CHAPTER 52………………………………………………………
“It smells like Lady Gloria.”
“It’s not even coming from her.”
“It’s not coming from us either.”
For some reason, I felt like they were talking about me.
The spirit, which had been fluttering around sniffing the air, suddenly began circling the two of us.
“Here! The smell of Lady Gloria is strong.”
“Does that mean Lady Gloria has come down?”
“No way. That’s impossible. This is where demons live.”
“Lady Gloria is someone who doesn’t descend into the human world.”
“Hmm, I can feel the power, but it still feels different from being her.”
“Right, right. It feels different.”
“Could it be that she sent another spirit instead…?”
“Nah. Lady Gloria abandoned that one, didn’t she?”
“The problem is that we’re here!”
The other spirits also approached us, flying around with a soft hup sound.
“If we stay here, we might be punished too.”
“Let’s go quickly! Staying near that unlucky monster-flower could cause trouble.”
“Eh, let’s go together!”
The spirits circling us disappeared in an instant.
It seemed they had mistaken me for a god, or a spirit sent by one.
“They’re gone.”
“Indeed.”
A child with silver-blue hair, crouching nearby, looked at us and sniffled.
“Lady Gloria… did you really abandon me? It’s not true, right? It’s not like that, is it?”
Even if I told the child that I wasn’t a god, they wouldn’t hear me. So for now, it was as if the god had not responded.
“It seems the god is not merciful, as the saint said.”
I wasn’t sure. What is my god’s nature?
Merciful, or not merciful.
I had never felt it was merciful, but now, being here with Cardin, my thoughts had shifted slightly.
“Does the god only speak to the saint?”
“…Lady Gloria never receives a response.”
“Have you never heard the god’s voice?”
It would be a disaster if it were revealed that the saint hadn’t received a message from the god.
Yet, perhaps because she had already assimilated into this place, or maybe because she wanted to confide in someone, she didn’t particularly deny it.
“Even at the moments when it was truly needed, there was no response.”
It was as if she were admitting she had been lying until now.
He spoke casually, as if it didn’t matter.
“The god is not kind-hearted.”
“You won’t ask further?”
“It feels like a wound.”
The conversation followed a subtly familiar flow. Even though my chest felt heavy, I couldn’t help but smile faintly.
It must be the feelings carried over from my past life, I thought.
Even if I had returned without memories, I was certain I would have loved Cardin again.
In my past life, and in this life, I could only love him.
Because he was someone I couldn’t help but love.
I pulled myself away from my wandering thoughts, stirred by his sorrowful voice.
Why had these memories been shown to me?
The flower must have lived through a long time, enduring the punishment that Gloria had placed on it.
Even after losing its spirit’s power, it had not perished—a lonely existence unable to die, merely drifting through time.
Until a man named Dave appeared, its petals could not bloom again.
I hadn’t been able to purify this flower because the god had no intention of annihilating it.
If that was the god’s will, what could I do?
“Please, let me go back to Lady Gloria’s side again.”
The child’s face, trembling in loneliness, was already soaked with tears.
“I’ve heard that each spirit has different powers, but I’m not sure about this flower.”
“Honestly, I don’t know either.”
All that was recorded in history books about the power of spirits were earth, wind, water, and fire.
“For plants, there isn’t much that comes to mind.”
I felt the same. What could grass and trees provide?
“Ah.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The oral tradition in the village said it could cure all illnesses, didn’t it?”
Cardin tilted his head, realizing what I was thinking, and shifted his gaze to the child.
“Then it can be considered a medicinal herb.”
“Yes, but there’s one problem.”
“Emotion?”
“Yes.”
The spirits said that the child had shown emotion. That was a power different from ordinary medicinal herbs.
Perhaps it was possible because it had been created by the god’s power.
The flower, taking the form of a child, gradually grew into a young lady and then a woman. It was another flow of time, separate from ours.
“Saint, what do you wish to happen to this flower?”
“Pardon?”
“It seems the god does not intend to destroy this flower. What do you think should be done?”
As a saint, I should follow the god’s will.
But after enduring a punishment like a curse for countless ages…
Though not comparable to the flower, I had lived without dying, harboring immense resentment toward the god.
“I want to bring it to an end.”
I wanted to guide it to death.
Of course, it was unforgivable if the flower had harmed someone.
“If that is impossible, then purification.”
Perhaps it was because I had assimilated into this place, or perhaps it was a reflection of myself.
“That flower will probably wait for someone named Dave.”
In fact, that was quite likely.
“…That could be a problem.”
The space we were in distorted once again. A rope-like path of shimmering light unfolded before us.
It was different from before, but it seemed to be the path we needed to take.
“Saint.”
“Yes?”
Looking up at him, Cardin offered his arm to me again.
“Feels like I’m being escorted.”
“Your legs might hurt.”
“Thank you.”
We walked again along a path that was neither a feast nor reality.
As we walked, we entered a space with a different texture than before.
A small village appeared, with houses scattered sparsely.
Clang!
I could immediately tell which house the sound came from.
From a house with cracked and broken windows came a shouting voice.
Soon, Dave appeared.
He had grown into an adult, just like before, but his face and body were battered and bruised.
I had never seen his injuries after he became an adult.
The limping man carried a watering can and an empty flowerpot, walking toward us.
It seemed he was going to the flower.
“There’s something strange about this.”
“Indeed. The flower won’t be able to see this side.”
Though this place was still within the flower’s memory, how could it show events outside the invisible forest?
At that moment, the watering can fell with a clatter.
Half-filled, the water soaked the dirt floor. The man stumbled, holding the flowerpot, and collapsed on the spot.
Before we could know whether he was alive or dead, our space changed again.
Far from the village, a woman wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat called to Dave with a bright smile.
“Dave!”
Dave walked toward the woman calling him.
He carried a large suitcase, but his face kept looking back, full of lingering attachment.
When Dave slowed his steps, the woman called him again.
“Dave, you’re not planning to bring the flower again, are you?”
“…I promised.”
“I don’t like flowers. Am I the only one who wants to leave this place quickly?”
“That’s not it. I just…”
The woman frowned and walked up to Dave.
“I don’t want you worrying about that flower either. So hurry up and greet the village.”
She grabbed Dave’s hand and swung it back and forth.
“You’ll never come back here.”
“Sorry. I don’t think I can go.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I feel like I have to go. She’ll be waiting.”
At Dave’s words, I realized where we were.
