Wasn’t This a Night Game

A Miracle Site (Not)

{And lifting their eyes, they beheld the Saint weeping, blood streaming down.

Even the most vile and filthy creature shall He love and pity, willingly wallowing amongst filth and refuse, shedding tears.

Unto the ugly He shall say they are beautiful, for since the beginning, not one truly beautiful being has existed.

Through this, you shall see that the Goddess of Grace lives.}

-The Holy Scripture of Grace, Chapter 51, Verse 12.-

*

About three minutes must have passed, holding the witch tight and patting her back.

My shoulder feels damp.

The witch in my arms was weeping.

Her body heaving as she cried, couldn’t tell if it was a cry of release, of being moved, or a goddamn, I-hate-this-so-much-I’m-about-to-burn-the-world-down kind of purging.

I held her tighter, just like that.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Not okay. Fuck.

Can you just stop crying and calm the hell down?

‘Cause you crying like this, I can’t tell if this is the precursor to her blowing up, or her finally settling.

When I was half outta my mind, patting her back…

“Even a saint wouldn’t stand for this!”

“That’s a Calamity! A Calamity!! It’ll bring ruin to this world!”

“We must deal with it quickly! Saint-nim! Stand back! We can’t let this stand!!”

I hear the white-robed priests of the Order spitting sharp words in my direction.

A Calamity that brings ruin to the world, huh?

Yeah. True enough.

This here is a Calamity for sure.

So can’t you see I’m busting my ass to save your sorry hides?

You fucking morons!

She’ll blow if I don’t comfort her right now!!

Guess nearly kicking the bucket a moment ago has my nerves frayed raw.

I glared at the priests, raising my voice.

To survive, siding with the witch was the only way.

“Why is she a Calamity Bringer?”

To my question, the priests, as if frustrated, pointed at the witch and screamed.

“Abomination!! Holy One!! Abomination!”

“Look at those spider-like four arms, that twisted left face, and those grotesque eyeballs!”

“She worships an evil god, that’s why she’s become so hideous!”

“She will bring ruin to the world!”

These crazy b*stards!

The witch is listening to all of this!!

What if she snaps?!

I roared, a burst of fury.

“So, hideous equals Calamity Bringer? You’re trying to destroy a person’s soul and life for such a petty reason?”

I rose from my spot, still holding the witch.

Perhaps because my life hung by a thread.

An immense voice, terrifying even to myself, exploded from my mouth.

A near-desperate volume, born from the struggle to live.

“What is truly ugly?! If appearance is ugly and twisted, is that truly ugly? No!! You’re wrong! That is not ugly!! The truly ugly thing is your hearts!”

I looked at the citizens who were just throwing filth and mocking her.

“You, who throw filth based on appearance alone, you, who destroy a person’s life and soul, are far uglier!!”

I snickered, watching the laughing crowd, and screamed,

“You, giggling and chattering like it’s a game while a person is being destroyed… you’re the uglier ones!! And!!”

Finally, I yelled towards the priests of the White Order.

“You scream about hunting evil, but your hands are stained with the blood of the innocent… you are far more grotesque.”

At my words, the priests of the White Order faltered, stepping back.

Even I thought it was a monstrous voice, so they had reason to.

“…An ugly appearance doesn’t just happen. It’s the curse of a god that makes them like that. Saint.”

“That’s right. If she is left alive, someday, surely, there will be trouble. Saint.”

“If you just let an Abomination live, the empire is in danger. We are doing this to save everyone.”

The priests of the White Order stammered back at me like that.

Well.

There’s some truth to those words.

In fact, those priests are all right.

They’re a famous order of demon hunters… they really are accurate.

How did they find this black magic witch and manage to escort her like this?

But I have to stop this witch from going berserk.

If they take her like this, everyone will die!!

“Some gods may curse. Not all gods are good.”

So, I needed to dissuade these priests.

But how?

Though twisted, it was as I’d first planned.

Fix her face, that’s all!

“And if there’s a god who curses, then there’s also a god who lifts curses.”

Carefully, I placed my hand on the witch’s head.

And triggered the skill.

[Skill: Body Modification is activating!]

The familiar customization window popped open.

A 3D model of the witch’s body state appeared.

After modifying countless slum dwellers, this window was now old hat.

Slowly.

I began to modify the witch’s body.

Removed the extra pair of arms sprouting from below.

Erased the grotesque burn scar on the left side of her face.

And did away with all those closely packed eyeballs.

Then, a notice popped up that some drug was causing an anesthetic effect, so I purged all of that, too.

Once everything was cleaned up, there was nothing more to touch.

The original template was already of supreme beauty; with that alone, the witch now possessed a visage to make your eyes spin.

“Ah!! Uuh!…….Urgh!”

The witch made strange noises as the body modification took place.

This in itself was familiar.

It was common, you know, for folks to make noises like that, all outta whack as the augmentations rearranged muscle and bone at their whim.

But this light, blooming outta my body more and more…what was that?

What is this?

Why’s light exploding outta me?

The moment the mod was complete.

A blinding flash, you could call it, a burst of intense light from my very being. Then it faded.

And in its wake, a woman, beautiful beyond words, slumped in the mud.

