No, How Can an Atheist Become a Saintess!? – 103
EP.103 Stubbornness and Arrogance (15)
For a brief moment, I saw a silhouette.
There was so much I had wanted to say if I ever saw them for real.
Why did you send me to that world?
What did you hope to accomplish by sending me there?
Why me?
Ironically, by the time I found myself praying, I had already begun to grasp the answer.
Because I had to be there.
Because I had to be in that exact place, at that exact moment, to save those people.
If I had been the saintess from the novel, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.
People think in ways that are both similar and different. Even those with nearly identical personalities will have slight variations in thought, and those tiny differences can lead to vastly different outcomes.
If I had delayed even a single day—
If I had put off pretending to have visions for just a few more days—
It would have been too late.
—No.
But my own reasoning was soon denied.
—No matter how much others may see them as gods, even they cannot perceive the future in such detail.
Then why?
Surely, someone with a disposition similar to mine existed.
Someone even kinder than me.
Someone more selfless, more willing to sacrifice themselves.
—And that is precisely why it had to be you.
A voice answered.
—Because despite doubting everything, despite struggling to trust others, you would still act solely based on your own convictions.
“…You’re giving me far too much credit.”
I muttered under my breath.
“I only did it because I wanted to argue with whatever judge was watching over me.”
My parents had been deeply religious when I was young.
Back then, I accepted it as normal.
It wasn’t until I grew older that I realized I was different from my friends.
There were places I had to go regularly.
I had to pray, had to study.
There were so many things I wasn’t allowed to do.
Because they were violent. Because they were inappropriate.
I hated it all.
No matter how many times my parents threw things away, forbidding me from watching or reading certain things, I still heard about them at school.
How exciting the late-night dramas were.
How fun video games could be.
Of course, not every religious household was like mine.
That was just my family.
Strangely enough, despite being raised in that kind of household, I was as materialistic as they come.
I wanted to experience everything my classmates talked about.
I wanted to read violent comics.
I wanted to watch the animated adaptations.
I wanted to play shooter games.
I wanted to watch movies that criticized religion.
I rebelled countless times, and my parents tried just as hard to mold me back into the "good child" they envisioned.
In the end, it all fell apart.
“So, that’s what it was—just rebellion.”
The path I took was my proof.
That I could do all of it—
That I could enjoy everything I had been told was wrong—
And still turn out just fine.
That I could adapt, live flexibly, and navigate society far better than they ever could.
That everything they told me was a lie.
…….
The voice paused briefly.
—If it had been mere rebellion, there were far more destructive paths you could have taken.
And just like that, my words were denied.
—If that was all it was, then in the end…
My final moments.
Was there something in them that completely refuted everything I had said?
But I never got to hear the rest.
A dull pain spread through my hand.
Suddenly, my lungs were filled with air, and I felt as though all the strength in my body had been drained.
The brilliant white light that had filled my vision flickered out in an instant. My entire body ached, as if I had been pummeled all over. Or maybe it was more like severe muscle soreness.
My legs were numb… If I had to be honest, the way I felt just moments ago had been much more comfortable.
But.
If I had stayed there any longer, I wouldn’t have been able to see this—
I wouldn’t have seen Ria, looking as if she were on the verge of breaking into tears.
“…Ria.”
I called her name.
Without a word, Ria lifted me in her arms and stood up.
“…Did the battle end well?”
“…It did.”
She answered, her voice choked with tears.
I hadn’t meant to make her cry.
Something warm dripped from the back of my hand. I wasn’t sure what it was.
Ah, my eyelids felt so heavy.
I wanted to grasp the situation a little more, but I had the distinct feeling that wasn’t going to happen. Well, it wasn’t the first time I’d pushed myself too hard and immediately passed out afterward.
With every step Ria took, people hurriedly stepped aside, parting like the Red Sea in the old scriptures.
She walked forward in silence.
“…That’s a relief.”
That was all I could manage to say.
