A Secretly Capable Child Is Seeking For Her Dad - Chapter 217

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

A Powerful Child Searches for Dad Episode 217

 

“…Go.”

 

At the voice that seemed about to break, Morien quickly turned his head.

 

Nordics was struggling to lift his body, trying to get up from his seat.

 

“Lord Nordics!”

 

Morien hurriedly ran over and supported him.

 

Having not eaten for days, Nordics’ body felt terrifyingly emaciated in his grasp.

 

Memories of receiving help in childhood came flooding back, and tears helplessly welled up in his eyes.

 

“No, how on earth did this happen…!”

 

Nordics quietly pushed away his touch.

 

Only his faded eyes shone quietly in Nordics’ blood-covered face.

 

“How can you not know that He is testing you.”

 

Morien flinched at the word ‘testing.’

 

He looked back at the door of the Purification Chamber with a pale face.

 

The door through which the Pope had left was firmly shut as if it had never been opened.

 

“Calling you here today, you who have ties with me, showing you all of this. In the end, it will all become a test, Morien.”

 

“….”

 

“So just go. There’s nothing good that will come from making contact with me now.”

 

Morien’s arm dropped limply.

 

But he ultimately couldn’t overcome his emotions and glared with wide eyes.

 

“Are you telling me now not to help you, sir, because I might fall out of His Holiness’s favor?”

 

“….”

 

“If it weren’t for you, sir, I would have starved to death in the Orphanage! Not just me, but all the brothers and sisters who were there with me that day!”

 

“….”

 

“We exchange letters often, and everyone without exception has been curious about your news, sir. You suddenly disappeared one day and we couldn’t even know if you were alive or dead…. And we didn’t even know you were a priest!”

 

Tears welled up in Morien’s eyes.

 

“If I had known you were this close, I would have come to see you long ago. How could….”

 

He wiped his eyes and under his nose as he stared at Nordics.

 

“I can’t leave you here and go out alone, sir. I know I shouldn’t say this, but honestly…!”

 

The image of the Pope inflicting cruel torture on Nordics came to mind.

 

Nordics’ face and expression as he suffered, even his tears.

 

Morien’s clenched fist trembled violently.

 

‘Come to think of it, wasn’t that level of torture usually reserved for heinous criminals who committed murder?’

 

A doubt he had never had since becoming a priest began to bloom.

 

It wasn’t a question about his faith.

 

It was just as if he had seen behind the sanctity of the Pope, which he had thought was absolute.

 

‘I think I understand why I felt uncomfortable every time I ran errands for holy water.’

 

Morien shook his head to dispel the confusion and faced Nordics.

 

“Anyway. I don’t know what crime you committed, sir, but I…!”

 

“Shh.”

 

At that moment, Nordics placed one hand over his lips.

 

With a face filled with compassion, Nordics let out a sigh.

 

“I understand. You can’t help it either.”

 

“….”

 

“Indeed. I can’t ask you to accomplish what I couldn’t do myself.”

 

Nordics staggered as he got up from his seat.

 

Then he said with a haggard face.

 

“Please help me to the Ascetic’s Room where I stay in the Eastern Diocesan Office.”

 

The Eastern Diocesan Office consisted of dozens of ascetic rooms.

 

The ascetic rooms were spaces where priests stayed and lived, but most were currently empty.

 

‘Why don’t you use the Northern Diocesan Office…? Most priests staying at Serkanos Temple live in the Northern Diocesan Office.’

 

Reflecting on Morien’s words as he turned back at the entrance, Nordics sat down on the hard bed.

 

Unbearable pain was felt around his solar plexus, and a groan naturally escaped.

 

The only furniture in the simple room was a bed, a small drawer, and a nightstand.

 

From the day he first put on priest’s robes, these three pieces were all the furniture there was.

 

‘If you can’t control it, eliminate it.’

 

Luciano’s final words echoed in his head.

 

‘An ominous sprout should have been cut off from the beginning.’

 

The handkerchief he was holding crumpled in Nordics’ hand.

 

Nordics unconsciously lowered his head.

 

“Why….”

 

The candle flame flickered in the cold wind seeping through the window.

 

“Why on earth did you return.”

 

The holy records placed on the nightstand listed news from large and small temples across the continent.

 

Among them, the two words at the very top reflected light and shone dimly.

 

[Sorcerer King, bound for Jedo.]

 

He had hoped Astie would not appear again.

 

Day and night, throughout the entire journey back to the Central Continent leaving the Royal Palace behind, he had hoped and hoped again.

