episode_0025
by fnovelpiaDo you know what happens when a bullet penetrates a person’s flesh?
Of course, there are cases where this is not the case, but usually, there are entrances and exits in the human body. So, just as if there is an entrance to a building, there is also a separate exit from that building, and the path that the bullet takes is also created in that way.
Entrance and exit. If it occurs in the lungs, the person will die from not being able to breathe. If it occurs in the head, the person will die with fragments of brain, flesh, and broken skull scattered around. If it occurs in the heart, the person will die instantly from shock or will survive for a while before dying.
In the end, you die. No matter how hard you try to survive, if you get shot in a critical area, you will eventually die. This applies to both the great wizard and the sword master.
Of course, they would block the bullets with defensive magic or cut them with their swords before they even reach them. However, most people who are forced into battle do not have such monstrous abilities.
Yes, you die. Luckily, unless you are saved by a capable priest who is always waiting nearby, it is difficult to expect a lucky chance of survival.
However, for those who died with only gunshot wounds, at least the body remains, so this can be seen as a small blessing for the bereaved family.
You, who haven’t even received that small blessing.
How nice it would be if you were like that too.
Instead of having my entire body torn to pieces beyond recognition by a high-explosive bomb exploding right behind me.
Instead of the bones being crushed, the internal organs bursting out, and blood spraying everywhere.
Rather than dying so meaninglessly, without even a single scream or a single will.
I wish I had been shot dead. If only there had been a body left behind.
How nice it would be if that were the case.
I remember the massive funerals held for veterans by the royal family.
I remember the bereaved families shedding tears like the gloomy weather that day as they bid farewell to their loved ones in coffins.
I remember the widow who lost her husband, crying out to the Lord, asking why He took her away so soon, why He gave her this ordeal, and sobbing until she fainted.
Even at the moment when the coffins containing everyone’s bodies were buried, I saw you standing alone with only one tombstone erected.
I remember.
When death approaches, humans cry out for God’s name most desperately.
It doesn’t matter which god it is. You can ask for the grace of the Lord, you can rely on the native religion of the barbarians, you can desire a heretical god, and even the name of the devil is often mentioned.
I didn’t ask for anyone’s name, because I knew full well that there was no one who could help me out of my hellish state.
However, I did not curse God. I knew very well what a stupid idea that was.
Instead of cursing the gods, we should blame the heads of government of the countries that decided to go to war.
We should not blame the head of government, but the cause of the war.
And if you have time to blame someone, it’s right to throw away such useless thoughts and think about how you yourself can survive.
I faithfully put it into action, and in the end, I survived like this.
Well then, you.
Why didn’t I survive?
…Helena.
* * * * *
“Uww… ! Woofww… !”
I held onto the toilet and kept vomiting. I threw up all the black tea I had just drunk, and now only bitter stomach acid was burning my poor esophagus and rising up.
“Tsk! What the hell… .”
I spat out some thin saliva and flushed the toilet. I watched the water mixed with vomit swirl down the toilet.
Why am I here?
Apparently, I was talking to Father Peter there, and then… .
Then, Father Camilla to me.
Do you know the name Helena?
“Ugh… !”
My shoulders shook involuntarily from the unbearable nausea. I grabbed the toilet again.
I’ve definitely thrown everything out, but why do I still feel sick?
Because of memories of the battlefield? Because of the rotting flesh of corpses coming to mind?
Or is it because of this strange, bloody smell that has been numbing my nose for a while now?
If it were normal, I wouldn’t have even bothered to look at it. No, I would have tried to ignore it.
If only the smell of blood wasn’t Helena’s.
It feels soft to the touch. It feels like you are holding a pile of dirt with your hand. When I feel that texture, a trench naturally comes to mind.
That hellish trench where dirt rain poured down due to the relentless bombardment.
I closed my eyes tightly and flailed around like crazy. This isn’t real. I’ve already shaken it off. So please.
“Stop, stop… .”
Please stop.
“… … .”
So, how much time has passed?
I felt like I had lost all sense of time. I had no idea how much time had passed since I had rushed into the bathroom while we were having a conversation. I took out my watch and looked at it.
I tried to ignore the occasional twitching in my arm and checked the time. The hour and minute hands were pointing to the exact ten o’clock in the morning.
I slowly opened my eyes. I saw the bathroom in the main hall of the Academy, which I had seen a few times.
