30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

26 – 7. The Saint and the Woodcutter (4)

*

After causing quite a disturbance, the wealthy foreign sponsor, who seemed suspiciously rich, finally moved onto the main topic after hearing that Ivan didn’t have a bedroom.

The saint calmly listened to Ivan’s story (mostly narrated by Enrique). She took a sip of tea.

At least one possessed within the university, perhaps three at most.

“That’s odd.”

“Huh?”

“Enrique, have you never heard? They say people pulled in only appear once or twice a century.”

“Oh, really?”

“How many are there right now?”

The saint placed her teacup down and folded her hands calmly.

Her eyes had now grown as profound as those of a high-ranking priest.

“Maximilian, the Devil, and Ivan. That’s three. There might be more elsewhere, but as far as I know, aside from them, maybe just one more person, or at most two.”

“Huh?”

“That was over twenty years ago.”

The time when the Devil appeared, when Maximilian appeared, and when Ivan appeared.

That was around twenty years ago. Not even a century, let alone a generation, had passed.

“The stories of the Devil and Maximilian have concluded. I don’t know what the outcome will be for Kirillc brother’s story, but it’s probably not far off. But what if different people emerge here again?”

“Huh? What’s the problem with that?”

“It’s not ordinary. I was the scribe for Maximilian, who was the ‘Drawn One.’ Therefore, I know all the ancient records of the cathedral about the ‘Drawn Ones.'”

A century has passed.

When they appear, they always make a mark somewhere.

Each creating their own narrative, passionately.

After concluding the stories of that era and vanishing, time passes, and others are drawn, turning a new page.

So, this is the era when the Demon King has died, and all nations are quiet.

Why would a new Incarnate appear?

Even though, since the war with the Demon King, only a few nations with intact military strength, and minor conflicts related to colonial expansion, are on the verge of danger.

It’s still too early. The world is too desolate to face another war. No country has the resources to engage in a full-scale battle.

Even if the Demon King were to reappear, would it be a problem? Most adventurer parties are still intact, and nations have already prepared to restrain ‘powerful individuals.’

Besides, the demons have been scattered as a race, either enslaved or driven out of the world. Only remnants remain in distant lands. They no longer have the strength to continue the war.

“How many are suspected?”

“Three.”

“The nationalities?”

“Two from Krasilov and one from Calion.”

“One elf and two humans.”

The saint clenched her fist and fell into thought for a moment.

“Were all three students?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing has been verified yet?”

“No.”

“Then we should verify.”

The saint nodded more willingly than expected. Since there had never been a smooth case when the word ‘verification’ came out of the mouth of a believer, Ivan wondered if she intended to conduct an inquisition.

“Among those suspected, truly select the ‘Drawn One.’ Find out what stories these children were drawn into. After that, we can learn what stories remain in our era, right?”

After the stories of the Demon King and Maximilian have ended, what stories could the Incarnates achieve in this world? What stories led them?

Connect those threads to prepare for the future. That was the plan of the saint.

Of course, this world is not like a plot from a game or novel. Whatever stories they experienced in a ‘different world,’ imaginary creations cannot influence the flow of this world.

But people are different. Characters influenced by that ‘story’ are different. What sentiments the Incarnate harbored, what plans the Incarnate intends to carry out. At least that would undoubtedly have an impact on this world.

Just like the Demon King, the hero, and the numerous Incarnates before them. The Incarnate will inevitably create events, turmoil, and history.

The saint nodded and buried herself in the sofa. After taking another sip of tea, she suddenly threw this question.

“So, Kirilts brothers. What was your story?”

“I don’t know.”

“…What? Well, no matter how long it’s been… Did you ever have a compelling sense of purpose, or feel a sense of destiny, or something like that in your story?”

There must have been at least one… Most reincarnators usually have something like that.

Ivan, hesitating in response to the saint’s question, opened his mouth heavily.

“There were too many.”

“Too many…?”

Kim Sunwoo left malicious comments on a total of 8 games, 11 webtoons, and around 30 web novels during his lifetime.

