EIITAB - Chapter 61 The Power Of God
Even if it is Trampled and Broken
"Jerome! Stay still!"
Dean raised his voice and silenced Jerome. He wrinkled his face in annoyance and pointed at the boy with his chin.
"Someone shut that bastard's mouth."
At Dean's words, all of his subordinates approached Jerome and covered his mouth.
"Boy, just stay still."
He was wounded, but his hands were strong. Soon, Jerome, whose mouth was blocked, shouted,
"Eup! No!"
A voice was heard. Hestia looked at the faces of Jerome, Aslan, and the knights one by one with a rather embarrassed expression.
"Wait. Sir Jerome is a wounded man, and if you treat him this harshly...."
"It's okay because he's not going to die right away."
Hestia narrowed her eyes even further at Dean's firm and stiff words but was unable to say anything more.
"More than that, Princess."
Dean, Martin, and the rest of the senior knights stood toward Hestia. It was a very serious look.
"Are you sincere about what you just said?"
Hestia straightened her back. After straightening her posture, she nodded her head gravely with an extremely solemn face.
"Yes. I'm serious."
She continued, desperately hoping that her true feelings would reach the knights.
"I don't want to let Sir Jerome down here."
Dean looked at her face calmly for a moment as if he was assessing something, then suddenly pursed his lips. Dean's head, which seemed like it would never bend anytime soon, bowed forward. Starting with him, Martin and the other knights' necks were also bent towards Hestia one by one.
"Jerome...please."
".....!"
Dean kept his head down and continued talking.
"By this time, we had no choice but to accept death."
Despite his calm voice, Dean occasionally furrowed his eyebrows as if admitting this was unfamiliar and burdensome. The pain that could not be helped was evident from that appearance. When he joins the Order of Kalathi, the first thing he learns is that he said, considers it an honor to die on the ice. Be thankful that you can protect your family, your colleagues, and this land.
But it was closer to a kind of brainwashing.
'Is there anyone who is not afraid of death?'
On the surface, it was just a consideration on both sides. He hoped that those left behind to die would not feel guilty just because they were alive. Those who survive have nothing to give to those who leave but respect and admiration, and he said that death was noble. But everyone knew. Because there is no way to live. So, he Ignored it. But for the first time, he saw hope.
His mouth seemed to be dry, so Dean moistened his lips with his tongue several times. His words kept stuttering as if they couldn't keep up with the speed of his heart.
"But since you say he has a chance to live, I want to grab that rope with all my might and hang on. If you can, please save this guy."
So, no matter how much Hestia hated him to death, he could bow his head as much as she wanted. He could also get down on his knees. If only she could save his companion who had been with him through life and death. Any belief could be easily broken. He was able to turn a blind eye to age-old resentment and hatred for a moment.
"Please. Please save him."
Dean arched his back further, and Hestia's eyes widened even further. She knew as well as Aslan that his knights hated her. So Hestia had no intention of receiving submission or recognition from them. She didn't really have the will to ask for anything like that.
'But the knights came out first like this.'
Hestia's expression soon became determined. The fact that they treated her with such courtesy was proof of how much they cared for Jerome.
Dean took a deep breath and lifted his upper body again. He began to explain Jerome's situation to Hestia.
"The only remaining member of Jerome's family is his grandmother, who will soon turn eighty. He lost his parents and young sisters during the Great War."
"..... Okay."
Hestia nodded her head, holding her breath. It was okay not to listen to his words anymore. Because it would be harder for her to find one of Aslan's knights without a story.
"That guy was the worst of the worst. He joined the Order of Kalathi solely through grit."
Aslan also smiled, crossing his arms around her as if he was remembering that time. In fact, he had no intention of accepting Jerome as his knight. Since the boy had a grandmother to take care of, he took that into account and arranged for him to attend to affairs in the inner room.
But Jerome rejected it. He was absent-mindedly absent from work, and followed the knights around, starting from the horseman. In the end, it was Aslan and his three lieutenants who raised the white flag and accepted.
Their sincerity touched Hestia's heart. She nodded her head with a serious expression on her face, determined to make it happen. But when she turned her gaze back to Jerome, the boy shouted even angrier.
"Stop it, lieutenant! It's my life! I will decide my end! Leave me alone! This is how I die!"
"You crazy bastard!"
