Chapter 11: The Bridge of Salvation (3)

The unspoken longing lingered on my lips, but it soon turned into a faint smile. Just seeing him, even from afar, gave me a sense of strength.

“…Do you miss your family?”

Father Edwin asked with a nonchalant expression.

“It would be a lie if I said I didn’t.”

“Do you plan to return to the Duke’s estate after the plan is complete?”

“No. I intend to live as a nun for the rest of my life.”

I shook my head with a bitter smile, and Father Edwin raised an eyebrow as he spoke.

“I have to ask why. You could return to the home you miss so dearly if you wished.”

“…To atone for my sins.”

If I manage to see the plan through, I will spend the rest of my life paying for the sin of disrupting the divine order that was set by God.

“You truly are a mystery, impossible to understand.”

Father Edwin sighed, giving me a look that I could only answer with an awkward smile. 

The carriage came to a halt, and I quickly stepped outside. A thick, dust-filled fog obscured my vision.

“Cough, cough!”

Coughs echoed around me as I covered my mouth with my hand and pressed forward. When the dust finally settled, the full view of the collapsed bridge was revealed.

The Bridge of Salvation, which had stood firm just a few days ago, had crumbled into a pitiful heap of rubble, like a sandcastle washed away by the tide.

“Dear God…”

The clergy of Archelio Monastery stood in stunned silence, staring at the ruins of the collapsed bridge.

“With such a large bridge fallen, the people must already be…”

Though the rescue team sent by the palace was searching for survivors, hope seemed distant, even to them.

“Licia, it’s dangerous over there.”

As I quietly observed the wreckage, some nuns approached and gently pulled me away.

“We should start by distributing bread to the people. It looks like many of them haven’t eaten in days.”

Yes, feeding the starving residents was the immediate priority. The large sacks provided by the palace were filled to the brim with rye bread. I grabbed one of the sacks and headed towards the slums.

“Only one per person.”

The line of people waiting for food seemed endless, and it was clear that there wouldn’t be enough bread for everyone. The starving residents, desperate to not lose their share, quickly snatched the bread with dusty hands.

“…I’m still hungry.”

A small hand was extended towards me, and I looked down at it. It was the same boy who had just received a piece of bread. His face was hidden under a faded cap, but I recognized him instantly.

“We only have a limited number of loaves, so I can only give out one per person.”

I wanted to give him more, but if I started handing out extra bread, there would surely be someone left without even a crumb.

“Tch!”

In an instant, the boy snatched the bread from my hands and bolted away.

“No, stop!”

I reached out towards his retreating back, but the other residents, who had been waiting silently with their heads down, suddenly turned their sharp gazes towards me.

“Sister, did that boy get two loaves?”

Without thinking, I nodded. And that was when it happened—a piercing scream erupted from within the seemingly endless line of people.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The boy was being brutally kicked and stomped upon, his small frame curling up like a pill bug in a desperate attempt to protect himself. His faded shirt was quickly covered in dark footprints, each one larger than his thighs.

“Stop it! Please!”

The boy’s body trembled violently under the relentless assault. The blows kept coming, and no matter how much I pleaded, the violence didn’t cease.

“Please stop! I made a mistake. It was my mistake…”

I rushed over and wrapped my arms around the tattered boy’s frail body. He looked no older than eight or nine, his small frame trembling in my embrace.

“That brat has a terrible habit of stealing! If we don’t nip it in the bud now, he’ll only get worse!”

They pointed accusatory fingers at the boy, who whimpered in pain. His forehead, scraped raw from the rough ground, was red and swollen. I gently brushed his matted hair away and asked softly,

“…What has he stolen before?”

“Two weeks ago, he stole three potatoes, and four days ago, he took five radishes!”

To think that such brutal kicks were delivered over a few potatoes and radishes… This poor child, starving and desperate, had only wanted to fill his empty belly.

“…You don’t understand, Sister. When he steals, someone else has to go hungry. He doesn’t deserve any sympathy.”

Could they be right? I didn’t want to believe it.

“…Sister, I’m hungry.”

The weight of his theft might have been heavy, but the punishment of violence against a child seemed unbearably cruel.

“…It’s all my fault. I made a mistake.”

Victor, your people are suffering so much, and yet you showed no concern until the bridge collapsed. Why?

“Sister Alicia.”

Someone tapped my left shoulder. Looking up through the hazy sky, I saw Edwin standing there.

“The Saintess has arrived from the palace.”

He gently took the small boy from my arms.

“I’ll handle the rest of the distribution.”

“But…!”

“I’ll also take care of treating the boy’s injuries.”

Edwin’s hand rested on the child’s thin, blood-stained cheek. Though his fingers were now smeared with blood and dust, there wasn’t a trace of disgust in his eyes.

A ray of sunlight broke through the dusty air, revealing the face of a noble Saint who tended to the weak even in the depths of despair.

‘Yes, if it’s him, I can trust him.’

His white robe fluttered in the sandy breeze, evoking the image of God’s disciple as described in the scriptures.

“…Please take care of it,” I finally said.

Determined, I stood up and made my way toward the collapsed debris. This was my chance to change my future and that of the impoverished people—an opportunity that was now right in front of me.

In the thick, dusty air, the imperial family’s red flag fluttered with authority. I caught sight of Abigail, carefully descending from the carriage with the help of knights.

“Your Holiness, we’ve had no success for hours.”