Regardless of the genre, just if he liked it.

Ivan explained it carefully. There’s a myth in our world that says, ‘If you blame the author, you can be reincarnated.’ So, the stubborn Kim Sunwoo criticized all kinds of works according to that myth… like [Thanksgiving Punch with 5,700 Characters].

After hearing his calm retrospective, Enrique avoided eye contact, and the saint lost her words for a moment.

“Repent, brother.”

The saint firmly held Ivan’s hand and infused divine power into him. It was warm. Enough to make a corner of his heart sting.

*

March, the season when flowers bloom and the spring breeze tickles the chest.

Evgeny, Eugene, was sweeping his black hair aside while reading the Bible. The damn Bible study time was approaching.

A theology department and a main hall built to mimic the cathedral. Sitting on a bench under the green trees and reading a book was a picturesque scene in itself.

Eugene, who threw the sparks of corruption into the hearts of many prospective nuns, suddenly stopped his hand when he saw a shining notification in the corner of his vision.

“Huh?”

[Warning!]

[Warning!]

[Warning!]

“What, what, what is this! What’s suddenly happening again!! Don’t mess around!”

He reflexively crouched, looking around. No one was there.

Again. Again. This damn status window was muttering to itself, not explaining anything!

As he was thinking about it, the warning message popped up. This time, surprisingly, it started ‘Situation Explanation.’

“What the…?”

[Warning!]

[Survival Instinct Level 3]

[Stand up and walk forward right now.]

[Don’t look back.]

[Act naturally.]

[Even if someone calls you….]

Regardless of what it was, he had to get out of there. The status window, though unfriendly to the point of being practically useless, at least didn’t lie.

This time, it seemed to be a Neapolitan ghost story. He stood up, clutching his forehead, and started walking naturally.

Surely the work he possessed was “[Northern Grand Duke Sword Genius Scoundrel],” a title reminiscent of the Holy Roman Empire….

Not the Northern Grand Duke, not a sword genius, and certainly not a scoundrel!

He bit his lip in frustration. This was more like SCP… or whatever, closer to a cosmic horror universe.

At least this damn status window… no, the f***ing status window. From now on, your name is F***ing Status Window.

Eugene ground his teeth, trying to maintain composure. Calmly, with a serene face, he concealed his trembling hands in his sleeves and stepped forward.

“Eugene.”

“Yeah?”

Naturally, effortlessly.

Eugene, murmuring to himself, suddenly turned his head at the sound of his name being called from behind.

At least, he had to maintain the reputation of an academy work. A warm and sincere smile.

“Indeed, I guessed right. You’re Eugene. China, Japan, Korea. Where are you from?”

“!!!!!”

Behind a tree, a murderous Santa Claus was watching him.

Eugene, flashing a warning window like crazy, slowly and cautiously turned his head as if trying not to attract attention.

“Mmm~ yeah. Ah, the weather is really nice.”

Not because he called, just as if he was stretching…. He kept glancing to see if there were any other warning messages, if the damn status window was trying another descriptive trick.

-Thud.

A strong hand rested on Eugene’s shoulder.

Ivan looked into his eyes thoughtfully. The gaze handling was awkward. It wasn’t just a reaction of surprise or fear.

Clearly, it was a gaze conscious of something. Of course, there was nothing in the direction the kid was looking.

Then the most reasonable inference is that there is ‘something only this guy can see.’

“What do you see?”

He didn’t know if there were any perks for possessors. At least, he had never received such a thing.

Did Maximilian also have some special talent? That couldn’t be known.

However, if that’s the case.

If there is something special about the ‘Possessor,’ based on Kim Sunwoo’s ‘common sense,’ it is possible to make some reasonable inferences.

Status window, attribute window, or something similar.

It’s that thing that often appears in early-game possession stories. A private, convenient blue display augmented reality screen visible only to oneself.

What he had been hoping for might be visible through the eyes of this little one.

