YRD 78

CHAPTER 78…………………………………..

His lips, which had been tightly pressed together, slowly parted.

“The tragedy of this world can only be ended by my child who has experienced tragedy.”

At the temple master’s words, I furrowed my brows sharply.

My child who has experienced tragedy.

A child of God.

I understood immediately who he meant.

Since I said nothing, he looked at the half-burned candle and continued speaking.

“That was the first and last content of the prophecy I have ever seen. With my limited insight, I believe the child you indicated, Lady Gloria, might be the saintess.”

Though his words sounded tentative, his voice carried certainty.

He couldn’t possibly know that I had experienced tragedy.

“Is it because I am the current saintess that you think so?”

“That prophecy came down the day before the saintess was formally enthroned.”

“…….”

He looked up at the black night sky and spoke as if recalling a memory.

“I heard that the prophecies always came down late at night like this. But the one I saw was the exception.”

“…….”

It wasn’t that he knew of my personal tragedy and associated it with me.

It was the day before the enthronement ceremony.

It was when I had returned to the past.

“I didn’t know what the tragedy of the world meant, but I thought perhaps the current saintess would be the one to save it.”

A bitter laugh escaped me unconsciously.

God had seen my tragedy. Perhaps for that reason.

The repeated tragedies I had endured, God had watched over them without responding.

That’s how I interpreted God’s intention.

The God who had ignored my tragedies was now giving me power, asking me to stop the world’s tragedy.

The same God who had never helped me even once when I had lost the people I loved.

I felt betrayed.

The thought that even God was using me, that He had created my tragedies for the sake of today.

Cardin, sacrificed because of God and Melissa.

It was miserable. The only thing I had given to the people I loved was death.

I resented God.

Unable to contain my feelings, I traced a crescent moon on my palm.

“Saintess, do you know the tragedy of the world?”

“……I don’t know.”

A corner of my mouth twitched upward without me realizing it. In my previous life, it hadn’t been the world’s tragedy—it had ended as my tragedy alone.

Unable to maintain my expression, I changed the topic.

“Temple Master.”

“Yes, Saintess.”

“Is there anyone else who knows of that prophecy?”

From the conversation in the scripture vault, I had guessed that Paviban didn’t know, but I asked to confirm.

As expected, Temple Master Verche shook his head.

“No one does.”

He must have separated me from Melissa’s temple people to speak about this.

Whether it was because he sensed something unusual about Melissa’s temple and even Paviban’s people were cautious—or whether he simply wanted to tell only me because he thought I was the savior—I didn’t care to ask.

“I won’t reveal it.”

A small laugh escaped me.

Without looking at him, I nodded. I didn’t want to read anyone’s thoughts right now.

Perhaps thinking I was lost in thought, he spoke cautiously.

“I will leave the room.”

“Thank you.”

At the edge of my vision, he bowed briefly and withdrew.

Footsteps echoed from behind. I waited until they faded away.

Finally, I was alone.

More wax had dripped than remained on the candle.

I stared blankly at the fragile flame.

A saint who has experienced tragedy.

God, calling me His child, yet speaking so harshly.

“Do you have nothing more to say to me?”

It was then.

God responded to me.

Words slowly appeared on the stone, illuminated by the small candle.

My heart raced.

It was the first time God had responded to me.

I waited for the words to be completed. In my heart, I prayed.

I wanted to hear assurance that He was not using me.

“Your tragedy will only end when the tragedy of this world is stopped.”

Though I had never seen the writing before, I finally understood what Temple Master Verche had meant.

I could read it even at first glance.

But it wasn’t a prophecy that would be visible through God’s mercy.

For my tragedy not to repeat, I had to stop the world’s tragedy.

It felt like a threat.

Calling me His child and using my past tragedy as leverage to coerce me.

And He spoke as if it were only natural.

Even though it was His first time responding to me.

In a voice tinged with a bitter laugh, I spoke the prophecy aloud from the stone.

“Your tragedy will only end when the tragedy of this world is stopped.”

My trembling lips quivered with the faint strength I had left. Tears instantly blurred my vision.

“Is that all? Is this the end of what you want to say to me?”

As if replacing the tears I couldn’t let fall, raindrops began to fall.

Plop. Plop.

The fragile candle was extinguished by the rain, sending thin smoke into the air.

Simultaneously, the letters carved into the stone disappeared.

Raindrops fell on my cheeks like tears, tracing down to my chin.

I recited the prophecy over and over again.

Your tragedy will only end when the tragedy of this world is stopped.

“If I fail to stop it, will You turn back time and give me the same tragedy again? Will You use me again to kill the people I love?”

Perhaps the night had made me overly sensitive. The fact that God had chosen me didn’t sound like good news.

“Don’t end it with just these words……”

I pressed my hand onto the coarse stone, unwilling to accept the vanished prophecy as it was.

“You responded to me for the first time.”

When the cold image of Cardin lying dead in the snowy field flashed in my mind, I couldn’t breathe.

“Even if You hadn’t said these words, I would have tried to stop Melissa. But why… why did You involve innocent Cardin… why!”

The tears that had been swelling finally overflowed.

Though I had longed for a response, facing the truth only deepened my resentment.

The resolve I had forcefully carried until now crumbled into emptiness.

“If You are going to punish me, punish only me. Only me. I became a saint and yet was used by Melissa, failing in my role. Just kill me. Only me. Don’t involve Cardin in the punishment You bring upon me. Please, please leave him alone.”

The anger I had thrown at God turned into a plea.

Yet my wretched God remained silent.

As if knowing I could not abandon Him no matter what.

Though I had resented Him countless times, I had never truly hated Him—was that why He tried to use me?

Was God’s message a warning, or a threat?

Someday, Herald’s words came to mind: my return through time was called a power, but who else knew of it?

At the time, it was uncertain, but perhaps my return would bring punishment. Still, I hoped not.

Now, I knew clearly.

I was being punished.

Like God’s flower, which withered and dried but could not die.

Not because Melissa cleverly used the saintesses, but because I was used.

Because, as God’s daughter, I failed to fulfill my saintly role properly.

If that weren’t the case, God would have no reason for this.

If God wanted to punish me for that reason, He would strip my holy power and throw me into the monster forest. So why involve Cardin, who had no fault or connection?

I was angry.

Yet I carefully chose my words.

Afraid that speaking out might cause God to harm Cardin under the flimsy pretense of His reasons.

“Did You really think of me as Your daughter?”

My child.

I had never doubted that I was Your daughter.

So no matter how much I hated You, there were moments when I still sought comfort in You.

The title Saintess felt disgusting.

Could I live as Your daughter, the one You planned, ignored, or abandoned repeatedly, losing the people I loved in my previous life?

The more ironic thing is that even after realizing I was being used, I couldn’t give up now.

I must somehow stop the tragedy, just as the God had said.

Only then could I protect Cardin, my past connections.