novelraw Chapter 68 : Chapter 68
Chapter 68 : Chapter 68
Chapter 68: Moonlight Day (4)
“I barely caught up.”
Iris opened her mouth.
While tightening her grip on the steering wheel.
“I had dispatched the Orléans family’s spies. To keep an eye on the members of the Saint-Pierre family staying in the capital. Just in case an unexpected situation were to arise.”
Why didn’t you send a letter or something, she thought.
Iris continued, her voice mixed with a sigh.
“My intelligence network is not set up to track you. There are so many factions to keep an eye on.”
“Understand me. I didn't have the time.”
“Well, I suppose…”
it seems you were busy, she thought.
Iris muttered as she scanned Abel’s appearance.
He looked as if he had been struggling in a swamp. Had he been pierced by a spear? Not only was Abel’s formal coat torn in various places, but bloodstains and dust were also prevalent all over his body.
“...I have something to apologize for, Iris.”
Abel’s expression, however, was stoic.
He merely scratched the back of his neck and let out a sigh.
“The Sharma family’s museum… I broke it again.”
“You were busy, so it couldn’t be helped.”
Iris shrugged and smiled, then,
“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s my job to receive the Duke of Sharma’s protest, and all I have to do is smash your head.”
──Screech!
She sped up the mana-powered vehicle.
The black-painted mana-powered vehicle was speeding through the streets. The scenery of the capital, heated up with a festive atmosphere, was just leisurely. The procession of children gripping balloons was chaotic, and men and women dressed to the nines would wander about, their coattails swaying. Only Abel and Iris were busy inside the vehicle.
“Pertillier de Saint-Pierre.”
Iris’s light pink eyes sharpened.
Abel began to rummage through the file envelope.
“I’ve gathered information about her. It was quite troublesome because there was a lot of false information. He’s a diligent man, the Marquis of Saint-Pierre.”
Abel’s gaze moved busily.
He checked the official documents first. According to the records, Pertillier had suffered from a chronic illness her entire life. Despite mobilizing various divine magics and undergoing surgical operations, she eventually died. Deserick held a grand funeral for his dead wife, and Pertillier was buried as a member of the family.
‘It’s all lies.’
Abel began to examine the information beneath the surface.
Most of the facts listed earlier were false.
Pertillier had hanged herself at the end of suffering from madness, and the whereabouts of her corpse were unknown. The body used in the funeral must not have been Pertillier’s. Iris guessed it would be another woman who had died from illness around the same time. And for good reason, since fanatics abhorred those who ended their lives by suicide.
‘Her life before marrying the marquis…’
did not exist.
It was not recorded anywhere.
Pertillier’s place of origin, her surname before marriage, everything had been erased. The only thing that was certain was the fact that she was a commoner. Deserick had clearly had a hand in it.
‘What is the reason?’
Abel’s gaze narrowed.
Deserick’s actions were questionable. For what purpose did he seek to take Pertillier? What did he achieve that he cast her aside? Abel could not easily guess.
“It’s a rumor, but…”
And so, Iris said in a cautious tone.
It was because she had noticed Abel’s doubt.
“They say Mrs. Saint-Pierre was born with quite strong divine power. Deserick de Saint-Pierre must have needed that. To create the Evangelist Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”
“What does that mean?”
Abel tilted his head.
“Nothing changes even if the parents possess divine power. At best, the possibility that the child will also be born with divine power increases. In the first place, there’s no reason to be joined with a commoner, is there? There are plenty of people with strong divine power in noble families. The birth of an evangelist would be uncertain…”
“My, my, Abel.”
The corners of Iris’s mouth rose slightly.
“Your faith is too practical. You know that believers can’t be like that, don’t you?”
Because it is uncertain, one must be devout by all means.
Iris whispered so.
“A commoner woman who doesn’t know she possesses divine power. A noble man who discovers her potential and marries her, transcending status──.”
The evangelist born between them, Fleur de Saint-Pierre.
Doesn’t it sound like a fairy tale? If it were an anecdote written in the scriptures, the believers would have been deeply moved.
