The sacred radiance slowly faded away, but the soul-cleansing warmth remained etched into every inch of Fallen Leaf Village and every person’s heart.
The deathly silence of the night was completely broken.
What echoed now was no longer the coughing of the dying or the wails of despair, but suppressed sobs and the cries of those reborn.
One wooden door after another was flung open.
Those who emerged were no longer shambling corpses awaiting death, but survivors with fire burning in their eyes and tear-streaked faces.
They had checked their own bodies, embraced family restored to health.
There was no longer any need to confirm the reality of the miracle.
Now, they were driven by a powerful, shared emotion—
Gratitude.
They poured from their homes and gathered in the village square, drawn by an invisible force, every gaze filled with near-mad reverence, fixed on the same direction.
There, at the heart of the miracle’s pillar of light, stood the farmhouse that had sheltered the most dying.
At that moment, the farmhouse door swung open from within.
Sister Anna stepped out slowly.
She had just returned a healthy child to his mother, still overwhelmed by the awe and gratitude of having her prayers answered by the divine.
She wanted to check on the rest of the village, but as she lifted her head, she froze.
All the survivors of the village, a dark mass, stood not far away, gazing at her with eyes she had never seen before—blending awe, fervor, and worship.
The night wind fluttered her simple nun’s robe.
It was as if the remnants of sacred light still clung to her, and the air between her and the villagers seemed frozen.
“It’s… It’s Sister Anna…”
From within the crowd, someone’s trembling voice spoke the first words.
That sentence fell like a spark on a lake, igniting the pent-up frenzy in everyone’s chest.
“It was her prayer! Her prayer moved the divine!”
“She saved us! She is the Saintess walking this land!”
An elderly man, weathered by years, was the first to kneel heavily, pressing his forehead to the ground.
The gesture was contagious.
The next moment, those beside him, then those farther away—every saved villager—fell to their knees like a field of wheat swept by a great wave.
They faced Anna, this Saintess in their eyes, offering their humblest and most devout worship.
News, with the wings of a bird, carried the name of “miracle” and “Saintess” beyond the forest, flying to Logtown and spreading wildly to far places.
Amidst the frenzy and throng, Anna searched for that familiar figure.
At last, she saw Lin En slinging his simple pack, preparing to slip away unnoticed.
He looked the same as always, as if last night’s miracle and the village’s rebirth had nothing to do with a passing traveler like him.
“Lin En!”
Anna ran to him, her face shining with the joy of survival and sincere blessing, her clear eyes dazzling in the morning light.
She thought he was just a fortunate passerby and felt genuine happiness for him.
From her pocket, she took a Peace Talisman, woven overnight from fine hemp string, and handed it to Lin En with solemn care.
The Peace Talisman had lain beside her the previous night, soaked through by the holy light of the miracle.
Anna’s gaze was pure and sincere.
“Lin En, please take it.
Last night, as the miracle descended, this Peace Talisman was also bathed in Divine Grace.
May its light forever shield you and your family from misfortune on your journey.”
Lin En’s eyes fell on the tiny talisman, then slowly lifted to Anna.
In the morning glow, her smile was holy and beautiful, without a trace of impurity.
She didn’t know that the Divine Grace she spoke of came from the very person she wished to bless.
As his fingertips touched the talisman, he could even sense the lingering resonance of his own power, and…
The unique warmth that belonged to Anna.
Moments from their days together flashed through his mind—her focused clumsiness as she mended his sleeve, the light in her eyes when sharing her faith, her contentment sipping soup, and the resolve with which she burned herself to save others.
A complex tide surged in Lin En’s heart—reluctance, warmth, and a loneliness no one else could understand.
In the end, he only gripped the Peace Talisman tightly, treasuring it as he placed it against his chest, and nodded solemnly.
“Thank you.”
Countless words condensed into the simplest two.
After their farewell, Lin En turned and left, his figure vanishing into the forest morning mist without ever looking back.
At that moment, in different places and in utterly different ways, the gears of fate began to turn madly.
In Logtown and the regions beyond, the tale of the Fallen Leaf Village miracle was spreading with astonishing speed.
A kind-hearted nun’s devout prayer had moved the God of Light, purging an entire village of the plague.
For those struggling to survive in the shadows of a chaotic world, this story was an exhilarating gospel.
The name of Saintess Anna moved from whispered tavern rumors to public praise in the plazas.
Countless people tormented by illness and despair began to regard Fallen Leaf Village as the last Hope.
Waves of Pilgrims poured in from all directions, families in tow, just to catch a glimpse of the Saintess who walked the earth and beg for her mercy.
At the same time, far away in the Cathedral Holy City beyond a mortal’s reach.
In the depths of a grand sanctuary beyond human craftsmanship, Cardinal Augustus stood before a massive Holy Relic.
The relic was composed of countless interlocking silver rings, at its center a flawless crystal suspended, and within the crystal shimmered a miniature map of the continent.
This was one of the supreme secret treasures of the Church—the Eye of God.
Last night, the light marking Logtown’s border had suddenly erupted with unprecedented brilliance, its purity and vastness so great that even the relic itself began to hum.
Augustus’s brows furrowed.
His eyes, sharp as an eagle’s, held no fanatic devotion—only the scrutiny and chill of a scholar.
His cold fingertips traced the now-quiet area on the crystal map, his voice low and solemn, as if declaring a sacred theorem:
“Every strand of Holy Light we guide bears the echo of doctrine and the mark of the Emblem.
It is proof that Divine Grace returns to our order.”
His eyes glinted with inquiry and possessiveness as he spoke each word.
“But that light last night… It was so powerful, yet it bore no mark.”
“It was so pure… As if it was the original Divine Grace before the Holy Scripture was ever written.”
Augustus slowly turned and issued an order to the shadows behind him.
“Go to Fallen Leaf Village and bring back the nun called Anna.”
His voice was devoid of emotion, yet carried an undeniable authority.
“I need to know which god answered her prayer.”