Chapter 147: The Kind-hearted Ones Are Sometimes Evil (Part 1)
The moonlight was hazy, casting a gentle glow.
In the bustling central square of the town, people jostled for space, the candles glittering like stars, and the noise was a lively cacophony. Street performers wrapped up their final rehearsals, and as the curtain before the stage was drawn aside, anticipation buzzed in the air, with celebratory bonfires blazing on the platforms surrounding them.
In stark contrast to this lively scene, on a dirt path behind a row of stone houses in the east, a girl in a white dress walked next to a woman similarly dressed in white, with just the right amount of distance between them—not too close, not too far.
The girl quickly munched on some sweet pastries, her starry eyes flashing with vigilance as she stared at the woman. Once she swallowed her bite, she whispered with an impatient tone, “So, who exactly are you, from the Gate of Truth?”
“……”
The woman remained silent.
“An envoy… or an executor?”
“……”
“What’s your purpose here, exactly?”
“……”
“Come on, speak!”
The girl frowned slightly, looking somewhat annoyed but not entirely mad.
She took another bite of her pastry, slowly chewing, crumbs lingering at the corners of her mouth. Glancing back at the woman next to her, seeing no intention of answering, her seemingly innocent eyes narrowed a touch. The emotions underlying her gaze veered more towards pure hostility, or perhaps a bit of murderous intent.
Of course, it wouldn’t do to make a move here…
The girl understood this point well, and so the hostility and murderous intent that emanated so blatantly wouldn’t appear as fierce; she was exercising restraint.
But the woman’s continued silence was genuinely infuriating.
So the girl slowed her pace.
“You said you wanted to see me. Here I am, and now you’re pretending to be mute… Is this how it is with the Gate of Truth? Totally incomprehensible, impossible to communicate?”
Like a self-centered bunch that acts solely on whims, ridiculously arrogant and utterly lacking in boundaries.
This woman was no exception, it seemed…
With a gentle rub of her hand on her skirt, she retrieved another pastry from her paper bag: “Who exactly are you? If you don’t answer now… well, fine. I’m busy too.”
Busy preparing to take you all down…
“Crunch…”
I walked slowly while nibbling on the pastry.
The sweet pastry had gone cold, its texture far from the initial crispness it had when fresh.
Moments later, the woman matched my pace, lifting her head: “Does it matter who I am?”
She said.
Ah…
That tone again.
That detached, almost Victorian-like demeanor, making it seem like everyone owed her gold coins just heightened my annoyance. As I swallowed the pastry, I countered, “Doesn’t it matter?”
“It doesn’t.”
She walked slightly faster than me, her back turned, showing no signs of defense, merely shaking her head lightly: “Knowing my identity won’t change the fact that we’re enemies, will it?”
“……”
True enough.
Who she was and her standing within the Gate of Truth wouldn’t alter the fact that we were adversaries, nor would it change her alliance with lunatics… despite the fact that the woman before me didn’t really look like a madwoman.
What was she thinking…
What did she want…
“Crunch, crunch…”
I munched on my pastry, brow furrowed, watching the woman’s graceful silhouette when suddenly, a thought hit me.
If I were to seize this chance and launch a sneak attack with all my might… could I possibly end this before she even reacted?
…Unlikely.
“Crunch, crunch…”
I knew the powers of the Gate of Truth all too well. The fact that this woman dared to linger in Stag Town, remaining unruffled even when sensing surveillance, and continued her performance unbothered… discarding any unpredictable variables thrown by the jester, at the very least, she was confident in her abilities… presumably surging with the power of “Infernal Fire” at the “bl**d sacrifice” stage.
With such power, how could I silently and swiftly eliminate her without harming innocents…?
What about sending her to the stars?
“Put away your little schemes.”
Huh? Did she notice?
I pouted, retracting my outstretched hand and popping a piece of the pastry into my mouth, not speaking.
Just a little test, this woman was really alert… She didn’t seem as defenseless as she appeared…
“If we fight here, everyone in this town will be affected.”
“Ha.”
I was a bit taken aback that such words came from someone of the Gate of Truth. How absurd, I couldn’t help but snicker.
“Besides, you aren’t my match.”
“…So confident, are we?”
I shrugged, brushing it off.
“This isn’t confidence.”
The woman paused, suddenly turning around.
