Hmm.

I’ve returned to my room and am sifting through the memories I’ve gathered so far.

Recently, half of the sacrifices have come from the Ansellus Kingdom, while the other half are believers. Perhaps because of this, it’s exceedingly rare to find anyone who knows anything about the Yongrang Theocracy.

A few decades ago, the Ansellus Kingdom destroyed Yongrang. I thought many of the sacrifices brought from Ansellus would know something about the Yongrang Theocracy.

However, when I examined their memories, the average person knew nothing. At most, they remembered it as “some strange religion.”

It’s akin to how some Americans don’t even know certain countries exist.

I want to learn more, but luck doesn’t always deliver every piece of information.

Currently, half of the blessed individuals are stationed on the Cogni-Lasve Kingdom front, under Witga’s command. The other half are directly following Hieronymus’s orders in the Ansellus Kingdom.

On both fronts, things aren’t progressing exactly as planned.

The Cogni-Lasve front, led by Witga, seems to be moving toward a truce. Witga is trying everything he can to disrupt and prevent this reconciliation.

The same applies to Hieronymus’s side.

It seems they’ve been moving in a direction that’s too covert and murky. Some of the blessed have been captured and executed. While most of them managed to escape thanks to their abilities, the unblessed have suffered heavy casualties.

Day by day, the situation worsens.

Of course, this is partly because the Ansellus Kingdom has been handling things effectively, but there’s another reason.

Tis-ha.

Yes. That boy who once escaped.

The one who set out for the Ansellus Kingdom, seeking revenge.

But he couldn’t abandon his nature. Along the way, he kept saving people, getting misunderstood, or encountering trouble, forcing him to flee repeatedly.

This cycle repeated many times.

The good deeds he’s done so far may have helped others, but they’ve never benefited him.

At least, not at the time.

However, those seemingly useless good deeds accumulated, eventually providing him with a foundation of trust within the Ansellus Kingdom.

He’s now recognized as an ally in Ansellus. Though he’s still under surveillance, it’s enough for Tis-ha to freely share information about the Future Hope Sect.

This includes details about Hieronymus and even me.

Yes.

The Future Hope Sect’s so-called Apostle of God—a girl who bestows blessings.

He’s explained that receiving my blessing causes one’s hair to turn purple and grants them special abilities.

Since that revelation, the Ansellus Kingdom has started capturing Future Hope Sect members with purple hair and dragging them straight to laboratories.

There, they undergo experiments bordering on torture until death.

I see all of it—the pain, despair, and screams.

Yet all I feel is the anticipation that warmth will soon arrive.

When they die, their warmth comes to me anyway. Though I regret not being able to reap it more efficiently, it feels satisfying when it does come.

I’ve also been able to assess the blessed through these experiments—how much they can endure and how their abilities differ from person to person.

Additionally, the researchers dissecting the blessed often converse, allowing me to glean much.

For example, about magic.

I’ve licked several people who could use magic. Their lights were no different from ordinary humans’, and their warmth varied just as it did with others—some had more, some had less.

The issue is, I can’t perceive mana at all.

When a mage uses magic, I can recall their memories of wielding it. Their perception of mana differs slightly—some feel it keenly, others more faintly—but overall, it’s similar.

However, no matter what I do, I can’t produce magic.

I tried reciting spells while running outside, but I couldn’t sense mana at all. Even mimicking the moment they first learned magic yielded nothing.

It’s as though such a power doesn’t exist for me.

Does this body lack the talent for mana entirely?

Or am I so full that I can’t sense it?

I don’t know.

However, I’ve discovered something.

If a mage receives my blessing, they might wield even greater power.

But thankfully, mages rarely join the Future Hope Sect.

Why? Because mages are inherently part of the upper class.

Special abilities grant power, especially in violent societies.

Magic is no exception.

If everyone could learn magic through effort, it might be different, but magic relies heavily on innate talent.

So, every mage I’ve tasted has been a sacrifice.

I recall there was a two-day period when only mages were offered. Was that an experiment orchestrated by Hieronymus or Hyungkeshni?

But there was no difference.

Sacrifices are sacrifices.

Blessings are blessings.

In truth, there’s no direct connection between sacrifices and blessings in the arrangement between Hieronymus and me.

The one-sacrifice-per-blessing ratio is merely an unspoken rule.

Perhaps Hieronymus worries that guaranteeing one blessing per sacrifice might later hinder negotiations. Like what I did with Andrew—two sacrifices for one blessing.

That’s fine, but greed isn’t good.

Especially if you lack power. Someone could just pour hot soup down your throat and demand “One sacrifice for a hundred blessings.”

