Chapter 81 – The Saintess (4)

Episode 81 The Saintess (4)

When Vikir first came to the barracks where only seriously ill patients were gathered, the priests’ reaction was as follows.

“This is no place for a layman.”

“You could be infected, get out now!”

“Help? We don’t need it, you’re in the way!”

But when Vikir began walking among the patients and blessing them, the priests’ expressions changed.

“That’s not how you bless.”

Vikir said to the priest who was using holy power on a red spot on a patient’s leg.

In general, a priest’s primary ability is to pray to a God to receive a share of his power and to use it to recreate some of the heavenly phenomena on earth.

In its simplest form, the priest asks the god to share his power, the god accepts and sends the power, and the priest receives the power to heal the patient.

If the patient also believes in the same God, the priest’s request for power from the God becomes a kind of guarantee, and the healing effect is amplified.

In short, more divine power is available to the same believer.

This is especially true if the priest or patient has a deep connection to the gods, such as through prolonged prayer or evangelizing.

This was similar to the correlation between a bank’s credit rating and lending.


Priests could only use divine power within certain limits.

How much piety you’ve had.

How celibate, how sacrificial, how much you prayed, how many times you said God’s name, how much you donated, how much you volunteered, and how long you’ve been devoted to God would limit the amount of holy power you could exert.

A priest with 1 divine power could perform 1 miracle, and a priest with 10 divine power could perform 10 miracles.

This was common sense.


Vikir knew.

How a priest with 1 holy power could perform 10 miracles, and a priest with 10 holy power could perform 100 miracles.

” …… There’s a concept known as short selling.”

It was a deceptive method discovered by priests in the Age of Destruction as they struggled to make up for their ever-increasing lack of divine power.

In commerce, short selling means “selling what you don’t have”.

In commerce, short selling means “selling something you don’t have,” which means that you don’t have it, but you sell it up front to get the money and then buy it back later to pay for it.

When the time of destruction came, many priests despaired in the face of the swarming demons and the even greater number of patients.

Their own divine powers were not enough to stop the catastrophe.

So the gods of the Rune religion, watching on, came up with a plan.

They drastically increased the amount of divine power available to priests who had performed well and consistently.

This allowed high-ranking priests to perform far more miracles than usual in times of crisis.

But even so, they still didn’t have enough holy power.

Demons and beasts that came out of the oil world literally devastated the human world.

The gods became even more desperate.

It was then that the priests began to awaken.

They began to unleash divine powers that would normally have been unthinkable.

Even their empty mana vessels were able to exert divine power.

Act first, report later. Let’s make a miracle and see what happens.

Any divine power that you have saved up in advance can be used later with interest to make up for it or recover it, but you should use all of it that you can draw from right away.

The journey of creating and using divine power and then repaying it through faithful activities.

Some call it ‘borrowing holy power’, some call it ‘shorting holy power’, and some self-helpfully call it ‘begging for holy power’.

Even those who weren’t priests and had killed a lot of demons were allowed to use some holy power, as it was a time when killing demons to earn karma (experience) was considered a religious activity.

Vikir had slain countless demons, and the karma had been accumulating nicely, stored in his soul.

This was true even after his regression.

As such, the current Vikir is the only one who can wield divine power without being a priest.

However, there was a slight limitation on the use of holy power without being a member of Rune: it could only be done within a sanctuary.

Where Vikir currently stood was the realm of the Faithful Quavadis, and thus a sanctuary.

Vikir walked over to the moaning man and reached out.


A weak stream of holy power began to heal the patient’s body.

The priests, wide-eyed at the sight of Vikir’s holy power, rushed over to watch.

It was the first time they had ever seen someone who was not a priest of House Quavadis use holy power.

Moreover, Vikir was a master at using holy power efficiently.

“That, too, I have learned from surviving the Age of Destruction.”

Priests treating a patient in a mad rush. Looking over their shoulders, Vikir learned how to use divine power.

It was simple, really.

A simple one, in fact: slit the wound with a scalpel and let the holy power seep straight through to the primary injury.

