212 – EP.9 Foundation for Adults-2
***
Contrary to what Lumen said, Maria did not adapt to daily life.
Daily life. What is it?
Maria asked a fundamental question.
Wasn’t every day spent with the saint a daily routine for me?
She asked herself as she polished the blade of her greatsword.
Wrapping an old cloth around a great sword, she remembers the time she spent with the saint.
When you knock and enter the room, you will find the saint, who sleeps a lot in the morning, squirming in bed.
Then she removes the curtain covering the window and looks back at him, bathed in the brilliant sunlight.
The face of a saint still in a dream.
She gazes at that sculptural face in fascination for a moment, then clears her throat and calls out to him.
Saint. Saint.
It’s time to wake up, saint.
When you call him like that, he moves a few times under the cozy blanket and then slowly opens his eyes.
Mysterious blue eyes.
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The saint, who identified himself with blurred vision, spoke with a smile like the soft warmth of spring sunlight.
Good morning, Sister Maria.
Ah, what a warm sound it is.
Her hand is tightly wrapped as she wraps the cloth around the sword.
While the saint slowly unwinds her still-sleeping body, Mary prepares water for him to wash.
Then she leaves the room for a moment.
It was a 10 to 15 minute wait, but to her it felt longer than any other event or ritual.
As she waited endlessly for his voice, she heard his voice coming from inside the room.
We are ready, Sister Maria.
Then she brightly answers “Yes” And follows the saint half a step behind as he heads toward the restaurant.
That’s Maria’s daily life.
Interrogating the prisoners in her smelly dungeon would not be part of her daily routine.
Maria thought so.
She remembers the rainy night.
The saint was disappointed in me.
The stairs leading to the dungeon were long.
Going down for a while, she felt the musty smell of the basement.
Now, the feelings I had before meeting the saint, which I thought I had forgotten, are coming back to me.
She thinks.
We must return the saint’s heart.
The prisons were illuminated in dim light.
What is unusual is that there were no iron bars in the prison here.
Because it was both a prison and an interrogation room.
Maria opened the door to the assigned interrogation room.
You can see the criminal sitting on a cold iron chair.
“Ugh… Uh huh….”
A man whose limbs are tied to a chair trembles at the sight of Maria.
This was because it was very clear what the appearance of the Inquisitor meant.
“Juan Daris”
The name of the sinner comes out of Mary’s mouth.
“Confess your sins while God’s mercy rests upon you.”
Maria proceeded with the procedure she was familiar with.
“Well, I… I really… Don’t know! It’s true! Judge!!”
Her sinner cried out to her with tears in his eyes.
Her desperate cry rang through the interrogation room.
“…….”
Maria closed her eyes for a moment. She was bothered by the babbling of a sinner who didn’t know how to use her money.
Oh my God. Forgive this sinner.
Maria walked to the wall.
Her sinner’s eyes followed her and trembled when they saw the tools hanging on her wall.
“Uh… Uh…! Please…!”
A rusty nail making a clanging sound is taken out of the hammer and box.
The man trembles. A foul-smelling liquid flows down his lower body and onto the floor.
Maria frowned for a moment, but then she took out a nail from her box as if she was used to it.
“Please, please, please… Oh god, please… Please… Jebaaagggaaaga!!!”
With one blow, the man’s prayers were transformed into screams.
Mary drove her nail into the first joint of her index finger.
The screams of the beast spread throughout the interrogation room.
Maria brought her face close to the man who was writhing in pain.
The man’s face was reflected in green eyes with deep shadows.
“You still see the devil in your eyes.”
The cruel Inquisitor decided.
Inquisitors are weaker than Paladins.
“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything. My sins… All my sins… Eggaaah!!!”
A nail is driven into the first joint of the middle finger.
The body of the bound man was shaking, and unidentifiable secretions were flowing from his mouth.
Inquisitors are weaker than Paladins.
“Ughhh!!!”
Another nail struck on the first joint of the ring finger.
Inquisitors are weaker than Paladins.
That is correct.
The Inquisitor does not need force to subdue the target.
I just needed force to make the target open his mouth.
“I want to see the saint.”
Mary muttered forlornly, looking like she had never shown the saint.
In front of her, a man who fainted from her pain was periodically flinching, testifying to his survival.