Sacrilegious Salvation - Chapter 3

The wind blew the door open a crack.

The rain seized the chance to slip in, soaking the floor.

Night was thick as ink. In the damp room, a dim kerosene lamp flickered. On the table sat an empty bowl; on the floor, a few drops of pitch-black, viscous medicine had spilled.

Not far away, a beautiful silver-haired boy lay on a narrow wooden bed, his clothes in disarray. His face, both alluring and cold, was flushed; his slender arm hung limply, and in his dazed expression, despair flickered.

A man stood before him.

A man who looked impatient.

The greed and lust in the man’s eyes made the boy nauseous.

As the man bent down to kiss him-

He shut his eyes in disgust.

“Squelch-”

The sound of a knife piercing flesh.

The boy felt warm blood drip onto his neck.

The next moment, there was the thud of a heavy body hitting the ground.

He opened his eyes.

A dazzling bolt of lightning split the sky.

In the wavering lamplight, I stood before him, my face pale, gripping a blood-stained dagger, wiping away the blood splattered beneath my eyelids with one hand.

The dagger clattered to the floor.

I embraced the miserable and fragile God.

“Eliny?”

Ellis called softly, uncertain.

I answered with a quiet “Mm,” released him, picked up the dagger shimmering faintly on the floor, wiped the blood off with a cloth, and cut through the ropes binding him.

“Why are you here?”

He grabbed my hand and asked.

“It’s a long story.”

“We need to leave here quickly.”

The boy’s fair wrists were bruised, red and deep.

I stroked them, feeling a pang of sorrow, but I had no intention of lingering. I took his hand, gripped the dagger tightly, and stepped over the dead Torland, heading for the door.

The night grew darker, the rain heavier.

I picked up the lantern left in the corner, and by its faint light, I hurriedly pulled Ellis home, not daring to pause for a moment.

The night rain was cold and damp.

As soon as we entered the house, I found a clean cloth to wipe the rain from Ellis, but he caught my wrist.

“Are you alright?”

He took the cloth in one hand, and with the other, gently brushed aside the hair on my forehead, damp with cold sweat, his brows filled with worry.

My movements had been hurried; my face and lips were equally pale, my whole body soaked.

He touched the top of my head in confusion and pity, wiped the rain from my face with the cloth, his voice low and soothing:

“You’re afraid.

“Why?

“Can you tell me?”

It was my first time killing someone. I tried to suppress the panic inside, but my heart still pounded like a drum, and my fingertips trembled uncontrollably.

It wasn’t exactly fear-more like panic.

As for what truly frightened me-

I looked up at my God.

His silver hair and snowy skin, his features cold yet gentle.

He was still holy, untouched by filth.

I suddenly threw myself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

“They cannot hurt you.”

My voice was hoarse, choked with tears.

Ellis stiffened.

My tears soaked the front of his shirt.

He came to himself, gently patted my back, wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, and said softly:

“I’m fine. You saved me.

“You are very brave, my…”

Ellis paused, not finishing his sentence.

“Believer.”

I stopped crying and looked at him seriously.

He was a little surprised that I recognized his identity.

I handed him the freshly picked red rose from the vase, repeating my earlier words, my tone firm:

“I am the most loyal Believer of God.”

So, I could not bear to see God fall.

The faith in my eyes was devout and pure.

So fervent it nearly burned the numb God.

His brows grew more melancholy.

There was confusion and guilt.

And a deep, intense sorrow.

“I’m sorry.”

The boy turned his head, his fingertips twitching.

“God can no longer protect you.”

He had already lost his divine power.

I took his hand and looked straight at him.

“Then, for now, let me protect God.”

A Believer protecting God?

How absurd and laughable.

Ellis patted my head.

God was always tolerant, always gentle.

His little Believer was rather cute.

Perhaps she did not understand the gravity of the situation.

“It’s complicated… You could get hurt.”

He lowered his hand, determined to leave.

Clearly, God did not want to implicate the innocent.

I quickly stepped in front of him, spreading my arms to block his way, declaring firmly:

“I am your Believer.

“I will devote everything to you.”

Behind me was the storm and the night.

Ellis’s eyes flickered, but he did not linger. He lowered his gaze and stepped past me.

I grabbed his wrist, turned around, and looked up at him calmly, my attitude resolute:

“I am God’s savior.

“God cannot leave.

“God must repay me.”

God was puzzled, his voice ethereal and holy:

“Then, my dear Believer,

“What kind of reward do you want?”

I breathed a sigh of relief, tilted my head with a smile, a hint of mischief in my eyes as I asked for my reward:

“My beloved God,

“Would you accompany me to the Old Temple Ruins?”

In the original story, this was mentioned briefly.

After the fall of the Creator God, the Old Temple Ruins lay silent at the end of the sea and time. There, the Book of Fate could rewrite the future, and the Sword of Light sealed pure divine power.

The boy’s long lashes trembled.

In the wind and rain,

He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

“God grants you this wish.

“My Believer.”