Chapter 201: The Truman Show-4
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 201: The Truman Show-4
The relief workers, who had spent the night in the lodgings provided by the village representative, rose from their beds as soon as the morning sun began to climb.
While the food distribution was scheduled for lunch, there was much to prepare beforehand.
First, the priests and nuns counted the food supplies that the holy knights and inquisitors had guarded in shifts to ensure the quantities were correct. Meanwhile, the apprentice priests moved large cloths and cheap wooden bowls into the cargo beds.
Once the inventory was verified, the holy knights loaded the food into the wagons and took turns standing guard around them, wary of anyone who might try to steal the supplies.
When preparations reached a point where they could depart at a moment's notice, they settled for a breakfast of a small piece of bread and a cup of milk.
Just as everyone had finished their assigned tasks and was eating their meager breakfast to stave off hunger, an attendant entered the Saint’s room to wake him.
The Saint rose, rubbing his sleepy eyes, and offered a brief morning prayer.
The attendant watched the reverent sight from the side, and once the Saint’s prayer concluded, poured water heated to a comfortable temperature into a small basin.
After washing his face with the warm water, the Saint ate a breakfast consisting of a slightly larger loaf of bread, soup, and a cup of milk—a meal more substantial than what the others had received.
Once finished, the Saint brushed his teeth, donned his neatly pressed clothes, and stepped out of the lodging, with the attendant following silently behind.
The Saint boarded the carriage that was already waiting for him. The attendant climbed into the same carriage.
"Hyah!"
With the spirited shout of a holy knight acting as the driver, the horses, having regained their strength from a meal of hay, began to move.
The two horses, their coats glossy and their bodies muscular, moved exactly as the driver led them. As with the previous day, the rhythmic sound of hooves striking the road was pleasant to the ear.
Naturally, word of the Saint had already spread. Even though they hadn't set up yet, a crowd had already gathered in the square. They parted just enough for the carriage to pass, but the sight of hands reaching out as if to tear open the carriage door was quite frightening.
The supply wagons arrived first, and the relief workers moved nimbly to set up.
Under a makeshift tent, they placed the large table Pietro had brought. A white tablecloth was laid over it, and loaves of bread were piled on top.
An apprentice priest came huffing and puffing, carrying a wooden tub filled with soup. It was a batch they had been preparing since dawn.
The aroma of bread and soup wafted through the square, and the disorganized crowd scrambled toward the tent.
The holy knights and inquisitors blocked the surging mass, pushing them back. It was a scene of total chaos, like two armies clashing.
Beggars wearing rags that barely deserved to be called clothes reached out with vacant eyes.
"Move back!"
A holy knight in thick armor shouted, using his body to shove the people back.
When a beggar pushed by the knight fell backward, the others went down like a row of dominoes.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!!"
People became entangled like a knotted mess of yarn, rolling across the ground.
Amidst the groans rising from everywhere, a signal came that preparations were complete. The holy knights and inquisitors raised their voices even louder to force the people into a line.
The disorder, which seemed like it would never subside, gradually found its shape through the influence of devout faith, swords, and axes.
Those yearning for bread and soup formed a line that stretched out like a decades-old serpent.
Under the supervision of the holy knights and inquisitors, the apprentice priests ladled soup into wooden bowls, while the priests and nuns distributed them along with the bread.
"Now, now, one at a time. Return the bowls when you're finished."
An inquisitor spoke to a beggar who was walking away with his food.
Those who received their meals scattered to various corners of the village to satisfy their hunger, while the onlookers who had come simply to see the Saint’s face joined the line alongside the beggars, thinking they might as well get some food too.
When about half of the prepared food had been distributed, the carriage door opened, and the Saint appeared, dressed in a pure white uniform.
—Shh.
All the commotion in the square died down.
The Saint, looking every bit the nobleman, wore a benevolent smile and his pristine white uniform.
He greeted a nun who had been working hard ladling soup and took her place. Rolling up his sleeves, he picked up the ladle and began personally serving the soup into the bowls.
"Uh... ugh... Th-thank you."
An onlooker who was next in line to receive soup gaped like a goldfish upon seeing the Saint’s face.
"You're welcome. Please, enjoy your meal."
Enjoy your meal.
What a gracious blessing.
The priest and nun listening nearby let out small gasps of admiration.
However, the Saint’s words only truly reached them. For the beggars trapped in the swamp of hunger, the warmth of the soup in their hands was more comforting than the words of the Saint standing before them.
