My Family in the Novel?

Chapter 29: Foolish Saintess 4

In a realm enveloped by infinite white skies, a radiant figure appeared. A beautiful woman with golden blonde hair and shimmering golden eyes watched as her visitor approached. This chapter is updat𝓮d by nov(e)(l)biin.com

"Why are you here, Cali?" she inquired, her voice a melodic blend of curiosity and concern.

Cali, the silver-haired woman, chuckled softly as she settled into a white chair. "Oh, my, am I not allowed to visit my beloved sister?"

The golden-haired woman's expression remained unchanged; her eyes unwavering. "You and I both know that's not your true intention. Now speak, why have you come?"

Cali sighed, her laughter fading. "You really are no fun, huh? I just came to check on you, you know. After all, you did fight those monsters."

"That's it? Nothing else?" Her sister's gaze bore into her.

"Of course. What else could I have come for, personally visiting you like this?"

"I don't know, like fooling around?" the golden-haired woman retorted.

Cali shrugged and gazed up at the boundless white skies. "How rude of you."

"So, they're still trying to enter, huh?" Calissia asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, and it's getting harder by the day. I was just lucky last time when I was able to sever their hold on this world by attacking their apostle. But I don't know how long I will last. Each of these beings possesses the strength of a primordial."

"Wait, seriously? A monster with the strength of a primordial god?" Calissia exclaimed, her silver hair shimmering in surprise.

"Yes, and they're not monsters. The amount of divinity I felt from them makes them more akin to gods than mere powerful beasts or monsters."

"What? There's no way! Although I was far away from the pantheon during their attack, I still felt their presence. The level of abnormality I sensed from them made them seem more like unfiltered demons or perhaps a mixture of both divine and demonic forces. Is that even possible? What are they truly?"

"That, I also don't know, Cali. I'm just doing my best to prevent them from influencing the realm right now. Although they're calm at the moment, I don't know when they will start acting up again, especially that giant pale hand. Probably only you, me, and Kadrak can survive being touched by that entity."

For the first time in her immortal existence, Calissia, the goddess of the elves in this world, felt a shiver of fear course through her. The unknown nature of these beings and the extent of their power left her filled with dread.

"They won't break out, right?" Cali asked as she gazed upon the colossal, dark crack that marred the otherwise pristine sky.

"For now, I'm holding them at bay. But I can't predict how long that will last," the golden-haired goddess replied with a weary expression. "I'm postponing calling a meeting of the entire pantheon to prevent widespread panic, but I can see that a meeting is becoming increasingly necessary. I can't even leave this place, as I have to continuously channel my energy into sealing the crack in space."

"Then should I call for a meeting?" Cali inquired, concern etching her features.

The goddess shook her head. "Not yet. Summon the rulers of each realm instead. Calling all the gods now would only lead to chaos, and we can't trust everyone."

Cali nodded in agreement. "I guess you're right. Well, then, good luck, sis. Don't break, okay?" With those words, she vanished in a shower of shimmering silver light, teleporting away.

Alone again, the goddess turned her gaze upward to the turbulent skies. Her voice, soft but determined, murmured, "I don't know what you beings are, or what entity that child with your influence is, but one thing I promise you for certain: "you won't be touching my realm."

….

'Dark'

I saw nothing but darkness.

My consciousness drifted in a sea of darkness, the only sensation being a faint whisper that seemed to call my name.

"Ia," I heard, the voice barely audible. Confusion washed over me as I wondered where I was and why it was so dark.

"…Ian," the voice persisted, gaining clarity with each repetition. It was a voice that resonated deeply within me, one that I knew intimately.

"Ian!" With a sudden surge, the voice grew louder, and I felt like thousands of pale white hands erupted from all directions, as if they were trying to embrace me. It was a surreal and disorienting experience, and I struggled to make sense of it.

Turning around, I saw her—an ethereal woman with ebony-black hair and eyes that seemed to hold the entire galaxy within their depths. She was seated on a throne made of pale hands, gazing at me with warmth and affection that penetrated my very soul.

"Mom!" I cried out as I woke up, the dream still fresh in my mind. The transition from that surreal realm to the waking world left me momentarily dazed.

"You're awake, master?" Meralda's voice brought me back to reality, and I realized I had spoken aloud. Her curious gaze bore into me, and she couldn't help but inquire, "And what do you mean by 'mom'?"

I hesitated, grappling with the strange dream and the emotions it had stirred within me. "No, it's nothing," I replied, brushing off her question. Instead, I decided to change the subject. "What time is it?"

Meralda, always dutiful, checked the time. "It's currently 2:00 PM in the afternoon. The plan is going smoothly."

"Good," I replied, relieved that things were going according to our designs. Both of us were perched on a nearby rooftop, strategically positioned to monitor the worksite where the saintess and the slum residents were laboring. Our goal was to observe how events unfolded and, if necessary, intervene to ensure that my predictions about the saintess came to pass.

