Chapter 26: Anna

A dirty, semi-transparent layer of fish bladder covered the farmhouse window, stubbornly resisting the bleak cold wind outside.

Lin En’s figure blended into the shadow in the corner, like a ghost that did not exist.

His spiritual power had already transformed into invisible tendrils, easily penetrating the thin barrier and projecting the scene inside the house clearly into his mind.

The scene inside confirmed his previous perception, yet also exceeded his expectations.

Under a dim oil lamp, a young girl in a simple gray nun’s habit knelt between several temporary sickbeds lined with dry straw.

She looked no more than sixteen or seventeen, her flaxen hair simply tied behind her head, though a few stray strands hung over her pale cheeks.

Her complexion was even worse than that of the children lying there—a grayish pallor as if her vitality was silently being drained away.

Each breath she took trembled slightly.

Clearly, she herself had long been infected by the Mimic Blight Fungus.

Lin En saw the girl lean forward, pressing her trembling palm against the forehead of a feverish boy.

A soft, milky glow lit up from her palm.

That light was extremely faint, like a candle flickering in the wind, ready to go out at any moment.

Lin En’s crystal core instantly analyzed the energy fluctuation.

This was the lowest level of Saintlight, with calming and purifying effects.

The Sacred Light Healing he had received from Archbishop Edmund was a hundred times more powerful than this.

In his spiritual power’s vision, he could clearly perceive that under the weak Saintlight, the Mimic Blight Fungus within the boy—symbols of plague—curled up and retreated as if facing their nemesis.

This proved that Saintlight was indeed effective against this plague, a true remedy.

However, the light was simply too weak.

As soon as the Saintlight faded, the suppressed Mimic Blight Fungus immediately spread again, even more rampant than before, as if mocking this futile resistance.

A conclusion formed instantly in Lin En’s mind.

The method was correct, but the caster’s power was already exhausted, unable to reach the Threshold needed for eradication.

Each flicker of Saintlight seemed to draw directly from her life force as fuel, a hopeless war of attrition.

When the light faded, the girl’s body visibly swayed.

She braced herself against the wall to steady herself, a suppressed cough escaping her throat, making her already pale face grow even grayer.

Even so, she forced herself to stand, turning to fetch a damp cloth to wipe another child’s body.

Her movements remained gentle yet firm.

With a wet cloth, she carefully wiped the burning forehead of a boy, softly humming an off-key lullaby.

When a faint moan sounded from another corner, she immediately rose, carrying a bowl of water, and carefully fed a small spoonful of clear water into the cracked lips of a girl.

Lin En’s mind analyzed coldly.

Her life signs were highly unstable, her spiritual fluctuations weak.

If this continued, she would collapse sooner than the children.

“Sister Anna…”

A slightly older boy spoke weakly.

“Are we going to die? Like… Uncle Sam at the village entrance?”

“No, Huck.”

The nun called Anna turned, smiling at him.

Though the smile was strained by weakness.

“The Light God will not abandon His people. Reinforcements from Logtown… will arrive soon.”

Logtown?

Lin En had seen it on the map—a mid-sized town at least three days from here, with a branch of the Holy Light Church.

Did she come from the Logtown Church?

Alone, from Logtown to this plague-ridden land of death?

Lin En’s thoughts stalled for a moment.

This did not align with the survival rules he had learned in this world.

He was not incapable of understanding such actions—sacrificing life for rescue.

On the contrary, precisely because he came from a world of order and civilization, he understood how precious—and fragile—such selfless kindness was.

A mix of intense curiosity, immense surprise, and a deeply buried resonance, even within himself, made him pause.

He wanted to see, in this land soaked in plague and despair, what kind of faith could support this girl to sacrifice her own life.

He stepped out of the shadows, tidying his hood blown by the wind, adjusting his breath and heartbeat to appear as a weary, weak, and harmless traveler.

Then, he raised his hand and gently knocked on the ajar wooden door.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

The sounds inside stopped abruptly.

Anna stood up, shielding the children, eyes full of vigilance.

“Who?”

“A lost traveler.”

Lin En’s voice was deliberately low, with just the right amount of hoarseness and fatigue.

“I passed by… and wanted… to beg for some water.”

The door opened a crack.

Anna’s pale face appeared behind it.

When she saw Lin En was just a weary lone traveler, her vigilance relaxed slightly, but was immediately replaced by deeper worry.

