novelraw Chapter 109 : Chapter 109
Chapter 109 : Chapter 109
Chapter 109: The Lost Library (5)
Laughter, laughter, laughter.
Laughter was etched across the wide plaza.
An old man laughed. a child laughed. a man laughed. a woman laughed. As if watching a clown's antics, they watched the saintess burn.
Abel did not laugh. With his eyes wide open, he stared at the center of the plaza. The saintess was smiling. Even though the flames were tearing through the saintess's skin, and even scorching her bones.
The cardinals gave a silent bow to the subjects.
The clerics bowed to the subjects.
The old man seemed satisfied. The child seemed amused. The man cheered, and the woman clapped. Abel stood in the midst of them all. Abel's dark blue eyes twitched slightly. Abel bit his lower lip. Just as he was about to swing his arm and cut down anything and everything,
“Waha!”
Laughter that pierced through Abel's mind.
Abel saw it again. A group of clerics arriving in the middle of the plaza.
“Look, Grandpa! The clerics are coming!”
“Yes, I see them. It seems it has begun.”
The story was repeating.
The book that had reached its final chapter was being recited again from the first.
Abel was in a history that had already been completed. He was, in a sense, watching a play that was repeated in perpetuity. The saintess being burned at the stake as a witch was the story's conclusion, and a fixed history. There was nothing Abel could change.
“Oh my, it looks like a purification is taking place.”
“Those wicked witches.”
“Shall we stop and watch for a bit?”
Abel buried his face in his hands.
He could guess his expression from his trembling knuckles. He forced his contorted mouth into stillness. Barely managing to look indifferent, he lifted his head. A wooden pillar was being erected in the middle of the plaza.
“Kill her.”
It was a story that even the guards had turned away from.
A fragment of history they had tried to block, hoping Abel would not reach it.
“Kill her, kill her, kill her.”
Abel stood helplessly.
He was used to it. To witnessing the sins of the world. To trembling at the deaths of the innocent. That was why he was a madman. If he wasn't mad, how could he stand so firm alone amongst them?
“──Kill her!”
He was not used to it. He wanted to swing his sword right now and cut down everything in sight. That was why he was a madman. He had lived for over a thousand years, yet beyond his barely hardened expression, there was an unresolved knot of emotion.
“You are kind.”
Again, the saintess passed by Abel's side.
“Do you want to save me? You know it's impossible.”
Abel stood still with his head bowed.
“My name is Lilith. Lilith Problem.”
The saintess of the distant past,
Lilith whispered, looking back at Abel.
“Your name is Abel Argento. Right?”
“……That is correct.”
It was merely a fleeting moment.
The time given to Lilith and Abel.
They conversed in that fleeting moment, and updated their conversation by repeating that moment. Lilith repeatedly died while remaining in the past, and Abel watched countless times while belonging to the future. Waiting for the moment that flashed by in an instant.
“The authority I possess as a saintess is foresight. I am the Saintess of Foresight.”
“Did you know that I would arrive.”
“Of course. I've been waiting my whole life.”
The type of authority each saintess possessed was different.
While they could simultaneously wield the powers bestowed by the five main gods, there was just one. The authority they were born with as a saintess.
Iris could engrave the wounds of others onto her own body. It was even possible for her to single-handedly bear the trauma of thousands. At the same time, there were also saintesses like Lilith who could foresee the distant future. Those like Iris were called Saintesses of the Stigmata, and those like Lilith were called Saintesses of Foresight.
“Even so, I can't change much. Talking with you like this is all I can do.”
“You could not avoid death?”
“Who knows?”
Lilith smiled, looking back at Abel,
And took a step to stand facing the wooden pillar.
And so she was burned.
“I don't know because I haven't tried.”
“……Why is that.”
“For the future. Look. I've met you like this. I'm so glad I'm dying today.”
Lilith smiled again, looking back at Abel,
And took a step to stand facing the wooden pillar.
And so she was burned.
“Remember, Abel. After the era of witch hunts ends, the five cardinals will head to the Vianchiel Kingdom.”
“I had surmised the connection between the Vianchiel Kingdom and the Parousia Denomination. Is the Parousia Denomination's base in the former territory of the Vianchiel Kingdom.”
“That's right. There are many reasons why the witch hunts happened, but one of them would be the fear of magic. Unlike the era you live in, magic was not common in the era I lived in.”
The cardinals were both terrified of and fascinated by magic.
Abel could easily deduce the context. In the era when witch hunts were rampant, magic must have been rare. It was an era when the scriptures that formed the basis of divine magic had not been disseminated, and when the magic wands needed to wield elemental magic were absent. Black magic was no different.
The reason the Vianchiel Kingdom was considered the birthplace of magic.
It was because it was the first to achieve popularization. It wasn't that only a small population practiced magic, but that magic was integrated into the daily lives of the masses.
“And one more thing.”
Lilith smiled, looking back at Abel.
How many smiles was that? Abel could no longer count.
While her snow-white hair fluttered, Lilith's expression was endlessly warm. Even though she was burned so many times, even while repeating the same history, even though she must have foreseen this fact long ago,
“Please. Save the young saintess.”
Lilith seemed to have no regrets.
“The Saintess of Recollection is trapped.”
