When had it begun, I wonder.
If I looked back, it was from that day.
The day when all of Hiberunia was in an uproar.
The day when Lipyue, who had not let Her voice be heard for a very long time, manifested in person.
The day when holy light overflowed the sanctuary, and all the priests wept tears of emotion through the night.
The day Hio Pavlenko was exalted as a new Apostle.
After that day, Lipyue's presence began to fade.
The touch and gaze she had always felt gradually began to disappear.
At first, it was doubt.
Doubt that such a thing could not possibly be true.
That a god's existence could fade.
Was it not more plausible that she herself had simply felt wrongly?
But it was after quite a long time had passed that such doubt became certainty.
By then, she could reveal the truth to no one.
Because she could not even begin to fathom how enormous the implications of that fact were.
That a god no longer existed, even as the continent was steeped in darkness and heroes were dying.
Could it be that She had abandoned humanity, abandoned this continent?
The truth that she alone knew, the terrible reality, left her breathless.
What was she to do?
What must she do for everyone to survive with hope?
No matter how much she thought, no answer came.
She had no choice but to burn her divine power even more fervently, as she had always done.
But misfortune compounded upon misfortune.
As the saying goes, calamities never come alone—a situation caught between a tiger ahead and a wolf behind.
Her body, unable to withstand the immense divine power, began to crumble.
Every day, she had to watch her flesh break apart and regenerate.
She had to endure all of it alone.
She did not wish to spread her own misfortune across the entire continent to find comfort.
How difficult it had been.
And yet, she could not show it in the slightest.
Because she was the Saint.
Because she was not a street girl worrying about her next meal, but the Saint of Hiberunia.
Because she was the one whom the entire continent watched with hope in their hearts.
Though she watched her body break apart every day, she must not be anxious.
Even while knowing that God had already abandoned humanity, she had to offer prayers alongside the priests.
Even knowing it was meaningless, she poured earnestness into those prayers.
Every day, she prayed with all her heart.
Please, save me.
I don't want to die.
How terrifying each and every day had been.
How frightening the nights just before sleep.
Might she never wake up again like this?
After falling asleep, might she never open her eyes again?
Even after barely drifting off and barely greeting the early morning, what found her was not relief, but an even greater anxiety.
When would she die?
Might she suddenly die in a place where everyone was gathered?
No matter how much she dressed like a Saint.
No matter how much she smiled like a Saint.
No matter how much she walked about like a Saint, Irina was still Irina.
Not a great Saint revered by all, but simply Irina.
She was just an ordinary girl who had only just turned seventeen.
She had no magnificent resolve, no conviction of desperate purpose.
She merely had one small dream.
To love ordinarily like everyone else, to marry.
To give birth to a child who looked just like her, to tell stories of days gone by.
If wanting to live like that was a dream, then it was her dream.
She felt resentment, too.
Had she become a Saint because she wanted to?
Why was she, who had lived on the streets without even knowing her parents, a Saint?
Why, of all people?
So when Claire came to find her, a faint glimmer of hope had stirred deep within her heart.
Might she survive?
If she pretended to relent and went along?
If it was the Empire, surely there would be some way?
"...I cannot go."
But in the end, she could not do it.
What had been the reason?
Despite wanting so desperately to live, how had she been able to speak so calmly in front of Claire?
"If I die together with Hiberunia, then at least God's absence will remain a secret forever."
She had become a Saint in a daze, swept along by circumstances, but looking back, it had not been wholly unwelcome.
Studying the doctrine of hope had been enjoyable, and she had met many good people, had she not?
Though having to eat only vegetables every day had not been pleasant, she had dearly loved the peaceful days spent in the Holy Order.
"The people who remain will pray to the God who does not exist, and they will find hope."
As she spoke, she realized.
The answer was exceedingly simple.
"Even if it is a hope that does not truly exist, in the moment you believe in it, it is real hope."
Because she was the Saint.
Because even if she was but an unremarkable girl, there were those who believed she was the Saint, who earnestly looked up to and admired her.
"That is why there is no such thing as false hope in this world."
She was utterly awkward.
Her pure white priestly robes.
Her own softly flowing hair.
Her very gait, her manner of speaking, her actions, even the smiles she forced—every last one of them was clumsy and lacking.
She was ashamed and sorry.
She thought how hard it must be for everyone that someone like her had become the Saint.
Because it was her first time.
Perhaps even God had been awkward and clumsy at first.
Yet had they not believed and waited?
Had they not smiled, saying that everyone was like that at first?
Perhaps it was because each and every such smile had been so precious that she had ended up like this.
"Focus your divine power! Match Saint Irina's flow!"
A landscape resembling the infernal realms unfolded, and bizarre, monstrous things surged in with sinister energy.
Dangerous beings approached—so dangerous that even the Empire would abandon Hiberunia.
In an instant, the encirclement was breached and the barriers collapsed.
To oppose them, she unfolded a divine barrier together with the high priests.
"Activate the Divine Tree to maximum capacity!"
The moment she unleashed her divine power to its utmost, she could feel it.
If she were to exhaust her divine power to the very bottom, her body would no longer regenerate.
That a body already shattered hundreds of times over would now completely break down.
That the end of it all would inevitably be death.