A great deal of divine power is wasted in performing miracles by laying on skin, holding hands, or casting blessings from afar.

Instead, it was most efficient to channel the divine power concentrated at the source of the pain.

Vikir took his scalpel and made small incisions in the reddened spots, channeling holy power through the flowing blood.

The sanctuary of the Quavadis was filled with grace, and Vikir was able to draw upon a significant amount of holy power.

Of course, since he was not a priest, he could not use it for long.

And the priests who had witnessed Vikir’s miracles and performances were beginning to flock to him one by one.

Survival skills that could be used by anyone in the Age of Destruction were considered unheard of and unrivaled here.


The priests’ surprise was not yet over.

Vikir has been delaying the spread of patients with a combination of all kinds of herbs he has picked from the waters of the Red and Black Mountains.

It was something he had learned from the warriors of Balak during the last two years of living in depth.

A medicine that would not stop the plague, but would delay its spread and suffering as long as possible.

Made from recipes and ingredients unknown to the empire, it reduced the fevers and groans of the patients, at least a little.

Like this. Vikir moved among the patients, taking in their filth and their complaints, and yet calmly and silently tending to them all.

This, of course, was done for a reason.

First, to give confidence to the priests of Quavadis, second, to take the essence of the holy water to his friends in faraway lands, and third, out of compassion for those who had died the red death because of him.


Everyone watched Vikir’s miracle with their mouths half open.


“Aaahhh- Mommy! Mommy!”

A child cries, shaking the body of a lying woman.

The woman’s body was still pale in color, though a few red spots had sprung up.

The problem was that her body was dangerously weak even in this state.

Vikir placed his hand on the child’s head.

“Don’t worry. I’ll cure your mother right away.”

After saying this, Vikir lifted the disease from the woman’s body.

He also grabbed a bunch of gold coins from his pocket and handed them to the child.

“Sickness is sickness, but you are malnourished. Use this to buy food and firewood to care for your mother.”

The child hangs his head in shame, his face covered in tears and snot.

Then, seeing the child receive the money, many sick people rushed to Vikir.

They, too, stretch out their hands for money.

One of the priests was puzzled and said to Vikir.

“No, no material help, there’s no limit, you’ll have to give them all the money you have!”

Vikir shrugged it off.

“Why shouldn’t there be a limit? There’s definitely a limit to the money in my pocket, and I’ll just have to give it all away.”

With that, Vikir distributed the money to the sick people around him and their families.

Vikir then discarded the empty leather pouch without a trace of regret and returned to his work.

The priests stood dumbfounded, shocked once more.

St. Dolores was one of them.


She gazed at Vikir’s broad back and remembered what had happened earlier.

The young men who had flirted with her.

They boasted of their noble status and vast wealth, showering the slums with donations and supplies.

But their demeanor was arrogant, and in their hearts they despised and looked down on the poor.

But what about Vikir? He didn’t hesitate to give away all the money in his pocket.

Though the amount was small, it was a great act of sharing and sacrifice.

This is why the Bible says that a beggar who gives a bowl of porridge may be more noble than a rich man who gives a thousand gold coins.

Dolores thought silently.

In a place where filth and pestilence reigned supreme, this man worked harder than anyone else to help the less fortunate.

A man who seems to have lived on the front lines of a fierce battle.

This man with the aura of a pilgrim, a seeker, a prophet.

This man has a sad, lonely soul that doesn’t match his strong body.

A man who calls himself a hound, but inside he is a lost and tired puppy.

This man is crying and bleeding with his soul.

……Where the hell does he come from?

Suddenly, Dolores remembered a line he had muttered in a hushed voice some time ago.

“Theology is essentially a process of understanding human beings, so this is inevitable.”

And then.

…a thud!

A throbbing pulse, a fast-flowing bloodstream.

My heart dropped to the bottom of my chest once, and then came back up again.

A saint, and a still young and immature sixteen-year-old girl.

Dolores’s heart was beating fast.

Toward the faceless man in front of him.