The Saint Wants to Rest - vanish into fiction

Scratch, scratch.

Only the sound of a ballpoint pen scratching across paper filled the quiet living room of the pension. However, even that did not last long.

Ian closed the notebook he had placed on his lap. The lingering feeling of the simple bucket list he had been giggling over while writing just moments ago still remained at his fingertips. Yet, the expression on Ian’s face as he closed the notebook was not just calm; it was sunken to the point of being chilly.

‘I might be able to rest peacefully like this for right now.’

He knew better than anyone that life—especially the fate of one who wore the heavy shackles of a “Saint”—was not that easy. The beautiful mountain scenery of Gangwon Province visible through the window was agonizingly peaceful, but Ian felt it instinctively. This silence was merely the suffocating stillness before the storm arrived.

The Gates would open again, people would get hurt, and the world would once more seek a savior. When that time came, this sweet respite would be over.

“I’ll pass on that.”

Ian shook his head and buried himself deep into the sofa.

To truly complete a “honey-sucking life,” simply running away was not enough. He had to change the system itself.

‘The problem is that only Vermouth and I are priests.’

The supply is two, but the demand is the world’s population of seven billion. It was only natural for the system to overload. If so, the solution was simple. He just had to increase the supply.

Ian closed his eyes and delved into his inner world out of habit. He submerged his consciousness inward, into an even deeper abyss.

Awakened ones on Earth create an organ called a “core” near their hearts to accumulate mana from the atmosphere. However, in Ian’s body, there existed a core that received and emitted divine power. Right now, that core was as hollow as a dried-up well, but Ian found an incredibly minute sensation within that emptiness.

Zing— ziing—

Like Morse code being sent from a very far distance, he felt a tickling vibration in the empty circuits.

‘…As I thought.’

His intuition had not been wrong. A being he had shared his soul with for five years. The voice of the Goddess, which he thought had been disconnected while crossing dimensions, was still reaching him through a passage as thin as a hairline crack.

‘Regnasia.’

Ian called that name internally. Because his divine power was at rock bottom, he couldn’t manifest the Goddess immediately or open the window of conversation wide like before. However, he could be certain. This passage had not closed. It had simply narrowed for a moment.

‘If I can reach Regnasia from here, on Earth, as well.’

Ian’s mind began to spin rapidly.

Earth was overflowing with awakened ones who used mana, but there were no priests who handled divine power. What if he found those with potential, mediated their connection with the Goddess, and made it so they could use divine power?

However, there was one problem. The source of divine power was “faith.”

‘Should I use desperate people? Families of terminally ill patients, or people pushed to the edge of a cliff. Such people would have a more blind faith than anyone else.’

Ian thought for a moment, then shook his head violently.

“No, that’s not right.”

He didn’t think forcing faith by using the misfortune of others as collateral was something a human should do, even if they weren’t a Saint. Ian did not want to forcibly impose the heavy sense of duty he had experienced for five years onto others, nor did he want to exploit their pain.

‘What I want are comrades who can share the burden with me.’

If so, there was only one way.

To show that this power was not the exclusive property of someone special, but “something you can do too” if you just set your mind to it.

“I have to show them. A clear performance.”

Ian opened his notebook again. He flipped past the front page where the bucket list was written and pressed his pen down firmly on the empty back page.

[ Future Plan: National Healer Cultivation Project (Subtitle: You Can Do It Too) ]

The corners of Ian’s mouth curved upward softly.

“First… I’ll have to set the stage on a grand scale.”

Humming to himself, he began to write down the detailed strategy in his notebook.

Target:

People who wanted to help someone but were frustrated because they lacked power. (Ordinary people who did not receive a mana suitability rating, or those who failed to awaken. Show them new possibilities.)

Strategy:

A large-scale performance. Declare, ‘This is not a miracle. It is a reality that your faith can create.’

Name of the Religious Order:

The Order of Regnasia?

Ian’s hand hesitated mid-write.

He stared intently at the four syllables of ‘Regnasia’ and then scratched his head vigorously.

“…Ah, but the Goddess’s name is a bit of a problem.”

It was a noble and holy name on the continent of Lancia, but this was South Korea.

Whether it was someone asking “Do you know the Truth?” on the street or someone asking “Do you believe in Lady Regnasia?”, in the eyes of ordinary people, they were one and the same—no, actually, it might look even more suspicious because of the nuance of the name.