FSFSLU 8

Chapter 8

Isabel looked like someone who had found a strange joy in measuring other people’s waists with her own body.

In other words, she hugged everyone she came across.

“Jeremy! Thanks for everything. Don’t die, live well!”

“Rina, don’t you dare die! We have to meet again!”

“Father Graham! Don’t you dare die until I come back!”

Right before the departure for the Holy Pilgrimage, Isabel hugged every acquaintance — or anyone who knew her — while giving them unnerving farewells.

Don’t die.

That was what Isabel had always wanted to tell them even before she regressed.

That’s why she didn’t leave those words out of a single farewell.

After her noisy round of farewells, Isabel immediately headed for the auxiliary bishop’s office.

All that remained was to meet Susanna. Once she did, Isabel would complete the Holy Pilgrim’s Oath, receive her supply pack, and walk down from Zeroprime’s high hill.

She hummed a tune, her steps light. Maybe it was because today was the day of her journey.

But then, Isabel stopped in her tracks.

“Sister!”

According to plan, Susanna should have been waiting in the auxiliary bishop’s office. The oath and the handover of supplies were both supposed to be conducted there, so Susanna had told Isabel the night before to come to her office after saying goodbye to her friends.

So when Susanna appeared in the hallway instead, Isabel was quietly surprised.

Susanna welcomed Isabel, who came running over, with a calm smile around her wrinkled lips.

“Did you come to meet me?”

“At a time like this, it’s more proper to say I came to see you off, Sister Isabel.”

She accepted Isabel’s shocked expression as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Isabel, I have good news.”

“Good news?”

“Originally, I was to conduct your Holy Pilgrimage oath and handover of supplies, but this time, the Bishop himself said he wished to see you off. Go to the chapel right away.”

“Huh? The Bishop himself?”

Isabel broke into a bright grin and dashed down the hall.

Even though she had been told so many times not to run in the hallways.

“……”

Susanna quietly watched her vanish, sighed, and then slowly followed in the same direction.

Her business was already done. She had only come to tell Isabel to go to the chapel, so technically she could just return to her office now.

Susanna had watched Isabel for a long time. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t have predicted how the girl would act.

Still, from the convent days to their time in Zeroprime, she had spent years with Isabel. And now, Isabel had been chosen by an angel and was even leaving for the Holy Pilgrimage.

For someone who regarded Isabel almost like a daughter, Susanna couldn’t help feeling both worried at Isabel’s carefree attitude—

—yet also unaccountably disappointed.

It’s Isabel, after all. I must have expected too much.

So she consoled herself and walked on.

But then—

Far ahead, Isabel suddenly stopped, then turned and ran straight back toward Susanna.

“Sister! Ah, Auxiliary Bishop…!”

Bursting with excitement, Isabel threw her arms around Susanna’s waist.

“Sisteeer!”

Susanna looked down at her in surprise.

And Isabel looked up with a huge grin.

“Thank you, thank you so much for everything! From the convent days until now! Please, never die! We have to meet again!”

“……”

There had been nights Susanna stayed awake worrying, How on earth do I turn this wild child into a proper person? And even if she succeeded, she knew she would likely never be repaid.

It is rare for a teacher’s efforts to be repaid by a student, and with Isabel, it was even less likely.

But here was Isabel, smiling so brightly and expressing gratitude from all the way back in the convent days…

For the first time, Susanna felt a sense of reward.

She let out a small laugh, pulled Isabel into a deep embrace, and whispered:

“Don’t run in the halls.”

“Ah!”

She felt Isabel’s body shiver in alarm, and then let her go.

And she simply stood watching Isabel’s light steps as the girl walked toward the chapel.

For a priest, what is the Church?

It is the house of God, a place of reverence and solemnity. The Adventurers’ Guild calls it the “Cleric Dispatch Station,” and the Magi of the Tower call it a “Breeding Ground for Rivals.”

But of all the names, Susanna felt the most fitting one was “The Priests’ Home.”

The journey of carrying out God’s will is never easy. Protecting people from monsters, healing the injured, crafting tools infused with blessings — none of these tasks are simple.

Thus, for priests, the Church is like a home — a place where God’s agents can pause their journey and rest.

And so, for the young lamb now leaving that home for the world, Susanna didn’t wish to leave her with any special words.

The Church, and Susanna herself, would treat Isabel as always. She wanted Isabel to know she could return whenever she wished.

That was what she truly wanted to say.

Isabel stepped into the chapel.

On the clean stone floor stood neat rows of polished pews. Stained glass windows lined the walls, and a towering cross rose as if to touch the ceiling hand-carved and lacquered by a master craftsman.

“Welcome, Isabel.”

The Bishop of Zeroprime, Patrick — who had been away on travels for some time — greeted her in the middle of the chapel with a gentle smile.

Tall, broad-shouldered, the way Patrick turned toward Isabel was like a bear turning to face a rabbit.

Isabel swallowed hard.

Not that she was scared, but it was rare for her to feel nervous like this.

It was natural. After all, Auxiliary Bishop Susanna — the person Isabel feared most — was herself powerless before Patrick.

And every time Isabel thought of him, one memory always came to her.

