To live.
That was a mission and instinct granted to every living being born into this world.
It would surely be harsh. Yet even so, one could not abandon the act of living.
Even when walking toward death, the light that spilled out along the way was brilliant and beautiful.
Right. For a moment, he had simply forgotten.
To be alive. To feel the world through all five senses, to interact with everything around him.
He must not stop that.
Even if he had already achieved what he had once desired, it was the same.
‘I was on a journey to find that. And clearly, I still have a flame left inside me.’
Through the path once opened, he had to visit his mother on Earth one more time.
He still had to finish the work he had yet to complete as a teacher of Seorn.
He had to go to places of this world he had never seen.
He had to meet again the people he had crossed paths with, and speak earnestly about the years that had flowed by.
Yes.
There were still many things he had to do.
So he must live. He must not doubt his own existence.
‘I.’
Ludger drew in a slow, steady breath.
Within his body, which felt as though it had plunged into a freezing deep sea, a flame rose and warmth returned.
‘I exist in this world.’
In the present that had been shaped by his past steps.
And in the “now,” which was about to become his future.
He was still alive, breathing, and existing.
His wildly pounding heart grew calm.
The cold sweat no longer formed. His slightly dilated pupils returned to normal.
“It seems you’ve properly steadied your heart.”
Catherine looked at Ludger with proud satisfaction.
“Thank you. It’s thanks to you.”
“Cut the thanks. If anything, I’m the one who should be grateful. Do you have any idea how much I’ve received from you? Even helping you this much doesn’t make up for it.”
Catherine instead regretted not being able to do more.
“I received far too much from you. During that Holy War, I told you to run because I was worried. But you didn’t leave—after subduing me, you even told me where my parents were.”
Catherine looked behind her—
at the mansion where her family lived,
at the homeland she had been forced to abandon for decades.
“Just being able to come back like this makes me grateful to the world. Beyond that, I’ve ended up owing you an enormous debt of the heart.”
“A debt of the heart, huh.”
“Yes. All things in the world change. Just as the leaves of that tree wilt with time, much else must change as well. Emotions are the same.”
But then Catherine continued:
“The roots and stones deep underground never change. This is the same, Heathcliff. My feelings toward you will never change. Your joy is my joy, and your sorrow becomes my sorrow. So I want you to be happy.”
“Spoken like that, I sound like someone who only chases misfortune.”
Ludger let out a small chuckle.
Catherine replied playfully:
“Weren’t you?”
“Misfortune was something that happened while living, not something I pursued. I, too, am someone who hopes for happiness. Anyone human would.”
Instead, Ludger had simply accepted even his own misfortune—
for without that pain and those wounds, he could not be who he was now.
Just as light creates shadows,
a happiness without misfortune was not genuine happiness.
“And please, forget about the debt. What debt is there between friends?”
“Really? You know I don’t say empty words. If you put it like that, then there’s truly nothing I owe you?”
“Yes. Think whatever you like.”
Ludger walked slowly.
The sensation of the air touching his skin felt more vivid than before.
Even Catherine’s voice complaining behind him—asking why he was walking ahead—simply sounded pleasant.
Between one moment and the next.
Between the continuous wavelengths of pouring sunlight.
Within that space, he continued to live.
* * *
Night arrived.
The pastoral countryside was even more beautiful drenched in sunset, and Ludger found himself captivated by it for a long while.
The setting sun shone fiercely, like a child who had played all day and now threw a tantrum because it did not want to go home.
Within that tantrum, its light spat out colors of orange, yellow, pink, red—
countless hues, including all the blended shades merging between them.
When the blue tide of night pushed through with firm insistence, the sunset slipped beyond the western edge, and the sky was dyed in darkness.
As the largest light vanished, the small lights that had held their breath began to rise one by one—stars.
From afar they all looked similar, but upon closer view they were different.
Just as people seemed the same from a distance yet each was their own being, the stars were the same.
Each star shimmered with its own size and color.
Sitting on the balcony of the guest room prepared for him, he peacefully watched the scene.
“What are you staring at so blankly?”
After dinner, Catherine—who had been knitting inside the room—called out.
She wasn’t alone. There were two other “sisters” beside her, and Remria was one of them.
It seemed the two were unsatisfied that today’s fieldwork on the farm had ended early.
So they remained beside Catherine, helping with knitting, embroidery, or other small tasks.
He wondered why they were doing that in a guest room meant to welcome him, but he decided that people felt more at ease working beside familiar faces than alone.
“The view is good.”
Outside, insects sang in the grass.
Why did they only make noise at night and never during the day?
There was nothing sadder than a creature whose day and night were reversed.
“You’ve traveled everywhere and seen all sorts of things. What’s so special about this place?”
“There are many places more splendid than this. Even the Elf Kingdom, or the northern mountains. But extravagance isn’t always beauty.”
There was beauty in simplicity.
Excessive splendor only confused the eye, ruining the essence of why something felt beautiful.
In that sense, Ludger liked this scenery.
It contained the most fundamental kind of aesthetics.
“That so? I don’t really get it.”
“I think I understand.”
Remria spoke up.
She was embroidering, and her delicate handiwork didn’t look like something she had done only a day or two.
“When I lived with my eyes covered for so long, what I saw was only fragmented glimpses of the future. There was no continuity, and everything was always split apart. Sometimes the order was mixed up as well.”
That was a side effect suffered by priestesses with the power of a Saintess.
Some might envy the ability to see the future, but having unwanted information forcibly enter through one’s eyes was hardly pleasant.
“So when I opened ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ my eyes for the first time, when I could properly look at the world, I was truly happy.”
She loved the scenery of the city.
She loved the calmness of the streets.
She loved the busyness of the people walking around.
What had become a dull everyday sight to some—
could be the most precious sight in the world to someone else.
“I learned to accept even small things with joy.”
“Wait. If you say it like that, you’re making me sound like someone who only reacts to stimulation.”
Catherine sighed deeply. Remria laughed and said:
“No way. We all know that no one lives more gratefully in the present than you, Sister.”
“Even hearing that much is nice.”
Catherine’s knitting stopped.
So did Remria’s embroidery and the hands of the other sister.
The insects’ cries faded.
A silent wind blew from the forest touching the mansion.
Watching the stars, Ludger lowered his gaze.
“Was it always like this?”
“Mm. Lately it’s been rare, but suddenly it’s gotten worse.”
Catherine let out a bitter smile.
When Remria tried to get up, Catherine stopped her.
“Uninvited guests that don’t suit such a peaceful place.”
They were distant, yet Ludger could feel them.
From the forest came human presences wrapped in a disturbing aura.
“They’re anxious. Or maybe they think this is their chance. After all, the Demon King returned only to be executed.”
Catherine’s words brushed Ludger’s ear.
Before he noticed, she was standing beside him, staring into the forest as he was.
“A fine reason for the remnants of the Church to come searching.”
The presences creeping through the forest belonged to what remained of the Lumenis Church.
The Holy Nation had collapsed after the Holy War, but the Church had not vanished completely.
Fragmented and scattered, they clung to survival with stubborn tenacity.
Compared to the era when they dominated the entire continent, they were pitiful.
Yet precisely because they had once ruled the continent, their remnants lingered long.
Their objective was simple:
the resurrection of the Lumenis Church.
Unable to forget its past glory, they longed to return to it.
Thus their top priority was singular—
to create a central rallying figure for revival.
‘The entire Holy Family is dead. That bloodline no longer exists. And the promising ones were wiped out during the Holy War.’
All the Captain-level paladins—
all the Cardinals—
had died in the war.
Choosing a mere bishop as their figurehead lacked symbolic power.
Then who was left?
The Saintess.
The most definite choice was the First Saintess, but no one alive knew she still existed, sealed deep beneath the Holy Nation.
To the world, there was only one Saintess.
Catherine Unsho.
The remaining faction had discovered her whereabouts and sought to use her as the symbol of their revival.
They surely knew Catherine would never accept such a thing.
Judging from her words, something similar had happened several times before.
Yet they still came—meaning they intended to force her regardless of her will.
‘Typical behavior from people who act like that. Nothing surprising.’
They simply wanted a hollow symbol, something to rally behind and regather power.
In other words, they moved purely for their own desires.
“They’re also afraid. As time passes, the power they once held must be fading.”
Catherine spoke with pity.
After Lumenis died, the priests and paladins had been forced to feel their power weaken.
Three years after the Holy War, more than half had returned to ordinary levels.
Paladins at least retained their trained bodies, but priests were different.
“Well, honestly, it’s impressive that some have even managed to maintain their power until now.”
“Divine power is external, but most priests and paladins don’t actually receive power granted from Lumenis.”
Except for the Holy Family and High Priestesses, ordinary priests and holy knights’ divine power was essentially their own.
“What do you mean?”
“Divine power is the strength of faith. They think they’re receiving power from Lumenis in exchange for their devotion, but that’s a huge misconception. Faith originally belongs to oneself.”
The divine power they used came from belief—
not so different from a mage’s mana.
If magic was restructuring mana through logic and principles...
then sacred arts were manifesting the unknown through the mental force of belief.
“So it means their power originally came from their own conviction in their god?”
“Yes. But since they didn’t know that, when the god disappeared, their conviction wavered. That’s why they’re weakening.”
And they didn’t understand even that much.
If they had, they wouldn’t have come to abduct Catherine in a misguided attempt to restore their power.
“Then I suppose some former Church members must still have their strength.”
“Probably. And those ones likely have strong minds, which is exactly why they wouldn’t be involved in something like this. More importantly—what about you?”
Catherine’s power had been externally given.
Unlike the others—who had never realized their power was originally their own—Catherine truly had reason to weaken.
“You don’t need to worry. I’m weaker than before, but still strong.”
“True. That’s why you managed to repel those previous attacks.”
“But tonight, they’re clearly serious. Before, they came halfheartedly—this time is different.”
Indeed.
Even from the forest, the number of presences was considerable.
If they harbored ill intent, they could erase the entire Unsho territory.
“They must think this is their last chance. The Demon King is dead. Right now is the perfect time for the Church to rise again.”
“Yeah. If only someone hadn’t died, things would be nice and calm.”
“My apologies for that.”
Ludger let out a dry laugh.
“Well, it works out. I’ve been feeling awkward with all the hospitality I received.”
It wasn’t only Catherine’s problem. Ludger could not be clear of involvement either.
One way or another, it was related to his bloodline.
Catherine sighed.
“Haa. Fine, fine. I don’t know whether to call this timing terrible or good. I really didn’t want you seeing this mess.”
“Let’s finish quickly and rest.”
“You know, right? We have to handle this quietly. Without Mother and Father noticing.”
“I know.”
Ludger and Catherine leapt from the balcony at the same time.
The man once called the Demon King, and the woman once called the Saintess—
walked slowly into the darkness of the forest.