No, How Can an Atheist Become a Saintess!?

No, How Can an Atheist Become a Saintess!? – 53

EP.53

Chapter 5

Belief and Reality (5)

How can one communicate when they don’t share a common language?

The usual approach involves investing a great deal of time to study and understand each other’s language. Historically, religion played a significant role in such efforts on Earth.

Missionaries aiming to convert those who didn’t believe in their god first had to learn the language of the people they sought to evangelize. In most cases, the isolated groups themselves had little interest in reaching out.

As a result, many missionaries from the past chose to immerse themselves in foreign lands, devoting their efforts to translating the Bible into the local languages.

But what happens when the other party might not have writing systems—or even a language to begin with?

And more pressingly, the Church was in no position to undertake such efforts right now. With its own foundational texts still incomplete, how could it possibly disseminate its scripture?

In this world, people came up with a much simpler solution.

“There’s a common emotion present in the ‘goblins’ that were captured.”

Han Yu-ri said, placing a report in front of her.

“Fear.”

Her expression was unusually serious as she continued.

“That emotion is fear.”

“Couldn’t that be because of me?”

I asked earnestly.

It wasn’t an unreasonable thought. After all, my power was capable of incinerating goblins en masse. Who wouldn’t feel terror at the sight of roaring flames consuming everything before them?

“It’s a much older fear than that,” she replied.

“You can tell something like that?”

“Magical energy leaves traces that can linger for quite a long time, even as time passes. If the target is a monster—though we can’t read their memories—we can discern intense emotions they felt in recent days. And if those emotions have persisted for an extended period without interruption…”

Han Yu-ri slid the report across the table toward me.

“This fear has been with them since long before they encountered you, Saintess.”

“……”

I opened the report. While I had learned enough about magic to have a basic understanding, fully grasping the intricate details of this professional analysis was beyond me. Thankfully, the conclusion, meticulously summarized in Han Yu-ri’s characteristic style, was clear.

“The goblins were driven south, fleeing from something.”

“Yes, that’s what we believe,” she said with a nod. “They came from the north—this group appears to be the vanguard.”

“And one more thing,” Han Yu-ri added, looking at me intently.

“Some of the goblins bore injuries caused by magical energy. It’s possible that this vanguard was carefully selected from among their kind.”

Monsters could indeed suffer harm from magical energy. It didn’t have to be something obvious like conjured ice spears or fireballs.

Humans drink water, but staying submerged for too long can kill them. They use fire to stay warm, yet excessive heat is fatal. They breathe oxygen, but inhaling pure oxygen at high concentrations is dangerous.

“…So, they were running from something even more dangerous,” I concluded.

“Yes, that’s our assessment as well.”

Han Yu-ri nodded solemnly.

I turned my gaze behind me.

There stood Ria, as if she were my bodyguard, observing everything in silence.

“……”

The overwhelming emotion I felt as I pieced together this summarized explanation was a singular, sharp question:

What in the world is going on here?

*

I started to piece together a few hypotheses.

The reason goblins never appeared in the original story might have been because they were treated just like any other monster and quickly disposed of. If so, there would have been no need to interpret the goblins’ “emotions.”

The original story did mention “gates that were closed because of danger.” However, it didn’t go into detail about the exact location of each gate. For all I knew, the gate connected to the goblins might have been the same one that unleashed the giant ape in the past—or it might not have been.

The Saintess saving Lee Si-yoon was described in the original, but that likely referred to the incident where Lee Si-yoon was brought to the Church, barely alive, or the following event involving the giant ape.

In the main plotline, the goblins probably continued moving south, eventually clashing with stationed hunters and being annihilated. What lay behind them, or why they were forced south, likely remained a mystery.

And the “object of fear” the goblins fled from—it might have been one of the dangers that appeared in the novel’s later chapters.

“……”

The hunters decided this was worth investigating.

Regardless of what the object of fear was, if it was indeed gradually approaching the gates—or even had the potential to do so—our side needed to assess whether it was something we could deal with. If not, simply sealing the gate might be the only option.

As night fell, I climbed to the rooftop of the building. A few hunters were there, too. Though they made eye contact with me, none approached. We merely exchanged slight nods of acknowledgment.

I walked over to the edge and peered down. Unlike the buildings in Hyehwa-dong, this one was small. But since there weren’t many lights nearby, the surrounding darkness made it seem oddly tall.

There was no picturesque garden here, like the one I had seen before. Still, the resting area was well-maintained.

As I stood there, Ria joined me.

She must have questions about what we heard earlier, but Ria didn’t say anything. She simply stood silently at my side, like a dutiful guard.

