and returned the smile.
You truly are a Saintess.
Following the instructions of the Saints, the lengthy procession of the Holy Kingdom came to a stop.
Using Iriels funds, they procured various ingredients from different regions, and simple meals were prepared, drawing villagers one by one.
With the scent of warm food wafting through the air, their interest was inevitable.
Salivating, people gathered around the food as knights and priests served the meals on plates, announcing,
We will distribute food here, everyone gather!
At that call, a multitude of people thronged to the spot.
Starving individuals emerged from all around to join the throng.
The healers, standing by, arranged them into orderly lines.
Theres enough food for everyone! Form a proper line to receive your meal!
Bring all the villagers! Theres plenty for everyone to eat their fill!
Tears mingled with cheers arose from several quarters.
Even the royal capital had not provided adequate relief supplies.
More people were dying from hunger than from illness in this place.
The vision of them boiling thin porridge made from tree bark to sustain their lives underscored the severity of their plight.
The compassion shown by the Holy Kingdom became like a long-awaited rain, revitalizing their weary bodies.
Ray gazed out the window at this scene and murmured,
Its moments like these that make being a Saint feel worthwhile
Iriel echoed his sentiment.
Its because youre earnestly embracing your role as a Saint.
Too earnestly, thats the issue.
He still could not fathom why the deity had chosen him to be a Saint.
Perhaps someone with a different, kinder nature would have been better suited for the role of a Saint.
But suddenly, witnessing the villagers joy and tears, he thought, Maybe the Goddess Gaia chose me as a Saint to witness these moments?
Well, thats unlikely.
He shrugged it off nonchalantly and lay down.
The beautiful night sky outside the window and the village, illuminated by bonfires, provided a perfect scene for sleep.
The remaining memories are nothing but unpleasant.
She lost her parents in the war.
Thats the whole story.
She vividly remembers her parents hot blood pouring down her back and their last breaths.
Not long after, she felt a hot pain on her face from the soldiers outstretched swords.
After that well, shes not sure.
She remembers desperately fleeing, fuelled by the thought of escape.
The hateful war, which seemed endlessly long, finally ended.
When she returned to the house where the memories of that day lingered, she found two cold, decaying bodies.
The girl carefully embraced them and buried them with respect.
No tears flowed.
Her emotionless eyes calmly observed the grave.
She brushed off the dirt and blood caked on her hands onto her skirt and left.
In a typical war, death is common. Even if one escapes, starvation awaits.
But not for this girl.
She considered herself very lucky.
After all, conveniently well-cut monster carcasses lay in front of her.
She passed a few villages and managed to find some firewood in a still-burning village.
Though unfamiliar with the task, she cut the carcasses into edible sizes.
Sizzle-
With an unpleasant sound, the monster meat tore lengthwise.
She swallowed it down with rough breaths.
Despite severe nausea from the strong smell, she couldnt afford to vomit.
Pushing her blood-soaked hair behind her ears, she continued to eat.
She repeated the cycle of consuming monsters and moving on.
How many days had passed? She couldnt remember, for it had been a long time since she began wandering aimlessly.
But upon seeing a building in the distance, she felt relieved.
Orphan age
Then she lost consciousness due to extreme fatigue.
Looking back, that might have been the moment her luck ran out.
Are you awake? Can you eat?
A kind-looking lady asked with a gentle smile.
In her hands, she carried a meal steaming with warmth.
As soon as the girl saw it, she devoured it hastily, and the lady quietly left without a word.
The bed, though not plush, and the worn-out blanket, brought a sense of happiness to the girl.
But that was all there was to it.
One day, as her body recovered, the kind lady suddenly grabbed her by the hair and dragged her somewhere.
Aah! Uh
Having eaten and rested well, its time to work. But look at your face, scarred like that. I cant even sell you to a brothel.
She was dragged into a dark cave.
The girl, knowing nothing, was assigned a zone.
A gold mine, was it? She had to mine all the gold here before she could return to the orphanage.
It was a mining job that even well-trained soldiers would find exhausting.
Naturally, a child couldnt possibly do it.
When she came back empty-handed, the beatings began.
At first, she was struck by the large hands of adults, but as days passed, the beatings intensified with blunt branches and red-hot iron.
Eventually, the girl worked hard out of fear of pain, but it made little difference.
Escape was not an option.
Strict guards ensured that the workers couldnt flee the gold mine.
With her lips bitten, she continued to work in desperation.
A year had passed since the girl arrived at the orphanage.
From a corner, exhausted screams could be heard.
Huk Aaaah!
Her face was covered with burns, as if scorched.
Where her nose should have been, there was just a mysterious hole, and her skin was as thick with calluses as the hide of monsters.
Her shoulders and back were riddled with grotesque scars.
These marks briefly told the story of the girls past year.
An old woman clicked her tongue.
Tsk tsk. Poor thing. Brand her and sell her to a slave trader. Shes of no use anymore.
The pain that had been pouring over her stopped with that single sentence from the old woman.
Afterward, the girl awaited being branded and handed over to a slave trader.
That day arrived soon.
A slave trader with a hooked nose glanced at the girls face and shook his head.
Goodness To ask me to buy such a thing is too much.
Isnt that why were allowing branding?
Hmm Even with a generous estimate, shes worth about three silver coins.
Thats enough. Take her away.
Then, if youll excuse me.
As the trader spoke, he took out a small bead-like object and infused it with mana.
Characters began to appear on the girls palms and neck, accompanied by a searing pain that felt like tearing flesh.
Keuk Ugh
Her body convulsed, and her voice scraped out as if tearing her vocal cords.
After repeating this process about three times, the trader grabbed the girls hair as if handling an object.
Then I shall take my leave. Contact me if you get anything else.
Sure.
Three silver coins.
That was the price for which she was sold.
From then on, the girl was made to wield a sword.
Her face, too disfigured with scars to sell to a brothel and unable to work.
What choice was left but one?
With a revolting smile, the trader said,
From tomorrow, you will go to the battlefield. Go and swing your sword recklessly.
The brand of servitude made her mouth move on its own.
Ah Understood
Even as she answered, tears of blood welled in her eyes.
The fundamental reason that put her in this situation, the thing she hated the most.
The girl was once again subjected to the horrors of war.
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