Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: Small Miracle (1)
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A dark, narrow space sealed off on all sides.
A boy huddled there, sitting with his knees drawn up.
The boy's name was Rossburn. An orphan, an inn worker, and a student at the magic tower... or so he had thought. No, he was just a lab rat.
An experimental lab rat.
Well, it was a common enough story in this city.
Kids who thought they'd seized the opportunity of a lifetime through luck and talent, only to plummet to the very bottom.
Especially among orphans, the ratio was high.
There was no adult around to warn them that opportunities like that were often crises in disguise, and there were countless such traps in Randa.
If that was a sin, then perhaps it was.
"Is that really a sin?"
Rossburn murmured softly, hugging his knees to his chest.
There was no one else in the solitary cell, so no answer should have come, but astonishingly, a voice replied from the darkness.
A voice as gentle as a mother's and as kind as an older sister's.
It was probably a hallucination, but Rossburn no longer cared.
What did it matter if it was real or not?
He just craved the response.
"Is it a sin that no adult ever told me to be careful?"
"Who knows?"
The voice in the darkness answered vaguely. Rossburn felt confused.
"Th-then why am I being punished here? I-I've never committed any sin..."
The kind voice replied skeptically once more.
"Who knows?... If you're being punished, doesn't that mean you've sinned? Otherwise, why would you end up like this?"
The boy fell silent.
She was right. If he hadn't sinned, how could he be suffering punishment? And if that were the case, how tragic would it be? Punished without having sinned.
The boy touched his body.
His upper body was wrapped in bandages. Very thick bandages.
He had gotten an injection, fallen asleep, and woken up like this. The researchers had told him the surgery had been a success.
They said if he just endured a bit of pain, he could evolve from an inferior Barbari into a true human.
He couldn't understand a word of it.
What was a Barbari? What did true human even mean?
Rossburn opened his mouth.
"I..."
"Yes, I'm listening."
"I just... I just wanted to go to school. Just... to be able to study...... Is that a sin, maybe?"
Another skeptical reply came.
"Who knows? Wanting to study doesn't sound like a sin to me. Quite the opposite—it deserves praise. Learning is a virtue and a joy."
Rossburn squeezed his eyes shut tight.
It was all darkness anyway, but closing his eyes helped him focus his thoughts better.
"...Th-then, is it because I was a bother?"
"A bother?"
"Yes...... Because I bothered the guests to teach me to read?"
"Hm...... Did that guest dislike it?"
Rossburn clutched his head with both hands. Had his teacher disliked it?
"N-no...... Probably not. Then, maybe because I slacked off to learn to read? At the inn?"
"Did you slack off?"
Rossburn thought for a moment and shook his head.
He had cut back a little on work time to learn to read, but he'd worked even harder during the remaining time.
So he wouldn't lose the hard-won opportunity over some minor complaint.
He had really... really worked hard.
That's why Rossburn couldn't understand it at all. It confused him even more.
"No...... I really worked hard."
"Really?"
At those words, Rossburn wrapped his head and slammed his forehead against the floor.
He had worked so hard—could it really not have been enough?
What did working hard even mean in the first place?
When he could no longer tell what was what, the voice in the darkness spoke softly.
"Maybe you ended up here because you slacked off and bothered the guests? That's why the innkeeper handed you over, and the guest who taught you to read never came to see you?"
Rossburn's mind was overwhelmed by chaos.
Having been in the darkness too long, he could no longer distinguish reality.
Whether he'd lived diligently, whether his eyes were open or closed, whether he was sitting or lying down—nothing was certain.
Was Rossburn truly a sinner?
Was that why he was being punished here?
"...N-no, that's not it."
"What's not?"
"I asked the lady of the house to sell me. I wanted to study, so she didn't sell me out of spite."
"Oh?"
"Yes...... And the teacher too. He's probably just busy and couldn't come. It's happened a few times before. That's probably it. He definitely wanted to come but couldn't."
Rossburn shouted it out.
Almost like thrashing about in desperation.
Worked hard and still sold off, forgotten by the one who'd shown him kindness. Wasn't that too cruel?
So Rossburn desperately denied it. To preserve at least that much solace.
The voice in the darkness knew this too.
"I see. But you're here, and no one's come looking for you."
Rossburn's eyes shook violently once more.
Whatever the case, it was the truth. In this cramped darkness where he could barely lie down, alone—that was the only reality for Rossburn.
He had been sold here, and no one had come to save or even search for him.
In that moment, rage surged in Rossburn's mind. Primal rage.
Why him, of all people?
Suspecting he might have overlooked some memory, he delved even deeper into his mind.
When he'd first been sold to the inn as hired help, or his life at the orphanage.
What had he done so wrong?
Broken a plate? Not helped a sick friend to the end? Failed to finish the cleaning the director assigned on time?
