Chapter 8.2 - .

The Beginning of a Nightmare

(Another Person’s Perspective)

The beginning of the nightmare came from a report made by a farmer.

Pale-faced, he came running as if tumbling over himself, clinging desperately to a patrolling soldier.

“W-When I woke up this morning, there was something I’ve never seen before in my field!”

“Haha, isn’t that just yesterday’s booze still hanging over you? Maybe you dreamed it while drunk?”

“No, it’s real! I’m telling you the truth! It’s bigger than a wild boar, and it’s got claws as well as tusks! Its eyes were bloodshot, it was terrifying!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go take a look with you, so calm down.”

The patrolling soldier, seeing just how serious the farmer was, decided to go with him. He told one of his comrades that he had an errand and asked him to pass on a message. He did not know that this would become a fork in fate.

As they neared the field, the farmer pointed with trembling hands. The moment the soldier laid eyes on the creature rampaging through the crops at the center of the field, his entire body seized with fear.

What is that thing? It’s definitely not a wild boar. First of all, the size is completely different. Not just a little bigger, but more than ten times larger. Thick, razor-sharp tusks that taper to deadly points, and claws so massive it was obvious you would be crushed instantly if stepped on. A huge nose snorted violently as it rooted through the crops, writhing in an eerie way. Then, as if it had caught their scent, its head swung sharply toward the two of them.

“—!”

The soldier instinctively drew his sword and took a stance. Only now did he fully understand what the farmer had meant by “terrifying.” Its eyes were red, and the whites of its eyes were black. Calling it a living creature felt wrong, it radiated far too much malevolence. The ominous thing fixed its target and bared its tusks at the soldier, whose legs were already giving way.

“Gyaah!”

The last thing the soldier remembered was that the inside of its mouth was red like blood. Then his consciousness vanished.

This is bad. This is really bad!

Without turning back to look at the soldier who screamed his death cry, the farmer ran. He had to flee somewhere, anywhere with more people. Head lowered, he ran with all his might, until his body slammed into something solid and unyielding. He was sent flying through the air and slammed down hard. As he groaned on the ground, something warm and slick crawled across his face.

A tongue.

Realizing this, the farmer’s eyes flew open. Another creature identical to the first stood over him. No, not just one. Beyond it, and beyond that, more and more grotesque creatures emerged from deep within the forest, one after another.

“Remember this well. If you ever see a magic beast, never approach it.”

…Magic beasts?

His great-grandfather had told him that, mumbling through a toothless mouth. Creatures that looked like wild boars, yet were far more dangerous, imbued with a demonic nature. His great-grandfather had learned it from his own great-grandfather. Back then, the farmer had dismissed it as nothing more than an absurd old tale. But now, what had his great-grandfather said would happen if you approached one carelessly?

“If you get too close, even by mistake, you’ll be eaten by a magic beast.”

A lesson hidden within a folktale. To remember it only now, at this moment. His legs gave out, and the man scrambled backward on all fours. But as he did, something blocked his retreat once more. A horrifying roar shook the ground.

Ah. I’m surrounded.

The farmer’s consciousness faded there as well.

From that point on, events unfolded like a raging torrent.

When word spread that the patrolling soldier had not returned, the unit commander hurried to the scene with his subordinates. There, they found dozens of monsters, at least as many as they could count, brazenly attacking livestock. The creatures must have exhausted the forest of prey and emerged in search of food.

Deep within that forest lay an eerie bottomless swamp that even nearby residents avoided. Though it looked like nothing more than a swamp, the unit commander alone had been told during a handover briefing that it was what other nations called a “magic power pool.” He had heard that magic beasts and monsters were born from it, but he had never truly believed it.

After all, he had never once seen such a thing happen.

Even if it was called a magic power pool, he had thought it was nothing more than a filthy swamp. And yet now, the monsters crawling out were clearly emerging from the direction of that swamp. Given his position, he should have gone to confirm it himself, but he lacked the courage. While he hesitated, the murky eyes of the magic beasts fixed upon him. A dreadful roar echoed as they called their kin.

There was no further word from the unit commander who went to investigate. Only then did a report finally reach the capital, and the nation dispatched its army to the region containing the magic power pool. By the time they arrived, the area had already been trampled into ruin by an overwhelming number of magic beasts. Their numbers were too great, and subjugation progressed at a painfully slow pace. Before long, magic beasts and monsters began appearing even in urban areas, and at last, the situation became known to the populace.

“So those are magic beasts… They really exist!”

Because most people had never seen one in their entire lives, they had no idea how to respond. All they could do was panic and flee. As they ran, people gravitated toward the temple, where treatment and food distribution were being provided, and only then did they remember.

There should have been a Saint of Warding at the temple.

“What kind of Saint of Warding is this? She hasn’t done anything!”