Creating a mutually respectful relationship is crucial.

I’m also steadily working on building goodwill for when I’m perceived as truly powerless.

Anyway, let’s return to the Ansellus Kingdom.

The Ansellus Kingdom has labeled the blessed as “corrupted” and devised a method to identify them. It’s not some old witch-detection method.

You know, like throwing them into water—if they float, they’re a bad witch; if they sink, they’re a normal person.

Instead, the Ansellus Kingdom has developed a special device resembling a fan. They sweep it over people to check for corruption.

If someone is blessed, the fan becomes incredibly heavy, nearly impossible to wave.

It seems my presence creates strong resistance.

When tested on a blessed individual, the fan abruptly stops mid-air, as though hitting a stone. Even when pressed down with force, it lowers very slowly.

In other words, it’s a device that can detect the blessed even if they dye their hair.

Fascinating.

Using this method, the Ansellus Kingdom is systematically countering the Future Hope Sect.

Will Hieronymus manage to destroy Ansellus before they succeed?

I don’t care either way. No—actually, I’d prefer if things were delayed a bit. I haven’t gotten close enough to Hieronymus yet.

Heh.

The Future Hope Sect is a cult built by society’s rejects. There’s no way it’ll rise easily to the top.

There are rules and laws.

But greed runs deeper.

Having lost so much, it feels justified to take just a little, doesn’t it?

The resulting overflow has led to dividing people into two groups: those in the Future Hope Sect and those who aren’t. The latter are exploited by the former.

Of course, some have found salvation here.

To an outsider, it may look like mere exploitation, but for those people, it might feel different.

Still, it’s unacceptable.

This place has already crossed the line.

From its inception, it was built on crossing that line.

This place is destined to fall. So before that happens, I must scrape away everything.

Yes, the most important goal.

The method used to summon me.

Oh, but first, there’s an experiment I need to conduct. While there are still three people coming for blessings each day.

When else will I have such a steady stream of opportunities?

I’ve added this experiment to my secondary objectives.

What kind of experiment?

One where I implant information.

The starting point—let’s keep it simple.

First, I’ll introduce the title “Outsider.” Only Hyungkeshni calls me that right now. I’ll try to expand its usage.

While bestowing blessings, I’ll insert specific information.

Will it succeed?

No, I must ensure it does.

Because only then can I create a happier future.

“Hello, Hyungkeshni.”

So, I greeted Hyungkeshni as she returned to the room. She now takes my greetings as a matter of course.

“Yeah, Rebecca. Ugh, what’s Yasle thinking? If he’s going for revenge, he should at least take better care of himself.”

As she entered, she veered left.

That’s where Hyungkeshni’s personal space is. She threw the cloth she had draped over herself onto the sofa, placed her skull staff beside it, and sank into her seat.

“Joanna. The usual, please.”

“Yes, Lady Hyungkeshni.”

Slouching in her chair, she ordered a drink from Joanna.

This means she’s feeling comfortable.

But something she said caught my attention.

“Who is Yasle?”

Still slumped in her chair, Hyungkeshni lazily waved her hand and replied in a languid tone.

“Hieronymus’s real name. Idiot. Even after surviving, he chose revenge. So, he built this place and is overworking himself to death before he can even enact it.”

Ah.

So that’s his real name?

Yasle.

Yes, I’ve memorized it. I’ll need to comb through someone’s memories again. Will I uncover anything new? Still, I can’t afford to slip up here.

Feign ignorance.

Act like I don’t care about the name, even if I know it.

“Are you having a hard time too, Hyungkeshni? Would you like a blessing?”

With faint hope, I posed a question to distract her.

“No need. No matter what happens, I’ll never accept help from something like you.”

Yes, I know. Even though Hyungkeshni’s guard has significantly lowered, it hasn’t disappeared.

She’s indifferent to others but obsessively cautious about herself.

So…

“Understood, Rebecca. I’ll never make a contract with something like you again.”

Sitting there, she glared at me as she spoke.

A witch who’s lived over a hundred years—Hyungkeshni.

Is it because she made a contract with someone? In other words, is Hyungkeshni someone else’s pawn?

But if it’s for warmth, I can take even someone else’s pawn. Time is limited, but there’s still enough. So I say this:

“If things get tough, call me, Hyungkeshni. I’ll come to you.”

Because if you hold the knowledge that summoned me to this world, I won’t let you slip away.

“Keep dreaming.”

At my words, Hyungkeshni grimaced and answered curtly before throwing herself onto the sofa.

Heh.

See? The mention of “Yasle” has flown to the back of her mind.