SRS 51

Yohan paused at the cynical response. Mikael’s words, declaring he couldn’t use divine power, crawled back into his consciousness.

While Yohan watched his expression, Mikael, who had led him into the space he created, sat down in a chair. When he snapped his fingers, a new chair appeared in front of Yohan.

Yohan sat quietly, crossed one leg over the other, folded his arms, and met Mikael’s stare without expression. He had expected this, but it seemed his use of a cowardly trick had earned Mikael’s hatred.

“Speak.”

The angel tilted his head slightly. It seemed he had no intention of revealing his secret until Yohan laid down his cards first. Yohan took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.

He never thought the day would come when he’d tell Mikael his story in a situation like this. Nor did he expect his secret to be exposed so soon. But the same likely went for Mikael as well.

Thinking that they were in the same position, Yohan calmed his pounding heart. Fortunately, the illusion in the commercial district had already tempered his mind, so even bringing up Cheplen now seemed unlikely to shake him.

Maybe it was divine arrangement that he created that illusion of Chaplen back then.

For once, Yohan thought like a priest. He slowly opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Mikael’s beautiful face. He didn’t know where to begin, so he started from the very bottom of his memories.

The memory of his birth.

That was the beginning. And from there, the past he had hidden began to flow out of his mouth. Yohan calmly recounted the memories that filled his mind in order of time. His calm voice wavered for the first time when Cheplen was mentioned.

The day he met Cheplen was a day of heavy rain. Yohan was only ten years old then, a lonely orphan without divine power or anything else. He lived hiding in ruins and begged day and night, managing to eat once every two days if he was lucky.

That day, it had rained for five days straight as if the sky was torn open. After failing to beg for five days, Yohan’s body finally reached its limit.

Unable to endure his hunger, Yohan pushed through the rain to knock on villagers’ doors. But every house he went to turned him away. It was that kind of time. After years of war against monsters, everyone in the village was struggling to survive. For someone like Yohan, powerless, the world was full of danger.

In the end, he couldn’t overcome the limits of his body and fainted. Even as the rain poured over his face, his eyes kept closing. Just as his breath was about to stop, at that very moment, Yohan met Cheplen.

To young Yohan, Cheplen looked like an angel sent from the heavens.

Wearing pure white priest’s robes, he stroked Yohan’s head with a gentle smile and filled his exhausted body with divine power. He gave Yohan food and clothes, carried the boy who couldn’t even walk on his back, and headed for the temple.

That was the first time Yohan had ever been carried on someone’s back.

That warmth, those clothes, that food, were the most precious and good things he had ever known since he was born. So it was no wonder that their first meeting engraved itself into his soul and mind. Following Cheplen became inevitable fate.

“At that time, I followed Cheplen into the temple. Thanks to his kindness, I was allowed to study and live at the cleric school even though I had no divine power. He was my benefactor.”

His eyes lost focus.

Yes, he had been a benefactor.

The only one he’d ever have in his life.

The other children at the school were jealous and resentful of Yohan, who alone received Cheplen’s affection. They couldn’t accept that someone without divine power took the same classes as them and often harassed him.

Because he understood how they felt, Yohan never resisted. He simply endured it and cried quietly at night. At some point, Cheplen noticed what was happening between Yohan and the other children. Every night, he held Yohan in his arms, comforted him, and recited God’s miracles.

It was Cheplen who first believed Yohan had the qualities of a priest, that divine blessing would come to him because he didn’t hate those children.

And just as he believed, and just as he prayed every day, Yohan awakened his divine power around the age of twelve. The weak power grew stronger with each passing year, and by the time he turned fifteen, it shone brilliantly.

He had begun to suspect something since then.

When Yohan led the empire to victory in the long war against the monsters, Cheplen’s expression was neither moved nor joyful but horrified.

Yohan could never forget the look in his wide eyes, the pupils reflecting him in disbelief.

From that day, Cheplen’s attitude subtly changed. Yohan became High Priest, and Cheplen, recognized for his long service and Yohan’s trust, became his adjutant. He served as the temple’s second-in-command, managing and leading it alongside Yohan.

Cheplen faithfully fulfilled his duties. When Yohan asked, he still showed the same expression as before and played the role of father, teacher, friend, and subordinate when needed. But sometimes he would look out the window with a blank expression. Even though Yohan was still young, he sensed that Cheplen felt some kind of emptiness.

But he ignored it.

Because he loved the affection he received too much.