As he heard Iris’s words,
“...How absurd.”
Abel swept his hair back.
In other words, they had performed their lives. Believing that the Main Gods would watch over their creatures, it must have been a ritual to offer prayers by acting out a devout life. The faith of the man named Deserick was extremely twisted.
Good and evil, a sliver of ethics, sacrifice and blessing.
He had completely misinterpreted all the values bestowed upon faith.
“Anyway, Abel, according to what you’ve found out…”
The speed of the mana-powered vehicle gradually slowed.
Iris’s voice also began to slow down.
“Behind the murder case targeting the Saint-Pierre family, the religion of the apostates is lurking…”
The mana-powered vehicle came to a complete stop.
It was because the road was blocked. Two vehicles had stopped and were in a standoff. The expressions of the nobles who owned the vehicles were plain to see.
“So we need to track down the culprit quickly…”
Iris let out a sigh.
Beyond the black veil, Iris’s eyes narrowed.
- I say! Your damn vehicle has scratched the tail of my treasure. How do you plan to take responsibility?
- Do you have any proof? In the first place, what’s the big deal about a cheap mana-powered vehicle like that? It looks pretty old to be considered a treasure.
- Are you done talking? Get out here right now!
- You get out first. I will follow.
- Are you too scared to get out?
- Hah! Do you think I’ll be swayed by a provocation like that?
Hmm.
Iris, who had been pursing her lips, looked at Abel.
“Shall I throw the entire vehicle? Those two people.”
“You’ve become much gentler, Iris.”
Abel loosened the knot of his tie.
After gathering the documents and putting them in an envelope, he took off his coat and opened the passenger side door.
“The world we were in together before… if it were there, you would have broken it without hesitation.”
“That’s a story from hundreds of years ago. I’m a little embarrassed.”
“Anyway, that’s enough.”
I’ll go to the destination first. Follow me as quickly as you can.
After whispering so, Abel stood on the street. Gazes turned to Abel, who was clad in a torn dress shirt, covered in blood and dust. Abel leaped onto a building without caring. As he nimbly stepped between the walls, he disappeared from Iris’s sight.
‘How petty of you.’
Iris lit a cigarette.
There was a vehicle in front, and a vehicle in the back.
And so, as the sound of horns bloomed from all directions,
‘...O Main Gods, I pray for your mercy.’
A faint sigh.
Cigarette smoke poured from the corner of Iris’s mouth.
* * *
Naflansee District 2 of the capital, the Arcturus family’s villa library.
As a small bookworm hid between the old books,
‘It will be like a full moon at a lunar eclipse.’
Fleur stood facing the window. Between the group of clouds that made up the dusk, the full moon revealed its outline. A circular celestial body like a flashing eyeball. No, the eye of the World God like a circular celestial body. Fleur made a visor with her hand and stared at it. At the same time, she carefully extended her other hand and tried to cover the surface of the moon with a sphere held between her index finger and thumb.
‘It’s red.’
A crimson sphere.
It covered the moon. As if forming a lunar eclipse.
Although it was of a size similar to a glass marble, its color was too ominous to be dismissed as a mere ornament.
‘It’s throbbing.’
The sphere was bobbing. Like a heart.
Fleur’s light pink lips parted. The steam in her faint sigh brushed the surface of the sphere. The pulsating sphere flinched for a moment, then began to bob like a predator that had found its prey.
Fleur swallowed.
The sphere, after crumpling it into her mouth.
She then stood still with her head bowed. The wind blowing from outside the window caressed Fleur’s flower crown, and Fleur gently closed her eyes and entrusted her body to the silence.
Thump.
While feeling something taking root in her body.
Thump again.
While feeling something beginning to consume her whole body.
And so, thump, thump, thump.
Fleur’s heartbeat, echoing as it tore through the silence.
“Fleur-nim.”
Soon, creak.
Along with the sound of a door opening,
“What brings you here?”
The professor of the Department of Theology and a collateral branch of the Saint-Pierre family, Raphael de Arcturus, appeared.
