The Holy Child’s Condemnation

“Your actions are not a path to glory at all,” Anto declared before the assembled group. “This is nothing more than a form of foolishness and self-indulgence.”

“Anto…” Ilivy watched the young nun speak, before Anto stepped forward.

“I am Anto… Anto Colmensin, a Holy Light wielder from a border town, an innate awakener of the Holy Light.”

“An innate Holy Light awakening?” The Priest gazed at the youthful presence before him, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I haven’t heard of such a thing in many years.”

“Yet, one stands before you now,” Mula interjected from the side. “Furthermore, young Anto possesses an even more crucial identity, one that warrants you abandoning this suicidal act. Knight Ilivy, may you reveal it?”

“Father, you might find this unbelievable, but I can unequivocally tell you now,” Ilivy stated. “God has not forsaken this continent, nor has He forsaken us. Our sins cannot be redeemed through such methods. Instead, they must be atoned for through more significant and righteous means. Anto… Lord Anto, is the inheritor of the Heart of Holy Light.”

She paused, looking at the Priest.

“The wielder of the Holy Light Flame.”

“The Holy Light Flame… you need not use such words to sway us, esteemed Knight,” the Priest replied. “The Holy Light Flame was extinguished entirely over a decade ago. With His Holiness’s demise, everything came to an end. How could it possibly…”

“Then you may witness it with your own eyes,” Ilivy said, her voice firm. “For a miracle is about to unfold. Lord Anto stands before us now; he is the true inheritor of light, he is the Holy Child.”

“…Display it,” the Priest commanded, his gaze at Anto growing serious. “Let us see.”

Anto, having heard him, extended a hand. He took a deep breath, and within his palm, a flame composed entirely of light elements bloomed, resembling fire itself. When that radiance appeared, the expressions on everyone’s faces shifted. The Priest observed the flame, and beyond the astonishment or fear that might grip an ordinary person, his own emotions were entirely different. As he beheld the light, a profound longing and…

“Father?” Alaiya looked at the Old Priest beside her. Tears streamed down his face, one drop after another, reflecting the depth of his current emotion.

The tears carried both relief and other sentiments.

“After all these years, to truly feel this light again,” the Old Priest murmured, then shook his head. “Unbelievable, truly unbelievable.”

“But you must believe it now,” Ilivy asserted. “My comrades, you need not continue this futile atonement. For the Divine has never abandoned us, and our faith… has not betrayed us.”

“Indeed, light has always existed. The sun rises every day as usual, and people die normally every day; these are the fundamental laws of nature. Yet, even so, we have turned our backs on this light,” the Old Priest began. “We have our own vows to fulfill. In this abyss lies an even deeper, darker presence. If no one guides or stops them, they might utterly destroy the world we love, the world we hope and anticipate. That is why we have stood guard here, watching over everything we know we can protect.”

He spoke, then shook his head.

“Knight, you should take him, take him away from here. This place is already too dangerous; a Holy Child should not set foot here. Please, let him leave, if you can. If possible, send him to the watchtower in the borderlands. Your message can reach more of my brethren; that might be the right path. But someone must block this path. We do not intend to venture deeper, but the abyss must be monitored. After the witch’s barrier vanished, the battles here are beyond description in their ferocity. Can you leave this place? You shouldn’t be here.”

“The same applies to you,” Anto’s voice was earnest. “I can sense that each of you is in a terrible state. Prolonged combat has inevitably led to mutations in your bodies from the continuous absorption of demonic aura. You need help, and my arrival is precisely at the best time.”

Anto extended a hand.

“Allow me to heal and bless you, if I may? You need this light; you need someone to help you. To stand against that abyss and that darkness.”

“…But we…” The Priest listened as Anto approached step by step. The Priest and the others’ faces showed expressions of alarm.

“Do not come any closer, Holy Child. We have forsaken that faith, we have betrayed the expectations others had of us. We are no longer worthy to receive this grace; we are defiled. Please, do not approach and associate with us.”

“How ridiculous,” Anto said, lifting their head. The golden-haired youth with a fair countenance looked up at them and then declared:

“Who handed you this indictment? Who told you that everything must be this way, that you must bear a responsibility that isn’t yours? Is it merely out of guilt and kindness? Then the ones who truly ought to bear all of this are not you. You are warriors, every single one of you who dares to confront that terrifying abyss in such a place. You are true warriors and fighters in every sense. Not one of you is foul or shameful, and not one of you should abandon everything and enact such meaningless self-exile.”

“I do not know if I can pardon you on behalf of your so-called God. The crucial point is whether you can pardon yourselves. But what I wish to say here contains not a single word of blame. What I see here is a group of warriors, the most needed in this era, in this place—a group who truly still cling to their faith, fight, and protect others. Even if slandered by others, they continue to do what is right. For such warriors to not receive a just evaluation, or even a simple act of care, that is what truly makes one want to shout,” Anto said, walking up to them. “Whether others can judge you, I do not know. But at least in my eyes, you have been without fault from the very beginning. You deserve my blessing, everyone, nothing more.”