For over an hour, the beggars continued to receive bread and soup until the prepared food finally began to run low.
"There's still quite a long line left."
The Saint remarked, looking at the queue that still stretched far into the distance.
"Yes. It's unfortunate, but I believe we must end it here for today," said Maria, who was assisting him at his side.
"Next time, we should manage the line better. It seems some people who really need it aren't getting any."
The Saint was well aware that not only were people cutting in line, but some were sneaking back in to get seconds.
"Yes. We will have to manage it more strictly next time," Maria said, her eyes landing on a few people in a corner of the square who were grinning, revealing rotten teeth.
Ten minutes later, the bread was gone, and the soup pot was nearly empty. The Saint scraped the bottom of the pot with his ladle, trying to feed even one more person.
Finally, when even the soup was gone, the workers began loading the remaining gear back onto the wagons.
The Saint lightly dusted off his soiled uniform and stepped into the carriage, followed by Maria carrying a wet towel.
Once ready, the carriage headed back to the lodgings.
*
Nicola, the village representative who had been away on business, was waiting for In-ho in front of the lodging.
Nicola, who was on the younger side for a representative, showed In-ho great respect. He gave a nod to his workers, who then handed a heavy-looking box to a holy knight.
Even the sturdy knight grunted as he carried it deep into the temporary storehouse.
"Saint, I would like to host you for dinner tonight," said Nicola.
"Thank you. I shall see you at dinner, then."
At the tail end of autumn, the sun set earlier than expected.
In-ho took off his uniform, which was stained with soup, and changed into a spare set of clothes. While he changed, Maria used a handkerchief to wipe the skin he hadn't been able to reach.
"Where are we having dinner?" In-ho asked as he buttoned his shirt.
"I heard it will be held at the restaurant below the lodgings. There's no need for the hassle of traveling elsewhere," Maria replied.
"That's a relief. I'm a bit tired." In-ho let out a sigh of relief.
"Saint. May I step out for a moment?" Maria asked, meticulously checking his appearance.
"Is something the matter?"
"I need to check if the messenger I sent to Albainin Village has arrived. I expect him to arrive by nightfall, so I'd like to go and wait for him."
"Ah, you did send a messenger. Yes, please do. In fact, I should be the one asking you to check."
Maria smiled at In-ho’s words.
"Yes, I understand. I will ask someone else to guide you to dinner."
"Alright. Be careful. The night is dangerous."
"Thank you for your concern."
*
Meeting the messenger sent to Albainin Village was not a lie.
Maria had no intention of lying to the Saint. It was simply that the messenger had arrived earlier than expected, leaving her with some free time.
Now that the sun had completely set, the afternoon onlookers who had filled the square had already returned to their homes and inns.
What remained now in the darkest corners of the square were the beggars who had so enthusiastically received the bread and soup.
Maria chose the darkest alleys to walk through.
The beggars' eyes were gradually drawn to the modest woman passing before them. One by one, they stood up and began to follow her.
Just as humans have an appetite for food, they also have lust.
Maria was driven deeper into the alleyway like prey being cornered by hunters.
Eventually, she reached a dead end.
When Maria turned around at the wall before her, seven or eight vagrants were blocking her path. One of the more impatient ones already had his trousers halfway down.
"......"
Maria stared at them without a word. She didn't even utter the cliché, "What are you doing?"
"Weren't you the nun at the soup kitchen today?" the lead vagrant asked.
"Since you're a nun, why don't you help us out? See, this little guy here looks like he wants to eat something else."
He pointed toward his crotch.
Cackle, cackle. Unpleasant laughter echoed through the alley. It seemed to be an inside joke among them.
Maria scanned their faces.
Then, she uttered a single sentence.
"Sinners who cut the line."
Maria slowly raised something she had been cradling in her arms.
The massive object was wrapped in cloth, but as she grabbed the end and pulled, the fabric unraveled in an instant.
Revealed was her greatsword.
Without any warning, she lunged at the vagrants with the blade.
Cries of "Run!" or "What is this!" never came. Before the vagrants could even react, Maria had already claimed their heads.
Vivid blood flowed through the deserted alley.
Maria checked herself several times to make sure no blood had splattered on her.
"Now, shall we head back? The Saint is waiting."
Having judged the sinners who had pained the Saint’s heart, she left the alley with a sense of satisfaction.