When I turned my head to stare at her, she finally broke into a bemused smile and spoke.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“…I feel like there’s something I want to say, but I’m not sure what it is.”

“Is that so?”

Ria shrugged lightly.

“Well, then I’ll wait.”

“You’ll wait?”

“Until you’re ready to talk.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm… no particular reason,” Ria replied, gazing at me steadily.

No particular reason.

A short laugh escaped me. Somehow, it sounded like something a friend would say. Friends often talked about nothing in particular, just for the sake of talking. Or maybe we already were friends.

“I’m not sure what I want to do,” I finally admitted.

“You don’t know what you want to do?”

“Yes.”

What did I want to do in this world?

Prove atheism? Prove that there was no god, and that the entity above was not a divine entity, thereby dismantling the government’s theocratic policies?

I didn’t think it was possible. While I didn’t like the idea of a theocratic state, I didn’t want to deny the value of religion entirely.

Sometimes, the existence of such beliefs gave people solace. It became a reason to live—or, though I hated to admit it, a reason for some to perform good deeds.

Focusing solely on the harm caused by something never solved anything. Even atheism wasn’t exempt from this. After all, there had been dictators who built their regimes on atheism, suppressing all religions indiscriminately.

I had no desire to create a world like that.

“Saving people, huh?”

“That’s… not something I do because I want to.”

It’s something I do because I feel I have to.

Helping someone was, in its own small way, a fulfilling experience. When even one person among those you helped smiled and thanked you, it made you feel like you’d made the right choice. It was satisfying.

But even so, work was still work. It was something I had to do—because it was the only way to prove my convictions. If I could help someone, I had to. Walking away with an excuse would just make me a hypocrite.

I couldn’t deny that I felt a certain compulsion to act that way.

Was that why that entity brought me to this world? To see if I would still act this way here?

“I have power, so if there’s an injured person right in front of me, I can’t just turn a blind eye. Not helping when I’m able to—that’s just… making excuses.”

“Is that so?”

Hearing my words, Ria turned her body, leaning her back against the railing as she looked up at the sky.

Her red hair fluttered in the breeze. Even though the building and its surroundings were dark, with few lights to illuminate the area, her fiery red hair stood out vividly.

The wind carried her hair, exposing the pale nape of her neck beneath it. I turned my gaze back to the view in front of me.

“From what I’ve seen of you so far,” Ria finally spoke, “you seem… the most alive when you’re running around like that.”

“…The most alive?”

“Yeah. Normally, you’re grumbling about how everything’s a hassle. You hate repetitive tasks, you nod off during prayers—yet when there’s someone to save, your eyes light up. You’re faster than me, already sprinting, pouring sweat.”

Ria’s gaze shifted to me.

“Even when you’re filled with worry, even when you’re scared you won’t succeed, you push those feelings aside like they don’t matter. You run as hard as you can to save someone. In those moments, it doesn’t look like you’re doing something you hate.”

She smiled.

“Not doing things you don’t want to do is your choice. But letting the things you hate stop you from doing the things you want to do… that’s a bit of a shame, isn’t it?”

“……”

Things I want to do.

Things I hate to do.

I don’t want to believe in God. I just can’t. The reason I’ve rejected this power so far, even while using it, is because of that.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help people. At the very least, I want to help those who are suffering right in front of me.

If there’s an accident happening—or about to happen—

“…Ah.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

When I pressed a hand to my forehead, Ria asked in mild alarm.

“It’s nothing. Sometimes I just feel this way. Maybe it’s stress.”

“……”

Anyway, that’s how it is. In such situations, I want to help. If my power could make a difference, I want to use it.

Up until now, those two feelings had been constantly clashing. I didn’t want to take on the heavy mantle of the Saintess. But—

—I didn’t want to see people die, either.

If things were going to unfold that way anyway…

“…You’re right,” I muttered.

“Don’t worry too much,” Ria said, looking at me.

“You’ve got your knight, don’t you? Wherever you go, you won’t be alone.”

“……”

Ria said it again, that same thing.

And, strangely, it made my heart flutter a little.

Well, that couldn’t be helped. When a beautiful woman said something like that, who wouldn’t feel the same?

I already knew Ria’s character from reading the novel.

Even if she had trouble being honest with herself, she was, without a doubt, a good person.

Her behavior now was likely just another way of making sure I didn’t feel alone.

After all, we’d been sharing a room for quite a while. And more importantly—

To be honest, I didn’t have any friends, did I?

There are some people in this world who just can’t leave a loner alone.

Ria happened to be one of those people.

Always so kind.

I turned my gaze back to the outside world.

The mountain, with no lights at all, was pitch black.

Only the faint glow of the gate, like a mercury-filled lake, flickered far off in the distance.