I Killed an Academy Player — Chapter 294: Webtoon Special Edition – Extra 6 Transfer Student With Experience (6)

Chapter 294: Webtoon Special Edition – Extra 6 Transfer Student With Experience (6)

Five‍‍ days have already‌⁠ passed since I swapped bodies with⁠ my younger sister,‌⁠ Shia.

While‌‌⁠ I was chatting with Sinia and‍ other classmates, one‌ corner became noisy.‍

“Benjamin-senior! May we also‌ participate in this‍‍ prayer?”

“Of⁠⁠ course, sisters. The⁠ gods welcome the‌ visit of that person’s children.”

A classmate was attending to the students⁠ with a refreshing‍‌‍ smile.

It⁠⁠ must have been‍⁠ that guy called‍⁠ Benjamin.

“Now‍‌ that I think‍ about it, the⁠ religious season is⁠⁠ starting.”

“Religious season?”

When⁠ I tilted my head, Leni began‍‍ to explain.

“After⁠ Pope Estelle’s religious reform, the Royal⁠ Academy started holding‍‍‌ mass every week.‌‍ You could say it’s the large-scale⁠‌⁠ activity of the‌⁠ Cult of the‌ Sun God.”

“Ah……”⁠⁠

The⁠‌ Cult of the⁠ Sun God. In‌ other words, they’re‌‌ talking about me,⁠ the Sun God.‍‌‌ The fact that‌⁠ there are people‌ gathering to pray‌‍‍ to me is⁠ a feeling that’s‌ hard to describe.‌

“Benjamin-senior‌ must be busy‍ too. They say‍ he’s in charge‌ of the mass.”‌

“What’s‍‍ with the ‘senior’‍⁠ between classmates?”

“It’s‍ not like that.‍ Benjamin-senior is someone‌ who strongly inherited‍⁠ divine blood.”

Divine‍⁠ blood.

In‌ other words, the‌‌ blood of Danan.‌

Since‌‍ it was revealed‍ that the sacred⁠ power used by⁠‌⁠ clerics is actually‌ divine power manifested‌‌⁠ by those who‍⁠ inherited the blood of the gods,‍ people with a strong inheritance of⁠ divine blood began⁠‌⁠ to be recruited‌‍ into the religious sphere.

They‍ said Benjamin’s family‌ had been a lineage of clerics‌ for generations.

“Well,‌ since Benjamin-senior deeply‍ inherited the blood‍ of the gods,‍‌ it’s not bad‍ that he makes‍‍⁠ a good impression.⁠‌‍ Of course, not‌‍ as much as‌ you, Shia, who‌⁠ are the younger⁠ sister of the‌ chief god.”

Leni‍‌ chuckled, saying that⁠⁠‍ I had become⁠‍ friends with someone⁠⁠ amazing.

Beside⁠‌ me, Sinia took my hand and‍‌⁠ said,

“I…⁠‍ I would have liked Shia even⁠‌ if she weren’t‌⁠ the younger sister‌‍⁠ of the Sun‍⁠ God!”

“Ah…‌⁠ well, thanks?”

Was⁠ it necessary to‌‌ say that while‌‍ holding my hand?⁠⁠‍

“Still,‌⁠ after the religious‌ reform, his career⁠⁠ really took off.⁠ The Rehem family—people say he could‌ even aim to‍‌ become the next‍ pope.”

“If‍ he wants to‌ become pope, I won’t stop him.”⁠

The‌ religious path doesn’t⁠‍ seem easy at all.

“Waa~!‌⁠ Really? Is Benjamin-senior giving the sermon‌ in person?”

“That’s‍ amazing! I want⁠ to hear it!”‌⁠

Benjamin’s‌⁠ expression, as he‍‌ smiled at the believers, looked a little stiff.

***‍

After‍‍ the Solar War‌ ended, the religious⁠ world underwent a great upheaval.

First,‍‌⁠ it was revealed‌ that what had‍⁠‌ previously been believed‍ to be sacred‌‍ power was actually‍ divine power manifested‌ by descendants with‍⁠ the blood of⁠ the gods.

The‌ current scriptures, mixed with ancient myths,‌ proved the real‍‌ existence of the‌ gods.

Well, rather than proving‍⁠ it or not,‍‌ there were Tates‍‌ Valtazar, who extinguished‍‌ the light of⁠ the world, and⁠‌ me, Corin Loch,‌⁠ who manifested the‍⁠ sun to illuminate‍‌ it.

The‍⁠ World Tree stretching into the cosmos‍ and the battle‌‌ fought there could‍‌ not be explained⁠ in any other⁠ way than as⁠⁠ a war of‌ gods.

