Chapter 153
Chapter 153
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 153
Chapter Title: The Deceptive Saint (2)
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In the end, we concluded that there was no better option than to silently follow Collet.
Judith positioned herself between Collet and me, like a bodyguard knight, ensuring we didn't get too close.
But it wasn't strange for Judith to act with such sharp vigilance.
To us, who didn't know the internal layout, this underground passage was practically the perfect trap.
"Is it much farther?"
"The interior is a bit complicated. We're almost there."
Until just a moment ago, we could barely see our feet, but as our eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to make out what Judith was doing.
Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it at any moment.
Collet must be aware of the situation as well.
Yet her straight-backed posture and steady gait remained unchanged.
"Here it is."
-Creak.
After walking for about ten minutes or so.
It was a distance that, on the surface, would take us from the hospital ward to the Wooden Cross Pavilion.
Collet unhesitatingly pushed open a wooden door built into the wall, then reached in with her arm and pulled something out.
"A veil?"
"It's blessed by the priest. Since you're not a magician, I thought it might help..."
What she handed me was a cloth longer than a light silk cloak.
Even if it had received a priest's blessing, unless it crossed into the realm of 'magic,' it didn't seem to hold much significance...
Perhaps there was another intention behind it. I asked to confirm.
"You're telling me to wear this?"
As I hesitated while holding it, Collet seemed to think I didn't know how to put it on. She wrapped one end around my waist to secure it, then draped the remaining long part over my shoulders.
With it draped over my uniform, I looked just like a saint from a religious painting of Isis, clad in a chiton.
"...And what about you, Collet?"
"I'm fine. It seems saints are okay too..."
That statement essentially proved that the person Collet wanted me to meet was a child infected with the plague.
"Where is that 'child'?"
With the black veil over my head, I ultimately came to understand what Collet truly desired.
The closer we got to the narrow passage leading inward, the more bone-chilling it became.
"This smell..."
Judith sensed the ominous atmosphere and hardened her expression.
I knew exactly what she was about to say.
"Um—Executor, I mean..."
Collet, who was brazenly confident in her own affairs and acted as she pleased.
But the current Collet seemed restless and grief-stricken.
"It's fine. Lead the way."
At my words, Collet nodded heavily.
-Creak.
"Ivy, want to see who I've brought for you?"
"-Cough..."
As Collet said, there was indeed a child there.
A girl suffering from severe coughing and skin necrosis.
The only difference from the boy I'd seen just a day ago was that the fading spark of life was visibly apparent even to the naked eye.
The chiton that supposedly bore the priest's blessing was merely an excuse.
In other words, the role I was to play was that of a holy undertaker.
"Wait."
As I took a step toward Ivy, Judith grabbed my arm.
"Are you sure it's safe? This defies common sense."
Still held by Judith's grip on my arm, I pulled Judith along with me.
If Judith had truly resisted, I never could have dragged her in.
But after a brief moment of holding back, Judith slowly followed.
"It won't infect adults. Really."
"Can I trust that?"
"Does the fact that I'm unharmed answer that?"
"..."
If Collet had cared for the child until the illness reached its severe stage, her words certainly carried credibility.
"..."
The expression on the child lying in bed was not just precarious—it was heartbreaking.
There were no windows visible, but perhaps light filtered through from some path on the surface, as a faint moonlight seeped in, just enough to illuminate the child's bed.
"Ivy, open your eyes. Okay?"
Collet approached the bed and patted the child's shoulder.
She was a child around the early teens, an age when life force should be at its peak.
But the fading spark of life was now so dim it was hardly worthy of being called a flame.
It was regrettable, but it was already too late.
'It won't be long now...'
Memories from my time at the sanatorium [Saint Martin's Garden] told me as much.
The child's life had perhaps an hour left—no, maybe just thirty minutes.
Why was this small child confined to such a dark underground, waiting for her final moments?
"Where are the child's parents? How could she be left alone like this...?"
At my question, Collet shook her head.
"This child has always been alone. Do you know that most orphans from Hazard Island work at Aegis Academy?"
I had occasionally seen unusually young children running errands or serving the lower-year cadets.
But I hadn't thought those scenes were odd.
It was a bad custom, to be sure, but for a military academy attended by nobles, it wasn't particularly unusual—on the mainland, having children work as pages wasn't all that special.
