Chapter 4
“No, it can’t be…”
Unlike Idette, who was calm, her parents were devastated. The priests bowed their heads deeply, offering their form of condolences.
Idette watched quietly, then comforted her parents.
“Mother, Father, please don’t cry. I won’t die.”
She really had no intention of dying.
With the knowledge from her past life, she was determined to survive somehow.
But to everyone else, her calm words looked like she was bravely accepting her own death.
Since she comforted her parents so calmly, the Count and Countess Lushe seemed to think the same.
Idette had been frail for so long, often collapsing, always smiling as if she might break at any moment. Perhaps they had already expected this day would come.
“…We have watched the young lady since she was a child. It pains us deeply.”
One priest, wearing a bitter smile, gave Idette a blessing.
“I have a question.”
“I will answer sincerely.”
“…Exactly how long do I have left to live?”
Hearing their daughter ask about her own death made her parents sob even louder.
“Well…”
But Idette, who had regained her past-life memories, already knew holy power wasn’t almighty.
If you could only receive it a set number of times, then clearly it had limits.
The nobles believed that only the chosen ones could receive holy power endlessly.
The temple also promoted that idea.
“I’ve only ever seen one case where someone survived without holy power. I’m sure the young lady knows of her.”
The Duchess of Sheyard.
She was probably still alive. That was why the temple hated the Sheyard family so much.
“She was the only exception. But no one knows how long she will last. Living without holy power isn’t really possible. A rotten tree won’t come back to life just because you pour water on it. And more than that, Lady Idette, you are weaker than others. Life and death—everything is God’s will. May a miracle be granted to you as well.”
Maybe it was just her twisted thinking, but to Idette, this sounded like he was predicting her death while pretending to pray for her miracle.
Didn’t he just compare the Duchess to a rotten tree?
Looking back, Idette really had been a submissive daughter.
She lived exactly as everyone said—she was sick, everyone coddled her, and she accepted it without even knowing why.
But now, with her past-life memories, she started questioning it.
If you’re sick, shouldn’t you take medicine to get better? Why cling to holy power? And if you want medicine, you need to diagnose the illness first.
Could someone really die just from being “weak”?
“What illness do I actually have?”
“Well… holy power only heals pain. It’s not a place that diagnoses illnesses.”
…What?
“Only heretics claim such things.”
Huh?
“Someone must have filled your head with nonsense. Who was it?”
The priest’s eyes turned sharp and dangerous.
Until now, Idette had never thought much about how the temple actually worked. She had just quietly received holy power.
“There’s no one who could tell me that. I stay at home all the time. It was just a simple question.”
But under his cold glare, she remembered something she had almost forgotten.
The temple wasn’t all that holy. They had always tried to get rid of Hanes, who had no prejudice against potion makers. They failed every time.
The only reason was Brinnen, who had protected Hanes with everything he had.
“I see. By the way, young lady, do you have any intention of becoming a priestess?”
The priest asked carefully, as if he wasn’t eager to make enemies of the Lushe family.
He suggested priesthood as a noble end for someone already judged to be terminally ill.
“Hhh…”
The Count and Countess wept even harder.
This was a poisoned chalice, at least for Idette. Her parents would never accept it.
“Thank you for the suggestion, but…”
“Please don’t refuse right away. Think of it more comfortably.”
The priest smiled kindly, and the Count and Countess nodded reluctantly.
***
“Becoming a priestess is out of the question. Don’t even think about the High Priest’s words.”
Her parents had no intention of letting Idette join the temple. When the priest had suggested it earlier, they hadn’t looked pleased either.
Idette hadn’t even said she would do it—she had only gone quiet in thought. But even that made them uneasy enough to firmly forbid it.
“If you become a priestess, you’ll be trapped in the monastery until you finish your training.”
“There’s such a rule?”
“Yes. And the length of training varies. If you die inside before finishing, your family isn’t even allowed to see your body. That’s the rule.”
What? Not even the family can see the body? No wonder her father was pale with fear.
The temple was getting more suspicious by the minute.
But in the novel, the temple had only been the ones trying to kill Hanes.
They always failed, and eventually, they gave up. Not only that, but they even made a contract with Hanes, agreeing to respect potion makers.
Brinnen, suspicious of their sudden change, had opposed it, but Hanes accepted.
The novel ended in peace, though the readers had found it anticlimactic.
“We don’t want to lose you like that.”
“…”
“So don’t even dream of becoming a priestess.”
“…Alright.”
But the real problem was that now, since Idette’s quota of holy power was used up, the temple wouldn’t come again.
“By the way, Idette.”
“Yes?”
“What the priest said earlier bothers me.”
“What part?”
“Why did you ask about your illness? Did someone put such thoughts in your head?”
Huh? She had just asked what her illness was, but now it was being treated like dangerous ideology?
Idette quickly denied it. Of course no one had told her such things.
It was just natural to her—because in her past life, if you were sick, you went to the hospital and got diagnosed. She had asked without thinking.
Come to think of it, before regaining her memories, she had never wondered what her illness was.
Hanes must have felt incredibly suffocated in a world like this. Even she felt stifled now.
“Are you sure?”
Her father looked at her firmly.
“Well, actually…”
“Yes?”
Her father’s eyes lit up, convinced there was someone behind it. His expression clearly said: whoever dared fill my daughter’s head with nonsense, I’ll crush them.
“I saw it in a dream.”
“…What?”
Her father froze, stunned by the unexpected answer. But Idette was being honest. After all, she really had seen her past life like a dream.
“It was when I had the fever last time…”
“…”
“In the dream, I saw another world. People there didn’t go to the temple when they were sick. They went to hospitals and took medicine…”
“A world like that… it really was just a dream.”
What a ridiculous dream. Her father clicked his tongue, coldly warning her never to speak of such nonsense again.
“Doesn’t that exist here?”
“What?”
“I heard… there are potion makers. If you take their medicine, you can be healed.”
“Nonsense. As the priest said, they’re heretics.”
Her father dismissed it instantly.
“Our Idette doesn’t need to care about such lowly scum.”
Clearly, prejudice ran deep here.
When Hanes had taken in a potion maker, her reputation had plummeted.
Even after peace, it hadn’t fully recovered.
“…Even if they could heal me?”
“Ha! If the priests can’t heal you, how could some back-alley potion maker do it? Idette, that’s a foolish dream.”
“…But still…”
“I won’t allow you to be seen by such filth.”
His voice was harsh, his brow furrowed in anger. Idette had no choice but to back down for now.
She decided she would wait until Bibi was cured—then she could prove it with results.
“…Alright.”
For now, she needed progress. Only then would her father accept it.
they are crazy. what prejudice when we faced a death