Her movement was ethereal, graceful, as if she could float away. With the breeze, her clothes danced elegantly. Just that simple turn, an innocent little gesture, was enough to leave one at a loss for words. The essence of a dancer seemed etched into her very bones—who could have imagined that a woman with such talent, standing on stage, could create such great waves.
I blinked slightly, my footsteps halting as well.
“Miss Silvya, I know the Church is observing me closely. Once they realize I’m from the Gate of Truth, they must have already begun their covert investigations… You’ll soon know who I am; they will tell you, but that’s not particularly important.”
“You…”
d*mn.
For a brief moment, I was utterly lost when she turned around…
“As a Pope Knight, a hero among humans… Ha. You only need to know one thing: the Lady Teresa, who battled you in the Royal City, is my sister.”
“……”
!
Thud.
Half a piece of pastry fell from my hand.
My eyes widened in shock.
“Surprised?”
Under the dim moonlight, I saw the corners of the woman’s mouth seem to curl…
That looked like a smile.
But perhaps it couldn’t really be called a smile.
Or rather, she was merely attempting to show me the notion of “smiling.”
Because that expression hardly qualified as a smile…
It was as if a patient with severely paralyzed facial muscles looked ridiculously beautiful, yet her thin lips appeared to have been manipulated, forcibly pulled into a curve. Her eyes bore no mirth, the expression was stiff, and that strange smile lasted but an instant, quickly vanishing.
“Actually, calling it a sister is merely in name only… You don’t need to waste time here; Lady Teresa and I do not share bl**d ties. However, we have some overlapping ideas and views… I refer to her as my sister, that’s all. We haven’t seen each other for years.”
“……”
I opened my mouth.
I wanted to ask her why Teresa would join the Gate of Truth.
But then I thought twice; asking a heretic such a question would surely yield only distorted answers even if she chose to respond.
But what she said just now…
They have some ideas in common…
“Later on, I received news that she had passed away.”
Miss Meiser looked at me with a calm gaze, her bright moonlit eyes harboring neither sadness nor anger.
“Of course, there’s a natural sense of loss and reluctance… perhaps some anger too, but I won’t blame you. Miss Silvya, you only did what you believed was right and just. To you, we are merely unforgivable villains, brazen enemies.”
“…Aren’t we?”
“Yes,” the woman replied softly, “but who isn’t?”
She lifted her head, gazing at the two crescent moons veiled in clouds high in the night sky. A bright light spilled forth from behind the clouds, spreading across the town’s land and houses, illuminating the bustling central square to the west, creating a slight haze.
“Miss Silvya, suppose one day in the future, you find that the justice you firmly believe in has rotten to its core, emitting a stench that makes one nauseous… You discover that all the suffering in this world stems from a selfish, foolish, arrogant, and ignorant error…”
“Teresa said similar things.” I interrupted, “I don’t know what turned you into this way. This obsession, this madness, sacrificing completely unrelated people, innocents… and you care nothing for it.”
I paused.
“I, quite frankly, don’t care about your reasoning for doing so. You’re just a bunch of… line-crossing rabble-rousers. Whether it’s the jester, Teresa, or you— I suppose you’re all… cut from the same cloth.”
I took a deep breath: “I have no interest in understanding you people. I will just k*ll you.”
With that, there was a moment of silence.
“…Very well.”
The woman relented.
Perhaps she had something she intended to explain to me or some points to convey, but those were the views of a heretic. After I made such a statement, Miss Meiser abandoned her previous intentions. She gracefully turned, stepping through the mud, the white cuffs of her pants unblemished, and continued her stroll toward the center square to the west.
“I know you, Miss Silvya.”
She no longer called me “miss.”
This time, I detected emotion in her words.
“Born into a royal family, with a father shielding you from the storms, you grew up in a honeypot, yet you didn’t turn into a fragile flower like most pampered girls. Slaying the Abyss, saving the Royal City, hailed as the youngest hero in history, you chose a difficult path that you shouldn’t have followed; that’s impressive… I used to think so.”
“I don’t wish to hear a heretic’s praise,” I said, coldly regarding her retreating figure.
“But now it seems you are just a little girl. Indulging in your grand superhero fantasies, playing a harmless game of trying to save everyone, desperately striving to become… a kind-hearted hero, haha.”
“A mere good person, someone who treats others well, how can they really accomplish something monumental? I must have overestimated you, Silvya; you are indeed a brave, kind little girl with a fierce sense of justice and extraordinary talents. Alone, you slew the Abyss, saving countless lives, revered as a hero… but that’s all there is to it…”
