A Regressor's Bucket List

Chapter 214 : The Saintess (5)

‘…So it really was her. I should have stopped the execution no matter what.’

I had wondered if she was the Saintess, just as Louis had said.

From my perspective, having already experienced the end of the Upper Plane once, it was an undeniable fact that this was the apocalypse the Messiah had spoken of.

After all, when I experienced the events of the apocalypse, the person who most closely resembled the figure sent by the Messiah was the Saintess.

Other than her, there was no one else who could be said to bear a resemblance to the Messiah.

In the first place, in the long history of the Order, the Saintess was the only one who, as a mere priest, had gained recognition on par with the Pope solely through her own abilities.

The Saintess was the most legendary figure, and the only human to have ever approached the Messiah's level.

However.

Even with the Saintess's exceptional traits, that alone wasn't enough to explain certain things if she was truly the one sent by the Messiah.

How should I put it?

It felt like there was a logical gap.

‘…However, none but I and the one sent by my will shall attain Resurrection. The myriad stars of the sky are not eternal; they are but the glimmer of a fleeting day, destined to fade.’

If the Saintess was truly the one sent by the Messiah's will, she should have led the War against Demons to victory.

But contrary to the Messiah's prophecy, she perished on the execution ground.

Given that her end pre-regression was labeled as ‘blasphemer’ or ‘self-proclaimed Resurrector,’ it was a stretch to blindly claim she was the ‘reincarnation of the Messiah.’

Neither conclusion was clear.

There were unexplained parts to the theory that she was the Messiah’s reincarnation.

But to say she wasn’t, there was no one else who could even hold a candle to her.

Thus, the conclusion I reached after much deliberation was a bit ambiguous:

She was indeed the one sent by the Messiah, but she was not the ‘complete savior’.

“Saintess, your memories aren't complete, are they?”

“……”

“So there are parts that are too ambiguous for you to be certain yourself.”

When I questioned the Saintess again, who offered no clear answer, her lips parted as she replied in a slightly hushed voice.

“…That is not for you, a mere human, to judge.”

“……”

“It is a matter that only the Messiah can judge.”

Pfft—

It was a reaction I had somewhat expected.

She herself must have known best that my words were not wrong.

…For her to react this way despite that…

Meant that the probability of my thoughts being correct was high.

After all, this reaction was tantamount to saying that she had volunteered for the execution to confirm for herself that she was the Messiah.

In other words, it meant she didn't know her own true identity.

Sure enough.

After composing her thoughts, the Saintess murmured softly.

“…Whether I am His reincarnation or not is not something that can be known through mere words. Only through death can I prove the sanctity of Resurrection…”

And I didn't listen to the end of her words.

“There's no need to try. You will die.”

“……!”

Because there was no need to listen.

Even without seeing it again, I already knew her end at the execution.

“It's not that I think you aren't the one sent by the Messiah, and I know that the Authority of Purification is derived from the Authority of Resurrection. However, if you go to the execution as planned.”

“……”

“You won't be resurrected, Saintess.”

The Saintess's pupils trembled.

But it seemed she couldn't immediately accept it, as she gaped and tried to form a rebuttal.

“…There have been many prophets in the history of the Order, but the Messiah’s prophecies are not a domain that can be trespassed upon by some paltry foresight ability…”

And I once again cut her off and revealed my identity.

“It's not foresight, it's experience.”

Shrug—

“Because I'm someone who saw it myself.”

“……”

“How this world gets ruined.”

* * *

At first, the Saintess reacted with disbelief, but she soon had no choice but to accept my story.

The reason was simple.

“Three years after the Saintess's execution, defeat in the Northern Subjugation War to recover the Constellations' domains and retrieve the stigmata.”

“……”

“The Order, having failed to reclaim the northern domain, commits more forces than necessary to the southern subjugation war, but that too ends in defeat, falling for Isaac Einstein's scheme. From this point on, the power gap widened rapidly.”

“……”

“Five years after the Saintess's execution, the Eastern Murim Empire and four of the Demon King's Army's corps annihilate each other.”

“……”

“Ten years after the Saintess's execution, the Order's Headquarters falls. The Order's Allied Forces are disbanded.”

“……”

“After the disbandment of the Order's Allied Forces, a Suicide Squad is formed with the Darkest Dungeon as its base camp, waging guerrilla warfare, but the Demon King assassination mission prepared as a decisive blow also…”

“……”

“Fails.”

“……”

“And so, twenty years after the Saintess's execution, all factions belonging to the Order Territory are annihilated.”

Shrug—

“Need more?”

I had recited the series of events that would unfold after her death.

I would have had nothing to say if she had insisted on not believing me, but it seemed the Saintess had realized my story was more than just an empty bluff.

