Ch.183Report on the Downfall of Charity (25)

Francesco was quick to resign himself to fate. Even as the evil spirits pulled at his legs, he succumbed to resignation rather than fear.

‘Fine. Take me.’

Giving up resistance, Francesco went limp and waited for what would happen. But nothing did. Despite taking no action, the shadows couldn’t do anything to him.

‘Really, is this all just a dream?’

It felt too warm to be a dream, and the scent was too pleasant. Bewildered, Francesco looked around once more.

Bella was clutching his arm and crying. Her gaze was fixed on a corner of the ceiling, and she occasionally muttered words like “no,” “I don’t want to,” and “monster.”

‘Bella.’

An arrogant, willful girl. Sometimes obedient, sometimes doing whatever she pleased—a troublemaker he couldn’t send away despite claiming she had no talent.

The girl who had boldly presented him with a letter full of adolescent emotions that would embarrass any reader, claiming it was a confession—a girl like a rose in a glass bottle.

All those memories and emotions came rushing back. Like slightly parting a drawn curtain, they helped him regain his senses somewhat.

‘I need to pull myself together.’

Whatever happened, he needed to protect Bella. He was the master of the workshop, and Bella was his apprentice. What shame would it be if a master couldn’t protect his disciple?

For that reason, though he was afraid to even look, Francesco faced the evil spirit directly. He saw the thorns protruding from its right hand. They looked just like rose thorns.

But drops of water—or what looked like blood—were dripping from the right hand. Francesco couldn’t understand this at all. Why was this evil spirit harming itself?

Fire and smoke continuously rose from the evil spirit’s mouth, seemingly trying to suppress the hero’s momentum with its roars.

The hero wasn’t giving in either. Though fallen to the floor, he was desperately muttering something. Francesco couldn’t make out what it was.

Francesco thought it might be a prayer. Or perhaps it was a warrior’s spell to resist the evil spirit’s curse.

‘That evil spirit, why does it look familiar?’

It was still frightening, but not as terrifying as the shadows pulling at his feet. More precisely, it was the kind of presence he was reluctant to look at for too long.

A vague sense of danger, a somehow gloomy impression, and yet an expressionless face whose thoughts were completely unreadable.

A familiar impression.

“Angelo…?”

A name that suddenly came to mind.

“Angelo, is that you?”

But his voice was too faint, disappearing amid the surrounding screams.

“What’s happening? Why have you become an evil spirit? Why are you trying to subdue the Children of Light…?”

Francesco couldn’t understand it. How could Angelo be wearing the High Council’s signet ring and trying to suppress the Children of Light?

No, more importantly, why had Angelo returned at all?

In an instant, all the pieces came together in Francesco’s mind. The reason was the same as why he had suddenly left.

The Duce was truly the Demon King, and Angelo had already been his underling back then, and he had killed Beatrice and disappeared.

And now he understood that Angelo had returned to destroy Venelucia once again.

“Traitor…!”

Consumed by rage, he staggered to his feet.

* * * * *

Even the Asas that deceived the senses couldn’t mask the vivid pain. The tightly gripped rose thorns bloomed with pain, and each time, Kain could grasp reality.

When something unidentifiable suddenly lunged from the side, it was thanks to this pain that he managed to step back, if only slightly.

His mind was hazy and the boundaries of reason were blurred, but the experience ingrained in his body through harsh training and experience couldn’t be erased so easily. He hadn’t let himself go that far yet.

But he was slow and dull. He couldn’t avoid it completely. The object struck Kain at an angle.

Time slowed down.

Kain saw the staff craftsman who had inserted himself between him and Leonardo. Leonardo had his hands positioned beneath Francesco’s body as if to catch him.

A single cry of pain. Francesco was pushed to the other side. He crouched down and fell to his knees. Then he stared blankly at the dagger embedded in his stomach.

“Oh. This.”

He seemed unable to believe it himself. Kain’s and Francesco’s eyes met.

“Angel…”

The handsome man collapsed forward with a thud and convulsed. His limbs trembled like a punctured water bag. Blood seeping from the dagger quickly soaked his clothes.

“Aaaaaaah!”

Bella screamed. Leonardo, suddenly coming to his senses, spat out a curse. After appearing to think for a moment, he slapped her cheek and then tucked her under his arm as he ran for the exit.

The door burst open with a bang. Hot wind rushed into the room—the seasonal wind of Venelucia. The poisonous air in the room rapidly dissipated.

“Francesco!”

The knife was embedded too deeply to pull out. Kain tore down a Venelucian flag hanging on the wall. It would serve as a bandage. Francesco trembled violently as if about to shatter.

“I, I… Angelo.”

“Shut up.”

But Francesco shook his head vigorously.

“Did you kill her?”

“I said shut up!”

“N-no, right? It wasn’t you, was it? Tell me it wasn’t…”

Francesco tried hard to smile. Kain roughly wrapped the wound. Francesco cried out in pain and then fainted.

