IRM Chapter 15

Before the last traces of sunset glow fell, Ji Chi and his two companions finally reached a hunter’s cabin in the center of the forest.

Gentle Wind Forest was scattered with many such small wooden huts, providing a relatively safe resting place for adventurers who couldn’t make it to town at night.

The cabin Ji Chi’s group found looked like it had just seen off a batch of overnight guests. Fresh, dry branches were stacked in the woodshed by the door, and the ashes in the fire pit hadn’t yet been scattered by the wind.

Saintess Coralie tethered their magical beast to a tree beside the cabin, clapped her hands and surveyed the simple environment. “I’ll go into the forest to find something to eat. You can gather some firewood nearby.”

Those who frequently adventured knew that while the items in hunter’s cabins were free to use, unless one was truly desperate, any resources used had to be replenished afterward—this was an unspoken rule among all adventurers.

Ji Chi roamed the nights in the game, killing gods and demons alike without concern. Evan, following the Church’s missionary work, also understood some rules. But how could a Saintess, who had been supported by numerous monks and nuns in the holy cathedral, be so familiar with these outdoor adventure procedures?

Even though Saintess Coralie no longer concealed anything now, Evan still didn’t dare think too deeply about it. The collapse of his faith was only a small part of the reason—he knew that if the Church discovered all this, what awaited Saintess Coralie would definitely not be anything good.

Ji Chi didn’t think so much about it. His mindset was stable, and he calmly accepted this other side of Saintess Coralie.

He reached out to lift the small undead, who was huddled like a quail, down from the magical beast, asking gently, “Let me go to the forest instead. It’s still dangerous at night.”

“No need.” Saintess Coralie shook her head in refusal, taking several items from her item pouch and placing them in her personal pocket for emergencies.

By the dim moonlight, Ji Chi vaguely saw a scroll that looked like it was made of parchment—it appeared very much like a summoning scroll that only summoners possessed.

After checking her personal items, Saintess Coralie pursed her lips and glanced at the two of them. “Take care of yourselves. If you encounter anything, just hide in the house and wait for me to return…”

As if finding these words too sentimental, Saintess Coralie wrinkled her face in distaste, turned and walked away. But before leaving, she suddenly stopped, turned back toward Ji Chi and let out a cold laugh. “Take good care of the child.”

After delivering that parting shot, she finally relaxed completely and disappeared into the forest shadows.

Ji Chi, with Evan standing stiffly to his left and the small undead held by his right hand: “…”

Fine then.

The two rather useless men looked at each other and silently began collecting firewood around the area.

Ji Chi placed the last piece of wood on the dark campfire ashes, casually waved his finger, and a bright fireball flew from his fingertip, lighting up the small clearing in front of the hunter’s cabin.

The flickering flames drove away the slight chill of the forest night, and the shadowy trees around them were illuminated with a warm glow.

Evan casually brushed off the dirt and ash on his hands, then slumped down wearily beside the campfire, not caring at all about dirtying his cloak.

He stared at the fire pit in a daze, his face showing undisguised exhaustion.

After traveling such a long distance, being jolted for so long, and nearly meeting the God of Light face to face, he clearly felt that his mental faculties had been overdrawn.

A black shadow moved tirelessly in his peripheral vision. Evan slowly turned his head to look—it was Ji Chi, who had roughly cleaned the interior of the cabin and was now bending down, speaking softly with the small undead.

Ji Chi unhurriedly questioned the small undead, extracting the true situation of Bien Village with just a few words. Under the small undead’s horrified gaze, he walked thoughtfully toward the campfire.

Noticing that a gaze had been watching him, he looked up and asked Evan, “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

As Ji Chi asked, he found several clean leaves, neatly spread them on the ground, then sat down with his legs crossed, his every movement carrying an inexplicable refinement.

Evan watched for a while before turning back to face the campfire. “You seem like you’ve never been afraid… How do you manage that?”

He stared blankly at the warm orange flames, his tone dejected. “Saint… Saintess Coralie is the same. Why aren’t any of you afraid? So it really is my problem? Is it my fault? But I’ve already… I’ve already tried so hard…”

Perhaps tonight’s environment was too similar to the fragmented scenes in the depths of his memory, Evan unconsciously fell into that nightmarish recollection again.

“Look at that dazzling golden hair, oh! And those heart-melting blue eyes—he must be a child blessed by the God of Light!”

“Yes, yes… Good heavens! What is that? Light magic? He’s only five years old!”

His memories before age five were already very blurry. What Evan could recall now were only these praises that filled his ears.

Then the scene shifted to a sea of flames. The firelight illuminated half the night sky, and houses in the distance collapsed in the flames with thunderous roars mixed with gunpowder smoke.

“Evan! You’re the smallest—only you can squeeze through here! You must escape to town! There’s a church there. If you bring the holy knights, we can be saved!” A youth with a blurred face gripped little Evan’s shoulders desperately, shouting himself hoarse with instructions.