"How did this happen?"
"I don't know. She never talks about it. Ivy, will you tell us now? Look at this person here. The Executor of Isis has come to bless you."
"..."
It was a farce so absurd not even a smile came to my lips.
I was far too inadequate a human to impersonate a saint.
The son of a merchant, neither moral nor self-sacrificing; my observational tendencies that only emerged when necessary, and my pessimistic side, were all too hard to embrace positively.
'Good grief. How did things end up like this?'
Yet despite all those countless 'reasons why not,' here I was.
Standing before a sickly child, pale and bloodless, showing clear signs of death with her dimming, tear-filled eyes.
"Ivy. Will you tell me honestly?"
"It's... scary. The dark... night..."
"It's not scary. You..."
Ivy was already rambling incoherently.
Her heartbeat was slowing, her breaths growing shallower.
The intense agitation before death was far too lonely and cruel for a child to endure at the end of her life.
"...To you, light should be visible now. Have you ever heard the story of [The Blue Star that Watches Over Children]?"
"Saint Martin's eye—"
I dredged up a memory so horrific I'd buried it deep in my subconscious.
The comforts and prayers the priests of the Isis Church offered to patients on the brink of death, all their actions to reassure them—I was now imitating them.
"Yes. The first blue star to rise in the northern sky is the gaze of Saint Martin watching over children."
I pulled the child's hand, buried in the blankets, and clasped it in mine.
It was a frail, bony hand with no strength left to grip back.
"Now, close your eyes."
"It's dark..."
"That's right. Nights are supposed to be dark. That's why Saint Martin decided to become a shooting star and descend upon the eyelids of the bravest children."
As I leaned down toward Ivy, I could see more clearly the fragile child who could no longer even cough.
Wasted away from not eating, yet her face was swollen, and her body oozed with a foul smell.
But none of that mattered.
I knew well how much assurance and promise of peace comforted suffering children.
'[Fear not, I am already waiting]. I can hear His voice even now. Ivy, can you see Martin's blue light now?"
"..."
Ivy's eyelids were slowly closing.
Now, Ivy was receiving my farewell as a false saint, in that ambiguous space between life and death.
"To me... to me, it's visible. The peace and rest that Isis has prepared for you is approaching..."
"Yes... I think... I can see it."
What Ivy saw was the hallucination induced by the narcotic substances her brain released on the verge of death.
But what truly awaited Ivy was indeed peace and rest.
"Ivy, I'll pray for you. Until you meet Isis who has come to greet you. Until then, I am your shepherd and guide."
"...Yes."
"-These are the words of Isis."
I bless your paths ahead.
I hear everything from here in wholeness.
All peace and rest are here, so fear not.
I shall never forget that origin.
"..."
When I recited the final verse of [Isis's Blessing], Ivy let out her last breath, like a sigh.
I placed Ivy's clasped hand back under the blankets.
Ivy had found peace.
"-Thus, we believe You guide wandering souls to peace."
This was all I could do in the face of another's death.
To wish for peace, to believe there would be no pain at its end—that was it.
After gently closing the partially open eyelids, silence filled the narrow room.
"...Thank you. Among all the expressions I've seen on Ivy over the past three months, this is the most serene."
Was it because she'd long foreseen Ivy's death?
Or because her profession dealt with death more than anyone's?
Collet's voice was surprisingly composed.
-Click.
I removed the brooch securing the chiton-like cloth from my shoulder and straightened the flowing silk fabric.
I returned them to Collet.
Collet silently accepted them from me.
"...Collet. Now, shall we have our talk—just the two of us."
"Yes. Please wait a moment..."
Collet checked her pocket watch, announced Ivy's passing, and pulled the blanket up over her head.
"What happens to the child now?"
"Since she died from the plague, she must be cremated. With no family for a funeral, I'll need help from friends too."
"You're not reporting it to the Academy?"
"-Death by illness is like an act of God. For now..."
Why must an innocent child like this die so lonely?
And why does no one take responsibility while this child fades away?
The questions kept piling up.
Moreover, Collet's attitude. This person clearly knew something.
"No—someone must take responsibility. Whether it's me or Aegis Academy."
And from here on, it was a matter of conviction.