#029

Darkness had fallen deeply. A silence, devoid even of the sounds of wild animals, enveloped the entire village. The high stone walls, built to keep out beasts, were in disarray as if something had destroyed them, and bloodstains covered every small house.

A rotten smell wafted from the ground. The ruined village was silent, without a single light.

Arne, peering outside, returned to the shrine without lowering the sickle she held, her body hunched. Even the solid stone walls and houses, which had been brought down by the overwhelming force, seemed unable to approach the small shrine. They appeared to fear the goddess.

Cold sweat trickled down her back. The muscles of her entire body, tensed to the extreme, were stiff.

Arne first confirmed that the surroundings were quiet. She had been trapped inside for six days already. The shrine’s meager food supplies ran out on the third day. Feeding ten children diligently, they were depleted in an instant.

For two days now, everyone had only drunk water. Arne had not eaten anything for nearly three days.

I really need to go out and find food today, now that crying children are starting to appear from hunger. Having made up his mind, Arne returned to the temple.

The small hut, which was almost too humble to be called a temple, contained only a small statue symbolizing the goddess and sacred texts. The village had fewer than thirty people, and the temple, just large enough to barely accommodate that number, was in fact closer to a hospital than a place of worship.

All priests, except for the High Priest, received medical training. Among them, priests with almost no divine power, like Arne, were practically called doctors.

“Sir Arne, will the Marquess truly save us?”

As he opened the door and entered, all the children’s gazes fixed on him. Arne set down his scythe and offered a good-natured smile.

With a large build, close to 6ft 3 inches, and short-cropped brown hair, he had an appearance that could be intimidating. Though he smiled to reassure them, the youngest child burst into tears. Arne hastily wiped away his smile and rushed to the child.

“The priest made Inah cry again!”

“Shh, be quiet. If you make noise, they will come,” Marie, the oldest girl among them, warned. Arne, prepared for such moments, offered the crying Inah some preserved fruit he had hidden.

The child, sniffling, accepted the dried apricot with her small hand. The other children, who were starving, looked at Inah with envy. A rumbling sound echoed from somewhere.

“The Marquess will surely save us. Everyone, quietly take good care of Inah, and I will bring back food.”

Arne said, careful not to smile.

“But what if someone comes while you’re gone, Sir Arne?”

“They won’t come if there’s no sound or light, so don’t worry. Just stay quiet like you are now. The Goddess will protect you.”

“But my mom and dad are dead. Why didn’t the Goddess protect other people?”

Marie, the most intelligent girl in the village, asked. Arne’s gaze settled on the girl’s red hair.

In an instant, the guilt he had suppressed in his heart overflowed. A sixteen-year-old boy with the same red hair as Marie flashed before his eyes.

“Priest.”

The moment he saw the shy face quietly calling him, Arne’s hand trembled. The scythe fell to the floor with a thud. The children looked at him in terror.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Arne apologized repeatedly. His hands shook uncontrollably. Unable to bear the overwhelming guilt, he picked up the scythe and stood up.

Seeing the small hands trying to hold him back, begging him not to go, felt like madness. But they couldn’t just starve to death. If they did, his sin would grow immeasurably. Not even Goddess Aksha, nor the Dark Island of Akesis, the god she had vanquished, would have a place for him.

“I will definitely return. Marie, please look after the children.”

“You must come back alive,” Marie said, looking at him with eyes full of venom. Arne nodded, wiping his black priestly robe, slick with sweat.

Taking a deep breath, he left the temple. The air outside was cool and chilling, unbefitting of a season welcoming spring.

It had already been over ten days since the anomaly began. Had such a thing not yet occurred at the Exion main castle? No knights had appeared to save them.

The disaster had begun suddenly one day. Strange things started happening the day after travelers in black cloaks had stayed at the village’s only inn and departed.

Someone claimed to have seen Vanya, who had died the previous year. The village chief, Gunter, dismissed it as a joke, but that night, everyone saw Vanya. Vanya, who had died of consumption after working in the salt mine, had returned.

He looked exactly as he had at the time of his death. Gaunt with sunken cheeks, spitting blood.

He was covered in dirt, as if he had come from the stone tomb where he was buried. As everyone recoiled in horror, Vanya’s elderly mother tearfully rushed towards him.

The nightmare began after that.

Vanya bit his mother’s neck. Like a possessed person, he sank his rotten, yellowed teeth into her flesh, devouring it. As blood spurted like a fountain, everyone screamed.

Gunter, regaining his composure first, grabbed a shovel and struck Vanya’s head. But Vanya’s mother was already dead.

Vanya continued to move even after his head was crushed. His headless body thrashed, struggling to rise.

