Trampled and Broken (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3
Then, as if he had read her very thoughts, Aslan spoke the next words.
“No. I… I didn’t wish for this. So please, open your eyes.”
But after that, his words no longer reached her clearly.
She could only vaguely guess that he kept repeating the plea for her to open her eyes.
Exhausted beyond measure, Hestia no longer wanted to comply.
When she weakly shook her head, Aslan, holding her tightly, spoke in an even more desperate voice.
“…Do it. Because I… will…”
His voice kept breaking off.
Hestia realized that the Grim Reaper stood right before her, scythe of death in hand.
Strangely, she felt neither fear nor dread.
‘At last, I can rest.’
Instead, she felt anticipation.
A gentle smile lifted Hestia’s lips.
‘Now, it’s alright to cry.’
Hestia’s eyes slowly closed.
Only after the faint, slender thread of light connecting her to the world was swallowed by darkness did a single tear—long held back—finally roll down her cheek.
“Princess! Open your eyes…!”
She felt a rough hand wipe away her hot tears, but that was all.
Thud. Her hand fell limply.
And… Hestia’s violet eyes sank into eternity.
[This is the timeline separator]Birdsong filled the air.
With her eyes still closed, Hestia thought,
‘You said I wasn’t your child, yet you must have pitied me after all—granting me mercy to rest in the eternal land.’
Perhaps that was something she ought to properly thank for.
Taking a light breath, she slowly lifted her eyelids.
“…Huh?”
The moment she recognized what first met her eyes, Hestia’s brow furrowed sharply like thin paper crumpling.
The ceiling painted with cherubs blowing trumpets.
Layered white curtains hanging from the bedposts, swaying in soft, wave-like curves.
These were all familiar sights—what she saw every morning upon waking.
“What on earth is going on?”
Still unable to even consider rising from bed, she simply stared blankly at the ceiling.
She opened and closed her eyes several times, yet nothing changed.
“They said the eternal land was endless blue meadows… Could this possibly be a recreation of the mortal realm?”
She already knew it made no sense, but she voiced it anyway, hoping this explanation might feel slightly less absurd.
Just then, as if to prove her guess mere delusion, two knocks sounded from outside the room.
Even that was deeply familiar to Hestia.
Too stunned to respond immediately, she remained silent—until, after a brief pause, two more knocks followed.
“…Come in.”
Only then did she give a faint, hoarse permission, and the door quietly opened.
“Saintess, are you awake?”
If the royal palace had the maid Angela, the temple had this novice priestess Nasia, who attended to Hestia’s daily needs.
Only after confirming Nasia’s face did Hestia finally push herself up on her elbows.
She still felt as if wandering through a dream, gazing at Nasia with hazy eyes.
“Nasia?”
“Yes, Saintess? Is there something you need?”
A reply came.
Again, Hestia couldn’t utter a word.
So shocked she froze completely, showing no reaction, Nasia approached her with a worried expression.
“Saintess, are you alright? Are you feeling unwell?”
Nasia even seemed about to check her temperature—Hestia could see her hand reaching toward her.
The instant the novice priestess’s small hand touched her forehead, Hestia broke out in goosebumps.
The sensation of skin against skin felt overwhelmingly real.
Only then did she realize this was no illusion or fantasy—but reality.
Nasia’s gaze, now clearly puzzled by her odd behavior, lingered.
Wanting first to escape the situation, Hestia forced a smile and shook her head.
“Oh, no. I’m fine. It’s just… I’m having trouble waking up today.”
Nasia beamed and nodded vigorously.
“There are days like that! For me, almost every day is like that—it’s a real problem!”
Nasia quickly turned around and headed toward the window to air the room. Watching her, Hestia took a sharp breath.
‘How can this be happening?’
Outwardly calm, inwardly she was utterly shaken.
‘I clearly coughed up so much blood… I distinctly felt myself reaching death.’
The pain that had coiled around her body like a thorn-made noose until her very last moment still felt vivid.
Yet all those sensations had vanished as if they’d never existed.
‘It’s as if time itself has been rewound…’
Suddenly, Hestia froze mid-thought.
Wait.
‘…Rewound time?’
Merely repeating those words silently made her breath catch.
First, she needed confirmation.
Quickly steadying herself so Nasia wouldn’t notice her turmoil, Hestia asked in the calmest voice she could manage,
“Nasia… what’s today’s date?”
