Priests don't get breaks.
Day after day, I patch together heroes who've been torn apart and tossed aside, only for them to run off and get shredded again. Then they come back, and I stitch them up once more. It's a cycle. A bloody, ridiculous loop.
Not that it's any different for them. They die, they revive, they die again. And yet, somehow, they never seem to get tired of it. Guess it helps that they barely realize they've died at all. To them, it's just: lose the fight, wake up in church, ready to go again. Must be nice, living that oblivious life.
Still—being able to resurrect? That's absurdly overpowered. A total cheat. If they've got that kind of divine trump card, why not just wipe out the demons already?
See, the demons are the ones pulling the strings behind all the monsters. They're the "Demonkind"—the kings in this twisted game of chess. Kill one, and the war's over. But if you can't touch them, the pawns keep spawning forever. No end in sight.
Problem is, those bastards are really strong. Apparently, even resurrection barely dents their advantage. Depressing, isn't it?
"Priest! Over here, hurry up with this one!"
"Hey, hey! There's a line, remember? Priest, my party first!"
"Priest-san!"
Ah, right. No time for brooding—my little chicks are chirping again.
I kneel beside a pile of what used to be a hero—flesh smashed apart like tofu dropped from the fifth floor—and start reassembling the pieces. Humans are way too fragile. Honestly, if God really wanted to protect us, shouldn't divine blessing come with some durability upgrades? Resurrection alone feels... stingy.
Yeah, we get a minor stat boost, sure. But still. So plain. So miserly.
* * *
Sometimes I think the Goddess is just enjoying watching us flail around. Like a kid making beetles fight for fun.
Only difference is, humans are too weak to make for a good show. We're not beetles—we're June bugs. Pathetic little things getting pummeled endlessly by something way stronger.
Maybe that's why the "Children" decided to give us a handicap—like gluing a metal spike on the bug's head so it stands a chance. That's what divine blessings feel like: a pity accessory.
I glance up at the great statue of the Goddess—a tall, half-draped beauty frozen in marble grace.
Yeah, no way. She doesn't look like someone who pits insects against each other for fun. More like... a child would. A little girl.
A loli Goddess. Makes more sense.
'My, what a blasphemous priest you are.'
Knew it. Definitely a loli.
A silver-haired girl looks down at me, her thin gown clinging to her body, haloed in light. She's the spitting image of the statue—only smaller, more human. And very much a loli.
The world around us is white and endless—no walls, no ceiling, no floor. The noisy heroes are gone. Silence reigns. Just me and her.
"......"
'...Won't you say something? I should appear in the form you imagine the Goddess to be. Unless you were expecting something more indecent?'
"No, no! Of course not. I was just... struck speechless by your divine presence."
Right. Play it cool. This is huge. Even high bishops who spend their entire lives praying never meet the Goddess. And yet here she is.
Then again, there was that priest who took some sketchy drugs to "summon the Goddess" and got arrested... Wait. Did I take something? No, no way. I'm a pure, honest priest.
Still... maybe it's just stress. Hallucinations, maybe.
'There you go again. Always thinking strange thoughts. You pretend to be diligent, but deep down you mock me. Using my statue as a dumbbell, selling fake holy water, calling me... "loli." What does that even mean?'
Crap. She can read my mind.
Stay calm. Prime numbers. Think prime numbers.
She smiles—a faint, knowing smirk that makes my stomach drop.
'Fufu... it's fine. I rather like that about you.'
Wait, seriously? God's into that?
'Yes. Watching you isn't exactly pleasant, but seeing you struggle a little—it's refreshing. A fine balance.'
...Wait. That's supposed to be a compliment?
'Assigning you to that church in Fegefeuer was the right choice. Few could endure it as you have. Your skills are sharp, your mind resilient... and you possess a rare talent.'
Oh no. No, no, no. I refuse. I won't accept that!
So not only am I mildly disliked by God, I'm also stuck in that cursed church because of it? Absolutely not. I want the peaceful kind—the one with flower gardens and sunlight, not the creepy gothic one. I want to grow vegetables, not Alraunes!
'Regardless of what you want, dying would make all of this meaningless, wouldn't it?'
Her words hit like a blade of cold air.
Wait—dying? Me?
But I don't fight. I'm not out there on the battlefield. So who's going to kill me? Someone close? Margaret? Rielle? Gram? Damn it... there are too many suspects.
'Darkness is closing in on you and your church. If you die, it would bore me terribly... so I'm counting on you, Julius.'
Wha—no, wait! At least tell me who! Give me some kind of warning or plan!
Too late. The Goddess looks down on me with the same expression a child gives a doomed bug—half pity, half curiosity.
Like she's already chosen her favorite outcome.
Notes:
• Rielle - A female hero dressed in garish pastel colors, hopelessly in love with Julius and persistently pestering him, known for her necromantic abilities and erratic behavior..
• Gram - a male thug-like hero who frequently forgets to pay resurrection fees, occasionally snaps and tries to kill Julius, yet kind to children.
• Julius - The Main Character.