The Price of Power

The door of the humble shepherd’s hut, nestled at the village’s edge, swung open, and a figure stumbled clumsily inside.

‘Hoo… Ugh!’ The instant he crossed the threshold, his strength abandoned him, and he crumpled to the floor.

In truth, he had felt utterly drained for some time, his sheer will alone having propelled him those last few steps.

Lying there, he perceived the flame not merely in his grasp, but consuming his very essence, a relentless fire searing his already frayed nerves.

Every inch of his skin registered an alien sensation as a torrent of energy surged uncontrollably within him, threatening to rend his body limb from limb.

‘Hoo-hoo… Water… Water…’ In that desperate moment, nothing else mattered; his parched lips cried out for moisture.

He crawled to one side, directly pouring the freshly drawn well water into his mouth, yet before long, he vomited it back up.

He couldn’t comprehend this peculiar predicament, but he knew it was a harsh side effect of wielding his abilities.

Perhaps, as Eric often remarked, his body simply wasn’t built to sustain such immense power, or at the very least, he had yet to fully adapt.

‘…This is some… blessing? …Hah.’ As the tempest of energy within him gradually subsided, the boy, utterly spent, slumped against the wooden wall of the hut.

He mumbled the words others used to describe the Holy Light, an inadvertent sneer curling his lips.

This blessing, by all rights, should not have been his, yet he undeniably wielded this formidable power.

The witch Hillevi harbored a deep loathing for this innate flame, recognizing it as the power of the one who had murdered Livia, the indelible mark left by that individual.

He himself, through his very existence, served as a constant reminder and torment to Hillevi, a stark echo of the Livia she had lost.

‘You… you possess the same visage as her,’ the witch murmured, gazing at her younger self.

‘But your eyes… why do they harbor the same defilement as his?’

In her eyes, he was an impure existence, a stain.

Thus, Hillevi had once dedicated herself to purging him, to making him ‘pure’ in her own twisted way.

Her methods bordered on the pathological: dressing him exclusively in feminine attire, painstakingly teaching him feminine etiquette—but these were merely superficial.

In her true madness, she had even attempted to blind him.

From his earliest childhood, she had relentlessly administered various potent poisons, hoping to mold him into her desired image.

Perhaps, beneath it all, her extreme measures were simply a desperate, misguided attempt to preserve him in an eternal state of childhood.

Yet, he had never conformed to her will.

Whenever he suffered a fatal injury or lost a limb, that sacred flame would surge forth, regenerating his lost body.

Poisons, too, proved futile; he would merely feel the raging inferno within him, impervious to their deadly effects.

This was the Holy Light Flame, a blessing that sounded incredibly potent, yet those who truly possessed it would never perceive it as a stroke of fortune.

Fortunately, she no longer remembered any of this.

Anto drew a deep, ragged breath, his current state one of profound weakness.

He longed only to find a comfortable spot and surrender to a deep slumber, yet despite this yearning, the pressing matters at hand did not simply vanish.

He fixed his gaze upon the door, quietly awaiting its opening:

‘You’ve arrived?’

‘I’ve been here for a while,’ the white-haired elder Eric remarked as he entered the shepherd’s hut and approached Anto.

‘Watching you stumble clumsily into the house, I knew you had pushed yourself too far.’

‘You’re feeling pretty awful, aren’t you?’

‘At the very least, I can’t claim to be well,’ Anto replied.

Eric walked over, gently helping the weakened boy to his feet before settling him onto the bed.

‘In this state, just how many demonic creatures did you purify?’

‘Roughly… a quarter of the forest?’ Anto chuckled, a faint, weary smile touching his lips.

‘This was indeed their largest offensive yet.

Had I not intervened, both the watchtower and the forest would have become fallen territories today.’

‘But you are here,’ Eric responded, his voice grave.

‘Although… I have no faith in your god, it is undeniable that your presence here offers the finest protection for this border forest region.’

‘There’s no need to phrase it like that,’ Anto replied.

‘I don’t believe either.’

‘…Even with this power?’

‘Even with this power,’ Anto articulated slowly.

‘Teacher, you always taught me that everything must be examined through a scientific, rational lens.

Whether this power truly originates from a god lacks any objective perspective in itself.

The Holy Light, after all, could just as easily be interpreted as a specialized method of manipulating light elements through sheer spiritual force.

Did a god bestow the Holy Light upon humanity, or did humanity, by possessing the Holy Light, create the concept of a god?

Are things inherently imbued with meaning, or do they derive meaning from our perception?

All such profound questions demand rigorous verification.’

‘…Oh? So you truly took my words to heart,’ Eric chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

‘You know, when I uttered these very thoughts in prison, that Inquisitor struck me several times for ‘daring to defile our God.”

‘…In fact, it wasn’t the Otherworld Travelers who defiled the divine,’ Anto stated slowly, his voice calm.

‘It was the arrogant believers themselves… who ultimately defiled their own god.’

‘I understand,’ Eric nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face.

‘Your current insights are remarkably profound.

What do you intend to do next?

The Council’s representatives have already arrived, and I can discern that their presence is unequivocally because of you.

Furthermore, I’ve inquired with others—some old acquaintances within the Council—and this intelligence wasn’t unearthed by the Council itself.

Rather, it was initially discovered by the churches, and then the Council intercepted the confidential documents.’

‘…Should I say the Council is too formidable, or the Church too incompetent?’

‘A bit of both, I suppose,’ Eric replied with a wry smile.

‘But one thing is certain: your whereabouts are no longer safe.

Just by observing your condition, I can gauge the immense power you’ve wielded.

Someone like Tikka would instantly discern that the Holy Child they’ve been seeking—no, the Holy Child everyone is searching for—is right here.

Fortunately, they remain unaware of your true identity.’

‘So, should I… take flight now?’ Anto asked, his gaze meeting Eric’s.

‘In your current state, where do you imagine you could possibly run?

Fleeing now would only serve to confirm your identity to them.

Old Jack and I have already secured a room for you at the tavern in the neighboring village.

For the next few months, you’ll be tending sheep and performing odd jobs there.

You absolutely must not return to the forest, nor allow anyone from outside to learn of your connection to Livia.

To the villagers, you are merely Hillevi’s and my apprentice, and that is all they must know.

I will legitimize your presence there by claiming I’ve sent you to gather herbs, and I will personally handle the others, ensuring the Council harbors no suspicion towards you.

Wait for my signal.’

‘But Hillevi…’

‘I will look after her.’ At this moment, Eric’s brow furrowed.

‘…Perhaps I cannot care for her as meticulously as you do, but I can certainly arrange for a maid from within the Council… provided Liliana still considers me an old friend.’

‘I see…’

‘Once the storm passes and I’ve settled matters here, I will come for you.

Then, we shall leave Sinka together.’

‘…Where to?’

‘Anywhere,’ Eric replied, a wistful note in his voice.

‘I still have some savings; we can wander wherever we please.

I don’t have much time left for wandering anyway.

If it’s possible, let’s journey to Tylanmir, to the Ancient Tree of the Wood Elf Feather—that, I believe, should be the ultimate sanctuary for all mages.’

Having spoken, Eric rose.

‘That’s all I had to say.

I’ll be going now; get some good rest.’