Chapter 57

༺ The First Letter (57) ༻

The corridors of the temple were quiet. More often than not, those who sought God loved this silence.

This was because humans tended to forget how to use words as they became more desperate. A good example of this was the guttural cry of a parent who lost a child, which closely resembled the cry of an animal.

As the intensity of emotions increased, the residue of emotions that could not be put into words increased as well. The torrent of emotions that crossed the limit couldn’t be defined by one name, nor could it be classified as an individual emotions. Only the person themself could fully feel the desperation––no one else could fully fathom that sentiment.

For this reason, people went to the temple to find God. Because the only living being who could recognize and understand the pain caused by their burnt, tethered heart was God. It was for this reason that the home of the Heavenly God Arus was always open for the sick and needy.

I was there for the same reason. I solemnly contributed to the silence of the temple as I waited in their halls.

It wasn’t the overwhelming emotion that silenced me. I just didn’t want to utter a single word because I felt small and defeated.

Seria’s wound, from an objective point of view, was not that deep. ‘It must have been an accident,’ I thought. It seemed like Celine was also visibly taken aback.

On the way to the temple, Seria spoke to me hesitantly as I walked beside her while supporting her injured body.

“Se-Senior Ian?”

“Yes, Seria.”

Although I tried to speak to her kindly, my voice came out a bit colder than usual. It was because my anger hadn’t subsided yet.

At that time, I quickly ran towards the source of the uproar when I heard that Celine and Seria were fighting. I thought at first that it may have been an argument, but at some point I realized that their fight had caused some chaos.

I was informed that the fighting involved swords. When I arrived at the training field, I was only able to fixate on the scene in front of me.

A sword that dug into Seria’s forearm. Seria, on her knees, with moans spilling out from her lips. Celine grabbed onto the handle of said sword.