“The library is quite a mess, isn’t it? It’s because I’ve forbidden the servants from entering as I’m engrossed in my research. How embarrassing. It would have been better if you had waited in the reception room…”
Raphael, who had been speaking while taking off his robe, paused.
It was because Fleur did not move. Raphael tilted his head once, then took a step towards the silently standing Fleur, and…
“Good day, Professor Arcturus.”
Fleur looked back.
Holding her flower crown, with a smile.
“It’s the first day of the Moonlight Day. I was bored being at CIAR. I thought it would be nice to pray with you, Professor. Was I, by any chance, a bother?”
“...Ah, of course not.”
Raphael shook his head.
“Prayer is always welcome.”
A simple table placed in the center of the library.
Fleur and Raphael sat with it between them. A pile of roughly melted candles, a pile of theology books, and the scripture of the Platinum Round Table Orthodoxy. The objects on the table were proving Raphael’s faith.
“Professor Arcturus, you…”
Fleur opened her mouth.
While flipping through Eschatology without context.
“are truly diligent. A scripture so full of handprints. How many times must you have read it through?”
“I have only read and transcribed it whenever I had a spare moment. More importantly, Fleur-nim, please call me Raphael in private. Didn’t we promise to do so?”
“That’s right. I forgot.”
Fleur lifted her head.
She scanned Raphael’s features with sparkling eyes.
The man sitting with Soteriology by his side. The pride on Raphael’s face was distinct. To that man, faith must be everything in his life. A life of praying while repeatedly self-harming, and endlessly repeating the words in the scripture. Fleur could not easily fathom it.
“Raphael.”
And so, she had always wanted to ask.
“I have something I want to ask before we pray.”
“Please ask anything. I, Raphael de Arcturus, am honored to be able to give teachings to the young lady of the main family.”
“Pertillier de Saint-Pierre.”
At Fleur’s mention, Raphael’s expression froze.
“When I was young, I was so curious about my commoner mother. Sometimes I was sad that I couldn’t meet her. I heard she suffered from a chronic illness, is that true?”
“That is correct.”
Raphael answered without hesitation.
“I do not know the detailed circumstances. I was on a pilgrimage at the time.”
“Can’t you tell me what you know?”
“There is nothing else to tell.”
Haha.
Raphael laughed.
“It is true that the marquise suffered from an illness. Nevertheless, she did her best to give birth to Fleur-nim. The Main Gods must have helped the marquise as well. Since Fleur-nim was born in such a healthy state…”
“...The Main Gods helped.”
Fleur propped her chin on her hand.
Her clear eyes curved thinly.
“Did they really?”
“The Main Gods are always watching over us. They always help those whose faith is abundant. Sometimes it may feel insufficient. However, if you live with a grateful heart…”
“Stop it, Raphael.”
It’s all lies, isn’t it, she said.
Fleur admonished in an exceptionally soft tone.
What is this? Raphael thought, furrowing his brow. Why is she asking about her deceased mother? Has she found something out? The marquise… no, that commoner wench died a long time ago. Everyone in the family keeps silent about her.
“My mother committed suicide.”
Fleur stood up from her chair.
Her soft voice gradually became stern.
“I already know that fact.”
“F-Fleur-nim…”
Ugh.
Raphael let out a groan.
“Forgive me. I could not tell the truth.”
Raphael’s head lowered.
Fleur’s gaze stiffened slightly.
“Suicide is a sin. To choose death in this perfect world. Is that not an insult to the Main Gods? I do not know by what means you came to know the truth, but it is not something for Fleur-nim to feel guilty about. Fleur-nim’s appearance and inner self resemble the head of the family, and have you not also achieved an audience with the God of the Underworld?”
Do not be ashamed.
Do not hate yourself.
Arcturus whispered so. With his hands clasped, in a considerate tone.
“I suppose so.”
Fleur nodded.
“I do not resemble my mother. My eyes, my hair, not even a piece of my skin doesn't resemble my father. And what about my heart? Whatever disposition my mother had… she probably wasn’t as cold as I am.”