In‌ short, a new‍ mythology was unveiled,‍⁠ and with it, the scriptures changed.‍

So⁠⁠ then, what is⁠⁠ mass now in‍‍ the religious world?⁠‌

“And‌⁠‌ thus, the Sun‍‍‍ God said, for⁠ the sake of the world I punish you, Demon‍‌ King. Be destroyed.”⁠

It’s‍ propaganda about the new Sun God,‌ the king of‌‍ the gods—in other⁠⁠ words, about me.⁠

Originally,‍⁠‌ sermon time consists‍ of selecting passages‍‌ from the scriptures‌ and explaining them,⁠⁠ but the new‍ scriptures were, in‌‍ many ways, a preliminary work for‍‌ agitation and propaganda.⁠

“The⁠‍ Sun God rose‌ for the sake⁠ of the world,⁠⁠ with a silver‌‌ spear in his right hand and‍ a crimson spear⁠‍ on his left⁠ arm, and swept‍ away the wicked‍‍ hordes of the‍⁠ Demon King.”

“……”⁠

Watching‍ a mass that‌ glorifies me and‍⁠ attributes words to‌‌ me that I never said gives⁠‍ me a lot‌‌ to comment on.‍‌

In‌ any case, after⁠⁠ finishing the propaganda‍⁠ about me, a sermon combining myths⁠‌ and ancient scriptures⁠‍‌ followed.

Yes,⁠‌ this now feels‌ more like a proper sermon.

Estelle⁠‌ said it was‌ a necessary measure, but from the listener’s point of‍‍‌ view, it’s quite‌ uncomfortable.

“Sisters,⁠‌ thank you for⁠‌ your efforts during‌ this long time.”‍⁠

“Benjamin-senior!”⁠

Benjamin,‌ who had officiated⁠⁠ the mass, approached.‍‍

He handed a small pouch to each‌‌‍ of the blushing‍‍ classmates.

“They’re⁠ cookies. I made‍‌‍ them in my‌‌ spare time.”

“Waa~!‌ You made them‌‍ yourself, Benjamin-senior?”

I also received a cookie and took‍⁠ a bite.

Oh~,‌ it’s more elaborate‌⁠ than I expected.‍‍‌

“They’re⁠ really delicious!”

“Who‌ would have thought‌ he was so⁠‍ skilled!”

At⁠ the praise, Benjamin‍ put on a shy expression and‌‌ changed the subject.‍‍

“What‍ did you think‌ of the sermon?”‌

“It⁠ was a good‍ time.”

“Benjamin-senior’s‍⁠ sermon was really‌ impressive.”

“Especially⁠⁠‌ his face… ahahaha.”‍⁠

They’re‍‍ fairly normal responses,‌ but looking at⁠‌ the other girls’‌ expressions, they’re full⁠ of ulterior motives.⁠

“And‌ what do you‍ think, Shia?”

“Well, there were quite‌ a few things‍ that were a bit exaggerated.”

“Oh~‌ Which part are⁠ you referring to?”‍

What you said my⁠‌ brother said when‍‍ he fought the⁠ Demon King. He⁠ didn’t say such⁠‍‍ grandiose things, or‍‍⁠ at least that’s⁠‍ what I was‌ told.”

The truth is, we‍‌ were just busy hitting each other.

We‌ talked about various‌‌ things, but I’ve‌ already forgotten it‌⁠ all.

Neither Valtazar nor I are the type to hold grudges,⁠ so we didn’t⁠ keep that kind‍‌‍ of trivial conversation‌ either.

“And⁠ they also described‌⁠ him as if‌ he were an‌‍ absolutely flawless saint,⁠ but that’s not‌ the case. That man is actually‌⁠ a pretty normal‌ guy.”

I’m‍‍ serious about this.‌ For some reason⁠ I ended up⁠⁠ becoming a god,‍‌ but I don’t⁠‍‌ think I’m a perfect existence like⁠ the scriptures describe.⁠‌

They’re‍ far too idealized.⁠

“That‍ may be so.”‌⁠

Benjamin⁠ smiled and agreed.‍

“But‌ that person achieved‍‍‍ a feat that‌‍⁠ no one else could. Being born‍ with a mortal‍‌ destiny and reaching immortality.”

“He‍ probably doesn’t overthink‌ it. He married‌⁠ beautiful women, and‌ that’s enough for him.”

“Hahaha,‍⁠ the pope is⁠‍ also his wife,‍‌ after all. But⁠⁠ I sincerely respect⁠ him.”