Behind the youth, several children around ten years old looked at little Evan with fear and hope. Around each of their bodies, small points of light were escaping—their internal light magic was being absorbed by something.

“Our magic power is almost drained! Evan! You absolutely must escape!” the leading youth kept repeating. “As long as the Church knows, they’ll definitely come to save us!”

Five-year-old Evan’s thin body trembled slightly. He shook his little head, saying in a crying voice: “But I’m scared… I’m so scared…”

“You can’t be scared!” the youth said anxiously. “There’s no time left! I sense someone coming!”

Little Evan was pushed and squeezed through the small hole by the wall, the rough sand and stone leaving bright red scratches on his skin.

His mind was muddled like paste. He hesitated for a long while before finally taking steps and stumbling forward.

He didn’t remember how long he cried, how many times he fell, before finally rushing into the church covered in blood and dishevelment.

But when the Holy Knight Order reached the village, the flames had already been extinguished, leaving only the blackened remains of houses and an abandoned magic circle.

And several withered small corpses.

The priest who had followed knelt down, placed his hand on a corpse’s chest, his white sleeve gently covering the corpse’s cloudy, dim eyes. He quietly felt for a moment, then shook his head. “Too late.”

The priest glanced at the dazed little Evan, moved his lips, but said nothing.

It wasn’t until the group had buried all the village’s corpses and returned heavily to town that the priest found a moment to say regretfully to the knight captain: “Those children’s magic power and life force hadn’t been drained for long. If only we could have been a little earlier, just a little earlier…”

Little Evan, crouched by the door, listened numbly to all of this, staring blankly at his own gray little hands.

If he hadn’t been so afraid, wouldn’t have hesitated, wouldn’t have faltered, wouldn’t have fallen…

Those children wouldn’t have died.

Little Evan trembled as he curled into a ball, large tears falling to the ground. He was guilty.

For the following ten years, everyone in the town knew that beside the priest was a youth beloved by the God of Light—talented, enthusiastic, and kind, like a little sun that forever radiated warmth.

Evan could give everything he possessed, even his life, for any stranger’s request. Every day he lived was like endless atonement.

Ji Chi quietly listened to his unconscious confession, using a stick in his hand to poke at the fire before them, making “pop” sounds in the silent forest.

Evan’s confession also stirred up some memories of his own. As a child, he couldn’t bear boredom and tedium—he had been wild and reckless, landing in the hospital several times.

Until one day he woke from unconsciousness to see his parents’ accusing, blaming, impatient gazes, finally realizing that it wasn’t fate that was wrong—he was the guilty one.

Ji Chi himself hadn’t yet emerged from his pessimistic emotions and didn’t know how to comfort Evan.

Just then, there was a sudden loud “thump” by the fire pit. Ji Chi and Evan’s thin shoulders both jumped, and they looked toward the sound.

A rabbit that had died with eyes wide open had been thrown onto the dirt ground.

Saintess Coralie used her foot to push the half-human-height dead rabbit to one side, sat cross-legged in front of the campfire, and looked up to scan the depressed duo.

“Everyone needs you to save them? You might as well become the Saintess yourself.” Saintess Coralie had obviously heard the entire conversation, curling her lips somewhat sarcastically. “This is the first time I’ve seen someone compete with a murderer for credit.”

Evan snapped back to reality and was somewhat angry at her words, but facing Saintess Coralie, he couldn’t express it. He just hung his head and said sullenly, “I was only feeling regret! If I could have…”

Saintess Coralie mercilessly interrupted him. “How is that possible? If you had run faster, would you definitely have saved them? What if you ran too fast and were discovered? Not only would no one have found their bodies, but you wouldn’t have survived to this day either.”

“Besides,” Saintess Coralie was truly impatient with Evan’s indecisive nature. She drew a sharp knife from her leg side and stabbed it into the rabbit’s neck without blinking, “Why is it all your fault? Why isn’t it the Church’s slow response? Why isn’t it the Holy Knights taking too long to travel? To let a five-year-old child bear the burden of so many lives—truly the Church’s style.”

No one had ever said such things to Evan before. They only taught him to love all people and be strict with himself.

These viewpoints were too contrary to the thinking Evan had accepted since childhood. He opened his mouth to say something but was nudged by Ji Chi’s elbow.

Saintess Coralie looked up to indicate he should speak quickly if he had something to say, while her hands skillfully ripped open the rabbit’s belly and brutally dismembered and separated the entire rabbit in just a few moves.

Watching this scene, Evan obediently swallowed his words and sat by the campfire like a quail, listening to the teaching.

Saintess Coralie was too lazy to waste more words. Seeing that Evan’s emotions had calmed down, she skewered pieces of rabbit meat on cleaned tree branches and handed them to Ji Chi and the others to roast together.

The fresh red tender meat curled and roasted above the flames, giving off waves of enticing aroma. This aroma drifted far, drawing a small Holy Knight squad in this direction.

“I told you coming to this cabin was right, didn’t I? Look, we can still meet people!” A cheerful, lively voice came from far to near, breaking through the silence of the forest night.