City of the Angel
Several rumors drifted across Europe about Daehan's port. The Holy See called it a city of demons. The people, on the other hand, called it a city of angels.
"They say nobody starves to death in that city…."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"There's a place called Pyeong-an Naru in Portugal. Around it, they say, no one dies of hunger."
As Haneul built and ran the port, the city drew an enormous crowd. Naturally, beggars and orphans flocked in by the dozens as well — after all, only where people gathered could they scrape out a living.
"What the heck, why are there so many beggars and orphans? It's an eyesore, so round them up in one spot. We run a food business anyway — just hand out whatever's left over."
Handing it out was a generous way of putting it. In practice, Haneul simply kept conjuring food nonstop, and once it went cold, it got distributed to whoever was nearby. Moses watching the whole thing with a strange expression on her face was just a bonus.
And that day, too, was one of those days Haneul spent idly wandering the city.
"Just one coin, please…."
"Why are you out here begging?"
"Ah! My lady, just one coin, please."
Haneul had only asked because the beggar caught her eye, but the man, taking in her expensive-looking clothes, had clearly mistaken her for a nobleman's daughter.
"No, I'd give you money anyway — I'm just curious."
Haneul had been making her rounds through the city when she saw someone young-looking begging and found it odd enough to ask.
"It's, well… one of my legs doesn't work right."
"Your leg?"
"Yes…."
He held out the leg, and it was plain to see — the wound had never been properly treated, and gangrene was creeping through it bit by bit.
"What, seriously? Why didn't you at least slap some herbs on it?"
"How would a lowly wretch like me know a healing herb from a poisonous one…? Sob…."
At Haneul's frown, the man grew frightened. Showing his mangled leg to a noble lady — wouldn't she beat him for it? He hastily hid it away.
"Here, drink this."
"Wh-what is it?"
When Haneul thrust out a mysterious bottle, the man hesitated, wary. Alchemists, after all, were known to feed random strangers anything and observe the results — sometimes ending in vomited blood and death. So he took it carefully, opened the stopper, and gave it a sniff. There was a fragrance to it. It didn't feel like anything bad for the body.
"Thank you…."
Truthfully, he'd already resigned himself — with his leg worsening by the day, he didn't have long to live. Might as well try something, whether he died this way or that. He tipped the bottle back and swallowed.
"Mm…."
"Wait a little."
"My foot… it's getting warm?"
He looked down at his leg and saw something astonishing. Black water was streaming out of it.
"Gah!"
The shock of it nearly stopped his heart — and then, as the black liquid drained away and the wound began to close, he was floored all over again.
"Now if you just eat properly, you'll be able to work again. Go to the port over there — there's plenty to do."
Seeing the wound healed, Haneul looked relieved — though the words came out brusque and clipped before she stood up.
"My lady! Thank you, truly! How could I ever repay this kindness? Sob…."
"I hate seeing people beg by the roadside, so go work, earn some coin, wear clean clothes, and eat well. Got it?"
"Thank you!"
The outside world's rumors about this port city were deeply strange — that demons devoured people there, dragged them off to hell. Yet watching so many pour into the city regardless, he had come here too, intending only to beg.
"Thank you, truly!"
He carved the sight of Haneul's retreating figure into his heart one last time and bowed his head with a great cry. In that so-called city of demons, the man believed, for the first time in his life, that salvation existed. Every rumor of a demon city had been a lie. And someone that beautiful — she had to be an angel.
This is the city of angels, without a doubt.
Anywhere else in Europe, the roads were mud and the air stank of filth. But inside this city, everything was spotless, the streets neatly paved with stone. And above all, that fortress in the distance blazed with light even at night — the demon's hour — as if to drive the darkness back.
"Pfft…."
"???"
"PWAHAHA!"
"What? What's so funny!?"
Why was she cackling at him like that? There couldn't be anything on his face — and even if there were, it would wipe right off.
"Why are you rubbing your face? There's nothing on it."
"Then what is it?"
"Word's gotten around that you worked another miracle today, that's all."
Huh? The beggar from earlier? The rumor had already traveled this far?
