The Saint Wants to Rest - vanish into fiction

“It sounds like the name of a multi-level marketing dormitory hidden away in some Gangnam studio apartment.”

Ian furrowed his brow. No matter how good the contents are, if the packaging is poor, it won’t sell.

“It’s not like I can change the Goddess’s name, either. Should I call it the ‘Church of the Light Goddess’? No, that sounds even more like a cult. Should I just name it in English to make it look sophisticated?”

Ian giggled to himself and shook his head. It was a concern that might cause the Goddess to strike him with lightning for blasphemy if she heard it, but what could he do? Localization is the basis of adapting to a new environment.

“I’ll worry about the name later.”

Ian grinned and filled in the next line.

1. Supporters:

For this massive show, money and martial force are required.

-Funding & Planning: The older brothers.

-Security & Hype Man: Holy Knight Vermouth. (Just having him stand there will increase credibility. And he’s a living witness who can testify that my words are true.)

“Good, I can just ask the brothers and Vermouth to help.”

Ian closed his notebook with a satisfied look.

Even if the name sounded a bit like a cult, the purpose behind it was righteous. It was to increase the number of clergy to counter the demon race.

Ian’s eyes sparkled as he planned a perfect future where he could finally rest.

***

At the same time. In the building next door within the pension complex, the ‘Pine Wind Wing.’

Choi Jae-heon was pressed tightly against the window in the dark living room with the lights off. A pair of high-performance military binoculars was in his hands, and his gaze was fixed on the living room window of the main building where Ian was staying.

“…Hey, Vermouth. You’re seeing this too, right?”

Choi Jae-heon’s voice trembled.

“Yes, I am watching.”

Standing like a shadow in the darkness in a corner of the room, Vermouth replied in a low voice.

“Ian smiled. While writing something in his notebook, he smiled with a very gratified and determined expression. Did the things he wants to eat increase? Does he want a late-night snack? Ah, I’m going crazy. I want to go and ask him right now.”

Choi Jae-heon fidgeted and stamped his feet. To think that the leader of Stigma, South Korea’s largest guild, was hiding like a stray cat in a mountain pension in Gangwon Province, worrying about his younger brother’s late-night snack menu. Furthermore, as this lifestyle continued, he felt like he had become closer to Vermouth than at the start. It likely stemmed from the shared feeling of being unable to have Ian by their side right now.

“Calm down. If we move rashly and get caught by Lord Ian, we are finished,” Vermouth pointed out coldly.

However, he was not entirely calm either. Vermouth’s blue eyes stared intently in the direction where Ian was. The sensitive senses of a knight were seeing something Choi Jae-heon could not.

‘Just now, it was only for a split second, but…’

In that brief moment when Ian had opened his notebook and closed his eyes, the air around the main building had twisted strangely. A wave, completely different from mana and far more high-dimensional and holy, spread out as if washing the space before vanishing.

‘That was divine power. He said he couldn’t use his strength, so how?’

Vermouth’s brow narrowed. It seemed Ian wasn’t simply resting. Something—he was definitely drawing a grand picture inside that small head of his.

The two men were putting their heads together intensely for the sake of Ian’s perfect vacation. But contrary to their wishes, this peace was destined not to last very long.

***

On the other side of the globe, in the middle of the Nevada desert in the United States.

A large man stood upon the wasteland where hot sandstorms whirled.

Alexander Gray , the guild leader of the strongest guild in the U.S., the ‘Empire Guild.’

Slung lightly over his shoulder was a massive, heavy black hammer that would be a struggle for even two adult men to carry. A lord of destruction who crushed battlefields based on overwhelming physical ability. That was Alexander’s moniker.

“…It’s gone,” Alexander muttered as he took off his sunglasses. Before him was nothing but empty desert.

Recently, a string of strange reports had been coming in from the Empire Guild’s jurisdiction. When they were dispatched to a scene after detecting signs of a Gate occurrence, the Gate would already be gone without a trace.

‘Gates do not close naturally.’

Either a Dungeon Break had to occur with monsters pouring out, or a Hunter had to go in and kill the boss. A Gate that opened and closed without a word or rumor was theoretically impossible.

Alexander had been personally touring the sites for several days, chasing this ghost-like phenomenon. The coordinates this time were the same. A B-grade scale Gate pulse had definitely been detected, but the site was clean. As if someone had erased it with an eraser.