Chapter 466: The Last Supper
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 466: The Last Supper
"Mama, I'm home!"
The somewhat dilapidated door was pushed open, and Emily came skipping into the house, her voice ringing out with youthful energy.
The room was dim. Emily fumbled along the cabinet at the side, intending to light a candle, but then she suddenly remembered the Town Mayor Auntie’s instructions from earlier that day—there were to be no open flames under any circumstances. She had no choice but to give up on the idea.
Though she didn't know why there had never been such a requirement in previous years, Emily felt that if the Town Mayor Auntie—who knew everything—had said it, then it certainly couldn't be wrong.
The Goddess must really hate fire. It must have been because of the flames in previous years that we failed to receive Her blessing.
I have to follow the rules properly this year, because Mama’s health is getting worse by the day.
Fortunately, Emily had long since grown used to the dark. To save money, her home wasn't exactly bathed in candlelight every night anyway.
Emily closed the door and carefully fastened all three heavy-duty security chains. Once she was certain the door was locked tight, she lightened her steps, tiptoeing toward the inner room.
She had been too excited just now; she hadn't stopped to think about what she’d do if Mama was already asleep.
"Is that Emily?"
Just then, a gentle voice drifted from the innermost room. Emily’s cautious steps faltered. She playfully stuck out her tongue and scratched her head in embarrassment.
"Did I wake you, Mama?"
"No, I’m not asleep yet. Tonight is the town’s big day; how could I sleep so early?" the person in the room said with a light chuckle.
Emily turned to look. Though it was pitch black outside, the antique wall clock only pointed to around eight o'clock. It wasn't that late.
However, due to being bedridden for so long, her mother’s sleep schedule had always been irregular.
"Then I’ll go brew your medicine!"
Emily started skipping happily again, a sweet smile appearing on her small face, which was rendered ghastly white by cheap face powder.
She headed to the kitchen and deftly placed the day's herbs into the pot. She ladled the right amount of water from the vat and then, with some effort, hoisted the pot onto the stove.
After finishing all this, Emily let out a long sigh and proudly wiped the sweat from her brow.
But just as she was about to continue, she hit a snag.
She couldn't start a fire today. How was she supposed to brew Mama’s medicine?
Not brew it?
That wouldn't do. Mama had to drink her medicine every night before bed, or she would surely be jolted awake by the pain in the middle of the night.
That was exactly why Emily had come back specifically while the festival was at its peak; her mother needed her medicine at a set time every day.
"What do I do? What do I do?"
Emily fell into a state of distress.
But while she was hesitating, a figure appeared at the doorway.
"There’s no need to brew the medicine."
The faint starlight from the window reflected off the woman’s pale face.
"I brewed it ahead of time and already drank it. I won't offend the Goddess."
"Huh? Mama?"
Looking at the figure leaning against the doorframe, Emily’s eyes widened in surprise.
"You can get out of bed?"
"Yes."
The woman smiled.
"Perhaps this batch of medicine was more effective. I feel much better."
The woman stepped out of the shadows and stood before Emily.
Emily looked her up and down and found that her mother really was able to stand and move on her own. At the very least, she didn't need someone to support her just to manage a few steps like she usually did.
Emily grew even happier. She felt that her hard work had paid off. By making the festival as lively as possible, the Goddess’s gaze might truly have fallen upon her dear mother.
"Mama, do you want something to eat? I’ll make it for you!"
After being excited for a long while, Emily suddenly remembered that her mother hadn't seemed to have eaten dinner yet. Emily had originally planned to bring something delicious back from the festival, but now that her mother was up, she couldn't be bothered with that.
She remembered there should still be a little food left in the house.
"No need."
The woman shook her head and dotingly patted Emily’s head.
"Let me do it. I just realized it’s been a long time since I’ve cooked anything for my Emily."
"Eh, but..."
"No 'buts.' Does little Emily not miss her mother’s cooking?"
"I... I want to eat it!"
Emily blinked. In her memory, it really had been a very long time since she had eaten a meal made by her mother.
The taste had long been forgotten; she only vaguely remembered that every time she ate her mother’s food, it made her feel exceptionally safe.
"Bu... But, we can't start a fire today."
Emily remembered this important detail, and her mood sank again.
"It’s fine."
The woman’s smile remained gentle, as if she wouldn't let a small problem like that interfere with the grand task of cooking for her daughter.
"I have a way."
"Really...?"
The last of her doubts vanished, and Emily’s eyes sparkled. "That’s wonderful!"
"Go play for a bit. I’ll call you when it’s ready."
Like any ordinary mother, the woman shooed Emily off to play while she stepped into the pitch-black kitchen.
This inexplicable feeling, something she had never experienced before, left Emily in a daze for a long time.
"I see. Mama is used to the dark too; she doesn't need lamps or fire."
Emily wiped the corners of her eyes. A warm emotion filled her heart, and even the noisy chirping of the insects outside sounded exceptionally pleasant at that moment.
Emily went back to her room. In truth, there wasn't much to play with in this empty space.
She simply sat on the edge of her bed and habitually picked up the family photo—an item extremely precious for an ordinary family—and wiped it carefully.
Scritch—
The sound of metal scraping came from the kitchen. It was her mother sharpening a knife, preparing to make her a long-awaited dinner.