"Ahem! Yes, I did another good deed, didn't I."
"Indeed, you did, Angel. Simply magnificent."
"Oh, stop it, you're embarrassing me! I don't even have wings!"
Even the angel statues had enormous wings, didn't they?
"That's why they're calling you the Wingless Angel. They've named the city after it too — City of the Angel. PWAHAHAHA!"
"Ah…."
How mortifying.
"Look, I only cleared the beggars off the main streets because it's bad for the city's appearance, that's all!"
It was all about attracting customers, okay? A city that looked good drew more visitors!
"Of course~ which is why you went and built them a separate mess hall and dormitories~"
Ugh. She wanted to smack her.
「KEEEEEEEEN」
Wow. That steam whistle was genuinely insane! How could a sound that ridiculous carry so loud?
"Another ship coming in?"
"Yes. There's a mountain of goods being sold off."
Far more merchandise was moving through than the Horned Whales alone could ever hope to carry. The saving grace was that most of it came from the Eastern Continent. The Original Continent produced the industrial goods — cotton cloth in particular was sweeping through Europe after conquering Asia.
"Making money sure is easy, huh?"
"Seems easy only for us, though?"
The Holy See was trying to check their influence, calling it a city of witches, a city of demons — but it was all utterly futile. The countless ships passing their port still docked in Lisbon, and their passengers boarded carriages and came right back to Haneul's city.
"The Holy See's been gathering men, saying the Reconquista isn't finished yet?"
"Yes. Intel from the salons."
These nobles had no secrets whatsoever. Gathered in the salons, drinking and chattering away about everything under the sun, never dreaming that Haneul's people heard every word. Apparently one longtime visitor had even bought an estate nearby.
"Should I just flatten the Holy See with a bomb?"
"Shall I prepare one?"
"Might as well, if they pick a fight."
All well and good — except the British had slipped neatly out of the picture. Portugal had been broken, Spain settled, and England was next on the list, but then Venice had barged in and ruined the schedule. Word had spread, of course, and England had duly paid its tribute and slipped away. And Spain — some fool named Cortés had ignited something and launched a conquest of the Eastern Continent's south, where Aymaru was busy beating him into paste.
Seriously, what a peaceful world. Wars never stop.
Europe's intellectuals streamed into the City of the Angel in droves.
"How on earth does that ship move?"
"Surely the smoke means something is being burned?"
"Yes, but burn it and do what, exactly?"
Daehan's steamships had them thoroughly mystified.
"But how did they forge plates of iron that enormous?"
"If only I could see one up close…."
One man, of course, actually tried swimming out to a ship in the dead of night.
"Who goes there!"
"Gah…."
Sneaking up on a ship in a port lit bright as day was next to impossible. Most never got within a hundred paces before being caught and tossed out again.
"Still — how do they light the city that brightly at night?"
"Did they capture the sun and bottle it up?"
"How would you even—"
That brilliant light, banishing the darkness itself, was truly magnificent. Even the theologians were stunned — the moment one of them laid eyes on a light bulb, he could only wonder aloud how this was supposed to be a city of demons.
"There are some on the street posts. Shall we fetch one?"
"Is that even possible?"
"Only one way to find out."
And so they proceeded to steal light bulbs straight off the streetlamps. Scholars or common thieves — who could say.
"Hey! You there! Seize them!"
"GYAAAAH!"
As one group led the guards off on a chase —
"Quickly, hurry!"
"Bring the ladder!"
— the rest raced over to strip the bulbs.
"Gwah, it's hot!"
"Endure it!"
"Grrk! It's scorching!"
The party fled the other way, clutching hands blistered raw from burns. Truly — could one call these men scholars?
Anyway, leaving the ones who'd been caught aside, the rest of the scholars gathered in a nearby inn and examined their prize.
"Hmm? Why isn't it shining?"
"Strange, isn't it?"
"Perhaps that pillar was the main body!"
"Haah… how are we supposed to pull up a pillar? It was made of iron."
The research activities of these conscience-free academics carried on regardless.
