Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 547: What Comes First—Faith or Skill?

The monastery coughed us out—me and the regressor—spitting us back into the world. The children, unaware that we’d just barely escaped death, were still playing happily in the fields. Azzy was rolling around with Lemme’s hair completely wrapped around her. Lemme let out a mournful bleat as her fur got tangled.

“Baa-aa—! Who brought this dog here?! If you brought it, take responsibilityyy!”

“Woof! I! Herd sheep! I’m responsible!”

“Biting doesn’t count as responsibilityyy! Let gooo!”

Lemme, the King of Sheep. The ruler of sheep who follow their shepherd.

Sheep, in truth, are timid and dim-witted. That’s why, since ancient times, humans have been able to herd hundreds of them with nothing but a wooden staff and a single dog. As long as they were led to a field full of food, sheep didn’t really care whether it was a human guiding them or a dog herding them.

That dumb image must’ve appealed to the clergy—sheep became a staple symbol in holy communion.

I could’ve ignored her, but since we ran into each other, I figured I might as well greet her. It’s not like I’m on bad terms with the sheep.

“Sheep. What are you doing here?”

“Can’t you tellll? I’m being tormented by a doggg, human! Get this dog off me! Before all my fur gets messed uppp!”

“Snore...”

“Get up, will youu! Your drool’s matting my furrr!”

Lemme twisted her body, but couldn’t get Azzy off, who clung to her fur like glue.

Wolves are natural enemies of sheep. Dogs are their guides. Though they do the opposite of each other, both have one thing in common—they take sheep where they don’t want to go. Sheep and dogs have a strict hierarchy.

I peeled Azzy off and asked Lemme,

“No, I mean—why are you at the monastery? Not a lot of sheep live around here.”

“I came to receive serviceee!”

Lemme spoke as she tried to untangle the spot Azzy had licked.

“I have soft and fluffy fuuur! But when the wind blows, or it gets wet, or dirt sticks to it, my fur clumps up and feels so stuffyyy!”

She fiddled with her own fur. Even for a King of Beasts, she couldn’t groom all of it herself. With her tiny hands, she couldn’t even reach the full length of her white, thick hair that draped past her knees.

“So I go around looking for someone who’ll groom my fuuur!”

“You came all the way here for someone to comb your fur?”

“Baa-aa! That’s right! The human children here have small and gentle hands, so they don’t hurt me when they groom meee!”

“I’m sure you could get a decent brushing elsewhere too.”

“It’s not about skillll. What matters is the reverence they show meee! Other humans scrub and yank at me, and they try to cut my fur, so I hate ittt!”

“Why? Why not just cut it?”

“I can’ttt! Humans try to yank my fur outtt!”

The King ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) of Sheep’s fur was soft but durable. As a conceptual being among the Kings of Beasts, her fur couldn’t be cut by ordinary means. Try using scissors and they’d just chew up the strands.

Then the regressor chimed in with a suggestion.

“Want me to cut it for you?”

“Baa? Youuu?”

“Yeah. I think my Tianying can cut your fur.”

“Not a chanceee. Human blades can’t cut my fuuur. I’m a sheeep! I don’t like painnn!”

Lemme rejected the regressor’s offer outright. But then, the children began gathering up tufts of wool that had fallen while brushing and handed them to the regressor.

“This is wool left by the Apostle of the Lamb.”

“If you can cut this, we’ll recognize your skill!”

“It’s not easy! We sometimes try string games with this stuff, but once it gets tangled, it’s impossible to untangle! That’s why we pile it all up behind the dorm!”

Innocent children, unaware of danger, approached the regressor without fear. A moment that proved fear is something learned. If it were instinctual, there’s no way they would’ve gone near someone with a face like the regressor’s.

Despite appearances, the regressor wasn’t someone who disliked children. She let the two kids hold the wool taut, then lightly unsheathed Tianying. Ting—the tuft of Lemme’s fur was sliced with the softest whisper of a sound.

“Wow! It cut!”

“Amazing! We tried scissors and saws and nothing worked!”

“Okay! We’ll give you a chance to cut the Apostle of the Lamb’s fur!”

Chattering with excitement, the children turned to Lemme, who responded dubiously,

“Baa-aa? You’re sureee? Fine, I’ll give you a chance to cut my furrr. But only one chance! If you pull it, I’ll ram youuu!”

Waddling over, Lemme lifted her massive head of hair with both hands and offered it to the regressor. Faced with a mound of wool large enough to hide a person, she stayed perfectly calm.

I couldn’t help but feel uneasy and asked,

“Miss Shei, are you sure you can cut it?”

