The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 33

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 33
“Do you know what the greatest characteristic of humanity is? It is that humans are beings of endless yearning. Once their hunger for abundant food and shelter, safety, and happiness was satisfied, they began to crave even more.”
“…….”
“They coveted others’ possessions, seized them, even harmed them. And in the end, they came to crave the very power and position of God themselves.”
For someone who had lived in a world scarred by war, it was hardly a surprising tale. She waited calmly for the ending she already foresaw.
“Disappointed by humanity’s greed and folly, God ultimately abandoned this land.”
As expected.
The Pope, who had recited the bleak conclusion in a monotone, traced the Temple emblem carved into his rosary with the tip of his finger.
“Yet God’s love is so vast and profound that no human could ever comprehend or follow it, so He could not bring Himself to abandon us entirely.”
“…….”
“The merciful God still grants miracles to those who believe and follow Him, and tends to them in person. This Divine Power is the proof.”
His golden eyes, themselves a symbol of immense Holy Power, vanished beneath his eyelids for an instant, then opened clearly once more.
Without quite meaning to, Cecilia’s hand drifted to the corners of her own eyes—to her golden irises, which surely gleamed just as brightly as the Pope’s.
“Therefore, those blessed by God’s affection have a duty to share the grace they have received according to God’s will, to care for others, and to use that power for good.”
“……I see.”
Perhaps it was because she had lived by distrust rather than faith.
Even after hearing the Pope’s words, no sense of duty or responsibility befitting a Saint welled up from within her. She could not fathom the Pope’s unwavering resolve and uprightness.
Sensing the hollowness in her reply, the Pope smiled faintly and continued.
“Of course, this is merely my own understanding and conviction. You need only pursue your own faith as a Saint.”
“…….”
“Though this is confidential—before I understood my own role, I wandered quite a bit. There was even a time I was caught trying to flee without participating in the Salvation Festival ceremony.”
He brought his index finger to his lips and lowered his voice with a slight confession.
“But please do not attempt to flee during the ceremony itself. The Archbishop might use that as an excuse to go to meet God.”
……So he had already known the Archbishop was not well.
The Pope, who had added the remark in jest, turned his gaze toward the window where darkness had settled.
“I am looking forward to tomorrow.”
* * *
The day of the Salvation Festival.
The Grand Temple, always crowded with visitors, now overflowed with people as far as the eye could see.
Sena pressed her forehead against the window, marveling at the bustling scene outside.
“Wow, there are so many people! I bet they’re all here to see the Saint!”
“Really?”
Even at the unwelcome news, Cecilia had no particular thoughts. Because, truly, she had no thoughts at all.
Well—a longing to go home was beginning to swell within her. Unlike her melancholy charge, the excited Sena came bounding over like a rabbit.
“Saint!”
“Hmm?”
The girl glanced nervously at the priests hurrying back and forth, then rose onto her tiptoes to whisper in Cecilia’s ear.
“Today you’re as beautiful as God Himself! Actually, maybe even a little more so!”
Both of the girl’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade as she smiled broadly.
Cecilia gently patted Sena’s head, then turned her gaze to a mirror hanging nearby.
The white Ceremonial Vestments that Kiar had fussed over and tailored were exquisitely elegant, with delicate gold embroidery running from the neckline to the hem. A soft mantle draped across her shoulders fell past her feet to the floor, and a Golden Crown wrought like intertwined leaves gleamed brilliantly upon her head.
From any objective standpoint, she was the very image of holiness incarnate—a Saint.
‘A shell of sanctity, but beneath it, nothing faithful at all.’
As she recalled last night’s conversation with the Pope and allowed a bitter smile to cross her lips—
Touch.
Suddenly, a cool sensation brushed her hand, and she turned her head with a start. Riri had appeared silently, gripping a glass of water tightly.
“I—I thought you might be thirsty, so I brought some water……D—do you need it?”
“No, my throat is actually parched. Thank you, Riri.”
As Cecilia took the glass, her fingers brushed lightly against Riri’s. In an instant, the girl flinched and retreated like a startled squirrel.
“I’m—I’m sorry!”
“Hmm?”
Cecilia released a sound that could have been either a sigh or a question, and looked down at the small, round head with deliberate seriousness.
Riri’s behavior had been odd. Though she had not called for her in days, the girl still hovered near her like a faithful dog—yet whenever Cecilia’s touch or gaze reached her, she trembled like a small creature and seemed at a loss.
‘Does my presence still make her uncomfortable?’
As she sipped water and tried to gauge the girl’s expression hidden behind the Veil, she found herself growing uncomfortable as well.
“Let us go now.”
The Archbishop Kiar had appeared. He stood silent in the doorway, unchanged as ever in his pitch-black priestly robes and dark countenance.
“Oh! Archbishop! We can escort the Saint ourselves…….”
“It is more efficient if those humans with time to waste move things along.”
“……Yes?”
The way the priests bowed their heads in such haste confirmed she was indeed a figure of great standing—yet unlike the Pope, she felt neither warmth nor reverence toward her.