 

Nordics swallowed a groan as he curled up on the hard bed.

 

Unbearable pain was felt in his chest and abdomen.

 

It was a sign that the organs the Pope had damaged were recovering.

 

Nordics sobbed in a barely audible voice.

 

“…It is my sin.”

 

Beyond his blurring vision.

 

Very old memories struck him as vividly as if they were yesterday.

 

The voices of his brothers who had been angry at him too.

 

‘Omen! How, how could you betray us!’

 

‘How dare you join hands with that demon!’

 

‘Do you know what happened to Mother Tree…? Sob, the eternal roots were brutally torn out! All six branches were broken too! Because of that, that utterly evil demon!’

 

Omen was on this side of the river then, while his brothers were on the other side.

 

So all his brothers were beheaded, and only he survived.

 

The reason was… well.

 

‘Priest. Please, sob, save me.’

 

Was it because he had seen too many innocent children lying in pools of blood?

 

‘Save me, sa….’

 

Was it because he had witnessed too many scenes where final breaths escaped from those mouths, ultimately disappearing without leaving a trace?

 

‘You said you became a Grand Warden to save lives, didn’t you, Omen?’

 

The smile the Pope had given Nordics in that prison echoing with his comrades’ screams was vivid.

 

‘Think about it. Which choice would be the path to ‘saving’ more lives right now?’

 

It was the devil’s whisper.

 

But at the same time, it was also a very sweet temptation.

 

His subconscious mind chattered on and on.

 

‘Omen, only the foolish and stupid will call you a traitor. But you’re merely seizing an opportunity to choose.’

 

‘Will you disappear like the countless lives you’ve witnessed, or will you survive and gain a chance to change something?’

 

Indeed, the silent god was despairing.

 

He couldn’t rely on such a god, on a dying god.

 

Because Nordics was one who had watched everything.

 

Countless comrades being quietly buried in Roxe Forest.

 

Because he was one who had watched innocent children disappear like dew at Serkanos Cathedral.

 

‘They will curse you! They will curse you who betrayed the great cause, you who abandoned Mother, even from the Underworld!’

 

Nordics captured in his eyes the moment all five Grand Wardens’ heads fell.

 

With wide-open eyes, he witnessed it to the very end.

 

Because it felt like he had to.

 

Mastone first emerged on the day the World Tree broke.

 

However, the Pope disguised the appearance of Mastone as the Grand Wardens’ mistake and beheaded them all.

 

Only Nordics survived, but his death was also announced as having occurred that day.

 

‘How does it feel to become a dead man, Omen?’

 

With him kneeling at his feet, the Pope smiled brighter and more radiantly than ever before.

 

‘You are no longer a Grand Warden. You will become my branch itself. I heard you still possess ‘those eyes.”

 

‘Those eyes’ meant the Spirit Eyes.

 

In other words, the eyes of a Grand Warden.

 

It was a virtue absolutely necessary for Grand Wardens to serve the World Tree.

 

Through the Spirit Eyes, Grand Wardens could see and feel the World Tree’s condition, and also see the thousands and tens of thousands of spirits under the World Tree.

 

Small gods that could dwell in places, objects, or even emotions and relationships.

 

Communicating and speaking with them was the greatest glory for those who possessed Spirit Eyes.

 

Of course, Pope Luciano was also one of those who had opened Spirit Eyes.

 

Before becoming a demon, he was just one of many ordinary and faithful high priests.

 

However.

 

‘At the final moment, it seemed to rebel against me. The Spirit Eyes completely disappeared.’

 

While harming the World Tree and absorbing its power, the Pope lost his Spirit Eyes.

 

He had gained power stronger than anyone else’s, but could no longer read the World Tree and the spirits under its command.

 

‘But in a rotten nest, even eggs are bound to rot. There’s no great attachment to things that will eventually go berserk and become Mastone anyway. However.’

 

‘….’

 

‘That black dragon must be found. If it’s the World Tree, it will surely try to scheme something insolent through that wicked thing.’

 

A single dry tear rolled down Nordics’ closed eyes.

 

All recollections were cut off, and he saw his own back as he went to report before the Pope a few months ago.

 

‘Your Holiness, its presence has been detected in Briowood Forest.’

 

He didn’t know how much he would regret and regret again that moment later.

 

‘Grandfather!’

 

When he saw that small crown of a head running over and hugging him.

 

When he heard the cheerful laughter echoing through the comfortable stronghold.

 

“Now I can never, never see them again….”

 

Nordics slowly curled up his body.

 

And for a long time, he let out silent moans.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————