By the Parousia Denomination, somewhere in the distant past.
Lilith whispered so.
“To be served as the flesh of a false god.”
***
Huu, it went.
Monika breathed out.
Her chest felt heavy. It was because her breathing had become difficult.
How much time had passed? She had no way to tell, which was frustrating. She took out her pocket watch and glanced at it, but the hour and minute hands were just spinning wildly. Since there was neither night nor day, it was impossible to even guess the time. She just leaned against the transparent wall, hugged her legs, sat down, and bowed her head. Monika's body was bruised all over.
“Are you afraid.”
Suddenly, Penelope asked.
Sitting beside Monika, with a smile.
“That your father will be late.”
“Abel-sensei is not my father.”
Monika said quietly.
“I have a father who is dead. I've never thought about wanting to be adopted. Because I must not forget my dead father.”
“That's strange.”
Penelope tilted her head.
Inwardly, she recalled what Abel had said. That he had someone he loved, and that although she had passed away, she would never be forgotten.
It was an impossible thing. As an evangelist of the God of Oblivion, Penelope knew the efficacy of the process of forgetting. Memories become useless. Goals become futile. But it wasn't all bad. Humans recover through the process of forgetting. It was a grace that even heavy sorrow could be forgotten.
“You and your father are alike. To a chilling degree.”
If they forgot, it wouldn't be painful,
so for what reason did they refuse to forget?
Penelope couldn't understand.
“Don't you think? Both you and he seem obsessed with mourning. You insist on not forgetting the dead.”
“……I don't really know.”
Monika pouted her lips.
He? It sounds like she's already married to Abel-sensei. How can she be so headstrong?
It was unexpected. That the empire's greatest songstress, Penelope Polastiras, would have such a personality. It seemed she had hidden it well within her elegant voice. An indescribable disposition.
“Lady Penelope……, what do you like about Abel-sensei?”
“Isn't he beautiful?”
“What part of him is beautiful?”
“All of him.”
I shouldn't have asked.
Monika shrugged her shoulders.
“Don't you see it? The beauty of your father.”
“He's not my father. Above all, I……”
I don't really know what's beautiful.
Monika muttered so.
“I know that Abel-sensei's appearance is handsome. But I've never thought of him as beautiful. He's completely crazy somewhere, and he always has the expression of a dead person.”
“Ah, that's right.”
Penelope clapped her hands.
“A daughter is different after all. He is somehow like a corpse. Just his expression. He looks like someone who has died at least a hundred times. He also doesn't seem to show his emotions well. Like someone who will die tomorrow.”
“But he probably won't die.”
That's why I'm relieved.
Because it seems like only Abel-sensei won't die.
Monika muttered so.
“Are you afraid of death?”
Penelope asked with narrowed eyes.
She rolled her pink eyes and peeked into Monika's shopping basket.
What on earth is all that? It was full of useless things. She could tell their purpose from the labels. They must be tools for survivalists. Poor child, what had she gone through to collect such things?
“I am death……”
So very afraid of it.
Monika answered so.
“Until recently, I was afraid that I would die.”
Monika's amber eyes tilted downwards.
Her body, which was starting to bruise. Before enrolling in CIAR, she wouldn't have been able to endure it. Because her only thought was to survive.
Now, she wasn't so sure. For some reason, it felt like she wouldn't die. Abel always planned training in a crazy way, but he guided her to reflect even if she was injured.
That's why she could now predict. He must want to get me used to the domains of the main gods. Monika pursed her lips and grasped Abel's intention.
“Now, I'm not afraid of my own death……”
I'm afraid of the deaths of others.
Monika confessed so.
“I don't want to see anyone die.”
“You're alike in that respect too. Your father, I mean.”
Penelope smiled, the corners of her mouth turning up.
She reached out and caressed Monika's prosthetic arm.
“My child, you are very beautiful.”
Both your father and you,
you must learn to insist on your own beauty.
Because beauty is perfected through persistence. What makes up a heavy dress, what makes up thick makeup, is ultimately persistence. A most lovely persistence.
“Mourning is a form of love, and that's why both you and your father are beautiful. I cannot understand the feeling of wanting to hold onto the deaths of others, and the feeling of fearing the deaths of others──.”
It is beautiful because I cannot understand it.
Penelope whispered so.
“So my child, become my daughter. I will make both your father and you mine.”
“……I refuse.”
Monika narrowed her eyes.
“You're really stubborn, Lady Penelope.”
“That's right. That is the secret to my beauty.”
Fufu, it went.
Just as Penelope smiled,
──Guuung.
A streak of light brushed across the magic circle where Abel had stood.
“Abel-sensei?”
As Monika shot up,
“I'm glad you're not late.”
Penelope also calmly got to her feet.
‘……I'm tired.’
Abel stood on the magic circle with an indifferent expression.
He had taken everything he needed. It was time to go back.
Abel, who had approached Penelope, held out a shabby book,
“This is the material with the identities of the cardinals written in it.”
And then he held out a pristine book to Monika.
“And a gift, Monika.”
“……A gift?”
Monika took the book Abel held out.
There was no title written on the cover. Just as she was about to blankly open the book,
“It would be better to look at it when you're alone.”
Abel whispered with a faint smile.
“Because it is a memory left by Fleur.”