Those⁠ who were moved‍‍ by his words⁠‍ were not me, the person in‌⁠‌ question, but the‍⁠‌ young ladies.

“As⁠⁠⁠ expected of Benjamin-senior.‍ How devout.”

“Some‌‌ belittle him by⁠ saying the Sun‌‌ God is a libertine who goes⁠ around seducing women, but considering his⁠ achievements, that’s insignificant.”⁠‍⁠

“Exactly!”‌‍

Well,‍ if we look‌ at it in‍‍‍ mythological terms, I’d‍ say I occupy a position similar‌ to Zeus.

Is‌‍ this really okay…?‍⁠ Aren’t they venerating⁠‌‍ me too much?‍

In⁠⁠ the midst of that, Benjamin’s expression‍‍‌ seemed to crack‍‍ slightly.

Was‌ it just my‍‌ imagination?

***

After it was revealed‍‌ that the “sacred⁠‍ energy” used by⁠ clerics was in⁠⁠ fact divine power‌ manifested hereditarily by‍ the descendants of‌⁠ the gods, one‍ family drew particular‍‌ attention.

The‌ Rehem family, devoted‍ to the clergy‌ generation after generation.‌

This distinguished lineage had⁠‌ produced several cardinals‍‍‍ and even a pope in the‌⁠ past, which, in other words, meant⁠‌ this: they inherited‍⁠ the blood of⁠⁠ a god in‍ a very pronounced‌ way.

That‍ was why they‌‌ could wield such‌ powerful sacred energy—no,‌ divine power.

Thanks⁠ to this, Pope‌ Estelle elevated Haim Elharar Rehem, former‍ bishop of the‌ Old Church, to⁠⁠ the vacant position‍‌‌ of cardinal left‌⁠ open after the‍ purge.

Elharar⁠‌‍ also possessed great⁠ divine power, but‍ his only son,‍⁠ Benjamin, surpassed him‌‌ to such an⁠ extent that it‍‍ was difficult to‍ compare them.

‘What?⁠⁠⁠ So you and‍⁠ I share a lineage? Would you⁠ be a collateral‌⁠ branch of the⁠ god of the‍‌⁠ earth, Dagda?’

It‌ was nothing less than an official certification from Pope‌ Estelle herself.

When⁠‌⁠ it was confirmed‌ that Benjamin specifically‌ inherited the divinity⁠ of the earth‍⁠ god Dagda Mor,‌ everyone pointed to⁠‍⁠ him as a future cardinal.

Perhaps even as the‍‍ next pope, once‍⁠ Estelle retired.

A true heavyweight.

For‍⁠ that reason, over‌‌ the past few‍ years, Benjamin had⁠ been educated as⁠ a cleric following⁠⁠ the new theological‌ curriculum.

And⁠⁠ the more he‍⁠ advanced through the‌ elite course of‌‌‌ the clergy—

“Ha…⁠ I can’t keep‍ this up.”

Benjamin’s⁠ distrust of the Sun God grew‌⁠ day by day.‌

“Are‍ these people serious?‍ Do they really⁠ intend to spread‌ such blatant propaganda?”‌

Benjamin‍‌‌ scoffed at the‌‌ new canon, snorting⁠‌⁠ in disdain.

There‌⁠ was no trace⁠‌‍ left of the⁠‌⁠ gentle, kind attitude‍‌ he showed in⁠ front of the‍‍ faithful.

“Well…‍ it seems to‍ be working better⁠ than I thought,⁠⁠‍ tsk…”

Observing‍‍‌ the reactions during⁠⁠ the daytime mass,‍⁠ it was clear that the propaganda was sinking in⁠ quite deeply.

Though‍ not for everyone.‍

‘And‌ they even painted‌‍ my brother as⁠⁠‌ if he were‌‍ a perfect, immaculate‍‌ saint, when he’s‍⁠‌ not. That guy‍ is really just⁠ a fairly ordinary‌‍ man.’

The⁠ sister turned out‍ to be surprisingly⁠ objective.

Of‌ course, she had‌⁠ grown up constantly‌ butting heads with‍‌ him; it’s hard⁠ to idolize your‌ own brother.

But‍ aside from that,⁠ a special order‍‌‍ had come from‍‌ his father.

‘Get⁠⁠ close to Shia‍⁠ Loch. She’s that‍‍ person’s sister; she’ll‌⁠‌ surely be useful.’‍

Since‌ surviving Estelle’s great‌‌ purge, his father‌ seemed to have⁠‌ grown far more‍ ambitious for power.⁠

Having‌‌ deeply inherited divine‍ blood, and with‌ Benjamin possessing outstanding‍‍ power, it was‌‍ only natural that‍ such desire would‌‌‍ arise.

