No, How Can an Atheist Become a Saintess!? – 96
EP.96 Stubbornness and Arrogance (8)
“Boo!”
“Those gold-obsessed bastards! Do they think money can solve everything?!”
“What are those damned priests doing here?!”
That was the general sentiment in the air.
Dwarven sanctuaries were mostly mobile, I’d heard. And their placement at the edges of the mines had a simple reason—this was where the most injuries occurred. For a race that had built their kingdom underground, mining ore itself must have once been considered a sacred act. But over time, such acts change.
At first, the miners were revered for their work, but as leaders emerged to command them, power naturally concentrated in those hands. The more the system expanded, the more layers of hierarchy were added. Eventually, the very pioneers who had once been valued above all were pushed to the fringes, while the supreme commanders at the top seized the most important positions. And in dwarven society, those at the very bottom—the ones farthest from the central power—were the miners. As long as they could extract valuable ore, they were treated well enough. But the moment they couldn’t—
They were abandoned.
“……”
I clenched my fist slightly.
A faint glow seeped from my ring, illuminating the area around me. The expressions of the dwarves shifted. Those who had looked most ready to attack hesitated and stepped back, even the armed soldiers among them appearing startled.
I reached out toward the one standing at the forefront. Did they think I was about to cast a spell? The man flinched, looking as if he might bolt at any moment. His hair and beard were patchy, and his frame, unlike that of most dwarves, was gaunt. His malnourished body was covered in scars.
Had he been scouring the rocks with bare hands? His fingers were missing in places, his hands riddled with wounds.
As I slowly extended the light toward him—
“W-What?!”
He gasped and stared at his hands in disbelief.
Had he been using them to dig without proper tools? The wounds covering his maimed fingers were gradually healing. The blackened areas around his injuries lightened and returned to normal.
…Just as I thought.
Dwarves could store magic in their bodies. And dwarven royalty possessed an even greater capacity for it—so much so that an exceptional princess could generate a magic core through sheer power alone.
However, there are also cases where it is the opposite. Just as some people can consume vast amounts of food effortlessly, others are full after only a small portion.
I turned to the priests. Their faces were twisted in open displeasure.
Dwarves revered magic, and those who couldn't control it were ostracized. Much like how some on Earth might view someone unable to endure divine power as a demon, the dwarves similarly scorned those unable to handle magic.
“I wish to heal the wounded.”
Since they revered magic, many dwarves must have despised divine power, fearing it would drain their magic reserves. That was understandable though. But for those who had never been able to properly receive magic in the first place—
They had nothing to lose.
“Let’s heal those who are severely injured by magic first.”
I smiled brightly.
“Would you mind forming a line?”
*
"Anna."
"Hm?"
By the time I'd healed over a hundred dwarves, Ria called my name.
I turned my head—only to find her face far too close.
I flinched in surprise.
"What is it?"
"Do you really think this will persuade them?"
"Persuade? Who?"
"You know… them."
Ria tilted her chin slightly, drawing my attention to the priests gathered nearby. They were watching us with expressions that could only be described as… strange.
Maybe they saw this as some kind of blessing ritual. Well, it wasn’t surprising—they had no real way to understand what I was doing. From their perspective, I was probably just throwing around divine power as carelessly as if I were splashing magic all over the place. But that wasn’t entirely accurate.
A dwarven woman sat before me. Just as the men had mentioned earlier, she hadn’t received proper grooming. Her beard hung loosely and unevenly. It had been cut short, which was the only reason I could even tell she was female—her neck and the shape of her body gave it away.
Without a word, the woman extended a child toward me.
"May I…?"
I spread my hands slightly as I spoke. The woman, silent as before, placed the child in my arms. Her grip was weak. A sharp, unwashed smell clung to her, but I didn’t flinch. By now, I had grown used to it.
I cradled the child.
"……."
Ria fell silent.
The child in my arms looked indistinguishable from a human infant. In fact, I could barely see any difference at all.
But there was one thing—
As I pulled away the tattered cloth wrapped around the child, Ria let out a sharp breath.
Patches of the child's body were tainted with magic. It wasn’t just ordinary wounds surrounded by discoloration—this was something deeper. The thin, pale skin beneath was infected, corrupted, as if magic had seeped into it like a poison.
I held the child close and closed my eyes.
There was no need for a prayer. The divine power, as if startled by the situation, flooded down upon me the moment I opened myself to it.
When I looked again—
The child's skin had returned to its natural color.
The child, who had been limp with closed eyes, slowly opened them.
Still emaciated, still weak, but—alive.
"…Do you know what kind of water this child drank?"
At my question, the woman lifted her head to look at me.
She parted her lips as if to speak—but no words came out.
I caught a glimpse inside her mouth.
It was hollow.
"……."
Without a word, I gently returned the child to her arms.
"Let’s go. Together."
I rose to my feet. Without hesitation, Ria did the same.
The knights who had been steadily arriving over the past few hours followed suit.
"I’d appreciate it if one of the priests could guide us," I said, turning toward them.
"…I heard that the inner slums used to be where a sanctuary once stood."
I recalled snippets of conversation I had overheard from the dwarves earlier.
The priests still looked deeply displeased—but upon noticing the newly arrived knights, they begrudgingly nodded. Perhaps it was because of the princess’s orders. Or perhaps because I was an important guest.
Or—
I glanced at the inquisitors standing with their broad, imposing shoulders. Bringing them along had been a good decision.
…Even if the church had forced them on me.
*
As I was saying earlier, dwarves don’t survive on magic alone. Like us, they need to eat. Magic is merely a supplementary force—it doesn’t sustain their lives entirely. If it did, I wouldn’t be treated as a guest like this. And I certainly wouldn’t have been able to heal them with divine power.
"……."
I looked down at the pool of water before me.
Even just standing near it, I could feel an intense tingling on my skin—the sheer concentration of magic was overwhelming. It wasn’t as vast as the gnome’s lake, but its density hinted at just how powerful it was.
So, this was what they called magic-infused water.
The only reason the dwarves had survived drinking it was because they were dwarves. Even those with weaker magic absorption could still endure it far better than humans ever could.
"…I think I understand why the slums exist now."
Ria muttered.
Exactly.
This wasn’t just a place where the injured were sent. People must have gathered here for all sorts of reasons. After all, this wasn’t a livable space—it wasn’t meant for people to survive.
Now I understood why they had warned us that this place was dangerous. And why the princess had mentioned it first. There were likely places like this scattered throughout the dwarf kingdom.
In the distance, I could see an abandoned sanctuary. A massive, formless idol—representing whatever god the dwarves worshipped—stood in the ruins, completely consumed by magic.
"Wait!"
As if he had guessed what I was about to do, a priest suddenly shouted.
"You mustn’t!"
The rotund priest, panting from running over, threw himself in front of me, arms outstretched.
"This magic is—"
"—Sacred to the dwarves. I know. But if things stay like this, people will keep dying. You can use magic stones, sure—but magic mixed into drinking water? Even you can’t do anything about that, can you?"
I raised my hand.
"And listen carefully—because I am an expert in this field. If you leave this alone, the dwarf kingdom will suffer a far greater disaster someday."
"But…!"
"I don’t know what kind of religious beliefs you have, but if you keep standing here arguing, all that magic stored in your body is going to drain away."
The priest’s face turned ghostly pale. Then, without another word, he ran. Seriously?
…Then again, I supposed the lack of moderation was exactly what had led to this mess.
I let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes.
A sinking feeling told me—
This was about to get very, very complicated.