On the periphery of the Kingdom of Cuzella, the wounded from the conflicts that took place in several areas were gathered at a rear point.
Naturally, the number of injured is increasing every second without ever being treated in time.
But organizations and individuals with the religions and philosophies that I listened to were beginning to come together.
"The wounded of the Fourth District are being sent! Open up!
Such a hanging voice echoes day and night.
Those with healing magic exercised until their magic ran out of the bottom, and those that did not carry places, water hauling and the wounded/dead.
It's an environment that conflicts with elegance.
Still no one is moving their hands without complaining.
It's just for the environment.
"Oh, my God, you wicked bastard! It's our division from here on out!
"I don't care!
"I don't care! I'm not interrupting, this is why the faithful like shit..."
"Ahhh!? I thought you were praying to a god made of pussy! Give me that. Give me that!
"What the hell!
Humans of various religions are also gathered.
Even these arguments are born.
It becomes something that involves all believers.
I'm not leaving the wounded. Not very high quality. But because of the high number of injuries, we have to call people even if this happens.
In that,
"Please stop fighting. Would you move your hands more than your mouth?"
It's Sufi.
It's an emerging religion, smoked only by the head-on conflict with the biggest Astianism.
After all, the two contenders also looked at Sufi and turned their eyes to scorn.
"Ha, that doesn't make sense what I'm about to say about keeping it in an Astaire spill!
"Not if you're saying that now. The wounded will be taken care of first."
Sufi was exercising the best healing magic she could use herself while returning words.
A man punches his tongue and stares at his attitude without even putting it on his teeth.
"Ha, I don't know if I care if I and this religion are fooled! That's what you only see when you get gold!?
"Be that as it may. It's lame."
One of the organizations that went through speaks up.
The man looked back to yell at the Lord of his voice and opened his eyes and breathed.
It was Solia Aiden who was there.
He was healing the wounded on the front line and going back. Behind her are several knights on the escort.
"Dear Soria...!
The gaze of a section of people nailed it.
Even the groans of the wounded disappear.
"Wide Area Recovery (Xheel)"
Magic creates waves in Soria's such whining.
The wounds of the people affected by the waves heal. Even minor scratches.
"You didn't come here to fight. Move your hands more than your mouth."
"" Yes, yes!
To Soria's words, the men nod as shivers like scolded children.
"Excuse me, thank you"
Sufi thanked Soria and bowed her head.
It is no exaggeration to say that the two are hostile organizations, so to speak.
This is the first time in its own right.
"Mr. Sufi...... right? of true asterism. I missed you. Always wrong in volunteering on the battlefield. I thought I'd see you at the next Grand Sacred Prayer Place. That's a coincidence. I say Soria."
Soria.
It's not a rare name. It's not strange to have about one person in one village if you look.
But there is only one epitome of the name Soria on this continent.
Astian lead priest, s rank adventurer of guild, saint of light star -.
A girl promised to make a name for herself in history with many aliases and legends.
Few worship Soria Aiden, not Astaire, the goddess.
It stands alongside the brave men of history and is considered 'hope'.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Sufi. I am a high priest in true asterism. Actually, I wanted to talk to Master Soria, too."
There was just a paragraph of healing in this area.
There was room for both of us.
"Is that a story?
So Soria asks Sufi back, too.
No hostility. Rather, it was favored by Soria.
Soria had heard it many times. True Astian activity.
Rather, it was Soria, who often went to the front line, who had gained insight into the serious activities of Sufi and the others.
"Yes. Lady Soria is... faithful to the goddess Astaire, isn't she?
"Right. Because I'm an Astaire believer."
"I ask you to be rude...... What is it that makes you believe?
"What do you think, sir?
I tilt my neck without measuring the sincerity of the question.
I heard Sufi crushing the words again.
"For example, did you have anything to do with Master Astaire, something to convince you of your lesson, a favorite passage in the Bible... etc? I wanted to ask you something like a reason to believe."
Of course, I know that there are people who believe in Sufi for no deep reason either.
But Soria's activities are so light that she can jump over that range.
I wanted to know why I could work that far.
"Oh, is that what happened? Uh, yeah, I see... duh."
Soria nods over and over when she looks obviously upset.
Dye your face to a pearl - it's like a maiden in love.
Soria coughs up only one and gets her mind back when Sufi waits having trouble reacting.
"Wow, I believe, more in 'hope' than in 'faith'"
"Hope...?
Sufi leans her neck this time for a sudden return.
"Does that mean a miracle that Master Astaire does?
"Probably?"
……
Sufi could not understand the intent of the words she could not even grasp Soria.
Soria smiles bitterly as she sees it and apologizes.
"Excuse me. There was a 'miracle' when I was still running out. That's when I started believing in Astaire at random."
"Is that what happened?"
Sufi thinks.
I guess you're right about the perception that you linked religion to coincidence.
But it doesn't seem like there's a pattern of intense paranoia around saying 'hope' without naming Astaire there.
I believe after firmly identifying reality.
"I ask you, what is the miracle...? And hope..."
"Oh, well, that's...!
Soria's face is dyed red again.
Just embarrassed.
But the lay went in before Soria answered.
"Ha ha, what is this? Isn't that the face of true asterism? Are you at least on the battlefield again and brainwashing? I won't punish you much."
A man dressed in a blue-haired, lofty priest outfit approached me.