Dean, who was calmly dealing with Hestia, wrinkled his face and raised his voice at Jerome. Dean walked towards him hurriedly and searched in Jerome's arms without anyone stopping him.
"Ugh. Why are you like this!"
"You damn bastard!"
Dean quickly found something and held it out in front of Jerome with wide eyes. The floral embroidered handkerchief was crumpled in Dean's hands.
"Then why did you buy this!"
Jerome seemed speechless and could not say anything, just muttered and then closed his mouth. Dean continued to shout with wide eyes.
"Are you going to die without even being able to give it to your grandmother after choosing it for a long time as a gift?"
Did it ever occur to him that It was all a matter of judgment? Jerome got angry again and shouted.
"If I die, lieutenant, please bring it to her! That's okay then!"
"What kind of person would even dare to ask a senior to run an errand for him? Did we teach you that way?"
Dean looked even angrier and shouted loudly.
"Go back on your own feet and tell your grandmother!"
It seemed like he couldn't bring himself to throw it away, so Dean grabbed the handkerchief as hard as he was squeezing it and then stuffed it back into Jerome's inner pocket.
All Hestia could hear was the sound of them grumbling at each other as they couldn't control their anger.
Aslan, who was watching her turn, gently placed his hand on Hestia's shoulder. When purple eyes looked up at him, he opened his mouth with difficulty and asked with a stiff face.
"Is it really possible to fix it?"
Hestia tried to calm her breathing. Here she should not say that she is not sure. She had to take responsibility for her own words. She took a deep breath as if to strengthen her resolve and then nodded her head heavily with a solemn look on her face.
"I can't make it completely better."
Before resignation and disappointment could appear on his face, Hestia quickly put her next words into her mouth.
"But he can live. I'll do my best."
Aslan's ribcage swelled. He was unable to speak for a moment and then closed his eyes.
"In that case... done."
If only he could live, then, Aslan lifted his quivering eyelids.
"Please take care of Jerome."
Hestia nodded her head. This time, Jerome couldn't resist. However, he was turning his head away from her in dissatisfaction.
'Maybe he doesn't have the strength left to resist anymore.'
Hestia impatiently placed her hands over her boy's wound.
"El Rapa, the greatest being. I dare to borrow your power."
As she closed her eyes and recited a short prayer, white light burst out of her hands. Afterward, a subtle golden energy began to flow.
"Cleanse away the filth, and bring light in the place occupied by darkness..."
The more she used her power, the more cold sweat rolled down Hestia's forehead. Her face was also becoming increasingly pale. But she didn't quit. The dark red blood that was bubbling from Jerome's shoulder suddenly turned bright red. Then the bleeding stopped and new flesh began to fill up.
Jerome, who had been ignoring his treatment with his eyes closed, looked back at Hestia with surprised eyes as the pain that had been bothering him slowly disappeared.
Suddenly, things around him became quiet. The eyes of the knights watching Hestia were becoming mysterious.
***
Hestia glanced down at her hands in the carriage.
'Strange.'
She quietly clenched and unclenched her fists and sighed. Her physical condition was worse. Her stamina had long since run out. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that Hestia was unexpected.
'I never thought I could use my power this far.'
It took her a lot longer than she expected, and she was able to exert her strength. At first, Hestia thought that just purifying the demon's poison would be difficult. However, not only was the poison purified, but Jerome's wounds were also healed to some extent.
Aslan and Dean personally inspected Jerome's wounds and even said that they would have to rehabilitate him for a while, but that if she took good care of him, he would be able to hold her sword again.
At that time, Hestia calmly said that it was fortunate, but she thought it was strange the whole time.
'I wasn't like this in my last life.'
As the days went by, her energy diminished, and her power also ran out. So she thought this life would be like that too.
Didn't she also say that in the oracle that Anessa received from God?
'I am a flower that bloomed incorrectly.'
But she couldn't understand why she was able to use more power than before.
"... Cough."
But suddenly something hot rose up inside her. Hestia hurriedly covered her mouth with her handkerchief at the familiar sensation. He glanced across from her and saw Angela not waking up, banging her head against the wall of her carriage.
'Thank God.'
Hestia let out a sigh of relief inside her, muffling her voice as she continued to cough. When she had finally calmed down, she took off her handkerchief and found it soaked in her blood.
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