The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He?-Chapter 379 - Looking into the dark past! (11)
Night had settled completely over the quiet holy kingdom.
The wind moved gently through the narrow street, carrying with it the distant rustle of leaves and the faint creaking of wooden beams. Lantern light from the orphanage gate flickered softly, casting long, trembling shadows across the stone ground.
It was silent.
Too silent.
The woman lay collapsed on her knees for a moment, her body trembling from exhaustion. Her breath came in slow, ragged pulls as she gathered the last fragments of strength she had left.
Then slowly—
Very slowly—
She lowered her gaze.
The baby girl rested in her arms.
Small.
Fragile.
Wrapped tightly in worn cloth.
Two tiny lavender-silver eyes blinked up at her.
The child looked into her face.
And smiled.
Her tiny hands reached upward, fingers opening and closing clumsily as if trying to grab the air between them.
Trying to reach her.
The woman froze.
Her dry eyes trembled.
For a long moment she simply stared at the little face looking up at her so innocently... so happily... as if the world had given her everything she needed simply by letting her be born.
Then—
A broken smile appeared on the woman’s lips.
"My child..." she whispered.
Her voice was hoarse.
Fragile.
"...just how unlucky I must be... that you were born to me under such circumstances."
The baby tilted her head slightly to the side.
Curious.
Still smiling.
Her fingers brushed against her mother’s chin.
The woman’s smile trembled.
Tears began forming again in eyes that had already cried themselves dry.
"...What kind of mother am I...?" she murmured softly.
"A mother who is nothing but a curse to a child like you..."
Her arms tightened instinctively around the baby.
Protectively.
As if trying to memorize the warmth.
"For you to grow up peacefully..." she whispered, voice shaking, "...I need to leave you."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Then another.
"They will never stop chasing me," she said quietly.
"Those beasts..."
Her shoulders trembled.
"Nor can I leave my past behind..."
The baby giggled faintly.
As if none of those words meant anything.
As if the world was still simple.
Still kind.
The woman laughed softly through her tears.
"I want your childhood to be normal," she continued.
Her fingers gently brushed the baby’s cheek.
"Happy."
"Carefree."
"Running through fields... playing with other children... laughing without knowing what fear feels like."
Her voice softened further.
"I hope you grow up beautifully."
"I hope one day... you find a man you like."
"And marry him."
"Live a peaceful life... somewhere far away from all of this."
Behind her—
The Saintess stood completely still.
Her lips trembled violently.
Her vision blurred with tears she could no longer hold back.
She watched the woman—her mother—speak those words.
Words meant for her.
But never meant to be heard.
The woman lowered her head slightly.
"While growing up..." she continued slowly, "...you may often wonder who your parents are."
"You might even try to search for me."
Her fingers trembled as they brushed the baby’s hair.
"But..."
Her voice cracked.
"...I hope you never find me."
Tears fell freely now.
"I hope you never learn anything about your mother."
Her shoulders shook.
"My life..." she whispered, "...has been nothing but darkness."
She lifted the baby slightly closer to her chest.
"But you..."
Her lips trembled into a faint smile.
"...you are the small light that appeared inside that darkness."
A single tear fell onto the baby’s forehead.
"And to protect that light..."
Her voice broke.
"...the darkness has to disappear."
Slowly—
Her hand moved to her chest.
She pulled something from inside her worn clothing.
A small object.
Old.
Broken.
A half of a brooch.
Its surface was scratched, the metal slightly bent, but the design was still visible.
She carefully placed it inside the cloth wrapped around the baby.
"I... don’t have anything else to give you," she whispered.
"...apart from this broken brooch."
Her fingers lingered there for a moment.
"The other half..."
Her voice softened.
"...should be with your uncle."
"...Emeron."
The Saintess’ entire body trembled violently.
Her breath hitched.
Her eyes snapped toward Luca.
He stood beside her.
Silent.
But he slowly nodded.
The confirmation landed like thunder in her chest.
The woman lowered her head once more.
She pressed her lips gently to the baby’s forehead.
One last time.
Her hand caressed the tiny cheek.
Softly.
Tenderly.
"...May the Goddess bless you."
Then—
Before her courage could break—
She stood.
Her legs wavered.
Her body screamed in pain.
But she forced herself to move.
She stepped forward.
Then another step.
Then another.
And suddenly—
She ran.
She ran without turning back.
Without hesitating.
