WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Natty

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Regressor and the Blind Saintess ◈

Chapter 15: Seven Days and Nights of White Night

──────

Four years.

Time had passed, long by some measures and short by others.

But for someone waiting for the Saintess, it had been a very long time.

Though so much time had passed, the face branded into his mind, the voice, the days they had shared, still stirred a thirst within him at every moment.

Even though he did not know where she was, even though all he knew was that she was somewhere in the Horden Kingdom, he wanted to leave at once and find her.

Yet he could not, because he lacked confidence in himself.

Because he believed he had not yet become someone worthy of her.

For the past four years, Vera had relinquished his position as an Apostle and served as Vargo's squire.

He had trailed after him to learn the Protecting Sword.

He spent those long years attending to Vargo every day, but regrettably, there was nothing he could call an achievement.

Vera still did not understand the Protecting Sword.

His sword was still sharp. He enjoyed attacking more than defending, and his blade bore more wildness than reason.

He did not understand faith, either.

Vera still could not clearly say what faith meant.

Faith remained a difficult problem to Vera, and his Holy Mark was a useful tool.

Over those four years, Vera refined the divine art he named Sanctuary and trained his body, achieving immeasurable outward growth. Yet his inner growth remained slow.

The only realization Vera gained from those four years was that he was an arrogant and ignorant person.

Time did not wait for Vera's slow steps.

"Brat."

"Yes."

Early one morning, in the prayer hall of the Grand Temple.

As he had done for the past four years, Vera had come to pray alongside Vargo. At the call, he opened the eyes he had kept closed until then.

At the end of his gaze stood Vargo, a man for whom the word oddity seemed fitting.

He was clearly more frail than when they had first met.

The large frame that had once made Vera crane his neck just to meet Vargo's eyes no longer seemed so large.

Vargo's back had bent further, while Vera had grown taller.

They now stood at the same height as they faced one another, but Vera found it unpleasant for some reason and could not look at him directly.

That was why he always lowered his head when answering Vargo's calls.

As Vera waited for Vargo's response with his head bowed, Vargo spoke.

"...How goes your training in the sacred arts?"

"I have much left to learn."

"Are you always going to have much left to learn?"

"I am ashamed."

"Bah. Tch."

At the sound of Vargo clicking his tongue, Vera lowered his head still further.

By recognizing his own shortcomings and following behind Vargo, Vera had barely managed to learn humility.

He had come to show Vargo the respect that other paladins of the Holy Kingdom did.

"So, are you going to keep trailing after me like a little pup? Hm? How long do you plan to do nothing but waste food?"

It was something Vargo had been saying for a whole year.

Vera realized it was time to give a different answer.

It was time to stop delaying his independence in hopes of gathering even one more small realization.

Vera moved his lips.

How should he say it? How could he persuade Vargo and earn a place as the Saintess's guard?

It was a concern that had tormented him endlessly. After much thought, he had finally found an answer.

"Your Holiness, may I have Sir Norn?"

"Hm? What do you want that one for?"

"I wish to go out on my own."

Vera raised his head after speaking and met Vargo's eyes.

The eyes he had always thought held unfathomable depths came into view.

They could have seemed sly or uncanny, but Vera now understood that their depth held the weight of years.

"...I intend to form a retinue."

"What sort of retinue?"

"Do you remember what I said?"

"Of course. How could I forget you groveling about, saying you wanted to follow at someone's heels?"

Vera flinched at Vargo's mockery.

He had heard it countless times while remaining at Vargo's side, but it still provoked his temper every time.

Vera let out a quiet breath, steadied his emotions, and continued.

"...Yes. I intend to form a retinue for that purpose."

There had been a time when he agonized over how to say this while hiding his regression.

But no suitable method came to mind, so he had ultimately chosen the straightforward approach.

Of course, he would not directly say that he knew a Saintess would appear because he had regressed, or that he was gathering a retinue to guard the Saintess who would soon appear.

He was not someone who would pry into every detail.

The Vargo he had watched over the past four years was not the sort of person to question such matters closely.

The public called him the father of all paladins.

He was someone who embraced the priests of the Holy Kingdom with the understanding one would expect of a father.

Perhaps that was why Vera had begun to show him respect, despite him being such an irritating old man.

As Vera continued thinking while waiting for an answer, Vargo, who had worn an indifferent expression until then, picked at his ear and asked,

"Is it a girl?"

Vera's expression stiffened.

"Must be. You throw a fit whenever you see that Rohan bastard, but you're no different. Your brain's between your legs."