On the other hand, as soon as Ivan spoke, Eugene thought reflexively.

The monster in front of him is definitely a different ‘Possessor.’ Probably of Korean origin.

Damn it. A double protagonist…? That’s a shortcut to failure. Isn’t it too old-school?

Eugene tried to appear as ordinary as possible. If it’s another Possessor who has lived in this world longer than I have, is the likelihood of being friendly higher, or is the likelihood of being hostile higher?

At least this guy, upon recognizing him, had a history of throwing a stone full of malice. That means he is a preemptive monster.

Eugene’s head spun. He recalled the first quest.

Assassinate Ivan Petrovich, or conceal information, or persuade.

Failure means death.

“Uh, um, who are you…? Do you know who I am…?”

“I intend to find out from now on.”

“If you keep doing this, the department head won’t just, won’t stay still….”

“It’s a matter sanctioned by Saint Patricia.”

With the sound of the once scarce faith shattering into pieces, Eugene was led away by Ivan.

[Warning -Canceled-]

[Survival Instinct lv.3]

[Stand up and walk forward immediately. -Canceled-]

[Do not look back. -Canceled-]

[Act naturally. -Canceled-]

[Do not answer if someone calls you. He is not an ally. -Canceled-]

[Leave with the gardener. Do not resist. He is your ally.]

Usually, when such phrases appear in Neapolitan ghost stories, it means you won’t survive, right?

Eugene stared blankly at the status window, thinking.

It was a pleasant March with a warm spring breeze.

*

Gazing down at the peaceful landscape of the correctional facility, the saint quietly drew her sword.

The Possessed.

A possessor who had suffered alone for thirty years.

Unaware of her own story, lost in her goals. A possessor who vanished as a supporting character in someone else’s story.

She prayed as she watched Ivan’s departing figure.

For the rough lumberjack to find a purpose in life now.

So that, in the end, even a handful of happiness would remain in his hands.

“The student needed for the ‘Special Class’ schedule… was it Oswald, a first-year student in the Department of Magic?”

“Yes, that was the name. Is there a problem?”

“Well… there’s nothing to call a problem. The child himself is a very diligent and talented student, but…”

The head of the Department of Magic gave a strange expression and glanced at the saint.

He was an elf from the Calion military territory. Until just before the start of the semester, he was a renowned magician active in Calion.

Elves are scarce in population. Compared to humans, they are significantly lacking. Therefore, most descendants of noble families know each other very well.

He was no exception. If the student mentioned by the saint was studying abroad in Manlita and was even considered a likely candidate for the Calion military territory, then he must be from a prominent family. Therefore, he could easily recall the personal details of the student mentioned by the saint.

Oswald Eastbellpen. The son of a prestigious Calion magical family, a prominent figure and the current son of the clandestine council. Diligent, intelligent, thoughtful, and talented, a young noble.

Although there were a few minor issues, it meant a promising young man.

The minor issues here were…

“He’s a bit… eccentric.”

“Eccentric, you say?”

“He was engaged to the daughter of the clandestine council’s chief, but they broke it off not long ago. But… um.”

How to explain this.

Head of the Department of Magic, Ernbert wiped his sweat and sighed.

Elves are nearly flawless in most cases, but the jealous god left them with one flaw.

Their flaw is ‘obsession.’ (It’s not arrogance; for elves, it’s natural.)

Obsession with success, obsession with honor, obsession with knowledge. The types are diverse, but in this case…

Evelyn Rustpitz, the daughter of the clandestine council chief, was obsessively attached to Oswald to an extent that was strange.

*

“The Genius Sorcerer Obsessed by the Villain’s Daughter” was the worst novel of my life.

Damn it. Seriously. It was a curse. I even dropped it after 30 episodes and didn’t leave any negative comments or criticism.

I just cleanly withdrew. The author probably doesn’t even know me, the reader. But why.

Oswald ignored the sharp gaze he felt on the back of his head and looked up at the sky.

“Life, damn it.”

Ep7. The Saint and the Woodcutter