“Leave here quickly!”

Her first reaction was to drive him away.

“Sir, there is a terrible plague here. You cannot enter. Go! The farther you go, the better!”

Lin En did not move, simply looking at her quietly.

“It’s getting dark outside. I… I truly can’t walk anymore.”

His performance was flawless.

Looking at Lin En’s tired appearance and his thin traveling clothes in the cold wind, Anna’s resolve wavered.

She bit her lip, struggling internally.

In the end, the kindness rooted deep in her soul overcame rational caution.

“…Then… come in.”

She sighed, fully opening the door.

“But please, do not approach the children—they are ill.”

Lin En entered the house, the strong scent of herbs and decay making him frown slightly.

He sat in the corner closest to the door as told.

Anna turned, carefully scooping out a small clay pot from a nearly empty burlap sack in the corner, then drew the last bit of clear water from a wooden barrel nearby.

She placed the clay pot over the dim flame of the oil lamp, slowly cooking.

Inside the pot was a meager amount of porridge.

Soon, a faint aroma of oats spread in the deathly room.

Anna served all the hot porridge into a small bowl—barely enough to fill it—and brought it to Lin En.

“Drink, traveler. Drink while it’s hot. It will help restore your strength.”

Lin En silently accepted the bowl radiating faint heat.

The bowl was coarse, even chipped, but there was a strange warmth in his hands.

He did not drink immediately.

Instead, he saw Anna turn away after handing him the bowl.

She picked up the wooden spoon used to serve the porridge, which still had a trace of residue, then quickly stuck out her tongue and licked the last bit of warmth and flavor clean from the spoon.

After this, she turned to care for the children, as if the action had never occurred.

Lin En’s ever-cold heart, always seeking optimal solutions, felt as if an invisible hand had gently squeezed it.

Logic told him this was irrational resource allocation—a fatal error in survival strategy.

Yet a deeper emotion, like a tsunami, crashed against the mental walls of caution he had built in this world.

He was not without feelings.

Fighting in the Ashen Forest to protect Veil, the anxiety for his mother’s life—all proved the burning fire in his heart.

Yet this world’s cruelty far surpassed his previous life, like a cold quenching agent, hardening and sharpening him again and again, making him accustomed to hiding his softness.

He dared not trust easily, was stingy with trust, afraid it would become a fatal weakness.

He protected his heart like a precision instrument, focusing only on his core goals.

But this girl named Anna, and the last bowl of hot porridge in her hands, were like a faint but pure beam of light—irresistibly hot, piercing his layers of icy shell.

That light was not blinding, but carried a warm power, shining directly on a well-protected, dust-covered corner of his heart.

He thought of Uncle Hank, the priest of Oak Town—a devoted Holy Light Church believer with a noble soul.

Though limited in ability, he still stood up for his townspeople without hesitation.

Last time, when his mother was injured by bandits, it was thanks to Uncle Hank’s desperate help that her life was saved.

He lowered his head slowly, gazing at the small bowl of porridge—just enough for an adult to take a few sips.

This bowl was her last ration, the final energy keeping her alive in this village of death.

And she had given it all to a stranger she did not know.

For herself, only the lingering taste on the spoon remained.

Lin En held the bowl for a long time without moving.

He raised his head.

For the first time, the gaze beneath his hood lost its cold observation and analysis, replaced by complex emotions even he could not understand.

“Are you also from the Holy Light Church?”

He asked, voice hoarse.

“I am a Servant of the Logtown Church, Anna.”

Anna replied softly while wiping a girl’s face with a damp cloth.

“Why did you come here?”

Lin En’s question was sharp and direct.

“You knew there was plague here—coming is a death sentence. It’s meaningless.”

“I am a servant of the Light God. My duty is to bring light to those shrouded in darkness.”

Anna’s reply was calm and matter-of-fact, as if speaking of eating or drinking.

“My power is insignificant, but as long as I can stand, I cannot watch them die before my eyes.”

She paused, raising her head.

A gentle remembrance appeared on her pale face.

“The Pope once taught us that true faith is not praying in the church, but walking in suffering.”

The Pope?

The most exalted person in this world—could he truly speak such teachings?

Walking in suffering.

It seemed this world was not as hopeless as he imagined.

Even in the darkest, most desperate corners, there were still those willing to burn themselves to warm others, asking nothing in return, not even if it was worth it.