The sun hung high in the sky as we watched the workers below, waiting for the opportune moment to set our plan into motion.

I couldn't shake the feeling that the strange experience I had just encountered was more than just a dream. The voice, the sensation of being surrounded by those pale hands, and the vision of my mother—it all felt eerily real. Could it be that my mother was trying to make contact with me from wherever she was?

To find some answers, I decided to access my status.

[Name: Adrian Vulter Tellus (Ian Astrea)]

[Lv: 92] [Gender: Male]

[Age: 18 (23)] [Title: The anomaly] [+4 New]

[Mana: 5500/5500]+500 [Aura: 8500/8500]+500

[Recovery Speed: A] [Agility: S]

[Stamina: A] [Strength: S]

[Intelligence: A] [Willpower: A]

[Authorities:]

{Attribute: Darkness, Fire, Death, Mystic}

[Authority: Mother's Embrace: {S@#le!}]

[Authority: Dream of the Night: {Sealed}]

[Authority: Touch of the Crying Doll: {Sealed}]

[Authority: Eyes of the wondering crow: {Passive}]

[Authority: Domain of the Fiery Scales: {Sealed}]

{Attribute: Light, Creation, Life}

[Authority: Sword of Light: {Active}]

[Authority: Lionheart: {Passive}]

[Authority: Stellar Solaris: {Active}]

[Authority: White Veil: {Active}]

[Mission: Save the World]

As I opened the interface, I noticed something unusual. My mother's authority, which had been dormant for so long, seemed to be bugging out. This couldn't be a coincidence. It had to be related to the inexplicable encounter I had just experienced.

A sense of anticipation and curiosity filled me. What was my mother trying to convey to me, and why now?

….

In the scorching heat of the day, tensions were running high among the laborers at the construction site. They had been toiling away tirelessly, their bodies drenched in sweat, and their patience wearing thin. Edgar and Gareth, two of the workers, found themselves at odds, their tempers flaring as they exchanged heated words.

"Hey, Edgar, I told you to place this shaft over there, didn't I?" Gareth's voice was laced with frustration.

"Hah? You do it yourself, old man. I'm exhausted here," Edgar shot back, his voice trembling with exhaustion. "We ran out of water a while ago, and you're still trying to make us work in this blistering heat?"

Their argument was drawing the attention of the other laborers, who had momentarily stopped their tasks to watch the brewing conflict.

"Huh? What did you say? The only reason I'm asking you is because you're the one who did the least amount of work," Gareth accused, pointing an accusing finger at Edgar.

"What do you mean by that?" Edgar asked, his anger rising.

Gareth looked around at their fellow workers, gesturing to the construction site.

"You know what I mean. Everyone can see that you did the least amount of work, and you're the one who emptied our water bottle, for goddess's sake!"

The tension in the air was palpable, and it seemed like a fight was about to break out between the two men. Their fists were clenched, and anger clouded their judgment.

Just as the situation was spiraling out of control, the saintess, who had been overseeing their work, stepped in with a commanding presence.

"What's going on here?" Her voice cut through the heated argument like a soothing breeze.

The workers turned their attention to the saintess, their faces flushed with embarrassment for letting their tempers get the best of them. Edgar and Gareth exchanged a begrudging glance but quickly composed themselves in the presence of the saintess.

Gareth spoke up first, trying to save face. "We were just having a disagreement, sister. It won't happen again."

The saintess nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "I understand that the work is hard, and the conditions are challenging, but we must work together as a community. Let's not forget the teachings of the goddess—to support and help one another."

Her words seemed to resonate with the workers, and the tension dissipated as they returned to their tasks, their bickering forgotten, at least for the time being.

Amid the fragile peace that had been temporarily restored, a sudden, thunderous boom echoed through the air, shattering the calm. Startled cries and shouts filled the atmosphere, shattering the newfound tranquility, and all eyes turned toward the source of the disturbance. It was evident that a fight had erupted not too far from where the saintess and the laborers were gathered.

The saintess's face showed deep concern, and without hesitation, she sprang into action. Her white robes billowed as she rushed toward the commotion, her veil fluttering behind her. The workers followed her lead, driven by a mixture of curiosity and a sense of duty to protect their newfound sanctuary.

As they reached the scene, they were met with a chaotic sight. Two groups of laborers were locked in a fierce altercation, their faces contorted with anger and frustration. The dispute appeared to have escalated quickly, and the violence was spiraling out of control.

The saintess raised her voice above the clamor, her words carrying an air of authority.

"Stop this at once! We are here to help and support one another, not to harm our brothers and sisters."

Her plea momentarily pierced through the anger, causing some of the combatants to hesitate. But others remained steadfast in their rage, paying no heed to her words.

