Chapter Seven: Little Trials and Decisions
Books, literature…
Oh right! Back in the Land of Dragons, that woman did mention something. She has a cellar in Meiser Town where she hides all sorts of so-called “truths and histories” of this world…
I couldn’t help but glance back.
Behind me, the door of the mud house was still wide open. Inside, the space wasn’t large—besides a narrow white bed, a rickety table and chair, and a wardrobe, there was only about ten square meters left.
Through the dim light, I could vaguely see the spot I just came from: the rectangular entrance leading down underground, a rolled-up carpet lying to the side, and the wooden cover was not completely shut, revealing a section of stone steps, cracked and broken.
So this is the cellar she was talking about…
Then, that bookshelf I saw inside, those old, dusty tomes… they must be what she referred to…
“Hey, when’s that woman coming back?” I asked the mayor.
“Uh… well, I’m not really sure… but I think it should be within a day or two…”
Elder Robert’s answer was vague, and it was clear he didn’t have a clue about when she would return.
Hmm…
I bit my nails, thinking to myself.
A day or two…
No problem, I can wait for her.
Just the perfect time to check out the books in the cellar—though they belonged to the Gate of Truth, and in my past impressions, they were mostly filled with twisted nonsense, completely untrustworthy.
But now…
Now things are different…
The Gate of Truth…
Sure, they were a bunch of wicked lunatics, but perhaps… I should understand what they know, a few things…
I should learn why they did what they did, understand the fundamental reasons behind how things evolved into this, get to know the heretics’ intentions… instead of just blindly believing the church’s side of the story like I did before.
I lifted my head, scanning the increasing number of figures in front of me.
These people…
Are the residents of this town.
From their attire, they seem like ordinary folks living in a desert town, but upon closer look, excluding the women and children, the men standing nearby—rigid and robust—clearly had strong bodies and impressive physical strength.
These people are no ordinary town folk, absolutely not.
But if I wanted to leave, I doubt anyone could stop me—provided I regained my strength.
Just a smidge would do.
As long as I can recover, leaving wouldn’t be an issue.
And from what I can see, despite their vigilance, I doubt they harbor much malice towards me.
There might be deeper reasons behind it, but at least, until that heretic leader named Ailna gets back, they won’t do anything too out of line—though if I tried to run, their attitude might shift immediately.
I can’t take that gamble right now.
…But I can test their bottom line first.
“Mayor.”
“Yes, Young Lady.”
“What about my scythe?”
Hmm, I wonder if Captain Gray is still around… whether that woman brought him with her is still uncertain. Let’s ask and see… If they’re willing to hand Captain Gray over to me, I might trust them a bit more.
Not holding my breath, mainly checking their attitude.
“…Scythe?”
However, Elder Robert didn’t understand what I was saying: “What scythe?”
“It’s, uh, a sickle,” I repeated, word by word, “my weapon.”
But the old mayor looked even more confused.
“…Sickle? Oh, a sickle! But, we haven’t seen any sickles around here…”
He rubbed his hands, looking so flustered that he didn’t seem like he was faking it.
“Uh, sorry, uh… Do you need a new kn*fe? We do have those in town… Sometimes those starving sand bandits come here, trying to steal women and food, so we keep knives around … I can have someone bring one to you?”
He waved to someone behind him to fetch it.
I stared at him for a moment, and only when Elder Robert turned back did I softly say, “Forget it…”
Captain Gray is either hidden by greedy townsfolk or already lost—of which I lean towards the latter.
So, disappointment washed over me.
I lost you again…
Suddenly, I had no desire to talk to anyone. I let out a sigh and asked the mayor one last question: “You are the Gate of Truth, right?”
“The Gate of Truth?” Elder Robert blinked, quickly shaking his head. “No, we’re not. We’re just… residents here.”
“Hmm.”
Since they deny it, we’ll leave it at that.
Digging deeper is not my priority at the moment.
I puffed out my cheeks, putting on a high-and-mighty front as I waved my hand at the old mayor: “Just, as you say, I’ll wait for her.”
Once I finished, I ignored the crowd and turned back towards the mud house. When I reached the door, I paused to throw in, “And, get me some food.”
Then I stepped inside the room.
I heard several people behind me let out a breath of relief.
“Y-yea, no problem…”
Bang!
The wooden door closed.
I walked to the center of the mud house, not rushing into the cellar, instead surveying the surroundings… The place was very simple, much like many impoverished rural dwellings: a bed, a wooden cabinet, a table, three chairs, a muddy stove, a rusting, long-unused pot, and a basket with a hole in the corner, dirty dishes scattered on the counter.
The walls were cracked and peeling, mud falling haphazardly onto the floor, clearly left unattended for a long time.
Is this the woman’s home?
I guessed it could be.
At least, it must be her hometown…
I couldn’t help but recall that cold, breathtaking face.
That woman must have emerged after the explosion from a fissure, somehow evading the church’s eyes, taking me away from Silgaya, and sailing to this remote little town, hiding me in the cellar while I was in a deep slumber.
She must have had her own agenda for doing this.
Maybe she wanted something from me, or perhaps… she aimed to use my body, my strength, to achieve her own goals.
What a woman wants, I’m not entirely sure, nor can I guess at the moment.
But regardless…
This time, she saved me, I guess.
Otherwise, if I had woken up by myself, I might have ended up in a clinic…
No wait.
The church wouldn’t let me become aware of any clinic’s existence.
I might have suddenly woken up in some safe place, just like three years ago, forgetting certain things, forgetting who did what to me, forgetting everything that happened in the Land of Dragons—even Angel’s treacherous face would fade from my memory…
I would forget all my awful memories…
Then, like a carefree fool, I’d continue my life.
I would keep trusting Angel and the church, remain the revered Pope Knight, adored by the masses as a hero while I dutifully fulfilled some false mission, fighting for the people, for those who loved me, exhausting myself to become an important tool for Angel to achieve some goal or to be an experimental subject.
If that woman hadn’t escaped with me…
Then things would likely have turned out this way.
Thinking about this made my emotions complicated beyond words.