"...That is rather harsh."

"Harsh? Just looking at that gloomy face of yours, you seem like the type to fool around like that."

Vera clenched his fist.

"Then will you permit it?"

"If I told you not to, would you refrain?"

"...My apologies."

"Insolent brat. Do as you please."

Vargo rose to his feet and left the prayer hall alone.

"I'm going for a walk, so inform Norn yourself."

"Thank you."

No answer came back. Vargo simply fell silent and walked away.

Only after Vargo passed through the doors of the prayer hall and disappeared from sight did Vera release a small breath and relax.

It was done.

At last, he could take up the position he had sought from the beginning.

Three days remained.

On the day the continent stood at the exact middle of the year, the Seven Days and Nights of White Night would begin.

A miracle brought about when the High God's Holy Mark descended upon the continent.

A salute from the gods, blessing the new Saintess.

It was about to begin.

Once the Seven Days and Nights of White Night began...

The continent would become a cauldron of chaos.

The entire continent would move to claim the High God's authority held by the Saintess.

The High God's authority was a power worth doing so for.

The Fate-Weaving Authority.

It was an authority that intervened in providence itself and rewrote predetermined fate.

With the Saintess's authority, even a slash-and-burn farmer from some backwater could become the emperor of an empire.

Even the lowliest beggar could become the wealthiest person on the continent.

Even someone with only a limited time left to live could gain a life that would last a hundred years.

Of course, such power could not be used without a price.

The Saintess could not change her own fate.

Furthermore, if the scale of the turning point created by using that authority exceeded the total amount of divinity she possessed, the Saintess had to bear the burden herself.

For example, if she did something that changed the continent's entire history, such as making a slash-and-burn farmer into an emperor, the burden would overwhelm her and her soul would fade away.

In other words, the High God's authority was a power used with the Saintess's soul as collateral.

It was an exceedingly dangerous power, but regrettably, that was not important to those who received its benefits.

Why would it be? The one who bore the burden was the Saintess, not the beneficiary.

To them, the Saintess was like a sacred relic that could bring them glory without any cost.

Vera continued his thoughts and recalled those who had moved to find the Saintess in his previous life.

The emperor of the empire would move.

The emperor, whose position was immediately at risk, would move personally to make the imperial family glorious once more.

The Tower Master of the Mage Tower would move.

They would move to comprehend the greatest providence.

The head of the Alliance of Kingdoms, the leader of the dragonkin, and the Followers of the Night would move.

All of them would move to find that one Saintess.

None of them would be easy opponents. But Vera was not afraid. He possessed power that did not fall behind theirs.

He had his Holy Mark. He had the martial strength he had built through training. The Holy Kingdom stood behind him.

There was no reason he could not protect the Saintess.

Suddenly, Vera remembered the Saintess, who had lived in a corner of a filthy gutter without even her authority.

Her wretched appearance. Her final end, collapsing dead without a single person to mourn her.

It was an event that would inevitably happen if he did not intervene.

...This time, I will not let that happen.

He would never let the Saintess meet such an end.

He would become the sturdiest bastion, one no one would dare breach to reach her.

He would see that she was praised for nothing but her nobility.

And he would spend his life at her side.

He would keep the oath engraved upon his soul, the promise he had wagered his life upon.

He still had no confidence in himself.

He was still arrogant and ignorant. He did not know what faith was. His swordsmanship was ferocious beyond measure, and he was not the sort of person anyone could call good, even in jest.

But he no longer had the leisure to hesitate over standing at her side because he lacked confidence.

Time would not wait for him to be ready.

The Seven Days and Nights of White Night would begin whether he wanted it to or not, and in its midst, he would have to stop countless enemies who sought the Saintess.

I will not run.

I will not run from the vow I made myself, nor from its responsibility.

I will gladly accept the consequences of my arrogance and ignorance.

I will willingly carry the weight of the blood spilled by a blade that knew only how to tear apart.

I will not claim that the world I see through my shallow view is right.

I will simply carry all of it and live for my vow.

Vera's gaze turned toward the mural of the Nine Gods painted on the front wall of the prayer hall.

Whatever you desire is none of my concern.

If it aligns with what I want, then so much the better. If not, so be it.

I will not go out of my way to solve the difficult problem you have cast before me.

Since the final moment of that ugly life, only one thing had mattered to him.

I will protect the Saintess by my own will.

The light that had shone upon him in that moment.

A life spent protecting that light was enough.

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried