WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Irevi
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ I Became the Upbeat Newbie the Infinite Regressors Are Obsessed With ◈
Chapter 37: Heresy Purge (2)
──────
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Solataire woke with a start at the sudden sound of a pot being struck.
“S-Saintess!”
She threw off her blanket and hurried outside the temporary chapel.
An astonishing sight awaited her.
“Everyone, come over! Let’s have a party today!”
Solataire saw sacks of grain at the Saintess’s feet.
She could hardly believe it.
‘Where on earth did she get that?’
But her reasonable suspicion lasted only a moment.
Grrrrumble...
With her stomach stuck to her back, Solataire immediately scampered over to the Saintess.
The children her age swallowed hard as they stared at the grain sacks before the Saintess.
After a long while of waiting, with no one daring to step forward, the pot banging stopped.
The Saintess looked around, wiped away her tears, and spoke.
“You’re all here. Not a single person is missing.”
“Saintess, what... what is going on? And where did you leave the holy relic?”
Eldin, the oldest person in the refugee camp, asked.
The Saintess smiled softly.
“Hehe. I have secrets I can’t tell anyone about too, you know?”
Eldin started to ask another question, then tightly shut his mouth.
The Saintess was no ordinary Saintess.
She was a prophet who seemed to see the future at every moment. Now, she was also the representative of the sleeping Sun God.
Once the Saintess made a decision, she never took it back.
In other words, no matter what he did, the Saintess had no intention of revealing where the vanished holy relic and grain had come from.
Eldin could only nod.
Still.
As the one who handled the refugee camp’s affairs while the Saintess prayed, Eldin could not help swallowing a groan.
‘The time has come.’
The Black World Tree had already reached the sky.
And now they were going to use up a sack of grain seeds, from who knew where, in one night.
It was a situation perfectly suited to the phrase “last supper.”
Then it happened.
“Saintess! Um... do we have to eat it?”
Eldin looked at Solataire, the red-haired girl standing beside him.
She clutched her hungry stomach and continued.
Her stomach was still growling.
“Couldn’t we... grow it instead?”
A few children gulped at her words.
Not one of them argued with Solataire.
Solataire, the red-haired tomboy.
Solataire, the ringleader of the refugee camp’s alleys.
On the day of the world’s destruction, she was talking about the future.
Even if the world ended tomorrow.
Solataire said they should plant a grain plant.
A pain like a blade carved itself into Eldin’s chest.
‘Children this young are talking about the future...’
His heart ached this much. He could not even imagine how much pain the Saintess, who embraced everyone with love, must feel.
But unlike Eldin’s worries, there was not the slightest sadness in the Saintess’s eyes.
Her golden irises were filled with hope and certainty for the future.
“Solataire is right. Of course we should grow it!”
A child who had been sucking their finger while watching Solataire cautiously raised a hand and spoke regretfully.
“Th-then... we can’t eat today?”
The child was skin and bones.
Their cheeks were hollow, and their eyes brimmed with tears.
The Saintess patted her own stomach.
“No! I told you, didn’t I? We’re going to eat until we burst today!”
Eldin’s eyes widened.
That made no sense.
If they were going to eat their fill, how could they grow it?
How?
“Today, tomorrow, and from now on. This grain will keep appearing.”
“W-what?”
“Has anyone ever seen me lie? If you have, raise your hand.”
Naturally, no one raised a hand.
Just as everyone was wondering whether something had happened to the Saintess’s mind...
“Solataire.”
Eldin stepped forward.
“Go fetch the pot with the other children.”
“Grandpa Eldin...”
“Go on.”
A brief silence followed.
It was broken by the growling stomachs clamoring for food.
Grrrrumble!
Solataire clutched her hungry stomach and hesitated.
But the other children took their rumbling stomachs as a signal, joining hands one by one and heading to fetch the largest pot in the village.
“Big Sis Solataire! Hurry and help!”
“Let’s go, Sis!”
“...”
Solataire looked at the Saintess.
The Saintess winked at her.
Solataire soon broke into a bright smile and ran off with the other children.
Perhaps it was because they were children that they could take the Saintess at her word.
Only adults remained after the children left.
“Ugh... sob...”
“Saintess...”
They began to weep, each releasing tears they had held back.
Tomorrow, perhaps even today.
The world would end.
The refugee camp survivors knelt before the Saintess, each sobbing. The Saintess prayed as she stroked each of their heads.
Watching her, Eldin felt his heart pound fiercely for the first time in a long while.
There were things one could only see after growing old.
From the moment she struck the pot until now, the Saintess had not let go of hope.
That was the powerful feeling he had.
“Saintess...”
“Grandpa Eldin, you come here too.”
“Ah... ah...”
A clear tear flowed down his deeply wrinkled face.