Then, a sudden realization struck him.
"...Was I born a sinner?"
The voice in the darkness answered with silence.
That silence convinced him more than any affirmation could.
He had sinned by being born.
Just as countless adults had said: orphans sinned by being born, destined for hell in the end.
Rossburn wore an expression no child should have.
"Are you angry?"
As Rossburn slowly raised his head, a faint silhouette appeared in the darkness.
A woman riding atop a grotesque beast.
She asked softly.
"Do you want revenge?"
"...Yes."
"Then I'll help you."
An abrupt offer. Yet Rossburn didn't doubt her words.
He couldn't explain why, but he didn't doubt.
If anything, he was worried.
If she helped him, he could have revenge, but it felt like a calamity beyond imagination would spread.
A disaster far beyond Rossburn's imagination.
He wanted revenge, but his conscience screamed no, leaving him at a loss as he clamped his mouth shut.
"........."
"Don't want revenge? ...What a good boy. Even after what happened to you, you don't want to hurt others. That's truly impressive. I mean it. But do you know?"
"That no matter how good you are, no one in this world will appreciate it? Because there have been, are, and will be plenty of good kids like you."
With those words, the woman made of darkness reached out and tapped Rossburn's temple.
Then, fragments of countless memories faintly brushed through his mind.
Kids working in mines, kids selling newspapers on the streets, kids abandoned by parents, kids selling their bodies.
In the past, present, and future—countless good children had suffered, every one of them.
A terrifying emptiness descended.
The emptiness of something precious he'd desperately clung to feeling utterly futile.
In that emptiness, only rage remained. Rage toward the entire world. Rage toward the world that ignored and abandoned them.
Rossburn's lips trembled as he asked.
"...Revenge...... I want it. How do I do it?"
In that moment, the woman in the darkness seemed to smile faintly.
She spoke softly.
"Simple. Offer everything."
"Pardon? ...Everything?"
"Yes, everything. Your dreams, hopes, efforts, life, conscience, humanity, soul—whatever. Then I'll grant you revenge greater than the rage you feel. One no one will ever forget."
Rossburn's heart pounded.
Since falling for sweet words and ending up here—no, for most of his life—it hadn't raced like this.
How many times had it done so before now? Probably only when his teacher taught him to read.
He could have revenge. Against the world that dropped him here, that pretended not to see him.
An insignificant nobody like him could leave a mark on the world.
Rossburn wanted to say he'd offer it all right then.
He wanted revenge that way. To scar the world. To leave his trace...!
As he opened his mouth to speak, a memory flashed through his mind.
The lady of the house who let him rest when sick and gave him extra food. And Dave, who accepted his request.
Impulse and reason clashed desperately.
".....Guhhh!!"
As Rossburn couldn't answer, the woman in the darkness stroked his head.
Whether hallucination or not, her touch felt incredibly gentle.
"If it's hard to choose, you don't have to. I don't mind that either. Truly."
"......"
"As a special note, I'll tell you one thing."
"......?"
"If you don't seek revenge, you'll be saved."
"...Saved?"
"Yes, of course. If you live righteously, even an orphan will be saved by the gods. They're equal, after all."
In that moment, Rossburn felt like he'd encountered a ray of light.
Until the woman in the darkness spoke again.
"Of course, we can't know what will happen to the others captured with you."
"......The others?"
"Yes, whether they get saved or not. It's not easy to live sinless and diligently like you."
Rossburn plunged back into anguish. Once more, he didn't know what was what.
Was there no way to save them all? Rage boiled up again.
What sin had they committed, exactly?
His indescribable fury no longer cared for targets. Just—let them all die.
All of them!
When fatigue and rage made even thinking a chore, Rossburn finally spoke.
He had made his decision.
"I—"
——Boom!
"...?"
A massive crash from the distant entrance. Not just Rossburn—even the woman in the darkness, who hadn't glanced away once, turned her head.
She spoke, sounding both pleased and regretful.
"......Well, it seems he's come first. What a shame."
"Pardon?"
He asked back, not understanding, but no reply came.
The woman in the darkness, whom he'd barely sensed until now, had vanished completely.
All their conversation felt like a dream.
——Boom!
———Crash!
Consecutive crashes rang out, followed by the sound of something breaking.
He wondered if this was a hallucination too, but the shaking floor and walls proved otherwise.
This had never happened before.
Footsteps echoed: thud, thud.
They stopped right in front of Rossburn's room.
Instinctively, Rossburn shrank back.
The sound of gripping the iron door, then—crunch! With a screech, the iron door swung open.
Light slowly illuminated the room.
With the light came a man. A face Rossburn had never seen, but somehow he knew who it was.
The man said,
"Sorry I'm a bit late, Rossburn."