Emily sniffled, her nose feeling a bit prickly. She wiped the photo, and by the dim light from the window, she traced the image of the rugged man who had once been the town’s finest hunter.
"Papa, Mama’s illness is getting better. Can you see? Before long, she’ll be able to take me out to fly kites. She promised me."
Next was her own image in the photo. Unlike her current self, she looked carefree, possessing the innocent naivety of her age.
Finally, there was Mama...
The Mama in the photo was just like the Mama now—so gentle, so kind, and so...
Emily’s small, wiping hand suddenly froze.
She stared blankly at the mother in the photo. The elegant woman wore a smile, looking kind and approachable.
Thud—
A sharp chopping sound echoed from the kitchen, as if a sharp blade was slicing through something.
Emily jumped, nearly dropping the family photo.
But she didn't pay any mind to the noise in the kitchen. Instead, as if struck by lightning, she shoved the photo back into its place.
Her small chest heaved. Even the thick powder couldn't hide the... terror surfacing on her small face.
Thud—
Another loud noise followed, as if the woman had lost her grip on the knife and accidentally let it fall to the floor.
"Ma... Mama?"
Emily finally snapped out of it and called out worriedly.
"Are... Are you okay?"
"Em... Emily."
Her mother’s voice answered.
But it wasn't the gentle voice Emily was familiar with.
The voice was hoarse and low, like the mournful cry of someone drowning, carrying a shivering sense of suffocation.
"Emily, do you... do you remember... remember the thing your Papa... left for you?"
"Eh? What?"
Before Emily could understand what her mother meant, the woman’s voice returned to normal.
"Ah, little Emily, I’m sorry. I accidentally dropped the knife. It seems my body is still a bit stiff after not moving for so long."
"Is... Is that so?"
"Come, come eat. Dinner is ready."
The woman slowly walked out of the kitchen. In one hand, she still held the freshly sharpened kitchen knife; in the other, she carried a battered tray with a square piece of meat on it.
The meat looked delicious. The moment Emily stepped out of her room, her cravings were triggered. Saliva secreted wildly in her mouth, and her stomach let out a loud growl.
"What’s wrong? Aren't you coming over?"
The woman looked strangely at Emily, who was standing there dazed.
"This is your favorite food."
"I... I need to use the bathroom."
Emily looked at the meat—which truly was her favorite—then looked up at her beloved mother and spoke suddenly.
"The bathroom?"
The woman paused, then furrowed her brows in mock annoyance, teasing, "You child, you still haven't changed that habit? Always needing the bathroom right before a meal. Go on, go on. Remember to wash your hands!"
"...Okay."
Hearing that familiar scolding, Emily’s small body trembled, but she turned and headed toward the bathroom—which was in the opposite direction of the kitchen and the front door.
The woman waited quietly, softly humming a beautiful tune. It was the lullaby Emily loved most.
Soon, Emily returned.
She looked up at her mother and said, "Mama, can you give me a hug?"
"Hmm? You silly child. You won't eat your food, and now you're acting up again?"
"No... I just... I just haven't hugged Mama in a long time."
"Of course."
The woman’s gaze softened. She walked over slowly, still clutching the sharp kitchen knife, and naturally opened her arms.
"After the hug, you have to eat properly. If you don't like this, I have a second dish prepared."
"Okay."
Emily nodded gently, and then... she brought out the hands she had been hiding behind her back.
In that moment, what greeted the woman was not a hug, but...
A crossbow.
Twang—
The bolt fired, cutting through the air.
It was an ordinary mechanical crossbow, crafted to be small and compact. It possessed no mana fluctuations and was naturally not a prohibited item; it was merely an heirloom left by a hunter to protect his family.
However, it was still not something a little girl could fully control. Under the force of the powerful recoil, the bolt—which had been aimed true—jerked upward, grazing the top of the woman’s head and thudding into the wall beside her.
The woman staggered and slumped to the floor, her expression instantly becoming vacant.
"Why?"
"Be... Because..."
Emily had also been slammed against the wall by the recoil, and she slid down slowly against the stones.
She clutched the crossbow tightly, her tender voice raspy and trembling.
"My mama is a gentle, kind, and beautiful person.
She has beautiful brown hair and the brightest eyes in town.
She is more beautiful than the fields in spring, and when she smiles, it’s like flowers blooming.
She loves her daughter most of all, and her daughter loves her back.
But...
My mama... doesn't have a bug on her head!"
Through her blurry, tear-filled eyes, Emily saw her mother’s true form.
The brown hair was withered and disheveled. The once-beautiful face was shriveled and pale, the eye sockets sunken, and the eyes no longer bright.
Most importantly, atop her head sat a massive, pitch-black insect the size of a fist. Its hideous mandibles were plunged deep into her skull, joyfully sucking out the woman’s brain marrow.
As if Emily had unintentionally broken through the cognitive misdirection, the insect let out an angry hiss, its grotesque legs rubbing and twitching.
The woman began to convulse and writhe violently. She scrambled up from the floor with a series of bizarre movements, her limbs twitching frantically as if they each had a mind of their own. Like a wild beast, she looked ready to pounce on her beloved daughter at any moment.
But the woman’s movements suddenly stopped.
One side of her face was twisted into a mask of hideous, monstrous rage. The other side was wet with tears, her smile soft and gentle.
"Emily... you did well."
The woman spoke tenderly.
"Now... aim at me."