Lift your head, Raphael.
Hurry. I don’t want to interrogate you.
Fleur whispered so.
“I was just curious. I have no intention of holding you responsible. You said you were on a pilgrimage in the first place.”
Raphael carefully lifted his head.
Was it because of the sunset light? Fleur’s face looked somewhat agitated.
Impossible. Raphael thought, laughing hollowly. The members of the entire family served this girl. They provided for the best life, the best education. And so, Fleur had always lived up to their expectations.
To be enraged over a mere commoner wench.
It was an outrageous thing. The Evangelist Fleur de Saint-Pierre was the treasure of the family.
“I, Raphael de Arcturus, have worried for nothing.”
Raphael placed his hand on his right chest.
He then gave a slight nod.
“I was concerned that your faith might have weakened. Especially since there is turmoil spreading within the family.”
“Because of the murder case?”
“That is correct. The Main Gods have bestowed a penance upon us. To weed out those whose faith is weak.”
Death is common.
At the same time, it is right. Because it is a part of fate.
The Main Gods would not bestow a wrong death. To resent death would be to go against the will of the Main Gods.
Fleur might not know yet. She was still young, even if she could perform resuscitation. Raphael was relieved as he thought so. Since the family members were dying one after another, did she become curious about her mother’s death because of that? Fortunately, Fleur didn’t seem to mind.
“Raphael.”
And so, Fleur extended her hand.
Towards Raphael, with a faint smile.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Raphael also held a faint smile.
He looked up at Fleur with a gaze steeped in faith.
“As a member of the Saint-Pierre family…”
A very brief moment.
“from now on, I will…”
It must be just a moment, but
why does it feel so long?
“...Huh?”
A question that distorted Raphael’s doubt.
Pfft. The sound of piercing skin bent like a question mark, and
“Why… why?”
A stream of blood obscuring Raphael’s vision.
It happened in the blink of an eye. It felt like he had actually closed and opened his eyes once. No, he didn't know. Could one perceive the moment of blinking one by one? As such a silly thought dominated Raphael’s mind,
“No. I have work to do…”
Fleur muttered.
With her chest pierced by a blade.
“...Raphael. Help me, Raphael.”
Gurgle.
A guttural sound was mixed in Fleur’s breath.
It must be because the blade had distorted her respiratory organs.
And so, as Fleur staggered and reached out,
Raphael’s lips twitched with the power of a chant, and
──Thud!
The sound of Fleur’s body collapsing.
Ahahat.
A laugh echoing in Raphael’s ear.
Crash──!
And along with that, as if striking the keyboard of a piano violently,
“Aaargh!”
Raphael’s sharp, single scream that wrinkled the library.
Cough, hack…. Raphael crawled on the floor, gasping for breath. His vision began to blur. Without even realizing that the two arms rolling in front of him were his own, without even knowing what was happening, Raphael was just flailing according to his instincts, and
“──Found you.”
the face of a strange man loomed over Raphael.
Wrong. It wasn’t a face, but a mask. Between the gaps of the mask forged from iron, bright eyes curved with a smile.
That was why, ahahat, ahahat. A groan-like laugh tore through Raphael’s mind, but
“There is no revenge as perfect as forgiveness.”
he heard it clearly. The strange man’s voice.
Because it was the content of the scripture Raphael had read countless times.
His build was like that of a young man, but his voice was still like that of a boy.
“So let’s take revenge. So that I can forgive you all.”
No, that’s not what it means.
What kind of joke-like interpretation is this?
The Main Gods did not give such a teaching. To misinterpret the contents of the scripture. It is an unbearable blasphemy.
Raphael thought, clinging to his fading consciousness. It was a simple thought to have in the face of death. It was because his mind could not perceive his dying life.
So why, why on earth…
‘The man in the mysterious mask.’
ridiculously,is the man in the clown mask coming to mind?
“...Ahaha.”
And also ridiculously,
“You, you seem to be having a pretty funny thought.”
is such an opinion, as if dealing with a clown,the last voice he would hear in the face of death?