“There’s a limit to how useless someone can be. Make her fix this right now!”

After calling her incompetent and useless for so long, now they accused her of being incompetent and useless. How selfish. If Angelina had been there, she surely would have muttered as much. But people, robbed of calm by the appearance of magic beasts, did not notice their own contradictions.

Eventually, protests broke out within the temple grounds against the Saint of Warding and the temple’s negligence, and some people turned into a mob. They began smashing the temple doors, trying to drag the Saint of Warding outside.

“Please stop! Violence is not the answer!”

The one who appeared was a girl with golden hair and jade-green eyes, the Saint of Healing and Restoration, Helena. Tears welled in her eyes as she begged them. Since nearly everyone there had been helped by her at least once, they could not bring themselves to push further. Once things calmed slightly, Helena smiled faintly to herself.

Injuries and illness are painful for anyone. That’s why healing and restoration are the strongest powers of all.

Smiling as she always did, she extended her hands to the people.

“Now then, let us begin treatment. Is there anyone who has been injured?”

Me. Me. Many people formed a line in front of Helena. Her face grew pale.

…There are far more than usual. And those wounds, I’ve never seen that color before.

Uneasy, she placed her hand over the wound of the boy at the front of the line.

“…That can’t be right. Why…?”

“Saint Helena?”

The boy’s mother tilted her head anxiously, having caught her mutter. Helena bit her lip, maintaining a calm façade.

…My healing magic isn’t working.

Normally, the injury would heal easily the moment she placed her hand there. But now, it was as if water were repelled by oil, the wound rejecting the magic entirely. Why was this happening?

“Saint Helena, what’s wrong?”

“Well…”

A familiar priest approached, and she whispered an explanation. His face also drained of color. Saying he would search for a method in the texts, he returned to the temple. People grew uneasy as Saint Helena, normally so proactive, stopped healing.

“W-What’s happening, Saint Helena?”

“She seems to be feeling unwell.”

Smiling to cover it up, Helena gathered people into a temporary tent. The number of those needing treatment continued to rise, yet healing barely progressed. Eventually, Helena noticed something.

There were wounds she could heal, and wounds she could not.

Injuries from falls, sprains, or cuts from wood or grass could be healed. But the wounds with that reddish-purple hue could not. Worse still, those patients grew steadily weaker over time. Dissatisfaction among the people was reaching its peak when—

“Saint Helena, we’ve found a treatment method!”

The priest who rushed in was clutching a barrel filled with water and a clear vial. He poured water over the boy’s wound, washing it clean. Then he spoke gently to the boy.

“It’ll sting, but bear with it, alright?”

The boy nodded, pale-faced. When holy water was sprinkled onto the wound, it sizzled audibly. Though tears welled from the pain, he endured it. The priest patted his head.

“Well done. Now, Saint Helena, please heal him.”

“Yes!”

This time, the wound healed in an instant, as though the earlier resistance had been a lie. Cheers erupted around them.

“What does this mean?”

“Wounds inflicted by magic beasts and monsters are contaminated by magical residue, so they can’t be healed through normal procedures. Just like oil repels water, healing magic won’t take hold on the human body. That’s why the wound must first be washed with water to remove the toxin, then purified with holy water. Once that’s done, it becomes just like a normal injury and healing magic can be used.”

Helena’s eyes widened. She had never heard anything like this before. She had never even seen a magic beast wound until now.

“That knowledge… where did it come from?”

The priest lowered his voice.

“From the Book of Wisdom left behind by grandmother. It describes not only treatment methods, but also how to create holy water and even procedures for imbuing weapons with effects for combating magic.”

“…I see. The former Saint of Warding.”

“Angelina likely knew all of this as well. Truly, a Saint who is utterly useless when it matters most.”

Holy water was already being produced by the priests en masse, and they were testing whether the Saint could perform weapon imbuement.
Helena twisted her lips.

Then we should just make use of the Saint of Warding’s knowledge instead of that useless woman.

Since the founding of the nation, the title of Saint of Warding had been passed down without interruption. Though the temple kept it hidden, according to its doctrines, the Saint of Warding was the highest-ranking and most venerable of all Saints. That such an incompetent, useless woman held the position of Chief Saint was infuriating.

Concealing her true intentions, Helena smiled gently as always.

“Everyone, you heard that just now, didn’t you? Please wash your wounds, then have the priests sprinkle holy water on them. After that, line up in front of me once more. With the Saint of Warding absent, I will heal you in her stead.”

People cried out in admiration.

“As expected, you’re strong and kind! Nothing like that useless woman!”

“Saint Helena is truly an angel! Thank you, O God!”

“Saint Helena is our true Saint of Warding!”

If you don’t want it, then I’ll gladly take the title of Chief Saint for myself.
You should be grateful.