I Only Baked Bread, but I Was Mistaken for the Best - Chapter 123

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

Chapter 123. A Deeper Faith (3)
It was as if golden afternoon sunlight shimmered down upon me.
The heavy air within the grotesque house of candy vanished with but a single bite of madeleine.
‘What on earth is this…?’
It should have been merely a lemon madeleine.
The bitter yet delicate citrus notes peculiar to lemon zest suffused every corner of my palate.
Though it bore intricate patterns like freshly opened seashells, and possessed an elegance too refined to be called merely a luxury confection, a madeleine was still a madeleine, was it not?
But this was different.
‘Something… something has happened…’
Perhaps it was because I was an A-rank Hunter by classification.
Rohan instinctively sensed that something within him had transformed.
Could it be poison?
No, it wasn’t poison.
Then it must surely be some manner of status abnormality.
For such a sensation of comfort was hardly commonplace.
Even as I drew my vigilance to its peak, a fantastical symphony unfolded within my mouth.
Like something freshly baked from the Kitchen, a subtle warmth lingered on my tongue.
Contrary to the pleasant resistance of the crumbling exterior, the interior was soft as clouds and smoother than silk.
The richness of butter spreading across my palate was as weighty as melting candle wax from the candelabra in a Church, yet it exhaled a savory fragrance instead.
‘How could such a flavor exist…’
The lemon’s acidity that followed was not sharp.
It was as dazzling as the first dawn light illuminating cold marble floors at daybreak.
The subtle salt crystals felt with each chew endlessly expanded the depth of sweetness, and the zest’s aroma brushing my nose felt like touching something profound.
Yes, like retrieving something long forgotten.
In other words…
‘Like retracing a memory…’
That was when it happened.
“Hey! Rohan! Going to Church?”
At the familiar voice from behind, I turned my head.
What appeared was a boy running toward me while swinging an indoor shoe bag in circles.
Before I could dodge, thinking we would collide, the creature simply rushed through me.
Whoosh!
“If you’re going, I’m coming with you!”
He passed straight through my body.
Unable to comprehend what was happening, I finally remembered the boy’s identity.
He was a Friend who had sat beside me in second grade of elementary school.
Far away, my younger self adjusted my round glasses and answered.
“Yeah. Let’s go together.”
“Hehe. They say they give out candy where you’re going.”
“Is it tasty?”
“Of course! My mother always tells me not to eat sweets because they’re bad for my body, but here they just keep giving them to me. Hehe!”
Rohan gazed upon his younger self exchanging words befitting that age, and memories stirred within him.
That creature who had come to the Church and greedily devoured pastries never returned after that.
It was right after the Church’s finances deteriorated and they could no longer distribute sweets.
‘But when I heard the Church was struggling, I felt genuine sorrow for it.’
The unbeliever harbored feelings of compassion and sympathy.
Was this truly evil?
‘It is not evil.’
Yet it could not be called perfect goodness either.
For it was a will born from satisfying one’s own desires.
But is not the heart that worries for another a form of virtue?
‘Regardless, where exactly am I…?’
As I glanced around, the landscape began to distort noticeably.
And what emerged thereafter was none other than an Alley.
A terribly familiar one at that.
It could not have been otherwise.
This place bore an uncanny resemblance to the Alley near my home in my memories.
It was proof that Yeon-gi knew of my life before becoming an Elder—something I had never told anyone.
‘What method was used? Does it involve interfering with memories?’
The monsters that emerged from Gates possessed characteristics ranging from the weak—Goblins—to the formidable—Dragons I had witnessed.
Particularly terrifying among them were those creatures with extraordinary abilities.
Some could swing their tails once and turn the surroundings into a sea of flame, while others existed that could infiltrate the brain’s structure and command Hunters like extensions of their own limbs.
So there was no guarantee that Yeon-gi before me was incapable of the same.
‘I must keep my wits about me. Father in Heaven, reveal the danger to me, and grant me the strength and courage to evade it.’
“You green-eared brat! Get out of here! Hey! You spineless, gutless fool!”
With someone’s shout, memories from my school days flashed past my mind.
It must have been from middle school.
“Grandfather. No matter what, you shouldn’t speak to me this way. I’m only trying to help you.”
In those days, I was a student who believed that the Word alone was the answer.
Now I understand how to follow that Word, but back then I was young.
Those were days when I believed only what was written to be righteous.
‘That is precisely why I acted as I did.’
One winter, I discovered an Old Man who collected waste paper daily at the edge of the Market.
The memory of hearing those words when I pushed the cart behind him in obedience to the teaching to help others felt as vivid as yesterday.
I felt wronged then, yes, I did.
“I told you to get out of here!”
The Old Man shrieked and dragged the cart away.
He was already a notorious figure in this area.
A man branded as an “unbeliever” with no faith and a foul mouth.
But afterward, I saw.
On a day when blizzards raged, I found the worn passbook clutched by an Old Man who had fallen on frozen ground.
Within it were records of a lifetime of savings—not spent on medicine for himself, but transferred for winter coats for the children at the orphanage.
That Old Man’s rough hands, which could not recite a single prayer, were far warmer than the smooth hands of those who read scripture daily.
And so someone asks the question.
Is virtue performed without the name of God truly sublime?
‘….’
The world melts away once more.
This time, I stood before stained glass.
Before the sacred light pouring through the glass art, the Rohan of my past knelt upon the ground.
‘This is….’
How could I forget?
Receiving the Church’s recognition and becoming the youngest Elder to conduct heresy trials.
In turn, I became the leader of the Holy Knight Order that the Church commanded.
