Chapter 224
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
‘That is precisely the divine order designed by God. Even so, do not take pride in your hands stained with others’ blood, nor hate too deeply the hands stained with your own blood.’
But those words were not meant for me. They were for those who kill enemies yet suffer, and for those who hate those who harmed them. For them, I quietly clasped my bloodied hands.
‘Humans inevitably commit sins to survive. Since life is God’s will, sinning is part of His design as well.’
I had no choice but to nod in agreement. After all, the meat I eat to live carries the sin of slaughter. All humans sin to survive, and God created those conditions.
‘Therefore, even if you sin, be sure to survive. But never forget the weight of the sins committed to stay alive.’
The priest offered comfort and admonishment to the wounded souls.
‘God allows us to live while committing sins, and through this tests us. He sets us before a crossroads and watches: If there are paths of beast, demon, and human, will this person choose the human path? No path is sinless, but is there a human heart choosing the way that stains the least with others’ blood and tears? He watches this.’
Though encouraging good deeds, these words were meaningless to those dragged to battlefields, forced to kill with guns in their hands. Showing mercy to the enemy would be death.
The priest’s next words seemed to read my mind.
‘But the path given to us now is only one: to follow the sheep in front of us. There is no other way.’
Strictly speaking, there is another way—disobedience or desertion—but that ends in death, not the path of life the priest spoke of.
‘Thus, we sin unwillingly, driven by others’ will and helpless.’
Sobs of frustration arose here and there. The priest knelt silently beside a soldier, laying his hand on his head and comforting him.
‘Rest assured, God knows all. But His test does not end. So survive, but suffer your sins. That is what is fitting for humans. Only souls of those who feel this rightful pain will be saved by God.’
More soldiers began to weep at this permission to feel anguish. The priest laid his hands on each one, praying that God would save the souls of those with human hearts. Even watching from afar, I felt comforted.
‘It’s okay to suffer. That means I still have a human heart.’
At that moment, as before, a tear traced down my cheek. The tears I once had to wipe away with my bloodied hands were now wiped by another’s hand. The owner of those hands softly prayed to God, bringing me back to reality.
“God, please save this woman’s suffering soul.”
Though briefly distracted by recovered memories, Killian’s voice, like the priest’s, had a calming power over my restless heart. My whole body grew languid, eyelids heavy. Amidst the barrage of gunfire, I helplessly slipped into sleep.
Just before surrendering my present and past to rest, a strange unease struck me.
‘Why does the priest’s voice in my memory sound like Killian’s?’
Could it be that what I saw today was a dream, not a memory? Confused between what is memory and what is dream, I surrendered to his voice and lost consciousness.
* * *
Falling asleep—what a shock.
Not just because a beast was devouring a person right behind the wall, or humans killing each other nearby, but also because despite doubting Killian’s kindness as possibly fake, I fell asleep in his arms, soothed by his voice.
‘I’m really something…’
Even now, I rely on Killian’s hands as I walk down the mountain slope. There’s a reason I must lean on him now.
‘But why did I marry a man I didn’t love in the past?’
The recovered memories vividly recalled my feelings then. I clearly did not love my fiance.
“…You weren’t always like this. So why suddenly…”
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