Ch.186Report on the Downfall of Charity (Complete)

“Hero.”

What was it all about? What is a hero? What is a warrior? Kain felt only deep sorrow.

“You ate the Asas fruit raw?”

He remembered his conversation with Giuseppe Conlone.

“Then it’s meaningless. It’s just a sweet-tasting fruit. Only when refined through special methods does it surpass the medicinal effects of the Asas herb.”

“But that’s very precious. Only the highest priests of the Stone-Fire Faith taste it once every five years.”

“Eating fruit doesn’t make one a hero.”

Kain couldn’t even guess where it had all gone wrong. The innocent children who believed they could become heroes by eating fruit.

And the adults who believed those innocent children’s words at face value, then dumped troublesome tasks on them, and finally killed them out of jealousy and envy.

The beginning of another massive folly.

Kain threw away his cane. He didn’t even pick up his sword. He carefully lifted the fallen Bella. The frail sleeping girl whimpered as she went limp in Kain’s arms.

As he left the narrow alley where his former lover had died, Kain made a vow.

He would stop it.

He would prevent it.

He swore twice, three times, repeating it to himself.

That he would find a way somehow. That he would not allow the same thing to happen again.

* * * * *

A few days later. On a bench at the inner harbor of Venelucia.

Mr. Vito was sitting alone, leisurely. He looked gaunt but otherwise fine.

Greeting Kain, he brazenly extended his right hand for a handshake.

“You’re quite something. You too.”

Kain looked down at his right hand wrapped in bandages.

The thorns had embedded so deeply that infection was a concern. Fortunately, Venelucia’s best doctor had treated it rather roughly while clicking his tongue, preventing any serious issues.

By sheer luck, no tendons were severed and sensation remained intact. The doctor had kindly advised that if he wanted to harm himself, he should just hit his hand with a hammer.

“My hands are a bit busy, so please understand. Instead…”

Kain extended what he had brought in his left hand. It was a thoroughly disinfected signet ring of the Venelucia Stonemasons Guild. Vito tilted his head curiously.

“Why not just keep it? It would make a nice memento, and it could help with your promotion.”

“It’s a bit large for my finger.”

Vito chuckled and took the ring. The two sat side by side on the bench.

The inner harbor was terrible, but it was improving. Countless ships had been sent from nearby allied cities. The work of salvaging sunken vessels was in full swing.

When divers secured ropes tightly around the wrecks, ships with fully unfurled sails would depart with vigor. Even galley ships that could still move were mobilized.

“It’s fortunate the docking facilities weren’t damaged. It will take time, but the wounds aren’t irreparable. Except for the outer harbor warehouse you blew up, of course.”

Vito was still mischievous. Kain smiled back at him.

“Perhaps I should have just left you and gone.”

The Stonemasons Guild Master burst into laughter. Without Kain, his daughter would not have survived. Similarly, Venelucia’s fate would have been different. But he couldn’t publicly acknowledge that he had borrowed Kain’s hand.

Who would believe that an Imperial agent had saved Venelucia? Especially if he had also saved his daughter? Everyone would laugh at such a ridiculous claim.

Kain had quietly returned the ring, and Vito had neither arrested him nor sent him to the stake. Vito decided to remember him only as a man named “Iago” and “Angelo.”

That was all.

“Leonardo’s organization was completely destroyed, so there wasn’t much to learn. But I gathered some useful things.”

Not all of his subordinates had received the “baptism.” Lower-ranking members and recent recruits were exceptions. And the documents and secret correspondence Leonardo had left behind remained intact.

Leonardo had been dreaming of rebellion. The documents were filled with plans to occupy Venelucia and rule this land with his own power.

“We don’t even know who Leonardo’s parents were. All that remains is that he came from the lowest of the low, that his caretaker was a retired pirate with a severed leg, and that he continued to live in Venelucia.

He hated Venelucia, but he also wanted to conquer it. So he used every means to climb up step by step. Like climbing stairs.”

Returning triumphantly successful to a world that had dismissed him. It’s the kind of story any boy might dream of. But Leonardo’s story was far too long.

Even after success, a person must continue living. Until the life after success consumes everything that came before.

There wasn’t much else to the story. Just that he had corresponded with heroes of the Empire and that mysterious cargo had been transported without any quarantine procedures.

The ship of fools had burned, and almost all the prisoners had died, but they had heard various testimonies from the survivors, Vito said. He added that it would take quite a while, as most of them were addicted to Asas.