Although‌‌ no one who‍‌⁠ knew the current‌ Benjamin would imagine‍‌ it, until three‍ years ago he had lived a life completely unrelated‌‌ to religion.

‘They‌ dragged me out‍ of the bakers’‌⁠⁠ guild by force and suddenly told‍‍‌ me to become⁠‍ a cleric.’

Although‌ the Rehem family⁠ had served the‍‍‌ clergy for generations,‌‍‌ it hadn’t always‍‍ been that way.

In‌⁠⁠ fact, there had‌⁠ been so many⁠‌ bakers that the⁠ lineage was known⁠‌ as “those who⁠ bake bread.”

The‍ surname Rehem, in⁠ the ancient tongue,⁠⁠ means “to bake‍ bread.”

But⁠ after the great‌⁠⁠ purge of the‌⁠ saints, his father changed.

Realizing‍⁠ that he carried‌⁠ divine blood, he‍ began to crave⁠‌ power.

To‍⁠ the point of⁠‍‌ dragging his son—who‍‌ had been learning⁠‍ the trade to⁠ become a full-fledged‌ baker—and forcing him‍ to study the‌ new canon.

“Ah…⁠⁠ I want to‌‍ quit everything.”

Cardinal‍ or whatever—he just⁠‌ wanted to bake‍ bread and live‌‍ that way.

“Well,‍⁠ forcing you to⁠ do something you‌‌‌ don’t want to‍‌ do isn’t good⁠ either, is it?”⁠‍

“…???”⁠⁠

The⁠⁠ voice came from‍ not far away,‍ from the back‌ courtyard of the‍⁠ church where he‍‌ was sighing.

Did she… hear everything?‍

Trembling,‌⁠ he headed toward‌⁠‌ the source of the voice.

There,⁠‌‍ over crackling embers,‌ potatoes were being‌‍ roasted.

“Shia…‌ miss?”

And a wild-looking girl⁠ was peeling a freshly roasted potato‌ while saying, “Ah,‌ it’s hot.”

She‌‌ looked up at⁠⁠ Benjamin.

“Did⁠ you… hear everything?”‍⁠

“From‍‍ when you said you can’t keep⁠ this up?”

Damn‍⁠‍ it. She heard⁠‍ it all.

“T-that’s‌ not what I meant…”

She‌‍‍ was the last‌‌ person who should‌‍ ever hear that.‍‌⁠

The⁠‍ untouchable of the world.

Family‌ of the almighty‌ Sun God.

If‌ this went wrong,⁠‍‌ he would end‍ up like the‌ popes of the‍ Old and New‌⁠⁠ Churches, with his‍ head crushed by a hammer!

“Ah,⁠‌ relax, relax. They‌ say even the‌⁠ king is criticized‌‌‌ behind his back.”‍⁠‌

This‍⁠‌ wasn’t a king.⁠ It was a god.

Much⁠ worse.

“I-it’s‍⁠‌ a misunderstanding.”

“What‍ is? That the‌‍ canon is propaganda?”‍‌‍

“I‌‌ didn’t mean that—”‍‍‌

“But it is. He’s⁠⁠ my brother, but he’s not as‍ grand as they‌‍ make him out‍ to be.”

“N-no,⁠‍ that’s not it.‍‍ Everyone knows how‍‍ extraordinary he is.”⁠

“Well,‌ maybe. As a human, I think‌ he was strong.⁠‌ He made an⁠‌ effort. And although⁠⁠ I shouldn’t be⁠ the one to‍ say it, I don’t think he‍ lived a life‍‍⁠ he regrets.”

Shia‍ evaluated Corin with‌‌ a faint smile and a peculiar‌‌ tone.

“He‌ probably didn’t want‌‌‌ to become a god. It just⁠ happened. Still, if⁠‌ there were something⁠ to leave behind⁠‌‌ as canon, it⁠ would be this one thing.”

“W-what‍ would that be?”‌‌

“That⁠ you don’t need‌⁠ a reason to‍‍ save someone. That⁠ doesn’t depend on⁠‌‌ whether you’re a god or a human, right?”

“…”⁠

She‍⁠ might be right.‌

The‌ canon adorned Corin‍‌‍ Loch with exaggerations‍ and praise, describing‍⁠ him as a perfect existence.

But even setting that⁠ aside, his actions⁠ had always been‌⁠ the same.

