I Became the Childhood Friend Who Commits Sui**de

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“Divine Water…?”

As she understood the meaning of the words, White Lamb looked at the owner of the voice.

It was a girl with a small, delicate frame, and her lavender hair emitted a mystical aura.

Since it was a face she had never seen before, she couldn’t shake off her wariness and asked,

“Who are you?”

“The spear that ends everything.”

“…Huh?”

Confounded by the bizarre response, White Lamb tilted her head unconsciously.

Had she hurt her head in the chaos of war?

But that didn’t seem likely, considering the unusual energy wafting around the girl.

“By the way, what is Divine Water?”

The real issue at hand was why Valentina had ended up like this.

If Divine Water could grant power strong enough to topple a saint, then it was essential to know what it was.

“It’s a medium that raises human power to its limits. But it’s imperfect. It was made by humans, not gods.”

“Does that mean there are side effects?”

White Lamb glanced back at where Valentina had been sitting.

She had already lost her human form completely. While on the floor, a glimmering puddle was gradually becoming clearer.

If that’s what side effects looked like, then it was quite horrifying.

There was no way one could be alive in such a liquid state.

Was the price of strength one’s very life?

“She has become Divine Water. Lured by its power, her blood, bones, and flesh have all turned into Divine Water.”

“…That’s foolish.”

“No. They were aiming exactly for this. They can stop the saints while gaining vast amounts of Divine Water.”

At the girl’s words, White Lamb frowned.

Was it all part of their plan, even this situation?

She clearly realized, just from a brief explanation, that this was quite dangerous.

Consuming Divine Water could rapidly enhance strength.

A human who drank Divine Water would eventually become Divine Water itself.

By utilizing that Divine Water, many more humans could be made powerful.

If this process were to be repeated just a few times, the war would swing overwhelmingly in favor of humans.

But this entire assumption omits the keyword ‘sacrifice.’

No one wishes to lose their life.

Viewed purely from the perspective of efficiency, it could indeed be astonishing, but it absolutely should be dismissed at the most fundamental moral level.

If they ignore that, they might win in war.

But from that moment on, could they truly still be called humans?

“…I must tell the teacher.”

If things continued like this, they would be the ones losing the war.

White Lamb hurriedly tried to exit the auditorium to find her teacher.

However, the lavender-haired girl blocked the door, preventing her from leaving.

“Step aside.”

“Christ. You must choose.”

“My name is White Lamb.”

“In the end, this war is just a fleeting process, not the end. The time will soon come when you must make a choice.”

As the conversation became increasingly cryptic, White Lamb declared without hesitation in a cold tone.

“I will stand by my teacher, no matter what happens.”

“Even if that choice costs you everything?”

“Right now, my teacher and the saints are all I have.”

For a moment, their gazes hovered in the air.

In the expressionless silence, the girl spoke.

“You will find her if you go to the cathedral.”

Just as White Lamb was about to respond, the ground suddenly shook, and a loud bang echoed.

Boom!!

In an instant, she lost her balance and stumbled.

Regaining her composure quickly, she looked ahead, but the girl had already vanished like smoke.

“What the…?”

It felt as though she had just awakened from a jumbled, chaotic dream.

She thought she had experienced a lot in a dizzying haze, but as she tried to recall it, everything seemed incoherent and nonsensical.

Such a fleeting dream.

Standing there alone, White Lamb decided to move again.

She had mentioned a cathedral, right?

Perhaps the teacher she had been searching for was there, as the girl had said.

It was worth a shot, so she resolved to check it out.

As she concluded this and turned to leave the auditorium, she paused momentarily.

When she looked back, the auditorium was empty, with just her alone.

Except for the uncomfortably gleaming puddle.

*

The cathedral was not hard to find.

In a street of the academy that was almost in ruins, it stood remarkably intact, suffering little damage.

Just before entering, the girl raised her head.

She gazed for a moment at the cross towering at the very top of the building.