“Of course, what you want to hear about is Arius of Temperance, right?”

“Yes.”

“Leonardo was indeed the one who invited him here. But he didn’t show up at the location. According to the records of Revenge, he was in the Empire at that time. Instead, an unexpected figure met with Arius.”

“Who?”

“Father Prolo, the Venelucia diocesan administrator.”

Kain knew that name. He was the one who had denounced Giuseppe Conlone. Kain had tried to find him, but he had already disappeared.

Perhaps he was the only person who could testify about the relationship between Asas and the Order.

“But he returned to the Vatican, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“And he probably won’t come out from there.”

“I suppose not?”

Vito smiled. Kain frowned.

“Are you teasing me?”

“No. I just thought you might be capable of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whether you believe it or not, Venelucia also has an organization ‘similar to the one you belong to.’ Trained agents who carry out very covert operations.

Of course, you might scoff at this, having come and gone here as you pleased, but that doesn’t mean they’re completely ineffective. Bringing a priest, not even a bishop, from the Vatican wouldn’t be difficult.

Gift-wrapping wouldn’t be hard, but the question is the delivery address. Where would be good?”

Kain gave him an address. A commercial building in the Imperial capital. Vito chuckled. Kain teasingly asked:

“What? Don’t you have that level of capability?”

“No, I just think we should charge a high fee for this.”

“There should be a nice old man there. Charge him.”

Director Verneith would probably want to kill him, but what could he do? Kain decided not to worry about it. Master Vito stood up. Their business was now concluded.

“By the way, there seems to be an additional fee, but it would be nice if you could do one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Bella was asking about you. She said she’d like to see you once, so please stop by.”

Kain’s face hardened. Bella was in the hospital, not because of her own injuries, but to nurse Francesco, who had been stabbed in the stomach.

“What? Is that difficult?”

“…No. Not really.”

Kain also stood up.

* * * * *

Like the inner harbor, the streets were full of destruction. But there was vitality. The people of Venelucia were sweating as they cleaned up, singing songs, rebuilding collapsed walls, restoring stalls, and displaying merchandise.

Flowers bloomed throughout the streets. People carefully trimmed flowers that had been uprooted by ruthless kicks, arranged them in vases, or dried them well and hung them around the streets. Wild roses were the most common.

The Venelucia hospital was also busy, but Francesco was easy to find. He was surrounded by numerous women. Although Bella stubbornly glared at them, even as the daughter of the Stonemasons Guild, she was no match for the mature women.

As Kain approached, the women stepped back.

“I see why you asked me to come.”

“Don’t be discouraged. You’re not bad-looking either, mister. It’s just that those noble ladies have very high standards.”

“Right. Thank you very much.”

Bella pouted but gave Kain a tight hug. She reached out to touch his right hand but quickly withdrew it with an “oops.” The bandage around her delicate neck looked pitiful.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It does.”

“And yet you gripped the thorn tightly?”

“It was worth it.”

“Hmm.”

Bella smiled with the self-assurance of a precocious child. She seemed to be trying to imitate the suggestive expressions of the women. But realizing it wasn’t working, she shrugged.

“My brother has been wanting to see you.”

“…Not true…”

Francesco groaned, but Bella pretended not to hear.

“My brother is a bit shy, so please understand that. He hides his true feelings even when he likes something. Like a child, such a liar.”

Bella pouted and stepped aside. As soon as she left the room, she seemed to be driving away the women gathered at the door, judging by her sudden shriek.

Kain and Francesco sat in silence.

“So. Ahem. Are you feeling better?”

“I feel like I’m dying.”

“But you didn’t die.”

Francesco grimaced at Kain’s words.

“Bella is trying to kill me. My head is killing me.”

“She seemed like a brave girl.”

“That’s what I’m saying. She’s a child.”

“She’s not that much of a child.”

Francesco looked at Kain accusingly, then waved his hand saying, “Fine.” Kain was secretly grateful to him. If he hadn’t thrown himself in the way, it would have been Kain’s stomach pierced by Leonardo’s knife.

But at the same time, he felt conflicted. He hadn’t answered Francesco’s question. The question of whether he had really killed Beatrice.

‘The truth was terrible.’

The fallen hero’s cry echoed in his ears.

“Francesco, actually…”

“Angelo. Thank you.”

