Irene Decided to Die - Chapter 42

Plip, plop.

Rain began to fall from the clear sky without clouds. The clear streams of rain healed the people with injuries as it touched the ground.

‘It is not just one ability?’

Grein wore a look of astonishment. All sorts of miracles were unfolding around Irene.

Growing plants, falling rain, healing people, and even the cries of animals gathering from somewhere. The powers that past saints had exhibited were now emanating from Irene.

Amid these miracles, people’s perceptions began to change.

“She’s the saint.”

“The true saint!”

Despite her appearance, she was the saint acknowledged by the Goddess.

While some people still harbored doubts, the majority now turned towards Irene. No other saint could manifest such abilities.

“Long live the saint!”

Someone’s shout spread like a wave.

And at the end of that shout, Irene collapsed. She had used too much power.

In the moment of the onslaught of miracles, Irene realized how to use all her abilities.

At the same time, a flood of emotions filled her heart. She felt like she might cry. The world wanted her. This feeling was new to her.

Irene clutched her chest and curled up.

‘This feels strange.’

Even knowing this, she couldn’t suppress her emotions.

As the proof of miracles descended from the sky, Sage’s face turned pale.

Initially, when Irene appeared in her unusual attire, he thought, ‘Maybe…’ Her outfit was so radical, and her appearance suggested a demonic heritage.

But it had just been a vain hope.

Irene was indeed the true saint, one with unprecedented abilities.

“This, this is!”

Shah-Naz reached out his hand to the rain. Each droplet that touched his skin brought overwhelming power and healing, rejuvenating his body.

Even if they wanted to deny it, the clear evidence was right in front of them.

“How far is the rain reaching?”

At Garan’s question, a nearby cleric responded.

“We are currently sending messengers to various regions to find out.”

“Sending messengers to other regions, you mean?”

Could this rain be widespread? Garan smiled, his lips curling up.

What an absurd notion of the saint! Yet, the saint with such powers harbored hatred for people, for the world.

The worst kind of saint had emerged.

That’s what Garan thought.

‘Well, the more human they are, the more vulnerabilities they have.’

Garan ruminated on the past with regret. If he had known, he would have treated her more fairly. It was already too late for regrets.

He was no different from Sage and Shah-Naz.

They had given rise to the worst saint. Sage couldn’t hide his woeful expression.

In the end, Irene was innocent. If that was the case, then they were merely brutal individuals who had tormented the guiltless saint.

‘Should I have prayed more?’

Sage washed his face with dry hands and sighed again.

“Is she really the saint?”

Shah-Naz murmured quietly. By now, he too must have realized everything. Their sins, the situation moving forward.

“We were wrong.”

Sage said.

“But!”

Shah-Naz started to say something more but then closed his mouth. He bit his lip, chewing it thoughtfully. There was much he wanted to say.

Irene had never liked Ramiel. She tried not to show it, but the feeling was distinctly palpable.

If there was no crime of assassination, then indeed, the torture was excessive.

But still, was Irene completely blameless in her suspicions?

Shah-Naz had always thought so. But it seemed that this might have been the wrong assumption.

Thump.

Shah-Naz banged his head against the wall.

Thump.

The more the pain intensified, the clearer his thoughts became. He now felt certain about what needed to be done.

“Are you alright?”

The first to approach Irene, who was crouched on the ground, was Burt.

“Are you okay?”

Irene lifted her gaze and looked ahead. The cheers of the people were unending, and praises sprang from every direction.

“…I’m fine.”

“The proof is complete. You can go in and rest now.”

“Just a little longer, I’ll stay here a bit longer.”

“Then make yourself comfortable.”

Burt helped adjust Irene’s posture so she sat more comfortably on the ground. Though she was essentially slumped over, it was indeed more comfortable.

Her clothes were soaked with the pouring rain. The miracle had not healed Irene’s wounds. Thus, she felt a bit cold.

Then, heavy clothing fell over her shoulders.