And then, in my battle against sleep, I lost.
*
I didn’t feel like I had slept for long.
It was that kind of sleep—the kind you have after an exhausting physical ordeal.
Like when you start a new job, and your boss—an older guy with way too much energy—suggests a “bonding experience” by dragging everyone on an overnight hike.
By the time you finally collapse into bed, it feels like you’ve just blinked, but somehow, half a day has passed.
A sleep so deep it doesn’t even count as rest—just a complete blackout.
To be honest, I didn’t feel refreshed at all.
Physically, it felt like I had just closed my eyes for a second.
I would’ve preferred even a short, nonsensical dream over this.
“Ugh.”
And on top of that, my whole body hurt. I wasn’t sure exactly where the pain was coming from—just that it was everywhere.
Ah.
I wasn’t struggling to pinpoint the pain because it was vague. It was because everything hurt.
Even after realizing that, I didn’t feel any better.
Still, despite the discomfort, I furrowed my brows and tried to sit up—
Poke.
Someone pressed down on my shoulder.
My entire body ached too much to resist, so I just sank back into the bed.
“…Ria?”
There was only one person who could be beside me—Ria.
No, wait, it’s not like that. This isn’t some romantic moment. She’s my knight, my bodyguard. Even back at the convent, and every time I went outside, she was always by my side, protecting me. Even in the Dwarven Kingdom, we shared a room, so this was nothing unusual.
“……”
But Ria didn’t respond at all.
For some reason, that made me nervous. I turned my head toward her—
Ria was looking down at me, expressionless, silent.
“…R-Ria.”
I stammered, suddenly feeling uneasy.
Before she had left my side, I had felt an inexplicable chill down my spine, like an unknown force washing over me.
It had felt like someone was looking at me with intense, burning anger.
“Hey.”
Ria spoke. Not my name, not even in the usual way. It was rough—like a delinquent picking on a weakling.
Which didn’t even make sense. If anyone looked like the delinquent here, it was probably me.
Wait, that’s not important right now.
“You—did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That divine power could harm you.”
“……”
…What?
Divine power? Harm me?
That was the first time I’d ever heard such a thing.
There was no such setting in the novel either.
Sure, there were legends about saintesses sacrificing themselves to save the world. It had happened before, but no one had an exact record of what actually went down. Even if someone had recorded it, divine power wasn’t something you could capture on film.
So, whether the saintess had fought off the monsters and then simply passed away from exhaustion, or—like some devout believers claimed—she had “become light” and vanished, no one knew for sure.
Honestly, I found the latter idea kind of ridiculous. The church itself must have thought so too, since they were still searching for her remains.
I must have looked completely bewildered because Ria suddenly grabbed my hand, a little rougher than usual.
I didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed.
Ria lifted my hand right in front of my face.
“Wha—?! W-Wait a second!?”
Of course, my entire body was sore, so that movement sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over me. It hurt. A lot.
But Ria seemed to think this was urgent—something I absolutely needed to see right now.
“What are you even—”
I stopped mid-sentence.
There was a bandage wrapped around my hand.
Through the bandages, a faint reddish glow could be seen. Judging by the fact that there was no pain typically associated with such wounds, the bleeding seemed to have stopped for now. However, the traces of when the bandages were first wrapped remained intact.
"……."
"You didn’t know, did you?"
"What is this?"
As I spoke, I instinctively reached out with my other hand to unravel the bandages—only to realize that it, too, was wrapped in bandages.
With a firm expression, Ria silently unwrapped the bandages from my hand.
At a glance, the back of my hand didn’t look much different from usual. But right in the center of that pale skin, there was a tiny scar—a faint indentation, as if I had been pricked by a needle.
If someone were to call it a "stigmata," they’d be laughed at. The mark was far too insignificant.
And yet—
"A lot of blood flowed from that tiny wound. More than should be possible."
Ria spoke with a calm, unreadable expression.
"……."
I had no words to respond.