Without allowing herself a single glance behind.
Her footsteps echoed across the quiet courtyard.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
Behind her—
A sound broke through the night.
A cry.
The baby girl had begun to cry.
The first cry since she had been born.
Small.
Fragile.
Desperate.
The sound pierced the night air.
It followed the woman like an arrow.
But she didn’t stop.
Her shoulders trembled violently as she ran.
Tears blinded her vision.
But she ran.
And ran.
And ran.
Behind her—
Two silent figures followed.
The Saintess.
And Luca.
Watching the woman disappear deeper into the darkness of the night.
The woman ran.
She ran as if the night itself was chasing her.
Her bare feet stumbled across the uneven road, gravel biting into her skin as she pushed forward again and again. Her body trembled with every step—weak from blood loss, drained from childbirth, hollowed by exhaustion.
But she did not stop.
She ran past silent houses.
Past empty streets.
Past lanterns flickering in the wind.
Behind her—
The orphanage courtyard disappeared into the distance.
The cries of the child slowly faded.
Still she ran.
Until finally—
Her strength gave out.
Her legs collapsed beneath her and she fell forward onto the cold earth, catching herself with trembling hands. Her chest heaved violently as she struggled to breathe.
"I... I made it..." she whispered hoarsely.
Her eyes darted behind her.
Nothing.
No torches.
No guards.
No footsteps chasing her.
And most importantly—
Not in the direction of the orphanage.
Only then did the last thread holding her together snap.
She collapsed fully onto her knees.
A broken sob escaped her.
Her hands pressed against her mouth as tears spilled freely down her face.
"My baby..."
Her shoulders shook violently.
Behind her—
The Saintess ran.
Her steps were frantic, desperate, stumbling over themselves as she followed the fleeing woman.
For the first time since they had entered the past—
She cried.
Not silently.
Not quietly.
Her tears poured freely as she ran.
"Wait—!"
Her voice cracked.
"Wait...!"
She reached forward as if she could grab the woman’s sleeve.
"Please—!"
But the distance between time could not be crossed.
Luca followed behind her, his expression grim, his chest tight as he watched her run.
Then—
The woman stopped.
She collapsed to the ground ahead of them.
The Saintess froze.
Her breath caught as she watched.
The woman knelt there, shoulders shaking violently, tears dripping into the dirt beneath her.
Then slowly—
Her hand moved to the folds of her dress.
She pulled something free.
A small knife.
Its blade gleamed faintly beneath the moonlight.
The Saintess’ pupils shrank.
"...No..."
Her voice trembled.
The woman lifted her face toward the sky.
Toward the silent stars above.
"Hey... Goddess..." she said softly.
Her voice was tired.
But peaceful.
"My life has been filled with sadness... desperation... frustration..."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the knife.
"But I’m not complaining to you."
Luca stopped beside the Saintess.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them breathed.
The woman closed her eyes briefly.
"Nor has my belief in you been shattered."
Her voice remained steady.
"I will only ask you one thing."
Her head bowed slightly.
"Please look after my daughter."
"Protect her... from all the darkness in this world."
Her hand trembled slightly.
"But that... is my belief in you."
The wind stirred gently around them.
"Even though there is so much darkness in your Holy Kingdom today..."
Her voice strengthened.
"...I believe you will cleanse this darkness."
She lifted her gaze again.
Her eyes reflected the cold moonlight.
"Make this land holy again."
"Where children can laugh."
"Where orphans can belong somewhere."
"Where people have a voice."
Her grip on the knife tightened.
"And this land..."
Her voice lowered.
"...will be cleansed."
"With the blood of those criminals."
Behind her—
The Saintess trembled.
Something inside her shifted.
Her eyes changed.
Light—
Soft at first—
Began spilling from them.
Not holy power.
Not mana.
Something deeper.
Understanding.
Truth.
Her entire body trembled as if something within her had broken open.
Luca’s eyes widened.
He watched the glow slowly spread around her like dawn breaking after endless night.
And suddenly—
A memory surfaced.
The Pope.
Holding a fruit.
Splashing it suddenly to reveal the seed inside.
"For being able to eat rotten fruit..."
"It must first destroy itself completely. And a new seed should be planted.."
Luca’s breath slowed.
His gaze shifted between the glowing Saintess—
And the woman kneeling beneath the moon.
And the realization settled quietly inside him.
For a new belief to be born—
The old one had to destroy itself completely.