Seeing that her words alone would not quell the fight, the saintess extended her hands, her divine energy radiating around her. A soft, warm light enveloped the area, washing over the quarreling laborers. The light seemed to have a calming effect, soothing their heightened emotions and diffusing their anger.

Slowly but surely, the workers began to release their clenched fists, and the tension in the air started to dissipate.

The saintess couldn't help but wonder what had caused such a sudden and intense dispute among the workers. She had watched over them closely, knowing full well the harsh working conditions under the scorching sun. However, she had secretly cast spells on them to enhance their stamina and strength, ensuring that they wouldn't tire easily.

As she approached the bickering groups, she observed their flushed faces and sweaty brows. Physically, they should have been able to endure much longer without succumbing to exhaustion or frustration. Her protective enchantments had been carefully woven to ensure their comfort and well-being during this laborious task.

Puzzled by their behavior, the saintess tried to discern the root of the conflict. She listened carefully as the workers traded accusations and insults. It became apparent that the argument had little to do with physical fatigue or the challenging work itself.

The worker's voice rang out above the clamor of the construction site, drawing the attention of his fellow laborers. His face was flushed with a combination of exhaustion, frustration, and thirst. Sweat dripped from his brow as he spoke, his words filled with a mix of desperation and anger.

"We've run out of water, sister!" he declared, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's sweltering out here, and they're pushing us to our limits. We can't take it anymore!"

His impassioned plea resonated with many of the workers, who had been silently enduring the scorching heat and demanding physical labor. As the realization that there was no water available washed over them, some laborers began to drop their tools and move toward the nearest patches of shade, seeking relief from the oppressive sun.

The saintess, standing amidst the growing unrest, felt a pang of guilt for not having anticipated this critical need. She had focused on enhancing their physical capabilities but had overlooked the most fundamental requirement—water. It was a mistake she couldn't ignore.

In response to the worker's outcry, she took a deep breath and stepped forward. Her voice carried a soothing and compassionate tone as she addressed the gathered laborers. "I apologize for this oversight," she said, her words laced with genuine concern.

Despite the arrival of water and the saintess's efforts to ensure the workers' hydration, a lingering sense of apathy and weariness permeated the laborers. The shade, once a respite from the unrelenting sun, had become a sanctuary where they sought refuge from both the heat and the demanding work ahead.

The saintess observed their behavior with growing concern. It was clear that her previous approach, while well-intentioned, had unintentionally fostered dependency rather than empowerment. She knew she needed to address this issue promptly and encourage a sense of self-reliance among the laborers.

Taking a deep breath, the saintess stepped forward once more, her voice carrying a blend of empathy and resolve. "I understand that the sun is unforgiving, and the work is challenging," she began. "But we cannot let exhaustion and discomfort deter us from our goals. We are here to help one another, to build a better future together."

Her words were met with skepticism and murmurs of discontent. Some workers shook their heads in disagreement, and others openly voiced their frustration. "We've heard promises before," one laborer shouted. "What good is a better future if we can't even survive today?"

The saintess's heart sank as she witnessed the negative reaction from the laborers. It was evident that her previous actions had created a cycle of dependency that would not be easily broken. She knew that merely providing food, water, and shelter had not addressed the root causes of their struggles.

Undeterred, she continued, "I understand your doubts, and I acknowledge that we have more work to do. But giving up and retreating to the shade will not solve our problems. It's crucial that we work together, as a community, with determination and perseverance."

However, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as more laborers retreated to the shelter of the shade. They were disillusioned, feeling that their efforts had gone unnoticed and unappreciated. The sense of unity and shared purpose that once existed had eroded, replaced by a growing sense of resentment.

As the saintess watched with a heavy heart, she realized the enormity of the challenge ahead. Breaking the cycle of dependency and fostering self-sufficiency would require more than just words; it would demand a fundamental shift in mindset and a renewed commitment to the idea that they could shape their own destiny.

She knew that rebuilding trust and hope among the laborers would be a daunting task, but she remained steadfast in her determination to guide them towards a better future—one where they could regain their sense of agency and work collectively to overcome the obstacles that had held them back for so long.

The workers mind was already filled and their bodies had enough they realized that even if they did nothing the saintess was their to provide and care for them

The laborers' initial enthusiasm had waned as they began to realize that the saintess was indeed providing for their immediate needs. The promise of food, water, and shelter, which had initially spurred them into action, had unintentionally led to complacency. Their minds were now filled with the assurance that the saintess would always be there to care for them.

As they retreated to the shade and rested their weary bodies, a sense of resignation settled in. They had become accustomed to relying on external assistance, and the prospect of enduring the hardships of labor in the scorching sun lost its appeal. Their trust in the saintess's benevolence had morphed into an expectation that bordered on entitlement.