The relief team shook their heads in defeat, their faces showing signs of giving up. Abigail’s face, as she gazed at the wreckage, turned as pale as a corpse. Her eyes desperately searched for someone, like a lost child, until they finally found me standing at a distance.

‘Abigail…’

I nodded at her with unwavering resolve.

“If the Saintess could point us to a location, we’ll focus our search there.”

“…There could be people trapped beneath the rubble. I’d like to go around with someone small and light to help me look,” Abigail said, glancing in my direction. The relief team, composed of muscular men, exchanged uneasy glances.

“If it’s alright, may I assist you?” I offered, stepping forward.

Holding the empty bread sack, I approached them, and they looked down at me. One of the relief knights scanned me from head to toe before turning to Abigail.

“She’s a nun from Archelio Monastery, here for relief work.”

Abigail looked at me and spoke in a curt tone, “…I’d prefer her.”

“The Crown Prince has ordered that civilians are not to enter,” the relief knight captain responded, clearly intending to refuse. Since when did the Crown Prince start caring so much about civilian safety? It was laughable.

“However, in urgent situations like this, flexibility is key. After all, a nun is not just a civilian; she’s a servant who has vowed to sacrifice herself for the marginalized,”

a familiar voice interrupted, causing me to look up. There, with the sky as a backdrop, I recognized the long brown hair of Jaylon, who had recently boasted in a letter about passing the knight’s exam.

“As the Saintess said, it’s better for someone lighter like a nun to go up,”

Jaylon added with a smile, extending his hand toward me. I grasped his firm hand and climbed up onto the wreckage.

“Here’s how we’ll proceed,”Jaylon continued.

“If the Saintess can pinpoint where the missing are buried, this nun will climb up and check for signs of life. If she finds any, the relief team will then move in to rescue them.”

Abigail’s clear voice settled into the murky dust-laden air. She leaned in close to my ear and whispered softly.

“…Please, Alicia.”

“Understood, Saintess.”

Without hesitation, I climbed onto the debris. The same spot where, long ago, I stood as an ineffectual Saintess, only today could I finally reclaim it. The sprawling wreckage and the humid air of the despairing slum below stretched out before me. To the untrained eye, the ruins all looked alike, but I pressed forward, navigating the debris.

The closer I got to the toppled wreckage, the more I could hear the cries of the slum’s people—impossible sounds. As I reached out to touch the debris, a deep sense of sorrow spread through my mind. Yes, according to my memory, it should be here…

“Saintess, is this the place?” I asked Abigail. She nodded, her face tense with anxiety. With all my strength, I began lifting the large piece of debris that covered the site.

There will be no mistakes this time. This time, I will save them with my own hands.

“I see a hand!”

I screamed at the top of my lungs. Instantly, the relief team erupted into action. Despite searching for hours without finding a single trace of life, in less than ten minutes after the Saintess arrived, we found a missing person.

Two members of the rescue team hurriedly stepped onto the debris at my words.

“There’s really a hand! The Saintess has found the victim using her divine power!”

As they dug through the rubble, they uncovered a man, curled up, suffering from severe dehydration but otherwise only lightly bruised.

“It’s a miracle! The Empire’s Saintess has found the missing person with her divine power!”

We continued to discover more survivors, all unharmed, with not a single broken bone among them.

“Indeed, it’s the blessing of the gods! No, it’s the Saintess’s blessing!”

But it was too soon to be relieved. One more person was still missing. I retraced my faint memories, then used all my strength to lift a large piece of debris.

‘This should be the place…’

But there was nothing—no missing person, not even a strand of hair. As confusion spread across my face, I noticed Abigail’s fingers trembling slightly.

There could be no margin for error. This was my one chance, a deal made with the gods at the cost of Abigail’s life…

Closing my eyes against the stinging dust, I took a deep breath. The unpleasant air seeping into my lungs brought a wave of discomfort.

“It seems there are no more,” I finally said.

The voices of the rescue team grated on my nerves, but I struggled to maintain my composure, focusing on my breathing. As I let myself blend into the musty wind of dust, I suddenly heard the faint, trembling voice of a child.

“Please… help me.”

The voice wasn’t far away. I opened my eyes, and as I did, the scattered debris began to clear, guiding me to the source of the sound. Without hesitation, I reached toward the place where the light led me.

In that instant, I saw a slight movement beneath a seemingly immovable pile of debris. I quickly began scraping away the dust with my bare hands, even as my fingernails cracked and beads of blood welled up. Despite the pain, I pressed on, my hands working frantically.

“There’s someone here!” I shouted as the blurred face of a child appeared through the debris. Tears welled up in my eyes as the rescue team rushed to dig the child out.

“Oh, dear God…” I whispered as I gently lifted the small, fragile body out of the wreckage. The child’s tender skin was scraped, bleeding, and covered in dust, forming scab-like clumps.

‘God, you have placed such a heavy burden on this fragile child. If I could, I would take this suffering upon myself. Please, grant them only the most glorious salvation.’

Though the child had no life-threatening injuries, their small body was covered in wounds, a testament to the ordeal they had endured.

A wave of guilt came over me. I had used an innocent life to create an opportunity to validate Abigail’s divine powers.

My arms trembled as I held the child close, consumed by the burning guilt. Then, Abigail approached me and gently took the child into her arms.

“We need to get them treated quickly.”

The Saint in her pure white dress, embracing the vulnerable. It was a scene like something out of a painting.

The impoverished people who had gathered around the collapsed bridge were staring at her in a daze.

“…The Bridge of Salvation.”