Chapter 126: Change
As the first light of dawn broke on the horizon, rain began to fall once more in Arethine.
The large-scale battle near the high walls in the northern part of the city was nearing its end. The rampant flames and thick smoke that had been raging were gradually extinguished and dispersed by the heavy downpour. The dark brown blood staining the ground was washed away and diluted, and the strong stench of blood diminished. Many of the bodies of men and horned horses were temporarily piled up at the foot of the walls, to be taken out of the city and burned later.
The canal to the north remained blood-red, and there were still small pockets of resistance from heretics near the foothills on the edge of the mountains, as well as within the city. The occasional clash of swords could be heard where people gathered, but soon after, silence would descend again. The knights wiped the blood off their swords, conversing in low voices as they slowly went about handling the bodies of the dead heretics nearby.
Some of these were the bodies of comrades.
That night, many men, women, children, elderly, kind people, evil people, honest people, cunning people, those who had never left the city in their lives…
People of all sorts died.
The great battle had largely ceased by the time the sun rose, but various matters had not shown any signs of abating.
The residents of the city, those who had not fled to the south or east, and the nobles who had taken refuge in underground bunkers, after the initial celebrations and excitement of surviving the ordeal subsided, many of the living began to gather in the north. Most came to search for their loved ones, some who had gotten separated during the escape, and others who had climbed up the walls; the latter were mostly long gone.
The knightly order set up a temporary camp in an open square in the north of the city. Soon, it was surrounded by all sorts of activities.
“… We have achieved a preliminary victory in this great battle. I know you are all tired, and I am too. However, His Holiness has just issued an order for us to organize a city-wide search to root out the remaining heretics who have gone into hiding and conduct a thorough cleansing here.”
Inside the white tents, lamps flickered on the tables. Bald Isaac was holding a meeting with over a dozen captains, despite them all having gone without sleep the night before. These warriors, each commanding over a hundred men, had rallied their spirits.
“It will take us some time to tally the number of heretics who have died here, but from the current situation, it’s clear that many have escaped… At least three thousand people have made it from outside the city to inside. Those who have fled far away, we don’t have the energy to deal with them now. But those who remain hidden within the city must be found and eliminated one by one.”
“The nobles in the city will help by organizing manpower to cooperate with you. Starting from the first squad to the fifth squad, you’ll need to meet them shortly, convey the orders properly…”
Not long after the orders from His Holiness were given, the first knightly order’s fighters, even with their blood-stained bodies, began to move again. From a distant watchtower, Pope Angel sat haphazardly in a chair, his disheveled head managing various matters for the faith groups below him. He instructed the accompanying nuns and the Republic’s supply transport teams to prepare for post-battle rescue and relief work.
I sat beside him, nodding off slightly.
After everyone else had left, leaving only two bishops behind, Angel spoke about the most pressing issue at hand.
“… We couldn’t identify the leader of the enemy, that… Mr. J, the Joker. Yes, he’s a madman who doesn’t play by the rules. I believe you’re all aware of the threat he poses. But as the battle progressed, we were surprised to discover that the one leading Truth’s Gate on this side is a former papal knight who rebelled against the Church many years ago, now serving as their sixth senator, while the Joker hasn’t appeared at all throughout.”
“Little Black Charcoal… Oh, that’s Miss Sylvieja. She heard the other party say the Joker isn’t even here when the sixth senator was dying… How likely do you think it is that this statement is true?”
“Very likely.” A familiar young bishop said solemnly.
Angel clapped his hands upon hearing this. “Exactly. Given the Joker’s modus operandi, if he’s managed to stay out of sight until now, it’s highly probable he’s already gone. And if he’s not here, then what we’re looking for certainly isn’t here either. That madman might have used all the heretics he brought over as bait to lure us in…”
His Holiness paused after speaking.
“But we can’t rule out another possibility. It’s possible the Joker hasn’t left at all, but is hiding in a place we don’t know about, deliberately losing this war to further some other… plan.”
“We can’t assume the madman’s actions follow normal logic, but no matter what, a plan that requires such a huge sacrifice from him, personally executed, will undoubtedly be… very bad for us and the people of West Continent.”
The conversation ended in a half-awake state. For the Holy Church, the immediate priority was still to handle the myriad affairs in the city, negotiate with the nobles, tally the casualties, and discuss more critical issues like food supplies.
Of course, I had little involvement in these matters.
“Little Black Charcoal, go rest for a while.”
After the discussion ended, Angel scratched his head and said to me, I gently shook my head.
“No.”
After resting for a bit in the chair, I felt a slight recovery in my spirits. I planned to eat something first, then find Isaac and join the search team he was arranging. As I had heard drowsily before, it was not certain that the Joker had truly left this place. If he still had the possibility of being around here, or even in this city… it wasn’t impossible, and I needed to confirm it personally before I could feel at ease.
But before that…
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll go check on the wounded soldiers first.”
…………
Barry removed his slightly deformed armor and changed into rough hemp clothing.