People rushed in from outside. Kain tensed briefly, but fortunately, they were Venelucian guards. He frantically gestured to them. A guard who noticed the signet ring on his hand quickly nodded. Kain shouted.

“Get everyone outside! The room is full of poison! Where did Leonardo of Charity go?”

“He’s running toward the streets!”

“The Warrior of Charity, Leonardo, has committed treason!”

The Duce, sprawled on the floor, shouted. The guard stood still for a moment in disbelief, but the Duce commanded again.

“Guards, protect Venelucia! Arrest Leonardo and his accomplices, and kill them all if they resist! Protect the citizens and put out the fires. Move, now!”

Even that was an effort, and the Duce collapsed. But he mouthed something to Kain, who understood. He got up and ran outside.

“Which way did Leonardo go?”

“That way, sir!”

The guard pointed the direction. Fortunately, his faithful horse was still lingering nearby. Kain mounted it.

* * * * *

The streets were utterly devastating.

Though the poison of the Asas had largely dissipated, its aftermath remained. After the madness passed, what remained was blood and violence.

Leonardo’s subordinates were desperately retreating. While one group blocked people’s approach, another secured an escape route and established defensive lines. Their movements were both organic and organized.

If the Asas had been sufficient, Leonardo would truly have taken Venelucia.

But now everything had gone awry.

The guards, mercenaries, and civilian militia facing them were also Venelucian people. They knew well that what Leonardo’s subordinates wanted was to lure pursuers into narrow alleys to wear them down.

They formed a large outer encirclement and gradually tightened it from the outside. The path to the docks was the first priority, important roads were the second. Residential and commercial districts were third, and up to this point, they could retreat smoothly.

The fourth was the problem.

“You cannot enter!”

A guard blocked Kain’s path. His excited horse reared up on its front legs, but Kain stroked its neck to calm it. He showed the High Council’s signet ring, but the guard captain remained stubborn.

“I don’t know where you’re from, but it’s dangerous ahead. It’s full of Leonardo of Charity and his subordinates!”

“I know. The old town. Narrow, winding alleys with houses packed so tightly that a person could climb up by crawling.”

The guard captain nodded at Kain’s words. At the same time, he noticed that Kain was clutching rose thorn vines and that thick blood had congealed on them. But there was no time to ask questions.

“Are you certain that Leonardo of Charity escaped this way?”

“As far as we know, yes.”

“With a young girl?”

“That’s correct.”

Kain dismounted. He placed the reins in the captain’s hands.

“It’s a good horse. Please take care of it.”

“I told you not to go in…!”

But Kain ignored him. Gripping his cutlass and staff, he hurried forward. While the guards were busy constructing barriers, they exclaimed in surprise as Kain rushed into the alley.

The walls were high, the alleys dark and complex, and fences appeared in unexpected places.

But Kain knew this place. This was where he had fled with Beatrice two years ago. The place he couldn’t bring himself to enter when he returned, only lingering at the entrance before turning back.

The old town.

He jumped over walls and crawled under fences with the same familiarity as that night two years ago. Everything was the same.

What had changed was the situation. Back then, Kain had been pursued by Leonardo’s subordinates.

‘There’s a secret passage in the old town alleys.’

It was a secret known only to a select few nobles. Venelucia, a city-state trapped on an island, had always been threatened by external enemies.

That’s why the nobles had created various escape routes, one of which was the secret passage in the old town. It was said that if you went down the stairs through a secret cave, you would reach a small beach that led to the sea.

“Aaaaargh!”

A group of mercenaries charged at him. Kain leaped over a wall. Running and running, he entered a narrow alley that could barely fit one person.

It was such a narrow path between houses that there was nowhere to hide. Attackers and defenders had to fight on perfectly equal terms.

And the cutlass couldn’t be swung freely in such a confined space.

“You persistent bastard, following us all the way here!”

He seemed to be one of the men who had fled with Leonardo. The man brought his cutlass down from above.

Kain defended with his staff and struck the man’s shoulder with the cutlass in his right hand. The well-balanced, heavy blade pinned down his opponent.

Stepping on the back of the fallen mercenary, he leaped forward. This time, he first extended his cutlass to divert attention, then jabbed the staff at the throat. As the mercenary lost balance with a choke, Kain thrust his blade. The mercenary fell to his knees with the blade embedded in his abdomen.

The sun shone brilliantly above the alley. Kain tilted his blade to reflect the sunlight. The mercenaries, caught by this unexpected attack, hastily closed their eyes.

It was a clear mistake, and they quickly opened their eyes again, but by then they had already been mercilessly cut down by Kain’s cutlass.

Everyone had fallen. Kain was about to leave the alley when he quickly pressed himself against the wall. A group of mercenaries was running along the intersection. After waiting for them to pass, Kain attached himself to the rear of their group.

And then he began again.