She didn’t have any particular feelings about it.

After all, it was a space that had nothing to do with her.

Pulling the door, the creaking sound from the old hinges shattered the silence.

The interior could be described, at best, as tranquil. It certainly didn’t seem like there were any people inside.

Once she confirmed this, she should’ve turned right around without hesitation.

That was what she intended to do.

But her footsteps didn’t stop; they were drawn inside as if being sucked in.

The windows on either side of the cathedral were filled with stained glass depicting holy images.

Knowing she had no time to waste, she was instead busy admiring the paintings as if she were in an art gallery.

The Temptation in the Wilderness.

The Sermon on the Mount.

The Last Supper.

The Death on the Cross.

And Resurrection.

Diverse scenes from Jesus’s life.

After taking them all in, what stood before her was his statue nailed to the cross.

Gazing at the statue, the girl felt a question arise within her.

His depiction was undeniably agonizing.

He was nailed to the cross, wearing a humiliating crown of thorns.

His body was drenched in blood and wounds, particularly a grievous wound on his side.

Yet, his expression remained calm.

In the face of such suffering, there was no hint of pain visible on his face.

Did the Bible describe the moment of death like this?

Or was Jesus’s death merely something the sculptor whimsically created to signify holiness?

What kind of thoughts would this man have been having while hanging here?

Beside the statue, there was a small painting that she hadn’t seen before.

It depicted Jesus himself carrying his cross, climbing a hill.

In that moment, a fleeting scene rushed through her mind.

Standing before the image of Jesus carrying the cross, a girl prayed.

That girl was none other than White Lamb herself.

“……”

Was it a hallucination? Or a memory from the past?

Suddenly overwhelmed with dizziness, the girl clutched her head.

Fear assailed her.

She had longed so desperately to reclaim her past memories.

But when confronted with that possibility, she was too terrified to endure it.

Afraid she might completely transform.

The thought that all her values, will, and thoughts could be overturned by something foreign frightened her above all else.

“I am content with who I am now.”

As if in confession, the girl spoke.

But it was close to a heartfelt plea.

“So please, do not take anything from me. I don’t want to lose anything more…”

No more.

Had I already lost something?

With her strength fading, the girl simply collapsed onto a chair.

At that moment, as if to respond to her prayer,

She felt a familiar sensation around her neck, and the pendant she always wore came loose.

The pendant fell down.

Staring blankly at the white traditional cross perched on the chair, the girl was filled with an inexplicable déjà vu.

She stood still for a long moment, not moving.

Surely, there was a line of text here…

[But those who endure to the end will be saved.]

“……”

The instant she read that, countless memories swirled in her mind like shards scattering in a whirlwind.

Feelings she had never experienced before washed over her, and for the first time, she clutched her head in pain, enduring it.

No.

This is not me.

I don’t want it.

I am not Yu Hana.

I am White Lamb, a member of the saints and a disciple of my teacher.

The girl rejected the invasion of memories.

The price of pushing away the flow came at a significant cost.

Now all she could do was groan softly, barely holding back screams.

Her rationality had been relentlessly battered and was on the verge of breaking.

In the end, unable to shoulder it alone, the girl had no choice but to seek out someone to save her like a young lamb.

Someone, please help me.

Please, from this dreadful pain.

Teacher.

Help me. Please.

At that moment.

Bang!

The closed door was flung open violently.

The girl was momentarily dazed, forgetting the pain as she stared blankly at the opened doorway.

A face half-covered in shadows, obscured by bright sunlight.

An unknown figure slowly walked toward her.

What emotions was the girl feeling at this moment?

She didn’t even know herself.

Right now, all she could do was wait for him to approach and call her name.

“Yu Hana.”

“Ah…”

A familiar voice.

Upon seeing his revealed face, the girl opened her mouth in shock.

In the boy’s gaze, a fierce and burning will glimmered.

After hesitating for a while, Hana finally called out his name.

“Kim Shinwoo…”