Leaving the tense priests behind, Cecilia followed the Archbishop with cool indifference.
“Are we going straight to the ceremony site?”
“Yes. I trust you’re prepared—though, seeing your ceremonial vestments are flawless, I needn’t worry.”
“Of course.”
Even though they’d been altered several times.
She deliberately avoided the gaze of the robed fanatic beside her and crossed through the Temple. After passing through the familiar corridor, a bright, vast lake came into view, and beyond it, a grandly adorned altar rose into sight.
Candles carved with such ornate brilliance that they drew gasps flickered with scarlet flames; flowers draped the altar’s surroundings; and at their center stood the Pope himself, every inch the image of God’s Proxy. The scene looked entirely different from when she’d previewed it days before.
But what was even more overwhelming was the sheer multitude of people.
The moment Cecilia stepped toward the altar, a wall of humid heat struck her, and a deafening roar erupted. Some of the crowd had spotted the Saint and begun to cry out.
“The Saint! The Saint has appeared!”
Only then, thrown into the living chaos of the moment, did Cecilia truly feel the weight of reality. Having arrived in such a daze, she now stood below the altar, her fist clenched tightly around the folds of her vestments as her formal entrance approached.
The Archbishop, observing her blanched knuckles, spoke first.
“Are you nervous?”
“I was fine until now, but yes—I’m a bit tense.”
“There’s no need to worry. A Saint would surely be watched over by the Divine in any trial.”
Kiar, his words hovering somewhere between mockery and encouragement, placed a light hand upon her shoulder.
Beneath his palm, a pale radiance seemed to flow, and soon a warm current wrapped gently around her frame.
“Now, let’s have you ascend. You may not have prepared with great diligence—well, not at all, really—but in your own way you did, so you’ll do fine.”
In that brief moment of unexpected consideration, Cecilia felt a touch of gratitude before Kiar withdrew his hand and added one final remark.
“Besides, if something goes wrong, I’ll finally get to meet the Divine—which has its own appeal, I suppose.”
‘There it is.’
His tone, as dark and typical as ever, drained the nervousness from her like an ebbing tide.
“If only to thwart the Archbishop’s wishes, I’d better excel.”
Cecilia smiled faintly, her heart considerably lighter as she took her first steps forward.
As she climbed the high altar, she felt the weight of countless eyes upon her. She kept her spine rigid and her stride measured, advancing toward the Pope with careful composure.
She gave a small bow in acknowledgment of his gentle gaze. Once Cecilia took her place behind the Pope, the ceremony continued.
“The Divine spoke to weeping humanity, parched with lack, asking: What sorrow fills you so that you cry and cry again? And humanity answered: Though I fill my belly and quench my thirst, it is like pouring into a vessel full of holes—hollow and hollow still, so I cannot know the existence of joy. Then the Divine answered again: I shall plant a seed within you. If you water it with earnest devotion and bathe it in sunlight, you will surely receive the gift of happiness from a place not far away. Therefore, we who have received the Divine’s grace carry within us, even before any hardship, the seed of happiness—the very possibility of its blooming.”
While the gentle yet forceful prayer was recited, she discreetly surveyed the crowd below.
In the nearest sections she glimpsed high-ranking priests, her father who served as the patriarch of Weberdine, and the unwelcome face of Nox. In a corner, Sena and a handful of junior priests she’d come to know stood with hands clasped, their faces serene as dreamers.
But then…
Nowhere among the masses could she spot the man with the luminous face and violet eyes.
‘Didn’t he come?’
He wouldn’t be the sort to break a promise.
Just as disappointment began to rise, she caught sight of a suspicious figure in a robe at the very edge of the crowd.
‘Surely not—another robe?’
Cecilia nearly laughed aloud but quickly bit her lip to suppress it.
Just then, the Pope’s prayer for blessings and peace drew safely to a close.
“Come here, Saint.”
“Yes.”
Cecilia took a sip of Red Fruit Wine and consumed one Red Fruit that the Pope offered her from the altar.
The Pope then kindled a white flame infused with Divine Power in a prepared torch and handed it to her.
“Under the Divine’s care, we give thanks for the safety and peace of all.”
Cecilia recited a brief prayer glorifying and honoring the Divine, then carefully made her way to a boat at the lake’s edge.
The trailing mantle was terribly cumbersome, but thanks to endless practice, she managed to board the vessel with considerable grace.
The boat drifted slowly toward the center of the lake without any oars, as if drawn by some invisible force.
‘All I have to do is throw this torch into that tower, and it’s done.’
She hurled the torch safely into the great Sacred Flame Tower, and instantly a white inferno blazed upward. The overwhelming flames were not threatening but rather glowed warm like Divine Power itself.
Cecilia watched the flames—more radiance than fire—and finally released the breath she’d been holding.
Just one more journey back, and this burdensome ceremony would be over, along with her entire tiresome Temple life.
But as the saying goes, it isn’t over until it’s truly over.
Crack!
Along with a sinister sound that should never have been heard, her feet grew wet. Impossibly, water from the lake was seeping up through gaps in the boat’s floor.

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