The burns on his arm had been cleaned and bandaged.
He lay on the makeshift bed made of straw mats, still feeling a burning pain.
The battle fought by the young knight had temporarily come to an end. Lying in the noisy infirmary filled with wounded soldiers, he watched the nuns coming and going, unfamiliar yet reliable knights. Occasionally, he would be momentarily convinced that he was still dreaming, unable to believe that victory had come so suddenly and smoothly, just as he had imagined.
The woman named Lilith did not leave him; she sat on the ground beside him, her chin resting in her hand, her head slightly lowered as if lost in thought.
After washing her face hastily, her well-maintained skin and pretty face were displayed once again before Barry, despite her fatigue, still captivating.
“Lilith… I mean, Lilith.”
Barry’s voice was hoarse as he softly called out to her.
She lifted her head to look at him.
“You…” Barry stared into her clear eyes, for some reason suddenly becoming nervous, “You shouldn’t go looking for your mother? She must be very worried about you…”
Lilith shook her head slightly at his words: “I just told the Knights’ Order. If the war ends successfully and those demons are driven away, Mother will definitely come over here with others. I’ll wait for her here.”
Her voice was soft and gentle, perhaps still unable to shake off the nightmare from last night. Her expression was somewhat absent-minded, her gaze distant, appearing preoccupied. The clothes she wore were dirty and tattered, her hair damp, making her look particularly pitiable.
“Barry, does your injury still hurt? Why don’t you rest for a while…”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
Barry lied.
The more he lied, the more nervous he became, his cheeks flushing slightly: “Lilith, you haven’t rested properly for a long time. You should sleep, you…”
Halfway through, he realized there was no place for many lightly injured knights to lie down, let alone a place for Lilith to rest. Unless she lay next to him, but saying that would make him feel even more inappropriate, so he stumbled.
“It’s fine, I’m not sleepy.”
Fortunately, Lilith didn’t mind his awkwardness; perhaps she wasn’t even focused on it. After saying she wasn’t sleepy, she turned her gaze to look outside the tent.
Outside the tent entrance, there was a commotion of footsteps and voices.
It seemed someone had arrived; many knights looked over, including Barry who followed the sound. He saw people gathered around the tent entrance, knights and priests alike, all craning their necks, looking towards something. Just as he was puzzled, the crowd parted voluntarily, leaving a path wide enough for two people. Then everyone stood straight, their right fists pressed against their chests, performing the standard church salute.
Following this, under countless pairs of eyes, a young girl wrapped in a cloak and dressed in a black dress walked in, taking small steps.
“Hylvia…”
“It’s Lady Hylvia…”
“I heard she defeated the leader of the heretics…”
In the midst of the noisy discussions, Barry suddenly tensed up, half-sitting up from the straw mat.
It’s Hylvia…
She has come.
The girl had already changed into a new dress, washed herself slightly, removing the scent of blood. Her black hair was simply tied at the back, revealing a delicate, doll-like face.
This was the face Barry had been thinking about day and night for a year.
That face quickly overlapped with the charming country girl he remembered.
And then, it immediately separated.
The young knight sat amidst the disarray of straw mats, his hands resting by his sides, mouth slightly open, his expression rigid, as if he were straining every muscle. He turned his head to watch the girl walk toward him, his heart pounding as if it might leap out of his chest.
The girl did not walk quickly.
A year had passed.
She hadn’t grown taller, nor did she seem to have matured. Small limbs, a tiny body, a petite face, with eyes as beautiful as stars. In this year, Hylvia hadn’t changed much; everything remained as it was when they first met. Her short legs flitted about, attracting everyone’s attention wherever she went.
She was still herself.
However, Barry stared blankly at her figure, unable to reconcile the current Hylvia with the one from the past.
It seemed that something had quietly changed within him, at some point he couldn’t see or sense, during the time they were apart.
But what exactly had changed…
Barry was somewhat dazed as he thought. Soon after, in his line of sight, the girl stopped in front of him.
She pursed her lips, looking down at him.
Barry saw several resolute, powerful golden-armored knights behind the girl. These knights stood silently, heads bowed, some looking at him with interest.
At this moment, next to him, Lilith quickly stood up.
This noblewoman, a real power in Alerthian City, the daughter of the city lord, had always been surrounded by great figures in Barry’s eyes. Yet now, standing upright, her hands resting on her lower abdomen, she seemed almost too shy to meet the eyes of Barry’s younger sister, who was significantly smaller than her.
Besides Lilith, Barry also noticed many other knights standing up, even those who were seriously injured.
The young knight looked at the people standing up in the tent, and suddenly, he understood.
So it was like this.
This beautiful girl, though still his Hylvia, was no longer the little girl who ran around the village all day a year ago, the simple and obedient child.
Some of the youthful traits had quietly faded from this seventeen-year-old girl. Standing before him now was Hylvia, who had single-handedly slain the abyss, struck fear into countless villains, the…
Knight of the Pope.
