The monastery coughed us out— and the regressor—spitting us back into the world. The children, unaware that we’d just barely escaped death, were still playing happily in the fields. Azzy was rolling around with Lem’s hair completely wrapped around her. Lem let out a mournful bleat as her fur got tangled.
“Baa-aa—! Who brought this dog here?! If you brought it, take responsibilityyy!”
“Woof! I! Herd sheep! I’m responsible!”
“Biting doesn’t count as responsibilityyy! Let gooo!”
Lem, the King of Sheep. The ruler of sheep who follow their shepherd.
Sheep, in truth, are timid and dim-witted. That’s why, since ancient tis, humans have been able to herd hundreds of them with nothing but a wooden staff and a single dog. As long as they were led to a field full of food, sheep didn’t really care whether it was a human guiding them or a dog herding them.
That dumb image must’ve appealed to the clergy—sheep beca a staple symbol in holy communion.
I could’ve ignored her, but since we ran into each other, I figured I might as well greet her. It’s not like I’m on bad terms with the sheep.
“Sheep. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t you tellll? I’m being tornted by a doggg, human! Get this dog off ! Before all my fur gets ssed uppp!”
“Snore...”
“Get up, will youu! Your drool’s matting my furrr!”
Lem twisted her body, but couldn’t get Azzy off, who clung to her fur like glue.
Wolves are natural enemies of sheep. Dogs are their guides. Though they do the opposite of each other, both have one thing in common—they take sheep where they don’t want to go. Sheep and dogs have a strict hierarchy.
I peeled Azzy off and asked Lem,
“No, I an—why are you at the monastery? Not a lot of sheep live around here.”
“I ca to receive serviceee!”
Lem spoke as she tried to untangle the spot Azzy had licked.
“I have soft and fluffy fuuur! But when the wind blows, or it gets wet, or dirt sticks to it, my fur clumps up and feels so stuffyyy!”
She fiddled with her own fur. Even for a King of Beasts, she couldn’t groom all of it herself. With her tiny hands, she couldn’t even reach the full length of her white, thick hair that draped past her knees.
“So I go around looking for soone who’ll groom my fuuur!”
“You ca all the way here for soone to comb your fur?”
“Baa-aa! That’s right! The human children here have small and gentle hands, so they don’t hurt when they groom ee!”
“I’m sure you could get a decent brushing elsewhere too.”
“It’s not about skillll. What matters is the reverence they show ee! Other humans scrub and yank at , and they try to cut my fur, so I hate ittt!”
“Why? Why not just cut it?”
“I can’ttt! Humans try to yank my fur outtt!”
The King ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) of Sheep’s fur was soft but durable. As a conceptual being among the Kings of Beasts, her fur couldn’t be cut by ordinary ans. Try using scissors and they’d just chew up the strands.
Then the regressor chid in with a suggestion.
“Want to cut it for you?”
“Baa? Youuu?”
“Yeah. I think my Tianying can cut your fur.”
“Not a chanceee. Human blades can’t cut my fuuur. I’m a sheeep! I don’t like painnn!”
Lem rejected the regressor’s offer outright. But then, the children began gathering up tufts of wool that had fallen while brushing and handed them to the regressor.
“This is wool left by the Apostle of the Lamb.”
“If you can cut this, we’ll recognize your skill!”
“It’s not easy! We sotis try string gas with this stuff, but once it gets tangled, it’s impossible to untangle! That’s why we pile it all up behind the dorm!”
Innocent children, unaware of danger, approached the regressor without fear. A mont that proved fear is sothing learned. If it were instinctual, there’s no way they would’ve gone near soone with a face like the regressor’s.
Despite appearances, the regressor wasn’t soone who disliked children. She let the two kids hold the wool taut, then lightly unsheathed Tianying. Ting—the tuft of Lem’s fur was sliced with the softest whisper of a sound.
“Wow! It cut!”
“Amazing! We tried scissors and saws and nothing worked!”
“Okay! We’ll give you a chance to cut the Apostle of the Lamb’s fur!”
Chattering with excitent, the children turned to Lem, who responded dubiously,
“Baa-aa? You’re sureee? Fine, I’ll give you a chance to cut my furrr. But only one chance! If you pull it, I’ll ram youuu!”
Waddling over, Lem lifted her massive head of hair with both hands and offered it to the regressor. Faced with a mound of wool large enough to hide a person, she stayed perfectly calm.
I couldn’t help but feel uneasy and asked,
“Miss Shei, are you sure you can cut it?”
“Of course. You saw it earlier, right? Tianying can cut the King of Sheep’s fur.”