"Wait — isn't this glass?"
"Oh? It really is!"
The glass of a light bulb wasn't especially clear by Daehan's standards, but to Europeans it was an extraordinary treasure.
"So glass is commonplace for them…."
"Look at the buildings deeper in the port — every single window is glass, isn't it…."
In Europe at the time, making a window out of glass was hardly different from studding a building with gemstones. Glass of high clarity traded for prices to match.
"Good heavens — they hang glass out on the street like this?"
"Shall we open it up?"
"Such a waste…."
And so they began carefully dissecting the bulb.
"What's this inside? There's some black substance coating it?"
"Hm. Charcoal, perhaps?"
"Why did they leave this copper wire wound about like so?"
"Haah… I haven't the faintest idea."
One ought to have grasped the concept of electricity first, and only then examined a bulb — but with the very first thread sewn on crooked, they could have stared for a hundred days and understood nothing.
"In the end, we'll simply have to pull up one of those iron pillars…."
"Right! Let us devise a plan."
So they made their plan, recruited more men, and several nights later they set out into the street. Their target: the pillar in the most remote, forgotten corner.
"When the patrol comes, our group will draw their eyes! You focus on the work."
"Understood. Good luck."
"Much obliged."
The men split into three parties — two to lure the patrols away from either side, and the rest to loop ropes over the pillar and topple it.
"Then let's begin!"
"Ladder first!"
They laid the ladder, slung ropes high around the pillar, and heaved with all their might.
「KRRRUNCH」
Before their eyes, the pillar began to bend and topple.
"Ho! Just a little more!"
"Good, good!"
And at that moment, as they hauled away, the wires inside snapped.
「SNAP」
"Eh? What the—"
"Why did it go dark?"
"Grab the fallen one first!"
The moon was out, so they could still tell one object from another. And the men came running toward the toppled pillar with its bulbs.
"Right, let's have a listen."
「ZZZZZAP-CRACKLE」
"AAAAAAAAGH."
The first man to arrive had touched something he shouldn't have — and seized rigid, his body beginning to shake.
It felt as if ten thousand ants were gnawing at him from within, but he couldn't so much as move his mouth.
「THWACK」
"Ughhhhhh."
Terrified out of his mind — agony wracking him while his body refused to obey — he could only watch as a comrade approached.
"Eh? It's bright again."
"But what on earth is wrong with you, man?"
The comrade was making a strange noise, drool running from his mouth. The moment he took hold of the man's arm —
"Urrrrrgh."
— he too began making the same strangled sounds, drool dripping down his chin.
The current had weakened, but he was in precisely the same state as the first. And ominously, the streetlamps along the road began to flicker — bright, then dark, then bright again.
"Gah? What's happening?"
"What's the matter with you all!"
Seized by an inexplicable dread, they grew uneasy. And then, quite suddenly, it came back to them: the city called the city of demons, the city of witches.
"We're cursed!"
"It's because we touched the witch's things!"
Men calling themselves scientists, spouting this.
And then the smell began to drift over — the scent of burning protein.
"Get them out of here, now!"
"Hurry!"
But even the men sent to drag them away —
"Uuuuuuu."
"Uuuuuh…."
— stiffened where they stood, drool spilling from their lips.
"Wh… what…."
"RUN!"
"It's a curse!"
The remaining comrades watching from behind simply turned and fled. Honestly — with your friends flipping their eyes back one by one and drooling like overfilled wineskins, who could keep their wits about them? On a midnight street, in a city with that kind of infamous reputation, no less?
Leaving four corpses sprawled in the middle of the night, the scholars declared that a curse had fallen upon them, and began fleeing the city.
And the next day.
"HEY! YOU! YOU BUNCH OF FILTHY THIEVES! WHY'D YOU STEAL PERFECTLY GOOD LIGHT BULBS AND THEN RIP OUT THE WHOLE PILLAR!?"
"My lady! Please, compose yourself!"
"What are you doing!? Grab her! NOW!"
They were having a devil of a time holding back Haneul, who was bellowing and trying to charge out the door with her revolver in hand.