Anyway, even if she asked for more, having experienced it myself, there was no reason I couldn't share more details.

She too must have traveled all over the continent and observed countless types of people.

I figured she would be able to tell that I wasn't telling some absurd lie.

“I… see.”

Well.

For a reincarnator with memories of a past life to not believe a Regressor was hypocritical, to say the least.

Of course, it was a bit different since she didn't seem confident in her own reincarnation.

…Well, anyway.

“…I was about 10 years old.”

It might have sounded out of the blue, but the Saintess’s murmur was the answer to my earlier question: ‘When did you realize it?’

“There were no particular omens. I just knew the moment I woke up one morning. That I possessed His memories.”

“……”

“And what I had to do.”

Ten years old.

Since she became a priest shortly after that, it meant she had lived a completely ordinary life before recalling the Messiah’s memories.

“…That's all. After that, I simply moved according to my mission.”

“This execution, too?”

“……”

Nod—

A beat later.

The Saintess nodded her head.

“It's no different. I have no certainty that I will be resurrected… but either way, I thought it was the path for the Order.”

If she resurrects, she will lead the Order anew as the Messiah’s reincarnation. If she fails, it means she wasn’t the Messiah’s reincarnation, and she would be a false prophet standing in the Order’s way.

Thus, dying would be the right thing to do.

“…I roughly understand the logic.”

It wasn't exactly a wrong way of thinking.

Rather, it was a moment that revealed her noble character.

It was a conclusion reached by thinking only of the Order's future, to the point where her own death had no influence on the choice.

However, what I thought of as the Saintess's 'true identity' was not something that could be so clearly divided.

A fragment of the Messiah.

An incomplete reincarnation.

She was a shard of sorts.

Whether that was done by the Messiah's intention or not, the reason for my speculation was simple.

She was a being capable of wielding the extraordinary power known as the ‘Authority of Purification’.

And there had long been many others who had received fragments from the Messiah and wielded Authority before her.

The Constellations.

All those who wielded overwhelming influence in their respective guardian regions of the Order had received fragments of power from the Messiah to attain their current divinity.

In that they did not possess that power from the beginning, they were closer to 'creations' than 'creators'.

Although they were called gods, they were by no means self-existent beings.

Their roots were in the Messiah, and their Authority stemmed from his power.

In any case, I had a feeling the Saintess's existence wasn't much different from theirs.

Not entirely the real thing, but not a fake, either.

And for me…

“…Let’s get out of here.”

Even if she wasn't the complete version, she was more than enough.

If the Messiah could have returned completely, there would have been no need for someone like me to regress.

Because that was impossible, the situation of the first timeline occurred.

I didn't know the series of truths related to that, nor did I particularly want to.

After all, my job was simply to twist the pre-regression War against Demons and bring about a better ending in this second timeline.

For that, I needed the Saintess, who, even if incomplete, was the one closest to the Messiah.

However.

“…You said I would die, correct?”

As is often the case in life.

Things didn't go as I wished.

“Isn't that proof that I am not the Messiah?”

“……”

“In the end, it's one of the two. Either the person sent by the Messiah, or a self-proclaimed Resurrector who impersonated him.”

“……”

“Whether I am sincere or not is not that important. Among the people who died in heresy trials, there must have been some who truly thought they were the Messiah's reincarnation.”

She wasn't wrong.

But, her words weren't necessary either.

What is needed in an apocalypse on the verge of ruin is a sword, not a justification.

“You saw them too, didn't you, Saintess?”

“…Pardon?”

“The demons wearing crowns.”

“……”

The Vatican, where the Order's Headquarters is located.

I was talking about those who had made contracts with demons there.

Because the Saintess had the eyes to distinguish them.

“If you die, Saintess, what will you do about those people?”

“…Well. The Messiah must have had something in mind…”

Shake shake—

“That oh-so-great Messiah didn't show his face even once in my first timeline. And as a result, the Upper Plane ended up as a plaything in the hands of demons.”

“……”

“If you're going to the execution for the sake of religious righteousness, stop. There's no thought as foolish as that.”

Shrug—

“Because there's someone else who made you think that way.”

“……!”

The Saintess’s brow furrowed again.

She couldn’t understand what I was talking about.

“You might not be aware, but in this world, there’s a meticulous and terrifying bastard who can control people’s lives as he pleases.”

“……”

“He can even decide what they think. Those demonic puppets you saw in the Vatican? They’re all his marionettes, just another part of his scheme.”

I hadn't intended to bring this up.

But it seemed better to get it out of the way, even if it prolonged our conversation.

“It's called the Saintess Hunt Project.”

“……!”

“Have you ever heard of it?”