He⁠⁠ was someone capable‌ of gathering the‍ courage to save⁠‌‍ others.

That was enough to⁠ respect him.

“All‍‍ right, enough evaluating⁠ my brother. Benjamin.”

“Yes?”‌⁠

“If‌ you have a concern, tell me.⁠ This older sister‌ will listen.”

“We’re‌‌ the same age.”‍⁠‍

“Then⁠‌ talk to me‍‌ without formalities.”

“…I‍‍‍ don’t have any‌ concerns.”

“Oh really? Your face⁠⁠‌ says otherwise.”

If‍⁠‍ he said so…‍‌

Shia‍ let it go⁠ and added, as‍ if remembering something.⁠‍⁠

“By‍⁠ the way, the⁠‍ cookies were good.‌ Don’t you have⁠ more talent for⁠ baking?”

“….”‍‍‍

It⁠ wasn’t a comment⁠ made out of‍⁠‍ courtesy or because‍ of her background.‌

It⁠‍‌ was sincere.

Benjamin‍‍ tried to deny⁠ it.

“Serving⁠‍ the gods is⁠‍ a more important‍ job.”

“Who‍‌‍ says that?”

“Huh?”‌

“Who‍ says being a cleric is more⁠ important than being⁠ a baker?”

“That…‌‍‌ society…”

“That’s⁠ that. But you⁠ are you.”

He⁠ was left speechless.⁠⁠

Where‌‌ did that confidence‍⁠ come from?

But‌‌ Shia continued without hesitation.

“Maybe.‌ But tell me,⁠ how long did‌‍ it take you‌⁠ to bake those⁠ cookies?”

“About‌ three hours in‌ the oven—”

“Not⁠ that. How long‌⁠ did it take‌‍ you to learn‍‌ to make them?”‌‍

Benjamin⁠ thought.

One‍ year?

No,‌ to make them‌‍ properly, at least‌‍‍ three.

And⁠‍ that didn’t even‍ count learning doughs,⁠‍‌ ingredients, proportions.

If⁠‍ he counted everything‍ from the beginning,‍ more than ten‍‌‍ years had passed.‌‍‌

But‍ saying it took‍⁠ ten years just‌ to bake cookies‌ felt embarrassing.

“My‍ brother saved the world, right?”

“…Yes.”⁠‌‌

“But‌ in the end,‌‌ he only defeated‌ the Demon King in direct combat.”‌‍

S-saying‌ it like that…”‌

Weren’t‌ there more complex⁠ processes?

But⁠ to Shia, all‍ of that was‌‍ “small things.”

“They’re‍ small things piled‌‌‍ up. Saving one‍ led to saving many, and that ended up saving‌ the world.”

Doing‌‍‍ one’s best in‌‌‌ the small things.⁠‌

Shia⁠‌ smiled broadly.

“When‍‌⁠ you give your⁠‍ best in something⁠ small, it becomes⁠‍‌ sincere. What is⁠ sincere is reflected‌⁠‍ outward. What is⁠‌ reflected is shown.⁠‍ What is shown‍ shines. What shines‍⁠⁠ moves hearts. What‍‍ moves hearts changes‌ things. And what‍‌ changes, matures.”

“Only‌ those who devote⁠⁠‍ themselves absolutely can change the world.”⁠⁠⁠

It‌‌ started with a single spear technique.‌

A simple technique anyone‌‍ could learn.

He‍‌ rescued a cat⁠ in the sewers.‌

Saved⁠⁠ a girl trapped⁠‍⁠ in a crisis.‌‌

Helped‍‌‍ someone worried about‍ their future.

Rescued⁠ a child consumed⁠‍ by guilt.

Step⁠ by step.

From⁠ the small, from‍ the trivial.

“That’s⁠ how he saved‌ the world.”

Compared to that, baking‍‌ cookies might seem⁠‌‍ insignificant.

“But‌⁠ my brother also⁠ started from something insignificant and ended up saving the‌ world. Who knows?‌ Maybe your cookies‌‍ will move people’s‌ hearts. And perhaps⁠⁠ that will be⁠ more magnificent than‍‍ your work as⁠ a cleric.”

There are no insignificant⁠ things.

“…..”⁠⁠⁠

Benjamin‌‍‍ fell silent, as‍ if frozen.

Unexpected‍ advice.

A new perspective on⁠ something he had always considered small.

This‍ girl truly believed‍ it.

“Oh,‍‍ right. The cookies were good. This‍ is the payment.”‌

Fsh!⁠‌

Shia‍ tossed him a peeled potato.

She⁠‌ took hers and‌ vanished with the‌ wind.