-Giggle, giggle.
The chapel was already filled with a thick flower scent.
By that point, there was no denying who came to mind.
“Goddess of Flowers…”
-Correct!
“…or something impersonating her.”
-Huh?
Common sense said the Goddess wouldn’t actually appear.
It was far more believable that something was impersonating the Goddess of Flowers, or that he was hearing things.
‘I can’t sense it, and I can’t feel any divine power either. At least A-rank.’
Besides, his rank had dropped to around B-rank from maintaining the gallery.
Given that it evaded his senses entirely, it was reasonable to assume A-rank or higher.
-I’m for real though?
When he reached his skeptical conclusion, the voice replied in disbelief.
“Then do you have any proof you’re the real deal?”
-Uh, the flower scent..?
The chapel did indeed reek of flowers.
But a scent couldn’t serve as proof.
“With one bottle of perfume, I could conjure up plenty of evidence.”
-It’s not like it’s a completely unreliable clue, is it?
“Nor is it a reliable one.”
-…
His firm answer left the voice silent for a moment, as if at a loss for words.
-Then how about this?
At that moment, the voice spoke as if a brilliant idea had struck.
-My statue’s broken into pieces, which is pretty unsightly, so..
With that, something sprouted from the rubble of the Goddess statue scattered across the floor.
‘A sprout?’
What he thought was a sprout grew in an instant, transforming into vines that bloomed yellow and white flowers along their length.
The flower vines wrapped around the shattered statue in the blink of an eye.
The vines dug into the cracks, intertwining tightly, and bound the broken pieces back into one.
-Ta-da!
“…”
Unlike the playful voice, he couldn’t bring himself to laugh.
‘The density and texture are different, but it’s similar to Priest Margaret’s energy.’
But if Priest Margaret’s was a small spark, what he felt from the flowers was something far deeper and richer.
He stared at the Goddess statue in silence for a moment, then leaned back against the pew.
He craved the cigarette he’d given up.
“I had a feeling.”
-Huh?
“The day I actually receive divine punishment has come.”
-Huh?
He closed his eyes and confessed his true feelings.
“If it’s happening anyway, I’d appreciate a quick, painless death.”
But no matter how long he waited, no lightning bolt fell.
-Puhahaha!
Instead, only a laughter as clear as a child’s rang through the chapel.
-That’s hilarious, really!
With those words, the voice fell silent.
‘So she’s leaving me alone.’
If so, that was a relief.
He opened his eyes, relief washing over him, and saw the statue wrapped in vines.
It was still lying down, but at least the separated halves were now joined.
“..If she was going to go that far, she could have stood it up for me.”
In the end, he had to cast a buff again and right the statue himself.
Unlike before, the weight had nearly doubled since the two halves were joined, but since he didn’t have to worry about anyone being pinned underneath, the effort wasn’t all that different.
“The workers might pass out when they see this.”
He muttered, looking at the restored statue.
These were people who had struggled just to touch a broken statue.
Seeing it restored overnight, wrapped in flower vines, their reaction was as predictable as fire burning.
“Whoa.”
Right on cue, an exclamation came from behind.
“Such a beautiful statue of Lady Iris.”
It was Priest Malza.
She must have come looking for him since he hadn’t returned.
Priest Malza stood inside the chapel, gazing up at the restored statue.
Her eyes were sparkling, clearly pleased with it.
“But when we were handing out stew earlier, it didn’t have a dress like this. It’s amazing. It looks like real flowers…”
Well, that was because they were real flowers.
But he didn’t bother saying so.
Trying to explain would only make things more complicated.
‘Come to think of it, she can’t sense the divine power on the statue, can she.’
He found Priest Malza’s utterly ordinary reaction odd, but then he understood.
Then again, in this entire sprawling city, Priest Margaret was the only one who could actually use miracles.
It wasn’t strange that she couldn’t sense the energy.
“But where did the workers go?”
“..They seemed tired, so I sent them home early.”
He had no reason to tell Priest Malza that the statue had been shattered to pieces, so he gave a vague excuse.
