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chapter 20
“The oracle was brief and concise. It said that the fate of this world depends on seeing you atone. Honestly, it’s uncertain how the world will perish or how long the deity will wait, but there’s no other clear method.”
“So… we just have to face it head-on?”
How irresponsible! The ambassador shattered everyone’s hopes and expectations in an instant. The room fell silent as each person swallowed their own despair.
And just as the guilty sank deeper into their personal torment, a gentle, calm voice rose above the stillness. It was Angela who drew everyone’s attention.
“Um… what if we try confession?”
Angela smiled with a grace reminiscent of a saint from scripture. Indeed, her appearance alone lived up to her name—‘Angel’. While the idea wasn’t revolutionary, it was certainly worth trying.
“Indeed, Angela, a most wise and lady-like suggestion.”
“Quite reasonable. Well done, Angela.”
Her men praised her as if admiring a clever feat. Julian found their behavior irritating, but knowing there was no better solution at the moment, he said nothing.
Once this side’s opinion had coalesced, the ambassador, with an expression hard to read, lightly nodded. If they were to confess, he would be the one to receive it.
“A very intuitive approach. That too is acceptable.”
“Then may I be the first to confess?”
“Right now?”
Angela nodded with her angelic face. Her innocent-looking smile sent a strange chill down Julian’s spine—a foreboding feeling he couldn’t shake.
The parlor was cleared for the confession, and when everyone stood before the statue in the chapel, Julian still felt uneasy. Whenever Angela had made suggestions in the past, someone usually ended up in trouble.
‘Here we go again…’
Angela appeared in a pure white dress, as if she had transformed into a saint from myth rather than a sinner. Though the dress seemed simple at first glance, it was evidently worth a fortune. She knelt before the statue in the chapel.
The ambassador stood behind her, one hand holding a Bible, the other resting on Angela’s shoulder, and spoke calmly:
“Angela Reagan. You stand here today to confess your sins. Be honest before the deity. All is known to Him; confess your sins truthfully, without a single lie.”
“God, I am a sinner who has committed great sins.”
Angela began with the standard opening of confession, yet her expression was unusually solemn. She then glanced at Julian with watery eyes. Even without foresight, Julian could somehow predict what would happen next. Having watched her for years, he knew that this was the expression she wore when she planned to frame someone.
“I watched my friend spiral into jealousy and spite, and yet I could not save her.”
‘Oh, come on…’
Angela didn’t specify who she meant, but her eyes kept flicking toward Julian. Everyone present, of course, already knew who the ‘friend’ was, having been involved to some degree.
All eyes turned toward her, and Julian gave a faint, wry smile. After all, with a huge mark already branded on his forehead, it wasn’t as if she could fool him. Yet here she was, about to tell a lie that both she and he knew for the sake of embarrassment. It was reckless, even for a petty act.
“Angela!”
“It’s not your fault!”
Seeing her distressed, Theoron and Bilrod comforted her. But confession was a personal act—they could not intervene until she finished. Julian listened closely, not because he wanted to hear nonsense, but because he wondered if any feedback from the deity would occur before the statue.
“I was Julian’s closest friend. Yet I failed to stop his deviations, which eventually led him to commit an irreversible sin. I am a sinner. I ask the merciful deity for forgiveness.”
She didn’t hide the names in the end. If she wanted to, why bother the furtive glances in the first place?
When her brief confession ended, the chapel fell silent. Julian half-expected some supernatural reaction—lightning striking the statue or the deity’s wrath echoing—but nothing happened. He felt slightly deflated.
“Tsk.”
The only response came from the ambassador. Showing not a trace of reverence, he clicked his tongue in disapproval. Angela, hearing the sound, lifted her bowed head in surprise.
“You clicked your tongue? At me?”
“It seems you are gravely mistaken.”
Angela, whose gentle and lovable demeanor easily won favor, was visibly flustered. The ambassador, upon meeting her eyes, quickly replaced his scowl with a polite smile. Though everyone noticed, he seemed utterly unconcerned.
Paladins, the ambassador… perhaps divine power correlates with shamelessness, Julian thought.
“Your confession is directed toward humans, not the deity. Confession only brings forgiveness for sins committed in your heart. Sins committed against others should be confessed to them, not to God.”
“That’s—!”
A perfect answer. Angela, confronted with such a clear truth, was rendered speechless and lowered her head. Though her face was hidden, the redness in her ears betrayed her shame. Julian couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, prompting Angela to glare at him from an angle only she could see.
“Others are welcome to confess at any time. But do not fabricate false repentance or words just to escape a situation. God will know what you did in your heart, just as I do.”
“I didn’t mean it that way!”
“No, I am not blaming you. I only say this so you need not feel burdened. Birth is followed by death, and if the world ends as foretold, it too is part of divine will.”
Whether it was complacent or carefree, the ambassador seemed completely unbothered. Despite the warning that human civilization could perish if sinners did not repent, he acted as if he had somewhere to go, utterly unconcerned.
“The deity has given us perseverance to reach our goals, but also granted us the release of letting go. Do your best, but remember that giving up is also an option if all else fails.”
