Not a Confession, but a Declaration - Chapter 4

It was an era of fading magic.

The divine power to heal and sustain life was the only remaining miracle and light in the world.

Because of that, people worshipped the church, and those who possessed the divine power were regarded as chosen beings.

Among those chosen, the highest was none other than Abel — the divine messenger called by the Father from the moment of his birth.

The identities of his parents were unknown.

However, it was said that when Abel was born, his parents heard the voice of the Father, and a symbol representing the Father was engraved on Abel’s forehead when he was sent to the temple.

At first, many doubted Abel’s existence.

There were those who tried to verify whether the mark on his forehead was truly natural, and whether the voice his parents heard was indeed the Father’s.

But such doubts completely vanished when Abel manifested his divine power. By the time Abel turned five, dozens of priests witnessed his immense divine power and heard the voice of the Father.

There were murmurs suggesting that the priests might have collectively experienced auditory hallucinations, but Abel’s vast — indeed, almost boundless — divine power was undeniable.

Even if all the clergy in the temple were summoned, none could compare to the divine power Abel possessed. Thus, at the age of five, Abel became the unquestioned “Herald of God,” wielding absolute power.

Abel.

Since his parents were unknown, he had no family name from the start, and even his given name was bestowed by the Father rather than his biological parents.

Unlike ordinary clergy who abandoned their surnames upon entering the temple to signify their sole devotion to the Father, Abel was whole and perfect simply as “Abel.”

And what of his appearance?

Manifesting divine power had turned his hair pure white, and his eyes, which emitted a mysterious light from birth, made him even more enigmatic.

Having never done any labor, his skin was flawless and pale as snow; his well-maintained white hair shone brightly; and his pristine white robes, untouched even by dust, bore the distinct mark of a clergyman.

In his all-white appearance, Abel’s eyes were the only vivid color he possessed aside from his pink lips. They were an exquisite blend of gold and crimson, like the sun itself suspended in the sky.

Born special in every way, Abel’s personality was equally unique.

People became aware of Abel’s problem not long after he manifested his divine power.

When Abel was entrusted to the temple, the priest who acted as his caretaker was abruptly removed in a power struggle, but Abel did not notice the priest’s absence.

Those who worried about what to do if Abel demanded the return of that priest were the first to realize Abel’s peculiarity.

Abel was not lacking or flawed in any way. Rather, he expressed almost no emotions, showed astonishing indifference to his surroundings, and had no particular desires.

At first, it was thought that he was simply too young and unaware of the power he possessed. But even after adolescence and into adulthood, Abel remained unchanged.

In fact, as he grew older, these traits became even more pronounced.

Abel still showed not a shred of emotion, did not allow others close, and did not wield the power he had.

And the way people looked at Abel was divided into two camps: those who believed that such detached composure was fitting for the Herald of God, and those who doubted whether someone who felt nothing could truly be the Herald of God.

Naturally, as long as Abel existed as the “Herald of God,” the latter opinion was always dismissed.

By now, even Abel’s peculiar personality was regarded as proof that he was different from ordinary humans.

Despite his beautiful face, people had become completely accustomed to Abel’s indifferent and dry expression as he moved through the temple.

But for the first time, Abel exercised his power with personal emotion behind it.

At first, there was talk about what kind of wrongdoing the knights had committed that Abel himself had to intervene.

Because Abel usually did not wield his authority, the clergy had tried even harder to serve him well.

Abel showed little emotion, but his likes and dislikes were clear. So as long as they stayed within those boundaries, there would have been no problems — but suddenly Abel demanded the punishment of the entire order of knights? Everyone could only conclude that the knights must have done something terribly wrong.

However, that certainty quickly shattered. Only a few hours after Abel’s order, the entire temple had heard his true intention.

“Lord Abel said that Sir Felix is ‘his man.’”

“Are you joking?”