“By the…the world!……”

“Mercy, a Dulanair!……”

White Order clerics, stunned beyond belief, crumpled to their knees.

“Saint! Saint!”

“A miracle! She works miracles again!”

The slum dwellers dropped to their knees, prostrating themselves before me.

“Rophus be praised.”

“I swear by the Sun, never have I seen a Saint so true.”

“The Goddess of Grace lives!”

Sun Order paladins, too, crossed themselves and bowed low with reverence.

That final light, it was that, I reckon, what did it.

Why it burst out, I dunno, but truth be told, even to me, it looked like a straight-up miracle.

I slowly take in the witch’s form.

Mmmph!

Truly beautiful!

Good!

With looks like this, she could debut as a top-tier idol in Korea right now, no question!

I can consider this sufficiently treated, right?

I trust there won’t be any more rampages or anything.

Please.

“Whether it was a curse, an illness, or the countless wounds people inflicted upon you… it’s all gone now.”

The witch fumbled at the left side of her face, then looked up at me, silently letting tears stream down.

That’s it.

Looking at it now, these are tears of emotion!

Yes!

After going to the trouble of healing her, it’d be a problem if she blew up!

“You are beautiful. Truly.”

I said that to the witch with a smile.

Giving her this much lip service, surely there won’t be any explosions now.

Now that the healing’s done.

All that’s left is to vanish without a trace before the Lilia Order folks come to the capital.

*

The sensation of the anesthetic pressing down on my body faded.

The sensation of the magic suppressant, hindering the use of magic, vanished.

Erpa touched her left cheek.

Gone, utterly gone, was the rough, horrifying feel of those hideous eyeballs. Only smooth skin remained beneath her fingertips.

Everything, just as she’d dreamt it.

A human form.

No longer did she possess four arms, nor those grotesque eyes.

Unbidden, tears streamed down.

Truth be told, just moments before she hadn’t trusted the man before her.

This was her appearance, one she had toiled for ages to change.

There was no way the man before her could solve such a problem in an instant.

That’s what she had thought.

But she was wrong.

A magically incomprehensible phenomenon unfolded within her.

The grown arms disappeared, the twisted face returned to normal.

That moment of transformation.

So astonishing, so joyous, that without realizing it, she let loose the magic she had been hoarding to incinerate the world.

That was why a blinding flash of light erupted.

Even as she touched her face, she couldn’t believe it.

Erpa slowly rises to her feet.

She gazes at the man before her.

The man, a faint smile playing on his lips, was bleeding from a shattered head.

And even that bloody spectacle felt… sacred.

Just standing there, it was hard to meet his gaze, so sacred was he.

I think I understood why the poor called him a saint.

He had wrought a miracle.

Not simply by magically altering what was difficult to change by magic alone.

If she’d used the theory of primary colors to cast a more potent spell, even she might have altered her own appearance.

But even if she had…

It wouldn’t have erased the twisted hatred and resentment buried deep within her heart.

And it wouldn’t have made those who had once seen her monstrous face look at her with awe and respect.

The man before me pierced through all those impossibilities in one fell swoop.

He solved those problems so simply.

Problems she thought were insurmountable by human effort.

Her heart began to pound uncontrollably.

Erpa had never once known love in her life.

She was monstrous, after all.

Hideous and filthy.

And so she had been, obsessively secluded, only researching.

But no longer.

“Your name. I want to know your name.”

Erpa, voice trembling, seized the saint’s sleeve.

Her face was flushed, feverishly red.

“I am merely one who heals the injured.”

The saint smiled, attempting to shake off her hand.

But she wouldn’t let go.

“Please… please tell me your name.”

She pressed closer, gripping the saint’s hand tightly.

The action sent shivers through the saint’s body.

He trembled like an aspen, a slick of cold sweat coating his hand.

Erpa knew what this was. She had studied miracles to heal herself, after all.

She knew that clerics wielding powerful miracles sometimes displayed such physical symptoms.

And the blood trickling from his forehead suggested a potential infection.

“The Saint is shaking!! It’s an aftereffect of using a miracle!”

Erpa’s cry spurred the Sun Order’s paladins and the White Order’s clerics into simultaneous action.

“He’s experiencing divine throes?”

“Yes! He’s in throes! Sweating and shaking! He needs to rest!”

“Lopus, who has cared for so many of the needy!…”

“Hurry! Prepare a place for him to rest! Neglecting divine throes could lead to irreversible consequences!!”

At those words, the White Order and the Sun Order moved as one.

“The Sun Order is closest! I’ll lead the way!”

“Oh, Saint! Take me on your back!!”

The paladin hefted him up, Erpa and the white order’s priests trailing behind.

“The Saint is ill! Step aside! Make way!!”

The paupers parted the road, and the paladins surged forward with haste.

Erpa followed close behind, as well.

Now, appearances, looks – all of that mattered not at all.

The man carried on his back was her life now.

He’d kissed the left side of her face, a sight she herself found repulsive.

-Live. You are beautiful.

The Saint’s words were branded onto her mind, clear as day.

Running madly, Erpa’s face felt like it would explode.

One thing was certain: it wasn’t just from the strenuous exercise.