“Bishop… did you also… pass away?”

“Yes, Isabel.”

Before Isabel regressed—

At the end of the Undead Parade, when morning sunlight stretched endlessly across the horizon, in the ruins of Zeroprime, Isabel received Patrick’s legacy from the hero Marcel.

The Angelos Rod.

A staff traditionally passed down to Zeroprime’s bishops, the highest-tier artifact amplifying its wielder’s holy power.

After receiving it, Isabel had knelt and wept.

“Bishop…”

In her first life, Isabel had barely met Patrick. At most, she had seen him a few times before the Undead Parade.

But she knew better than anyone how revered Patrick was by priests, and how much Susanna relied on him.

And he too had died. Like all the other priests of Zeroprime.

So Isabel had wept and vowed:

That she would do good in this world in the place of all the priests who had lost their lives that day.

That this was why the goddess Sunia had marked her with the Sacred Stigma.

“Bishop Patrick…”

And now, having rewound time and standing face-to-face with him, Isabel was overwhelmed by a mix of nervousness and exhilaration.

“Your expression is amusing, Sister Isabel. You must be very excited.”

Patrick smiled warmly. Isabel, at a loss, just giggled.

“I’m excited!”

“When I first set out on my Holy Pilgrimage, I felt the same.”

“You went on one too, Bishop?”

“I wandered through Opalland alone, saw and learned many things. Without those experiences, Patrick of Zeroprime could never have become Bishop.”

Patrick smiled and extended his right hand.

“Before the oath, let’s have a handshake. I will pray to Lady Sunia for your safe journey.”

It was a natural, unhesitant gesture. Isabel smiled and started to raise her hand.

But then—

[Quest Generated.]

[Decline the handshake naturally. (0/1)]

Isabel froze.

She blinked, but the text was still there.

There was no doubt. The quest was telling her to refuse Patrick’s handshake.

“Lord Sumiel? But why…”

Drenched in sweat, I sat on the playground swing, deep in reflection.

On the day Isabel put a barrier over the whole church, I had overheard priests whispering beyond the door.

And so I learned that Bishop Patrick was away on a trip.

Since Isabel would soon leave for her pilgrimage, I thought she’d never even meet him. That had been reassuring.

But to think it would come to this…

The esteemed Bishop of Zeroprime, Patrick Hanemas.

But his true identity was that of a spy for the Demon King’s army — and a fervent worshipper of the Demon King.

“I wandered through Opalland alone, saw and learned many things. Without those experiences, Patrick of Zeroprime could never have become Bishop.”

He said he had seen and learned much? Not untrue.

At age twenty, Patrick left on his Holy Pilgrimage. By chance, he encountered remnants of the Demon King’s army waiting for their master’s resurrection.

They were guarding the cocoon of the Demon King, who would one day awaken.

Patrick touched that cocoon as if bewitched, and was soon enthralled by it.

In the end, he willingly joined the Demon King’s army and swore to act as a spy within the Church of the Main God. And eventually, he rose all the way to the bishop’s seat.

Of course, Patrick’s faith in the goddess was real. Without genuine devotion, he could never have surpassed countless other priests to become Zeroprime’s bishop.

But that massive faith had been cultivated to suppress an even greater madness: his fanatic worship of the Demon King.

He hypnotized himself. To hide that he was a spy, he had to believe in the goddess more fervently than anyone.

He sought to love the goddess as much as he loved the Demon King.

Only then could he conceal his obsession.

Faith born of escape is still faith. Many priests turn to God because they cannot endure the pains of this world. That does not make their devotion false.

Patrick’s faith was the same.

“Unbelievable…”

“The seeds of evil had already been sown. On the day the Demon King awoke from his blood-red cocoon, those seeds sprouted and bloomed. The flower of evil scattered terror. Death could not resist its sweet fragrance.”

That was how <The Old Tales> described the scene where the Demon King’s spies, long hidden in society, revealed themselves all at once.

Powerful supporting characters of the Old Tales — like Galton the Wall Knight, Oxir the Tower Master, and Sinawi the Dancer — were killed by disguised spies or betrayed into enemy hands once the Demon King’s forces launched their full assault.

That is why Isabel’s identity as a regressor must never be revealed. Without any way to distinguish spies hiding in plain sight, if they knew Isabel was a regressor, she would certainly be targeted.

Of course, not even most spies knew when the Demon King would resurrect. Aside from a rare few, they weren’t even aware that the resurrection was underway.

So they did not act openly. They merely lived out their false identities, waiting for the day the Demon King would rise.

Even so, they prepared quietly.

Some stockpiled weapons and armor to supply the Demon King’s army. Others dug underground tunnels for them to use. Still others sought after cursed blades.

Not all of them truly believed in the Demon King’s return. But they carried out their missions mechanically, if only to claim credit should the Demon King someday awaken.

Patrick was no different. As Bishop of Zeroprime, he too carried out his task mechanically.

His mission was to plant bombs within the bodies of talented priests who passed through Zeroprime.

But Isabel didn’t know this. Even after living through the first cycle, she had no idea Patrick was a spy.

Naturally.

Because Marcel, who executed Patrick, had kept that truth hidden.