"Saint Irina is with us! We can hold out a few more hours! We must stop them somehow within that time!"
Even knowing this, she raised her divine power even more desperately.
Thinking back, there was no magnificent resolve or conviction.
She simply wished that the people around her would not die.
Even if not as the Saint, as Irina, that alone was reason enough for her to die.
"Hold fast! Do not forget that we are the light of hope!"
Even Cardinal Herald's voice, always so gentle, was urgent—she understood how dire the situation was.
Any other time, Irina would have raised her voice alongside him to encourage the other priests, but this time, she could not.
"Lipyue is with us!"
For her vision had blurred and was immediately swallowed by pure white.
Had her eyes shattered?
Were her destroyed pupils failing to regenerate, leaving her unable to see?
Even so, she did not stop raising her divine power.
"...Rina... what...!"
It seemed something was going wrong with her ears as well.
All sounds came distantly, as if shouted from far away, and she had completely lost her sense of direction.
Fragmented sounds that seemed like cheers, or perhaps cries of shock, reached her, but even those soon died away completely.
She was left alone in a world where nothing could be seen and nothing could be heard.
Even so, she continued to raise her divine power.
Before long, even her sense of touch vanished.
Whether her body had shattered or she had collapsed, she could feel nothing.
Even so, she continued to raise her divine power.
Soon, all sensation was severed.
She could not feel her heartbeat, nor could she know if she was breathing.
Whether her divine power had run dry or still remained.
Whether she was even alive.
Even so, she continued to raise her divine power.
It might be futile.
She might have already died long ago; she might be nothing more than a delusion of a mind whose divine power had run dry.
In truth, that was the more likely possibility.
Yet she did not stop pouring out her divine power.
One in a thousand, one in ten thousand.
If she was still alive, was she not of help?
Could she not save even a few others?
Time itself became tangled, and she could no longer know how much had passed, but—
Whether mere hours had passed, or days, or years, she could not tell, yet she continued to pour out her divine power.
There was only the thought that she must do so.
That alone filled her mind, and for an eons-long span—perhaps years, perhaps decades, perhaps centuries—she thought only of pouring out her divine power.
How long had she remained like that?
How long had she struggled alone in that pure white world where nothing could be seen, heard, or felt?
Characters of unknown meaning appeared before her eyes.
「The God of Patience and Magic wishes to designate you as an Apostle.」
「Do you accept?」
Strange.
Her eyes were surely blind; she should not be able to see anything—so how could she see such characters?
That thought brushed faintly through her mind, but she immediately turned away from it.
She had to pour out divine power.
If she did not, others would die.
There was no room for any other thought.
But new characters rose again.
「The subject is not in a state capable of judgment or expression of will.」
She began to understand the meaning of the characters.
「The position of Apostle is forcibly conferred.」
Light flooded in.
Not a meaningless white, but a radiantly shining pure white light.
Forgotten sensations returned; tangled time untangled itself.
「You have been appointed as the second Apostle of Hio Pavlenko, God of Patience and Magic.」
Along with the white radiance, the first thing she felt was—
"...Apostle Irina."
A colossal presence.
The figure of a new God, somehow smiling a little awkwardly.
* * *
Having arrived at the capital of Hiberunia, Hio swallowed her rising anxiety and headed straight for the Holy Order.
The city was silent.
There were many noises, but the very waves one felt were calm and still, as if sunken in deep waters.
Moving quickly, she arrived at one of the deepest places within the Order.
A small bedroom prepared there.
All of Hiberunia's most prominent high priests were gathered there, surrounding a single bed, every one of them kneeling.
They were offering prayers with tears streaming down.
Though she hesitated at the sight, it was only for a moment.
Slowly, she entered the room.
"......"
What she saw was the figure of a person lying on the bed.
A woman of such terrible appearance that one doubted whether she was truly alive.
Her skin was dried to the bone, her eyes sunken in, and all ten fingers were shattered.
At that wretched sight, not a single person opened their mouth, and not one could properly raise their head.
Even so, with each step she took, a very faint voice could be heard.
A small voice endlessly repeating, forcibly moving parched lips.
"I must..."
I must do it.
"Divine power..."
I must pour out divine power.
She was repeating only those words, endlessly.
Even though she could not see anything or hear anything.
Was it a miracle born of such will?
A faint divine power, as feeble as her voice, was seeping out from Irina's body.
That was the only reason she had endured until now.
Who could point a finger at her merely because her appearance was grotesque?
Who could dare raise their head before such nobility?
Who would doubt a sacred heart, a noble will?
The girl with the most sacred and noble heart, chosen personally by the Last Goddess.
And so Hio placed her hand over Irina's empty eyes and raised divine power.
「Offering the position of 'Apostle' to the subject.」
「The subject is not in a state capable of judgment or expression of will.」
「The position of Apostle is forcibly conferred.」
「Divine Points—'80,000 Pt' will be consumed.」
The newly bestowed Apostle's rank elevated Irina's flesh, and divine power began to envelop her.
Her shattered hands regenerated, and her dried skin swelled with elasticity.
Gently lifting the hand she had placed over Irina's empty eyelids.
"...Apostle Irina."
The new Apostle was looking up at Hio with clear, pure-white eyes.