“Of course. You saw it earlier, right? Tianying can cut the King of Sheep’s fur.”

“No, I mean—do you actually know how to cut hair? You don’t seem... handy.”

“What are you talking about? How do you think I’ve been keeping my hair tidy while traveling? I cut it myself, you know?” fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

“Ah, that explains your hair.”

“Want me to shave you bald?”

“...Let’s just cut the fur. Lemme’s waiting.”

Grumbling, the regressor compressed Tianying and heated it. The sword, now steaming with haze, glided softly through Lemme’s hair.

Shff, shff. With a burst of qi, she grasped the fur and sliced diagonally with Tianying. Tufts of Lemme’s fur fell in heaps. Each clump was larger than most people’s hair. Even after dozens of cuts, Lemme’s fur showed no sign of ending.

The snowy white locks floated down like falling snow, capturing everyone’s attention. Me, Azzy, and the children all watched in silence.

As for Lemme, the one receiving the service, she didn’t seem grateful at all. She fidgeted and said,

“Baa-aa. I’m bored. You guys, bring me some grass to chew onnn.”

Acting like some noble lady. I wasn’t the only one who thought she was being spoiled—Azzy suddenly barked at her.

“Woof! Stop!”

“Baa-aack!”

“You can’t move! You’ll get hurt! You and the human both!”

“M-m-mehh... Isn’t it okay to just chew some grass...”

Startled, Lemme shrank back and folded her hands in her lap. Thanks to Azzy, the haircut went much more smoothly. After nearly an hour, the regressor used heated Tianying to curl the ends of Lemme’s hair and brushed her hands off.

“Hm. How’s that? Not bad, right?”

Honestly, saying “not bad” would be underselling it. The regressor’s handiwork was impressive. Not only was the cut clean, but the curled finish at the end showed a sense of style and aesthetics you wouldn’t expect without practice.

Lemme, once buried in messy fur, now looked like a long-haired beauty. The children marveled at her transformed appearance.

“Waaah! So pretty!”

“The Apostle of the Lamb looks so clean and pretty now!”

“I liked the fluffy version too, but this looks so much more comfortable!”

Lemme herself didn’t seem particularly moved, and just glanced nervously at Azzy. You can’t really expect a sheep to have an eye for aesthetics. Maybe she just felt a little less stuffy, at best.

The regressor brushed the loose fur off with a proud voice.

“There. Done.”

“When did you learn to do this?”

“I told you. I’ve had to cut my own hair while traveling.”

‘I trimmed it because I wanted to at least look human, you know. Thanks to the Seven-Colored Eye, I could even see the back of my own head.’

I thought she didn’t care about things like that... but I guess not. Considering the way she fussed over Manhanjeonseok and Rene’s pouch, she actually does keep herself and her surroundings pretty well maintained. Well, if you can manage it, taking care of yourself is always a good thing.

“And also, the Saintess’s blessing helped.”

“Huh? The Saintess’s blessing? What does that have to do with this?”

“Mm? You don’t know? It’s the Saintess’s blessing.”

“What does that even do? I don’t feel any special power or anything.”

“Hmph. So you don’t know everything after all? I mean, when have you ever even received a blessing?”

Maybe it was the success of cutting all that wool that made her puff up a little—she was talking with a mildly smug tone now.

“Each Saintess’s blessing is different depending on their authority. The Iron Saintess gives you the strength to carry out your will. The Saintess of Causality gives you the insight to find what you’re looking for. The Saintess of the Sun illuminates the path ahead. And the Saintess of the Sky... she gives you luck.”

“Luck?”

“Yeah. Whatever you do goes smoothly, and even if obstacles pop up, a way around them appears. Opportunities just fall into your lap before you even realize it. Compared to the other Saintesses’ blessings, which are specific and limited, the blessing of the Saintess of the Sky is vague and wide-ranging. Like a goddess of fortune.”

Luck? What kind of luck. Sure, luck exists, but at the end of the day, it’s just a probability.

“Even today, look at what happened. It’s minor, but I managed to trim the King of Sheep’s wool without leaving a mess. I only learned how to do it by watching others—my technique isn’t that great. But it turned out well, thanks to the blessing.”

“There’s no way... cutting hair is just your own skill.”

“Hey now, just take the compliment.”

“It’s not a compliment. I’m saying it’s weird that you actually believe in the Saintess’s blessing. It’s not like a cult or anything. You really think something you did was thanks to a blessing?”

I can’t exactly say the Saintess’s blessing is powerless. They do have the ability to see the future, after all. But chalking up your own accomplishments to a blessing? That’s even weirder.