“No, I an—do you actually know how to cut hair? You don’t seem... handy.”
“What are you talking about? How do you think I’ve been keeping my hair tidy while traveling? I cut it myself, you know?”
“Ah, that explains your hair.”
“Want to shave you bald?”
“...Let’s just cut the fur. Lem’s waiting.”
Grumbling, the regressor compressed Tianying and heated it. The sword, now steaming with haze, glided softly through Lem’s hair.
Shff, shff. With a burst of qi, she grasped the fur and sliced diagonally with Tianying. Tufts of Lem’s fur fell in heaps. Each clump was larger than most people’s hair. Even after dozens of cuts, Lem’s fur showed no sign of ending.
The snowy white locks floated down like falling snow, capturing everyone’s attention. , Azzy, and the children all watched in silence.
As for Lem, the one receiving the service, she didn’t seem grateful at all. She fidgeted and said,
“Baa-aa. I’m bored. You guys, bring so grass to chew onnn.”
Acting like so noble lady. I wasn’t the only one who thought she was being spoiled—Azzy suddenly barked at her.
“Woof! Stop!”
“Baa-aack!”
“You can’t move! You’ll get hurt! You and the human both!”
“M-m-hh... Isn’t it okay to just chew so grass...”
Startled, Lem shrank back and folded her hands in her lap. Thanks to Azzy, the haircut went much more smoothly. After nearly an hour, the regressor used heated Tianying to curl the ends of Lem’s hair and brushed her hands off.
“Hm. How’s that? Not bad, right?”
Honestly, saying “not bad” would be underselling it. The regressor’s handiwork was impressive. Not only was the cut clean, but the curled finish at the end showed a sense of style and aesthetics you wouldn’t expect without practice.
Lem, once buried in ssy fur, now looked like a long-haired beauty. The children marveled at her transford appearance.
“Waaah! So pretty!”
“The Apostle of the Lamb looks so clean and pretty now!”
“I liked the fluffy version too, but this looks so much more comfortable!”
Lem herself didn’t seem particularly moved, and just glanced nervously at Azzy. You can’t really expect a sheep to have an eye for aesthetics. Maybe she just felt a little less stuffy, at best.
The regressor brushed the loose fur off with a proud voice.
“There. Done.”
“When did you learn to do this?”
“I told you. I’ve had to cut my own hair while traveling.”
‘I trimd it because I wanted to at least look human, you know. Thanks to the Seven-Colored Eye, I could even see the back of my own head.’
I thought she didn’t care about things like that... but I guess not. Considering the way she fussed over Manhanjeonseok and Rene’s pouch, she actually does keep herself and her surroundings pretty well maintained. Well, if you can manage it, taking care of yourself is always a good thing.
“And also, the Saintess’s blessing helped.”
“Huh? The Saintess’s blessing? What does that have to do with this?”
“Mm? You don’t know? It’s the Saintess’s blessing.”
“What does that even do? I don’t feel any special power or anything.”
“Hmph. So you don’t know everything after all? I an, when have you ever even received a blessing?”
Maybe it was the success of cutting all that wool that made her puff up a little—she was talking with a mildly smug tone now.
“Each Saintess’s blessing is different depending on their authority. The Iron Saintess gives you the strength to carry out your will. The Saintess of Causality gives you the insight to find what you’re looking for. The Saintess of the Sun illuminates the path ahead. And the Saintess of the Sky... she gives you luck.”
“Luck?”
“Yeah. Whatever you do goes smoothly, and even if obstacles pop up, a way around them appears. Opportunities just fall into your lap before you even realize it. Compared to the other Saintesses’ blessings, which are specific and limited, the blessing of the Saintess of the Sky is vague and wide-ranging. Like a goddess of fortune.”
Luck? What kind of luck. Sure, luck exists, but at the end of the day, it’s just a probability.
“Even today, look at what happened. It’s minor, but I managed to trim the King of Sheep’s wool without leaving a ss. I only learned how to do it by watching others—my technique isn’t that great. But it turned out well, thanks to the blessing.”
“There’s no way... cutting hair is just your own skill.”
“Hey now, just take the complint.”
“It’s not a complint. I’m saying it’s weird that you actually believe in the Saintess’s blessing. It’s not like a cult or anything. You really think sothing you did was thanks to a blessing?”
I can’t exactly say the Saintess’s blessing is powerless. They do have the ability to see the future, after all. But chalking up your own accomplishnts to a blessing? That’s even weirder.
“And think about it. If the blessing is so amazing, why would it help with sothing like trimming Lem’s fur? That’s just busywork.”