“Today? It’s March 11th, 1099! Exactly one year since Saint Anetsa arrived at our temple.”
March 11th, 1099.
Hearing that answer from Nasia, Hestia felt as if icy water had poured over her from head to toe.
Unconsciously, she swallowed hard and held her breath.
‘Exactly one year since Anetsa came…’
Quietly inhaling, Hestia mulled over Nasia’s reply.
‘So it really is today.’
She closed her eyes tightly with a deep sigh.
She’d done it to hide her inner turmoil, but it was too late—she could feel her eyelashes trembling against her skin.
Unbidden, the memory of her first meeting with Anetsa surfaced.
[This is the timeline separator]Two years before the day of her death, in the Elsword calendar year 1098.
A woman appeared at Elsword’s Grand Temple.
Her name was Anetsa.
“I came by divine revelation.”
With unwavering confidence, she declared herself Elsword’s other saintess.
Both the archdeacon and priests, the citizens of Elsword, and even Hestia herself were utterly bewildered.
‘A new saintess…?’
It was unbelievable.
After all, Elsword’s saintess was none other than Hestia Elsword herself.
Ten years ago, when she turned twelve,
「You shall soon be My representative. Go forth to uphold My faith. That is your duty and your glory. Sow belief where it is lacking, and nurture it to grow. That, too, shall become your golden glory.」
She had received divine revelation directly, was proclaimed saintess, and had lived in the temple ever since.
For a full ten years.
Yet afterward, Hestia never heard the voice of the divine again.
No matter how fervently she prayed, not once did she receive an answer.
.
.
.
Two saintesses in one era—unprecedented in history.
In Elsword’s entire history, there had always been only one saintess per century—and even then, some centuries passed without any at all.
And now, suddenly, a new saintess?
Everyone found it hard to believe, yet no one could outright call Anetsa a liar.
Because she had shown them.
They had witnessed her enveloped in divine radiance, and seen lush green grass and tiny wildflowers bloom profusely along the path she walked.
“She truly is the Saintess!”
The archdeacons were the first to kneel at Anetsa’s feet.
Others soon followed, bowing their heads in reverence before her.
Only Hestia and Anetsa remained standing.
Hestia could only stare at her, dumbfounded, while Anetsa smiled calmly and confidently.
Thus, a room was prepared for Anetsa within the temple, and she immediately began her duties as saintess—moving with such natural ease it seemed she’d done this all her life.
At some point, people started prefixing Anetsa’s name with “the true,” leaving Hestia deeply unsettled.
If Anetsa was the true saintess, then what was she? She couldn’t shake that thought.
‘Could I really… be a fake?’
If so, then what of that voice she’d heard as a child—the faint but undeniable holy power still within her?
‘Is this, too, a trial sent by the divine?’
Hestia truly didn’t know.
Thus, she grew increasingly doubtful of her very existence.
Yet despite all her questions, the divine still refused to listen to Hestia’s voice, and so she never found an answer.
It tormented her—why her own power felt so lacking while Anetsa’s overflowed abundantly.
‘Is it because I failed to uphold the divine dignity? Because my abilities were too weak to fulfill the task entrusted to me? Is that why a new saintess was sent?’
A saintess in name only.
Until her dying breath, Hestia never found a description that fit her better.
Thus, her place in the world kept shrinking.
Elsword, now home to two saintesses.
Some saw it as divine blessing, but most viewed it as an omen of misfortune and calamity.
After all, the political climate surrounding Elsword was far from favorable.
“Perhaps one alone wasn’t enough—so the divine sent us another?”
Male lead says he’s pregnant — and it’s female lead’s child
Something seems a bit off about this world.
Wang Zhao thought as she watched a pregnant man walking towards her…
Intro
Female lead finds herself in a world where the men who possess the ability to bear children.
As she navigates this unfamiliar reality, she is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, who reveals that he is pregnant.
Is this truly her boyfriend?
Why can’t she recall any details about their time together?
She begins to doubt whether the child her boyfriend is carrying is even hers.
Is there a hidden reason behind her amnesia, or could it be a side effect of her sudden arrival in this strange new world?
Just when it seems the protagonist’s life couldn’t become any more entangled, her ex-boyfriend makes an unexpected appearance, raising questions about the protagonist’s past.
__________
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