“And think about it. If the blessing is so amazing, why would it help with something like trimming Lemme’s fur? That’s just busywork.”

“You never know. Maybe this nicely cut wool will come in handy.”

“What are you going to use wool for, when you’re not even planning to make cloth with it...? And wasn’t the Saintess of the Sky’s command about defeating some ancient evil? No matter how valuable the wool is, it’s not going to stop an ancient evil. Who are you planning to give it to?”

“No harm in keeping it. And who knows? Might come in handy as a gift.”

“What? A gift? In this monastery where the stuff is literally everywhere?”

This place isn’t even touched by civilization. Even if you tried to sell it, no one would buy it. Are you planning to trade it with savages or something? Actually, that might work, but it’s not like they have anything worth trading back.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

And just then—

“Greetings! Is the sister here?!”

A loud voice boomed across the monastery. Loud enough to startle the sheep, the children, even Lemme.

In civilized lands, making a ruckus like that on someone else’s property would be considered an intrusion. But out here in the wilderness, things are different. Dogs that bark don’t bite, and real threats never make a sound. Making your presence known like that is actually a gesture of goodwill.

“A native,” I muttered.

Sister Yeghceria, once again wearing her veil, came out to greet the towering figure with brown skin.

“Though all things under the sky are children of the Celestials, not every child is devout. I’ve heard the native tribes do not serve the Celestials, but rather the Earth Mother. As a servant of the Celestials, I welcome all visitors—but may I ask if you wish to continue this conversation?”

The native tribes—undying people who absorbed clay into their bodies and became similar in substance to earth. They were once the original inhabitants of all nations and now followed a faith centered around a corrupted version of the Earth Mother.

That’s also why there’s only one monastery in this vast barbaric land. In this land teeming with life, wild weeds can’t be uprooted even by the Celestial wind.

But this particular native seemed more open-minded and greeted the sister with proper manners.

“Indeed! I came here to meet the sister!”

Yeghceria spread her arms wide in welcome.

“You are most welcome! Even in this distant land of heresy and savagery, the seed of faith brought on the wind can still take root! I, Yeghceria, sincerely welcome your repentance!”

“Ha ha! I don’t really plan to convert to the Celestials!”

“That’s perfectly fine! The fact that you came here at all is a most hopeful sign! How about reading the sacred text, for starters?”

“No, no, truly, I’m not here for that. I came for, uh... what do you call it, a sacrament? That’s what I’m after!”

“A sacrament?”

“Yes. A marriage sacrament, I believe. In the northern countries, they say you receive the blessing of a priest when you wed, no? My bride is from afar, and I want to respect her customs.”

The undying man laughed heartily and explained himself. He’d brought his bride from a distant land, but their differing village customs had caused some tension. To smooth things over, he wanted to have their union blessed here at the so-called “Bloody Monastery.”

Sure, it was using a sacred rite for convenience, but Yeghceria didn’t care about something so trivial. On the contrary, she looked more delighted, clasping his hands in joy.

“Ah...! This must be true repentance born through love! I have yet to meet the bride, but she must be a woman of sincere faith! Very well. I shall prepare everything to bless your sacred union whenever you are ready!”

“Much obliged! I’ve brought leather and meat with me, so, uh... what do you call it? An offering!”

“We gratefully accept your tithe!”

“And I hope it’s not too bold, but... could I get some kind of token that proves the sacrament will happen? I’d rather not return empty-handed.”

“But of course. As it happens...”

Yeghceria beamed as she looked in our direction. The children who had been carefully bundling up Lemme’s wool caught her gaze.

“We’ve just acquired some wool perfect to serve as a token.”

And in that moment, I felt it. A strange chill.

Discomfort, maybe? Like the sensation of gambling on a rigged board. As if the cards I would draw, the ones I could draw, had already been set. Like I was dancing to someone else’s steps.

The world was snapping into place. In the barbaric lands, wool and leather are daily essentials and treasures. They’re invaluable, irreplaceable resources. And wool from the King of Sheep? Beyond priceless. Just taking some back would earn you honor as a noble guest.

And now, suddenly, the perfect opportunity had appeared. Practically flaunted in front of me.

No way, right? Just coincidence...?

...Or so I wanted to say.

“Hughes.”

“So you noticed too, Miss Shei?”

“Yeah. I get it. That undying man...”

The regressor and I both recognized who he was. Something about this didn’t feel random. And it didn’t feel like the Saintess’s blessing, either—it was... uncanny.

“Ho! Teacher! And young man! Long time no see! What are the odds of meeting here?!”

It was our fellow inmate from Tantalus—the undying man, Rash. He waved at us enthusiastically as he called out.