She didn’t seem to suspect he was lying and simply accepted it with a nod.
“It looks like all the work will be done by tomorrow.”
He looked around the chapel.
There were still a few things left to tidy up, but the major construction was mostly finished.
Once the workers came tomorrow to finish up, the church would essentially be complete.
“Then we’ll be able to hold services with the believers soon!”
At Priest Malza’s excited words, he nodded reluctantly.
‘It’s hard to imagine anyone leaving the familiar Church of the Earth to come here, but I should still be prepared.’
He briefly ran through possible times.
‘With my hours at the healing center, it’d have to be dawn or evening.’
Neither was ideal, but if he had to choose, early dawn seemed better.
It was then that the voice returned.
-If possible, I’d prefer early evening over dawn or morning.
“…”
The voice, silent for a while, chimed in as if it were the most natural thing.
-I get sleepy at dawn.
He glanced at Priest Malza.
She hadn’t heard a thing, still beaming at the statue.
It seemed only he could hear the voice.
“..On second thought, evening would be better for services. I have my duties at the healing center after all.”
-Heehee.
It definitely wasn’t because he was catering to someone else’s preference.
…
He had been so busy that evening had arrived before he knew it.
‘I said I’d cook, but…’
Yet now that he was actually about to start, he couldn’t think of what to make.
‘The ingredients are plentiful, but I don’t know what to do with them.’
He stared at the ingredients laid out on the table.
Thanks to the merchants’ generosity at the market, he had more than enough.
But with so many options, he couldn’t decide what to make.
However, once he sorted out what he had and what he didn’t, possible dishes came to mind, and he finally settled on a menu.
‘I’ve got butter. I can mince the meat and make something like tteokgalbi, then use the leftover oil to fry a few eggs.’
Of course, the tteokgalbi was for Priest Malza.
He’d be satisfied with a couple of fried eggs and some bread.
Once the menu was decided, his hands moved on their own.
-You seem pretty used to that.
The voice spoke up, as if it had been watching.
“I’ve seen a lot of people cook.”
-Huh.
-But why is there so little meat? Only enough for one person.
“That’s because I don’t eat meat.”
-Why?
The question came right back.
“I just stopped eating it.”
-Why did you stop?
“It’s a matter of taste. Not everyone likes meat.”
-Did you dislike it from the start?
“It’s similar.”
-Really?
It clung to his words like a persistent child.
-Is that really the reason?
His hands paused mid-cook.
“If you keep pestering me, I’ll run off and convert to another faith.”
There didn’t seem to be any sign of divine punishment coming anyway.
So he went bold.
-Oh, no! You can’t do that!
The effect was immediate.
The voice backed off right away.
“Then stop asking. It’s annoying.”
-Fine..
-But for the record, I am the Goddess of Flowers you believe in…
Ignoring the deflated voice, he placed the finished tteokgalbi patties onto the frying pan.
Sizzle-
A mouthwatering sound spread from the buttered pan.
He covered it with a lid to keep the oil from splattering and turned down the heat.
-That looks delicious..
The voice that had been so deflated moments ago perked right back up.
“..Don’t you eat food where you are?”
-I do eat.
“Then why react like that?”
-Around here, it’s nothing but nectar and ambrosia. Same thing every day..
‘So even up there, it’s not easy.’
No matter how delicious the food, eating the same thing every day would get old.
Whether it was right to dismiss divine food as ordinary was a separate question.
-At least when I lived with my mom, there were all sorts of delicious offerings. Those were the days.
“So even gods leave the nest eventually.”
-Yeah, though it’s only been about a thousand years.
He clicked his tongue at the staggering number.
-But flowers? I can’t eat offerings of flowers, so they’re completely useless.
The Goddess kept complaining about offerings, but he was getting used to it, letting it go in one ear and out the other.
Just as one side of the tteokgalbi was browning nicely and he was about to flip it, there was a gulp.
Then the Goddess’s voice suddenly made a proposal.
-So how about you give me food as an offering?
-Do that, and I’ll make you my true priest.