“…He came to me and said he wanted to resign. He said his heart might change, and he couldn’t stay in his position any longer. He said it would be better for me to dismiss him before he became corrupted.”

Cheplen hadn’t betrayed Yohan from the beginning. He had long been a devout believer who had lived as a priest far longer than Yohan. Even though darkness had touched his heart, he hadn’t lost his goodness as a son of God.

Realizing that his devotion was turning astray, Cheplen bowed his head to Yohan and asked to retire. He wished to quit the priesthood and live quietly in a small village.

And Yohan refused that request.

“…I was the one who pushed him toward corruption.”

If he had hesitated a little more back then, if he had thought about Cheplen’s heart before his own, if he hadn’t acted out of foolish selfishness, then Cheplen’s betrayal and his own miserable death might never have happened.

As he confessed his past, Yohan laughed bitterly and clasped his hands together. His shoulders felt heavy. When his request was rejected, Cheplen’s expression as he tried to hide his pained face had weighed on him.

It was only after seeing that face that Yohan realized his mistake, but once spoken, words couldn’t be taken back.

He later added that Cheplen could take a short break if he needed it, but Cheplen refused. Instead, he reflected that he had been negligent, saying that since Yohan had only just become High Priest, it was his duty to stay by his side. He then resigned and left. The sight of him walking away, burdened by grief, was still vivid in Yohan’s eyes, as if it had happened yesterday.

No matter how he looked at it, Yohan couldn’t deny that he had been the one who paved the path for Cheplen’s fall. The reason he could never fully hate Cheplen was also because of the guilt he felt toward him.

“Each day felt like walking on ice. I wanted to deny it, so I acted brighter than ever, pretending not to notice anything, covering my eyes and ears. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Day by day, Cheplen rotted inside until he finally chose betrayal. He forced Yohan to eat a demon’s heart and stole his divine power. He locked Yohan in an underground prison, deceived the imperial family and the temple by saying that Yohan had been kidnapped by a high-ranking demon, and threw everyone into confusion by claiming that a great war was about to begin. Using that chaos as a chance, he seized control of the temple’s authority.

With Yohan gone, all of the temple’s power naturally shifted to Cheplen, making him the new High Priest.

And so, Chaplen took Yohan’s place and became the head of the temple, while the one who was raised by him was thrown into the lowest place in the world.

It was the future Yohan had brought upon himself.

“I lost my position, my divine power, and then… I suffered under the demon’s curse…”

Yohan frowned.

He had died strangled by Cheplen’s hands.

That simple sentence was hard to say. His throat tightened, his words jammed, and his tongue rolled uselessly in his mouth. Mikael waited in silence. Since Yohan began speaking, he hadn’t said a single word. He made no sound, letting Yohan’s confession sound like a monologue.

On the stage Mikael had created for him, Yohan rubbed his face with his hand. The final memory of the Yufir Continent surged through his consciousness.

“…I died by Cheplen’s hand.”

The sound of his breath filled the space between them. Yohan opened his eyes, looked at Mikael, and broke the silence.

“That’s why I ended the here.”

It had been part of their earlier promise to tell everything once they were ready. Since Yohan had broken his promise by speaking first, he wanted at least to keep the rest. He said it all without hiding anything. After speaking, he even felt a little lighter.

He took a deep breath, feeling like someone just rescued from beneath a calm sea. His heart was pounding, his ventricles expanding and contracting again.

Mikael silently watched Yohan’s face, which looked relieved yet burdened. His earlier slouched posture, with one leg crossed and head tilted, was gone. Instead, there was now a desk in front of him. Yohan hadn’t noticed when it appeared. Mikael put his arm on it and propped his chin, scrutinizing Yohan.

Yohan belatedly realized it, and blinked in surprise.

“Hm.”

Mikael let out a dismissive hum. After listening to Yohan’s long confession for nearly two hours, that seemed to be his entire reaction.

“There’s no reason to blame yourself for a human’s corruption. You look weighed down by guilt, maybe it’s time you set it down.”

His indifferent tone sounded like advice.

“Once you let guilt chain your feet, you’ll keep falling. You’ve been through it before.”

The last line sounded almost like he was talking to himself. Yohan closed his mouth, realizing what Mikael meant. He was talking about the illusion of Cheplen Yohan had created. Or maybe, he was referring to the hallucinations that tormented Yohan whenever he used his power outside the first year zone.

As Yohan was lost in thought, Mikael sighed while watching him.

“…A promise should be kept.”