May there be salvation even in this hellish world.
Eldin fell to his knees.
The Saintess’s warm hand stroked Eldin’s completely bald head.
“Let’s pray. Let’s offer prayers of thanks to the two people who made today’s miracle possible.”
Two people.
Who could the other one be?
Surely, if the Saintess spoke of them so highly, they must be someone worthy of standing beside a saint.
Eldin added nothing and simply nodded.
“Yes... we should.”
Until the children returned, huffing and puffing under the weight of the pot.
Two names rang out in succession through the refugee camp square.
May Sola-Estella watch over us...
May Amor Fati work a miracle...
* * *
A pleasant lingering scent of thin gruel filled the refugee camp.
How long had it been since they had eaten until they were full?
Even though it was only watery gruel, they could only be grateful for the feeling of full stomachs.
They all went to bed with peaceful expressions.
Of course, Elena Evangeline’s divine-power-infused lullaby played a major part in that.
It was so that, in the final moments before each regression, she could send off the people of the refugee camp without pain.
It was the final routine of every regression life.
After confirming that everyone in the refugee camp was asleep, Elena looked toward Baal’s Tree, the Black World Tree.
It would be soon.
Before long, demonic flowers would bloom from that dreadful tree, and Baal would descend.
Before the newbie came to the Infinite Regression Gallery, she had faced her regressions locked inside the chapel in fear.
But not anymore.
Elena had gained hope to live for tomorrow.
The next Run would bring a more abundant life to the refugee camp.
“I’m not afraid of you anymore, Baal.”
Rumble...
The Great Demon’s name fell from the Saintess’s lips.
As though responding, the demonic tree, so vast it destroyed all sense of perspective, trembled.
As though mocking her.
As though dismissing her.
But Elena Evangeline continued without concern.
“I thought it was a curse.”
The ruined infinite regression.
Despair repeating without end.
“But not anymore.”
It was true.
She had clenched her teeth and endured to the very end.
And as a result.
She was able to meet the newbie, Amor Fati.
Elena joined her hands and offered her final prayer.
“May Sola-Estella watch over us!”
Fwoooosh!
The light was neither dazzling nor like a tidal wave.
It was faint.
“May Your radiant blessings spread across the whole world!”
That was why she had not bothered resisting at the final moment before.
But not anymore.
“Let everyone love one another!”
Elena Evangeline, the Saintess of Infinite Regression, would change.
That was what she decided.
Was that why?
To the Lord’s Prayer, which would normally have ended there, Elena added her own words.
Those words the newbie had casually thrown into the Infinite Regression Gallery.
Words that were all the more heartfelt because of that.
“As long as there’s a Continue button!”
Fwoooosh!
The golden blessing gradually began to grow.
“The happy ending is guaranteed!”
Rumble...
Baal’s Tree instantly bloomed with red demonic flowers.
Then Great Demon Baal tore through the tree’s trunk and descended into the world.
Elena took in the final boss of her world with her own eyes.
Red skin, goat legs, and horns upon their head.
They were a demon risen straight from hell.
Sensing divine power, Baal reached a hand toward the refugee camp.
A massive hand descended, ignoring all sense of distance and perspective.
Though she had little divine power left, Elena squeezed out every last bit and resisted.
Whoooosh!
She was an ant beneath an elephant’s foot.
But she did not stop.
For her, the moment of regression was no longer the restart of despair.
It was simply the moment before welcoming a new tomorrow.
Elena’s resistance did not last long.
Boom!
Great Demon Baal’s palm crushed the refugee camp.
As the world went dark, she thought.
‘This is actually... better.’
That was.
Her first regression since the newbie entered the Infinite Regression Gallery.
* * *
Flash!
Elena came to her senses.
She was at her now-familiar regression point.
The temporary chapel.
Of course, the situation was far better now.
Rather than a chapel broken apart everywhere, it was a chapel that had been kept relatively clean.
The emptiness she felt in her chest was only momentary.
She immediately turned her head.
The sack of grain seeds sent by the newbie remained there, completely intact.
A happy smile naturally spread across her face.
“Grandpa Eldin!”
Elena called for Eldin.
Not long after, Eldin entered the chapel, still with patches of hair left on his head.
He was not gaunt or starving.
This was Eldin from when supplies were still plentiful.
Elena stood with one hand on her waist.
“Th-this is?!”
Eldin’s eyes went wide as he entered the chapel.
Elena immediately rolled up her sleeves and began moving the sacks of grain.
“Grandpa Eldin, please help me. Starting today, we’re going to farm!”
“What? What? Ah! Yes!”
That day, the people of the refugee camp busily began farming.
There was not much yet.
But they believed that someday, in the future to come, it would become golden fields.
Footnotes:
“Amor Fati” is a Latin phrase meaning “love of fate.”
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