WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

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◈ Omniscient First-Person's Viewpoint

Chapter 540

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Descent of the Saintess

On the western edge of the continent, built on a peninsula stretching into the Mediterranean, stood a lighthouse monastery. It was the lantern of sailors navigating the Mediterranean coast, the continent's only sea route. The monks who lived here, where ocean wind never stopped blowing, had skin burnt dark from a life spent facing down the merciless sea.

Gylo, a monk of the lighthouse monastery, was checking the Lakion Grand White Wall when he noticed letters spreading across it in red. A monk had a duty to copy down whatever appeared on the Grand White Wall immediately and preserve it as an official record. He hurried to gather paper and pen, but when he moved to write, he caught sight of the red smear and furrowed his brow.

"Red? The Blood Monastery?"

The Blood Monastery had nothing worth conveying through the Grand White Wall. What could Heretics from those distant Wildlands possibly have to announce?

"Probably more lies about the Apostle of the Lamb appearing again."

That was all the Blood Monastery ever had to say. He dipped his pen into the red ink with little enthusiasm.

Then the Grand White Wall turned red.

It looked as if someone had committed murder with the wall as a backdrop. Blood spatters ran across the surface, and words were carved into it in fresh crimson, as if a dying victim had used their own blood to leave a final message. The sight was so eerie and brutal that the monk startled and slammed his knee against the desk.

"Ow!"

It was obviously an abnormal event, but the monk had a duty to record even that.

Snapping back to his sense of obligation, he scrambled to transcribe what was written on the Grand White Wall, then read the words and realized the effort was pointless.

The Blood Monastery was requesting an audience with the Holy Maiden.

Similar things happened across the world at the same moment. On the small Grand White Wall buried in a desert in the Lesser States. On the Grand White Wall at the Empire's main cathedral, as tall as a city wall. A revelation so rough and barbaric it could only be called an aberration rang out across them all.

Everyone knew who had committed such an outrage upon the Grand White Wall, the medium through which the words of god were conveyed. But there was nothing anyone could do but watch.

It had all happened at the Blood Monastery, which held dominion over the Wildlands on the far side of the continent, beyond the Enger Plain.

Yegrekheria, who had carried it all out with great satisfaction, pressed both hands against the wall that was now scarlet instead of white.

"The Holy Maidens cannot ignore this. Ah, it has been so long since I last received a Holy Maiden's revelation!"

"You wanted a definitive answer, but this is a bit extreme."

"The Sanctum are guardians of stuffy order and convention. They are dullards who only respond to extremity. To reach the Holy Maiden, you must throw them a problem that they alone could never resolve!"

Fair enough. Even the formidable Sanctum could not leave the Grand White Wall drenched in blood. Sure enough, a signal came right away.

[How dare a vampire defile the Lakion Grand White Wall with blood! Are you desecrating the sacred bricks that record the teachings of the First Holy Maiden?!]

White letters rose on the blood-soaked Grand White Wall. At that moment, fierce light burst forth and drove the blood energy away from the stained white wall.

[Blemishes shall be cleansed by light! Fallen nun, vanish into the dustbin of history!]

Long ago, when the teachings of the Celestial God were branded heresy and their followers persecuted, the First Holy Maiden wrote words on fired bricks and secretly taught literacy and faith to the people. When soldiers came, the faithful fitted their bricks together to conceal the teachings.

Then one day, soldiers who had grown suspicious tore the brickwork apart. At the very moment the Holy Maiden's teachings were about to be exposed, a miracle occurred. The Celestial God's teachings had transformed into a stern rebuke aimed at the oppressors. The oppressors' soldiers recognized that the Holy Maiden was a true prophet and repented.

The miracle born of that old tale was the Lakion Grand White Wall, named after a brickmaker who had fired those bricks for them.

All Grand White Walls, wherever they stood, were one and the same. The Celestial God's teachings crossed every Grand White Wall to reach their destination.

Which also meant that a miracle performed at one monastery could affect the Blood Monastery.

Words appeared across the Grand White Walls everywhere.

[We condemn you!]

[You shall be punished!]

[Repent!]

Clusters of light erupted across the Grand White Walls. Sacred light, which purified all things, punched holes through the blood energy flooding the walls. The growing clusters of light tore at the curtain of blood, trying to return the Grand White Walls to white.

"To ask for teachings is to seek arrival, and to reach out a hand is to seek closeness. To hear my voice and feel my touch is the very path toward the Celestial God. Then those who block that path are demons."

Bloodcraft, Exorcist Blood Rite.

The sacred blood rite of exorcism was performed. The vampire nun chanted scripture and released blood energy.

The light clusters still flickered. But the curtain of blood only yielded for a moment before it flowed back and filled every gap. Dozens of sacred lights could not overwhelm the blood rite, and they pulsed on and off at intervals.

"You cannot erase my words by telling me not to defile this place. You cannot condemn and erase my words simply because I wrote them in blood energy. The scriptures say nothing of the kind."

"That is because there were no vampires in those days."

"But they do not say it, do they?"

To a fanatical zealot, anything not written in the scriptures is not truth. An extreme literalist brushes against an extreme progressive, both tend to be lenient about what their doctrine does not explicitly cover.

The light on the Grand White Wall flickered as if flustered. No fewer than dozens of monks were exerting their power, and still they could not handle Yegrekheria alone. It would take at least an abbot or bishop-level cleric acting simultaneously to put up even a fight.

There was, of course, a more straightforward way to resolve the situation. It amounted to granting the demands of a terrorist, but it was the more reliable option. All at once Yegrekheria lifted her head, and her expression lit up.

"Ah, our Holy Maiden, blessed by the First Holy Maiden. Thank you for gracing this monastery with your mercy!"

