WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Natty

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◈ The Regressor and the Blind Saintess ◈

Chapter 2: The Gutter

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Pain so intense it felt as though Vera's whole body were breaking apart. Vera's eyes flew open.

“Ah...”

What escaped Vera's lips was a dry, cracked sound, as though his throat might shrivel up at any moment.

His head rang. A scritching noise bored into his ears. Dampness clung unpleasantly to his skin, and every breath brought chest pain that seemed to turn his insides over.

Unbearable sensations, and a body in the worst possible state.

What was going on?

As that thought arose, Vera slowly turned his still-mobile head and looked around.

‘This is...’

A dark space.

A pile of wooden boards that only resembled a house, unable to keep out even the wind and rain, with water streaming in through the gaps.

The only things inside were several layers of ragged cloth and a few brass bowls streaked with rust.

Black insects crawled across the walls, while muddy water dripped from the roof.

The stale air and scritching noise seemed to be caused by them.

As Vera looked around, realization came at once.

...There was no way he could fail to recognize this place.

‘The Gutter.’

Vera had awakened in the Gutter, called the Empire's festering sore, where he had been born and raised.

A question surfaced in his mind.

Why was he here?

With that thought, Vera recalled everything leading up to losing consciousness.

Surely...

‘I was dying from a curse.’

It was a curse brought on by the sins he had accumulated.

Three years had passed since the Demon King was defeated. The heroes, who had spent that time erasing the scars of the long war, had begun bringing order to the continent. Their sights had turned to Vera.

Vera had struggled desperately to escape, only to be struck by the curse and left dying.

Yet strangely enough, there was no trace of the curse that had been gnawing away at him.

All he felt were wounds and pain from the long years of battle.

Vera tried to remember why he was lying here after collapsing at the entrance to the Gutter. Unable to find an answer, he soon pushed the thought aside and closed his eyes.

Whether someone had saved him or this was another person's scheme, there was nothing Vera could do in his current condition. There was no reason to dwell on it.

It was a pitiful place, yet signs of someone living here could be seen everywhere.

Sooner or later, Vera would meet whoever lived here. Asking then would not be too late.

Having come to that conclusion, Vera closed his eyes and passed the time.

Then, with a creak, the shack's door opened.

Vera opened his eyes at the sound and looked toward the door.

The person entering was...

‘...A woman?’

She wore a tattered robe, and every bit of exposed skin had melted from burns, leaving her hideous to look at.

White hair poking out from beneath the hood was fouled with filth. Her bare feet were caked in mud.

She seemed blind as well. Her blue eyes held no light, and she walked unevenly with one hand against the wall.

Who was she?

As Vera considered this, he listened to the clinking sound that came whenever she moved.

‘Metal.’

The sound of metal striking metal.

‘Hidden weapons? Coins? Jewelry?’

Vera ran through every possibility that came to mind. Only after the woman sat down on the floor did he understand what was making the sound.

A platinum-colored necklace gleamed against the burned skin of her neck.

‘Jewelry.’

Vera's eyes narrowed.

Precious jewelry, something no one living in such a shabby shack should possess.

Vera suspected that the woman might have sold him out in exchange for that necklace.

It was a plausible conclusion. There were more than enough people seeking Vera who could readily pay for such an ornament.

As Vera watched her warily, she lowered her head, revealing the necklace more clearly.

Vera sharply drew a breath.

The necklace was something he knew well.

‘The Holy Kingdom's rosary.’

A platinum-colored rosary possessed only by those of the highest rank in the Holy Kingdom.

‘It isn't a counterfeit.’

Vera could tell at once, thanks to his trained eye.

‘And it couldn't have been traded, either.’

The platinum rosary was not something that could be assigned a value. Simply trading it would bring the entire Holy Kingdom down upon the offender.

Which meant the woman had to be someone from the Holy Kingdom.

At that moment, one person crossed Vera's mind.

‘White hair. Blindness. A platinum rosary.’

There were others with similar traits, but Vera could not dismiss the conclusion that had arisen.

Vera watched her with a tense expression before his lips finally moved.

“...Saintess.”

The cracked voice made the woman's body flinch.

Her whole body trembled, and her fingertips twitched.

Vera's deduction had been correct.

As Vera watched the Saintess with even greater caution, the Saintess turned her head toward Vera and spoke.

“You're awake.”

Her voice was clear, unlike her appearance. That was Vera's first thought upon hearing it.

After speaking, the Saintess began moving her facial muscles as she looked toward Vera.

Her burn scars twisted grotesquely with the movement, but Vera could tell she was smiling.

That was the impression she gave.

Her gentle tone, her unfocused blue eyes aimed directly toward Vera, and the way her facial muscles visibly struggled to rise.

For some reason, all of it felt like a smile.

Vera looked at the grotesquely melted face exposed through the holes in her tattered robe and asked,

“...I heard you were dead.”