“You never know. Maybe this nicely cut wool will co in handy.”
“What are you going to use wool for, when you’re not even planning to make cloth with it...? And wasn’t the Saintess of the Sky’s command about defeating so ancient evil? No matter how valuable the wool is, it’s not going to stop an ancient evil. Who are you planning to give it to?”
“No harm in keeping it. And who knows? Might co in handy as a gift.”
“What? A gift? In this monastery where the stuff is literally everywhere?”
This place isn’t even touched by civilization. Even if you tried to sell it, no one would buy it. Are you planning to trade it with savages or sothing? Actually, that might work, but it’s not like they have anything worth trading back.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
And just then—
“Greetings! Is the sister here?!”
A loud voice bood across the monastery. Loud enough to startle the sheep, the children, even Lem.
In civilized lands, making a ruckus like that on soone else’s property would be considered an intrusion. But out here in the wilderness, things are different. Dogs that bark don’t bite, and real threats never make a sound. Making your presence known like that is actually a gesture of goodwill.
“A native,” I muttered.
Sister Yeghceria, once again wearing her veil, ca out to greet the towering figure with brown skin.
“Though all things under the sky are children of the Celestials, not every child is devout. I’ve heard the native tribes do not serve the Celestials, but rather the Earth Mother. As a servant of the Celestials, I welco all visitors—but may I ask if you wish to continue this conversation?”
The native tribes—undying people who absorbed clay into their bodies and beca similar in substance to earth. They were once the original inhabitants of all nations and now followed a faith centered around a corrupted version of the Earth Mother.
That’s also why there’s only one monastery in this vast barbaric land. In this land teeming with life, wild weeds can’t be uprooted even by the Celestial wind.
But this particular native seed more open-minded and greeted the sister with proper manners.
“Indeed! I ca here to et the sister!”
Yeghceria spread her arms wide in welco.
“You are most welco! Even in this distant land of heresy and savagery, the seed of faith brought on the wind can still take root! I, Yeghceria, sincerely welco your repentance!”
“Ha ha! I don’t really plan to convert to the Celestials!”
“That’s perfectly fine! The fact that you ca here at all is a most hopeful sign! How about reading the sacred text, for starters?”
“No, no, truly, I’m not here for that. I ca for, uh... what do you call it, a sacrant? That’s what I’m after!”
“A sacrant?”
“Yes. A marriage sacrant, I believe. In the northern countries, they say you receive the blessing of a priest when you wed, no? My bride is from afar, and I want to respect her customs.”
The undying man laughed heartily and explained himself. He’d brought his bride from a distant land, but their differing village customs had caused so tension. To smooth things over, he wanted to have their union blessed here at the so-called “Bloody Monastery.”
Sure, it was using a sacred rite for convenience, but Yeghceria didn’t care about sothing so trivial. On the contrary, she looked more delighted, clasping his hands in joy.
“Ah...! This must be true repentance born through love! I have yet to et the bride, but she must be a woman of sincere faith! Very well. I shall prepare everything to bless your sacred union whenever you are ready!”
“Much obliged! I’ve brought leather and at with , so, uh... what do you call it? An offering!”
“We gratefully accept your tithe!”
“And I hope it’s not too bold, but... could I get so kind of token that proves the sacrant will happen? I’d rather not return empty-handed.”
“But of course. As it happens...”
Yeghceria bead as she looked in our direction. The children who had been carefully bundling up Lem’s wool caught her gaze.
“We’ve just acquired so wool perfect to serve as a token.”
And in that mont, I felt it. A strange chill.
Discomfort, maybe? Like the sensation of gambling on a rigged board. As if the cards I would draw, the ones I could draw, had already been set. Like I was dancing to soone else’s steps.
The world was snapping into place. In the barbaric lands, wool and leather are daily essentials and treasures. They’re invaluable, irreplaceable resources. And wool from the King of Sheep? Beyond priceless. Just taking so back would earn you honor as a noble guest.
And now, suddenly, the perfect opportunity had appeared. Practically flaunted in front of .
No way, right? Just coincidence...?
...Or so I wanted to say.
“Hughes.”
“So you noticed too, Miss Shei?”
“Yeah. I get it. That undying man...”
The regressor and I both recognized who he was. Sothing about this didn’t feel random. And it didn’t feel like the Saintess’s blessing, either—it was... uncanny.
“Ho! Teacher! And young man! Long ti no see! What are the odds of eting here?!”
It was our fellow inmate from Tantalus—the undying man, Rash. He waved at us enthusiastically as he called out.
Reviews
All reviews (0)