Kain looked at Francesco with puzzled eyes. He seemed somehow unlike himself. Though he was smiling, he appeared to be in pain, unrelated to his stomach wound.

“Thank you.”

Francesco struggled to extend his hand. Kain was about to offer his left hand but extended his bandaged right hand instead. It stung and hurt, but it was worth it.

“Thank you, Francesco.”

“Yeah.”

“Take care.”

“Take care, Angelo. Be careful.”

Kain stood up.

Before leaving the room, he turned around. He saw Francesco looking up at the ceiling, sobbing. Kain quietly closed the door. Bella was waiting outside.

“He says it’s a gift.”

It was a cane. A metal cane. The light and handy one he had used when dealing with Antonello’s subordinates.

“He says it’s scratched and has no commercial value? But it seems to have found a good owner. It’s expensive, so use it well.”

“Thank you.”

“And dress up a bit, mister,” Bella looked utterly serious. “And if you have a woman you like, write her a letter. It works well, you know.”

“I will.”

* * * * *

The hospital was near the rose garden, close to the abandoned Dandolo residence. But that place too was busy with people. Without anyone ordering them to, people were repairing, cleaning, and renovating the Dandolo mansion.

The garden was the same. They were pulling out dead branches, repairing fences, and spreading fresh soil. The people planting rose vines looked happy.

‘Leonardo assassinated Niccolo Dandolo, and now he tried to kill the Doge as well, and even plotted rebellion. He was also responsible for spreading smoke throughout the city, and your shock, terror, and hallucinations were due to the shock of the inner harbor being attacked.’

The Doge and the Supreme Council publicly circulated such facts. People accepted them, thinking that it made sense.

Some people talked about monsters and flying ships, but since these were impossible things by common sense, everyone assumed they were just sailors’ superstitions that had taken concrete form.

After all, rumors about flying ships were already widespread.

And now was not the time to discuss rumors. People were busy mourning the dead and injured, and rebuilding collapsed streets.

Venelucia was healing itself.

* * * * *

Kain stopped in front of a flower shop. There wasn’t a single intact flower anywhere. Not just the flowers, but the vases were also a problem. They were all broken.

But that wasn’t the only reason he stopped. The shop owner seemed to be skilled with his hands, as he had carefully decorated each vase with ornaments and paintings.

“A mess, isn’t it?”

A young woman with scissors smiled. Her pleasantly tanned face was bright.

“It’s pretty.”

“Be honest.”

“When else would such a mess look so beautiful if not at a time like this?”

“I’m sorry to say, but it really is a mess. The worst.”

The woman giggled. Kain felt awkward and lowered his head. The woman spread her arms wide.

“What can we do? Winds blow this way and that. Take one you like.”

“A pot would be a bit difficult. I’m going on a long journey. By ship. So, just one rose. Ah, there.”

Kain stopped the woman who had already picked up a rose. She opened her eyes wide. Kain pointed to the scissors.

“You can leave the thorns as they are.”

“Won’t it hurt?”

“A rose needs its thorns.”

“Hmm.” The woman raised the corner of her mouth. “I like that. You’re not completely hopeless.”

The woman was skilled with her hands. She wrapped the rose in a decent cloth package.

Kain walked to the harbor. Along the way, he encountered countless people carrying flowers. He didn’t know how meaningful it was. He didn’t ask if it meant anything to those who had lost family and friends.

A flower is just a flower. It simply stands there silently. It just blooms fully, waiting to be recognized.

Just as people do with other people.

He boarded the ship. It was a passenger ship heading to the Empire. Thanks to Vito’s arrangements, he didn’t have to sneak aboard.

The harbor was also full of flowers. It was a way to remember the wounds. It was also their own expression of not hiding or burying what happened as something common.

The sails swelled with the seasonal wind. The wind called “embrace” nestled into Kain’s chest. It was warm and peaceful.

The sea where Beatrice slept was calm. Kain placed the rose he had brought on the water. It was a large, red, and magnificently splendid rose.

Though trampled and broken, it was still beautiful. It seemed to sink but then rose to the surface. Its languid swaying seemed like a final greeting.

– Goodbye, my love. Goodbye.

“Goodbye.”

Kain replied.

The sun was already setting. The dying sun reached out to the dead rose. They were leaving together, hand in hand, to the garden of light where flowers never wither.

Once again, a wind mixed with the scent of roses embraced him.

Kain closed his eyes.