Arne was summoned to that bizarre scene. After retching once at the cruel sight he had never witnessed before, he recited prayers with trembling hands and burned the body. Only then did Vanya finally stop moving.

But this was not the end. More appeared in the morning. They were all villagers for whom funerals had been held.

Rubin, whose head was crushed by falling stones; Jonah, who died of consumption; countless corpses returned from their graves. In this village, Alak, where all the residents worked in the salt mine, not a single body was intact.

The dead kept flooding into the village. From the stone tombs. Or from the abandoned mountain paths. Missing youths, whose deaths were unknown, also returned as undead.

It must be divine punishment.

Arne thought so. He feared that the boy he had sinned against might be among the many corpses. Though the boy had died in a different mine far from here, it felt as if he would appear among them at any moment.

‘Help me, Arne. Let me out.’

The nightmare I’ve been having incessantly since I ignored the boy who pleaded with his eyes and left the mine must have become reality. I, who am a priest yet so cowardly, abandoned the boy who needed help there… I… I…

Fear gripped his ankles. Arne, holding his scythe, realized the house he had arrived at was none other than Marie’s. Marie’s house, where she once lived with her brother, mother, and father. The house where the boy, not yet old enough to be taken to the mine, had been.

Arne stumbled backward. He couldn’t take food from this house, of all places.

Guilt, black and overwhelming, filled his heart, causing him to fall. The scythe dropped to the floor. At the same time, something lunged out from the darkness. It was a corpse.

Making a choking sound, the thing in the darkness rushed towards Arne. Their speed, much faster at night than during the day, was incredible.

Seeing the black doll lunging at him, Arne squeezed his eyes shut. His body was frozen. A swift resignation washed over him. This was a death befitting a sinner like himself. It would be better for everyone if he died now, rather than suffer this guilt his entire life.

But… what about the children if I die here?

Marie’s brown eyes, which had implored him to return alive, flickered in his mind. The ten children, trapped and pitiful. Thinking of them, who might starve to death while waiting for him endlessly, his heart…

…Huh?

Arne opened his eyes slightly. He felt no pain, which he had braced himself for. Instead, he witnessed an unbelievable scene. While many things had been unbelievable lately, this was truly strange.

The corpse that had lunged at Arne was floating in the air, thrashing wildly. As he stared blankly with wide eyes, a voice spoke beside him.

“What are you doing, sitting there like an idiot?”

Arne slowly turned his head. He saw purple eyes glowing in the darkness.

A man walked slowly towards him. The man, holding a greatsword dripping with blood, exuded a killing aura. He was of a similar imposing height, with black leather straps wrapped around his wrists and ankles, and sharp features on his pale face. He was a rare beauty.

“Judging by your attire, you seem to be a Common Priest. Is it appropriate to call a child of the Goddess an idiot, Sir Cullen?”

This time, someone else emerged, clad in a black robe. Arne’s eyes widened. He slowly regained his senses.

The emblem on that robe was something no priest could fail to recognize. No, it was a symbol everyone would know. Wasn’t it the attire worn only by High Priests chosen to reside in the Aksha Temple?

“Shut up, Lasano. They might come. Honestly, your talent for not shutting up is greater than your divine power, isn’t it?”

The exceptionally handsome man spoke coldly to the High Priest. Arne was bewildered. Who was this person who could speak to the High Priest like that?

“I apologize, but it is thanks to me that they haven’t devoured Sir Cullen until now. Oh, Aksha, your child is being treated so poorly!”

Whether Arne was surprised or not, the two exchanged sharp words. Then, someone else appeared.

This time, he held his breath. A person of unparalleled beauty stood before him, someone he had never seen in his life. She was like a goddess. Or, her gender could not be determined. But she was impossibly beautiful.

“Both of you, be quiet.”

The being in the spotless white attire waved a hand after saying this. The thrashing corpse then flew somewhere. It hit the wall with a thud. The handsome man looked at the goddess-like figure in white for a moment, then rubbed his forehead and said,

“Why did you send it there? I have to deal with it anyway.”

“I did that so you wouldn’t kill that innocent person. Watching you, you are quite merciless.”

“If you had used your power sooner, I could have killed fewer.”

“I told you. I cannot use my power carelessly. You should not call me narrow-minded from now on. It seems you are the one who fits that description.”

The owner of the white attire said this and approached Arne. Even in the darkness, his blue eyes, which seemed to sparkle as if illuminated, were visible.

Despite his delicate and slender features, the man exuded an oppressive aura. As he drew closer, the air grew heavy. Arne felt a slight tightness in his chest.

“You, you can explain what happened, can’t you?”

With those words, Arne was lifted into the air.