But nothing proceeded smoothly.
‘It was a heavy burden.’
Before even reaching thirty, the price of bearing the title of youngest Elder upon my shoulders was severe.
Upon it lay not God’s grace, but meticulous ledgers converted into the value of someone’s life.
All of it spoke the same message.
Dedicate yourself for the good of the world.
Do not worry—it will be a fitting sacrifice.
Those who perished made a sublime choice, and this is utterly natural and righteous.
“I hope you will continue to spread the Father’s will and lead the charge in driving back those wicked Gates and monsters.”
The Elder’s voice echoed in my ears.
What meaning did those words carry?
How were all those who had died thus far being perceived?
The Rohan of that time harbored no doubts whatsoever.
Or rather, could not.
Because it was the righteous path.
Because I believed in it so firmly.
“Do not hesitate. It is a work for the Lord and remarkably good….”
The faces of the Elders, speaking word by word, began to crumble.
Another memory crept back into place.
The ornate stained glass of the Church melted away, and the marble floor became a murky Swamp.
How deeply had I sunk into the Swamp?
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the Church.
An old dining table, and a scent both modest and humble, yet familiar.
There stood my father, Seon-woong, regarding me with a worried expression.
“Rohan, the will of God does not reside in gold-leafed crosses. Like water flowing to low places, He dwells in the tears of the most vulnerable.”
My father—the one I trusted and relied upon.
Unlike the heretics who preached distorted doctrine, he truly strove to treat all people from the lowest place in accordance with the Word.
He strived to help despite their meager means, and he endeavored to share in their suffering.
And through it all, he found happiness.
Rohan had deeply admired such a father.
He had thought he wanted to become like that.
But what of now?
“Father. I too am following your teachings and acting righteously.”
“Do you truly believe that?”
The numbers from yesterday’s ledger and my father’s voice blurred together.
As an Elder who had risen to the position of heresy inquisitor, I was tasked with compiling the roster of Holy Knights to be dispatched to Gate sites.
The criterion was not faith.
It was the amount of donations the Hunter Guild had contributed.
Or rather, because of that, faith became the criterion.
Were they not donating to guide the world in the right direction?
Really?
Had I truly believed that?
“Capital is necessary to maintain the holy war and to slay more monsters.”
With such excuses, I postponed support requests from Guilds that had donated less.
What came back as a result was news of Hunters’ deaths.
My father heard the news and came to find me, rebuking me.
The most faithful of all rebuked me.
“Don’t you understand how grave a sin it is to condone, turn a blind eye to, and even orchestrate people’s deaths in the name of saving the world!”
“This is the most efficient course for the Church!”
“Do you really think it makes sense to attach efficiency to human lives!”
“Father, you are not a Hunter, so you wouldn’t understand!”
I raised my voice and argued with my father, invoking my rank as an S-rank Hunter.
In truth, it was meaningless.
For rank held no significance in following the teachings.
And so I ask again.
Is this truly the right thing to do?
Who said it was right?
Is it right to expand the Church’s influence and, for that purpose, hold Hunters’ lives in my grasp and coerce them?
‘Ah…’
The answer was already determined.
A very simple answer that had already been decided.
‘I have been committing wrongdoing.’
As the last fragment of madeleine dissolved on my tongue, I realized it.
The golden flesh inside the madeleine felt like the warm touch my father once placed upon the back of my hand in childhood, and my throat tightened with heat.
What I had served was not God.
‘What I followed was not doctrine, but power.’
Hidden behind the vast curtain of God’s name, I had obeyed the power structure designed by greedy, aging Elders, believing it to be sacred doctrine.
They fabricated numbers tailored to their appetites.
Wrapping it in the guise of sublimity, they stained their hands with blood.
“How does it taste?”
When Rohan regained consciousness, he found himself awake in the Pastry Shop.
The madeleine that had been resting on the plate was nowhere to be seen.
Only powder remained on the dish.
Droplets fell upon it, one after another.
Had he tasted them, he would have felt the bitter saltiness of profound regret in those tears.
“I… I don’t know what I was seeing.”
At the most brilliant pinnacle of his life, he had prided himself on wearing the crown of youngest Elder, yet he had been living as a blind man in the darkest abyss.
Everyone in his memories was virtuous.
They were sublime even without faith.
Perhaps they would still extend those rough hands to those beneath them and smile.
Only now did he keenly feel that the sincerity contained in that humble smile was far more sacred than the money accumulating in the vaults.
“It matters not if you don’t understand. You need only learn from this point forward.”
Rohan could say nothing.
Black Smoke still undulated with the same grotesque rhythm as before.
Yet why did it feel as though there was a heart within it?
Was this truly the result of a monster’s brainwashing?
No, it couldn’t be.
The emotions he felt belonged to him alone.
And so there was something he had to do right now.
Rohan rose from his seat.
To tear apart the Holy Knight Order dispatch roster graded by donation amount, laid upon the ornate office desk.
To walk following the cries and teachings that burst forth from the lowly, not the voices of the Elders.
Even if it meant destroying all the authority I had built.
“Are you not curious about the method of purification?”
Black Smoke asked as Rohan stood and turned toward the door.
The answer was already decided.
“I am no longer curious.”
Because I now clearly understand that purification comes not from sincerity, but from sublimity.
And because I now know with certainty who the heretics were that corrupted that sublimity.
* * *
After that day, a wind of blood swept through the churches of South Korea.
It was a religious reformation.

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