And causality warped.

There was a sound like something tightly drawn snapping apart. At the same moment, the blood energy packed thick across the Grand White Wall vanished in an instant.

Not dispersed. Not driven away. The Grand White Wall simply returned to its original state. A different order of miracle entirely, nothing like a simple contest of power.

The Grand White Wall had been restored through the Holy Maiden's power.

On the wall, which had recovered its purity as though it had never been stained with blood, a single person's words rose gently.

[I have stopped you, Yegrekheria. Because I have come to you myself.]

What? What does that mean?

Even at words that seemed to warp causality in some strange way, Yegrekheria clasped both hands together with deep emotion and welcomed the Holy Maiden's revelation.

"Oh, Lord. This lowly servant of the Celestial God welcomes the light that has come to this remote monastery."

Words could be written on the Grand White Wall, but voices could not be conveyed through it. Yegrekheria manipulated blood energy to write on the wall's surface. But the blood energy vanished the moment it touched the Grand White Wall, which was being held in its original form by some unknown power.

A Holy Maiden's authority was a power of a higher order than divine force. Blessed with a vision that transcended time and space, they could perform miracles beyond imagination. Without any relation to Yegrekheria's own power or authority, the Holy Maiden had simply "erased" the blood energy and wrote her reply with perfect composure.

[Whatever I answer, it is not possible to undo the twisted causality that is you. That is providence. But as a Holy Maiden, I make a request of you, who were once devout. Cease your wandering and return to god's embrace. Even if that body is cursed, I will preserve only your spirit so that it may reclaim the light.]

That is just telling her to die. A true Sanctum believer probably would not think twice about dying for the faith. Yegrekheria smiled faintly and waved one bloodstained finger.

"Ah, Holy Maiden. You jest too much. Fear not death, if one possesses a clear and pure spirit, the Celestial God will gladly make room at their side. If my spirit is clear, what reason is there that even this lowly body cannot bestow goodness and virtue?"

Again the writing vanished before it even reached the Grand White Wall. It was obvious the words had not passed through, yet the Holy Maiden sent a reply as though she had understood perfectly.

[It is the Holy Maiden's fate to be unable to avoid even a predetermined outcome. I had to ask, knowing you would not comply. Therefore I will hold my tongue on the question you are about to ask.]

"Holy Maiden. What I wished to convey to you..."

[That was not addressed to you, Yegrekheria. It was addressed to the King of Humanity who has been inciting you.]

Wait? She should not be able to see me.

The Grand White Wall was nothing more than a wall that produced the same text in every location. It conveyed neither scenes nor circumstances. Yet somehow, the Holy Maiden on the other side of the white wall was looking directly at me.

[There is no need to labor over repeating answers you already know. I cannot give you answers you do not know. The causality that would continue this conversation has ended, and I can close this loop.]

Those words are true.

Whatever we say, whatever blood rite Yegrekheria performs, that Holy Maiden can close this conversation at will and refuse to continue it. That must be the power of Tichiel, the Holy Maiden of Causality.

I could not even begin to guess what kind of ability it was. Reading her thoughts and grasping her essence would probably leave me no better off. It was the kind of power that was difficult to understand, like the Steel Maiden Peruel, and even if I understood it I could not break through it.

Still, Holy Maidens were not omnipotent. The very fact that this conversation had taken place at all, when the Holy Maiden of Causality could not reach the causality connecting us, meant there was some room to work with.

"Then does that mean I am free to think whatever I like?"

Before Yegrekheria could even write the words, the Grand White Wall answered on its own.

[Yes. This is a conversation already concluded.]

So what I have already figured out is mostly right, and anything still at the hypothesis stage she cannot tell me anyway. A reasonable stance, but regrettably, it is not enough right now.

Because there is someone here who will not understand unless it is explained to them.

"That is what it says, Mr. Shei. What do you make of it?"

The regressor, who had been standing there with a sulky look, answered in irritation.

"What is it even saying? Explain it so I can actually understand."

'Tichiel's way of speaking is so convoluted it is hard to follow. Hah, if the head of the Holy Sword Corps were here, she would translate for me. There is no way to know through the Grand White Wall.'

At that, the Grand White Wall went blank for a moment. In a handwriting that was clearly flustered, the Holy Maiden's message came through.

[Yegrekheria. What is it you are gathering? Causality is twist...]

That was when it happened.

The letters crumbled.

The words hanging in the air trembled, broke apart into consonants and vowels, and collapsed. The letters that fell to the base of the Grand White Wall rearranged themselves and formed a single line.

Light descended from the heavens.

In that instant, without any warning, without any sign, a girl with her eyes quietly closed appeared in the chapel.

No, could you even call it appearing?

If presence meant existence, she radiated an overwhelming one. Even when I had my head turned away, I was aware that she was there in that spot. My consciousness fixed on her more surely than on anything else.

But she was not here. That phantom had no warm body heat, no trace of weight, no refined voice.

There was no one here. But she undeniably existed. I could paint her appearance if asked. Yet if I held up a mirror, her form would vanish like an illusion.

It was less that she was here, and more that the "fact" of her being here was being conveyed directly into my mind. I could not read her thoughts and she had no sense of reality, but she was clearly present.

"It has been a dreadfully long time, King of Humanity and Yegrekheria."

A voice reached us that seemed to cross time and space, soft and clear, carrying some immutable truth within it. The Holy Maiden, eyes closed in stillness, looked directly toward the regressor and offered a melancholy greeting.

"And, my last hope and first despair."

I could not read her thoughts, so I had no idea who she was or what power she held. But the regressor knew who stood before her. Faced with a miracle of staggering scale, the regressor greeted her with the ease of familiarity, a look of genuine gladness.

"Nice to meet you, Maiél."

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