The Saintess had supposedly died in the final battle against the Demon King. It had been such a well-known matter that even Vera knew of it.

Then why was the woman believed to be dead here, in this state?

When Vera asked in a voice full of questions, the Saintess gave a quiet laugh and answered playfully.

“If you mean the Saintess, then yes, she is dead.”

“Then who are you?”

“A mangy beggar of the Gutter.”

She was speaking indirectly, but Vera understood what she meant.

“...The Holy Kingdom held a fake funeral.”

“You cannot call it fake. The Saintess of the Holy Kingdom is dead, after all.”

As she spoke, the Saintess cautiously reached out and felt around Vera's chest.

A groan escaped Vera's lips at once. Her hand had passed over ribs battered by a blunt weapon.

“Ngh...!”

“Does it hurt badly?”

Vera clenched his teeth and stared at the Saintess.

“...”

He could not carelessly show weakness.

As Vera remained silent, the Saintess tilted her head and once again felt around his body.

“I have finished the immediate treatment, but you will need to recover here for a while. It may be uncomfortable, but please bear with it for a little while.”

Her voice was filled with concern.

That made Vera even more wary.

‘What does she want?’

She did not seem to be after Vera.

Still, there were far too many questions for Vera to find an answer.

Why was the Saintess alive? Why was she here in such a state? How had she found Vera, and did she know who he was?

As countless questions passed through Vera's mind, he decided to resolve them one by one.

“Did you lift the curse?”

“Fortunately, I still had enough strength.”

It was an ambiguous affirmation.

“Strength?”

“The Lord watched over me.”

Wrinkles formed on her melted face. Vera understood it as a smile.

Vera watched that smile and considered her use of the word strength.

Vera knew something of the Saintess's abilities.

The curse placed on Vera had been especially vicious, but if the Saintess still possessed her full power, lifting it should not have caused even a trace of fatigue.

There was no reason for the word strength to enter the conversation.

Vera stared at the Saintess in silence. Only after thinking for a long time did he understand what she meant.

“...You gave up your divine authority.”

“To say it was taken from me would be incorrect. It was never mine to begin with.”

The Saintess continued in a gentle voice with a hint of laughter.

“I merely returned what had been lent to me.”

“You gave it up willingly?”

“There is no longer any reason for me to keep it. It was only natural.”

A hollow laugh escaped Vera.

Several questions had just been answered.

‘She faked her death of her own will.’

There was no need to ask why.

If this Saintess was truly the person Vera had heard of, the answer was plain enough from the tranquil expression on her face.

“Seems you grew tired of war.”

If the Saintess had remained in her rightful place after the Demon King's fall, the nations of the continent would have fought another war over her.

Why would they not? Her abilities were valuable enough to warrant it.

If the Saintess was truly as Vera had heard, she would have wanted to avoid such a situation. Erasing her own existence must have been the solution she chose.

As Vera continued thinking, the Saintess spoke.

Her tone had grown slightly subdued.

“...You know a great deal.”

“Are you going to kill me, then?”

Vera looked at the Saintess as he said it.

His body was in terrible condition. Even if the Saintess reached out and strangled him now, there would be no way to resist.

...Honestly, Vera would have had no regrets about dying here. He had lived a life deserving of death, and such a wretched end was well within expectation.

Vera closed his eyes, expecting the Saintess's hand to reach for his throat.

Then...

“There is no reason to kill you.”

Vera's brow furrowed slightly at her words, and he opened his eyes.

The Saintess still wore the same peaceful expression.

“Why not?”

“Why do you think I would kill you?”

“Isn't it troublesome to have someone who knows who you are?”

“I only ask that you keep quiet.”

“What if I start spreading the word?”

“That would be unfortunate.”

Her answer flowed as smoothly as water.

Vera studied the Saintess's expression again, trying to understand her intent, but nothing could be read from a face melted by burns.

The silence continued. When Vera gave no answer for a long while, the Saintess let out a soft breath and continued.

“For now, please rest. You are badly injured.”

“Do you know who I am, treating me?”

“Must I?”

“Perhaps. What if the person you treated is a murderous butcher?”

“Then that would be deeply unfortunate. But I do not have the courage to turn away from someone in pain. All I can do is pray that you are not a butcher.”

Vera let out another hollow laugh at the sight of the Saintess leaning against one wall of the shack.

Still resting against the wall, she drew the rosary from her robes, gripped it tightly, and closed her eyes.

She looked as though she were praying.

For no reason, the sight made something twist inside Vera. He spoke in a mocking tone.

“You are truly devout, Saintess.”

“...Rene.”

“What?”

“I am Rene, not the Saintess.”

After agreeing with everything until then, her only objection was to correct her name.

Vera closed his eyes, thinking that the Saintess was a truly strange person.

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