Chapter 51
By the time I stopped by the Terina Church cemetery, holding a bouquet I had bought from a nearby flower shop, it was early evening, and the sun had almost set.
“It’s been a long time since I came here,” I murmured.
Following the priest’s guidance, I arrived at the apostle’s grave. The white tombstone had the chrysanthemums I had left last time, now completely dried up.
“I’m sorry! It’s my fault. I should have cleaned it earlier,” said the priest who came with me, flustered. He held the wilted flowers and bowed before leaving.
It seemed the grave hadn’t been cared for in a while. Dust covered the once bright white stone. I spent some time wiping it with the handkerchief I had, letting out a bitter smile.
“I need to come more often, apostle,” I whispered.
Kneeling, I closed my eyes and prayed for the apostle’s peace, asking Terina God to watch over them. In this fantasy world, gods truly existed, and I hoped the apostle was happy beside them.
Just then, I heard rustling and a fast movement approaching.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
Feeling warm body behind me, I quickly turned around.
It was a small boy, about five years old, clinging to my back.
Buried deep against me, I couldn’t see his face clearly.
“Who… are you?” I asked.
The little boy lifted his head. He had shining white hair and ruby-red eyes, just like mine. When our eyes met, tears welled up in his clear eyes.
“Where did you come from?”
Lloyd, watching from the side, asked the crying child, but the boy simply buried his face into my chest, sobbing silently.
“Do you know him?” Lloyd asked.
“No, I’ve never seen him before,” I replied.
He was clearly a stranger, yet he looked so much like Ibeliana that I wondered if he could be part of her hidden family.
“What’s your name, little one?” I asked.
The boy shook his head, still crying. Lloyd asked again, “Can he not speak?”
The boy nodded slightly and hugged me even tighter.
“Where’s your mother? I’ll take you to her,” Lloyd said.
But the boy only shook his head and clung to me.
At that moment, shouting could be heard in the distance.
“Lord Ain! Where are you?”
“Lord Ain!”
“Ah, aren’t you taking care of this kid properly? What a mess!”
“Lord Ain! Ugh… this is so annoying!”
The voices were full of swearing.
The boy buried his face deeper into me as the shouting grew louder. Soon, the priests of Terina Church appeared before us.
“There they are!”
Seeing the boy, the priests shouted and ran toward us. The sound of their hurried steps made the boy tremble and cling tighter.
“Lord Ain, why are you here?”
The priests approached, and I quickly spoke.
“Wait! The boy’s scared!”
“What? Are you his guardian? What does it matter?” one priest snapped, annoyed.
“Come here, now!” he shouted, and roughly dragged the boy from my arms.
“Stop! Don’t be so harsh!” I cried.
The boy, shaken by the adult’s strength, fell to the ground, shivering.
“Tonight, you’ll sleep alone. No dinner,” another priest barked.
Then—Lloyd drew his sword and pressed it against the priest’s neck.
“Take your hands off that child.”
The priests froze, shocked by the sharp blade.
“What… what are you doing, devotee?”
Lloyd’s face was calm as he pressed the sword closer. Blood trickled slightly, and the priests screamed, finally letting go of the boy. He curled up and trembled in my arms.
“It’s okay. Don’t cry,” I whispered, patting him, but he still shook.
Seeing the boy trembling, Lloyd growled, “Back off, before I kill you.”
The priests, terrified by Lloyd’s force, scattered.
“Those cursed Terina people,” Lloyd muttered, looking at the boy. He was so small and light, probably hungry too.
Night fell, and the cold wind made us shiver.
“Let’s take him home first,” Lloyd said, holding the boy close. Patting his back, the child gradually calmed.
“He needs food. His arms are so thin,” Lloyd noted, frowning as he checked him.
“Priests are all crazy,” he muttered.
Inside the warm carriage, the boy’s eyes widened in surprise.
“It’s safe here,” Lloyd said softly, patting him. Soon, the boy fell asleep in his arms.
The carriage quickly headed to the Helderios Duke family estate. The boy’s sudden appearance caused a small commotion at the mansion. The footman who opened the door shouted in surprise:
“Gah!”
The butler inside, seeing the boy in Lloyd’s arms, shouted, “Could this be… the young duke’s child?”
The noise was so loud that the Duke and Duchess rushed out in shock.
“Lloyd’s child? Grandchild, you mean!”
All this happened because the boy looked just like Ibeliana, and Lloyd had brought him inside.
I was standing in a dream. The space around me was all white.
The ground and sky were indistinguishable, and the horizon was gone.
I quietly stood and looked at a man who looked exactly like the apostle—white hair down to his waist, red eyes, perfect features. I smiled at the familiar face.
The man was a sculptor.
One day, he found a rock. It was the most beautiful rock he had ever seen, milky and shining. He immediately fell in love with it.
He thought he could create a masterpiece from it.
Day by day, for years, he carefully carved the rock into a beautiful woman. Every motion was precise and full of care.
Finally, after finishing, the sculptor stepped back and cried at the beauty of his work. He kissed the statue’s lips.
A miracle happened. The statue came to life, moving and blinking with sparkling red eyes. The sculptor fell in love.
The woman loved the sculptor too, as if it was meant to be.
They shared passionate love. He gave her a name and power, granting all she wished for. His love was so intense that others grew jealous.
But the sculptor didn’t care about anyone else. He only saw her.
Eventually, she asked him to care for others too, but he refused lightly, enjoying her pleading.
Over time, the woman began to resent his obsessive love. She felt trapped, forced to love only him, isolated from others.
One day, she met a human—a tiny, fragile creature, leftover from the sculptor’s work. Seeing the tiny human, she felt pity.