The ringing in my ears also subsided, and the trembling throughout my body gradually subsided. I slowly lowered the toilet lid and collapsed on it.
“Hoo… .”
I took a handkerchief out of my bosom and wiped my forehead. A cold sweat came out that made the handkerchief blush. I wiped away the sweat running down the back of my neck, went outside, turned on the cold water in the sink, washed my face, and then left the bathroom.
Unlike most enclosed bathrooms, my lungs were filled with overwhelmingly fresh air. I felt much better.
“You’re finally out.”
I turned to where the sound came from. Next to the entrance to the bathroom, Father Camilla was standing with his back against the wall.
“Camilla Priest.”
I just realized that my voice was quite dry and cracked. It seemed like my throat had been slightly damaged from vomiting up stomach acid.
Priest Camilla also seemed quite flustered upon hearing my voice. Her eyes wavered for a moment, unable to find her way, and then she turned her head away.
“Rinse your mouth. Your voice is not good.”
“… … .”
I rinsed my mouth as she said and came out. Father Camilla was still waiting for me in front of the bathroom.
“Father Antonelli.”
I looked at Priest Camilla. Priest Camilla’s hazy gray-white eyes were focused on me.
“Yes, Father Camilla.”
“Don’t we have something to talk about?”
Priest Camilla said with a smile. Her expression was sharp by nature, so to me it just looked like she was smiling fiercely.
I looked away from her and answered.
“What are you talking about?”
“… If you pretend not to know like this, it will be difficult.”
“Father Camilla, please be polite.”
Priest Camilla’s words and actions were subtly aggressive. I couldn’t help but furrow my brows.
Father Camilla looked at me silently for a moment, then bowed his head and said.
“I’m sorry. I usually speak like that.”
“I understand.”
“But, it doesn’t seem like usual these days.”
Priest Camilla strode toward me briskly. She walked with a provocative gait, as if she didn’t know the proper distance between people, and soon stopped when she was only half a step away from me.
“Priest Antonelli. You’re taller than I thought.”
“Camilla Priest. What are you doing now?”
“I’m sorry. I have a question.”
She, who already had a sharp impression, began to look at me with even sharper eyes. I looked into her eyes indifferently.
“Pastor Antonelli. Do you know Father Helena?”
When I heard that name again, my head started to feel a little dizzy. I suppressed my pounding head and looked at her.
Could it be that Priest Camilla was acquainted with Helena?
Even aside from the fact that we were acquaintances, no matter how much I thought about it, there was no reason for him to be so rude and aggressive toward me. I answered in a still indifferent tone.
“… Yes. I know.”
“As expected… . Then, the conversation will be quicker.”
“How did you know that I knew Helena?”
“ Earlier, Father Peter asked you whether you participated in the war, and you gave an answer that anyone would think you did. And as the successor to Father Helena, you also took on the position of the parish priest of the Academy and a professor of theology. I asked just in case, and you were right.”
Priest Camilla’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at me. Priest Camilla opened his mouth.
“Pastor Antonelli, were you there when Father Helena passed away?”
“… Yes. There was.”
“Then, tell me honestly. Why did Priest Helena die?”
“Died. Unfortunately.”
“That’s not what I’m asking, Father Antonelli.”
I noticed that Priest Camilla’s fist was clenched. I looked into her eyes.
And then, the moment her mouth opens.
“Why on earth, when Father Helena was dying right before his eyes, didn’t Father Antonelli do anything?”
So, the moment you hear that nonsense.
In my head, something… snapped.
It ended up being cut off.
bang-!
* * * * *
Priest Camilla looked up at the man standing before her. Those blunt eyes, she really didn’t like them from the moment she first saw them.
‘I asked just in case, and it was true… .’
It was a bit shocking that he knew the priest Helena. No matter how small the world is, could there be another chance encounter like this?
While he was at it, Father Camilla decided to ask a deeper question.
“Pastor Antonelli, were you there when Father Helena passed away?”
Those eyes, like dead fish, wavered for a moment.
Priest Camilla didn’t miss it.
“… Yes. Unfortunately.”
Anger boiled inside Priest Camilla. When she heard that Priest Helena had been killed, she felt as if her world was falling apart.
But, on the subject of being present at that place, and being a priest at that.
“Why on earth, when Father Helena was dying right before his eyes, didn’t Father Antonelli do anything?”
Did you leave her to die?
And, right after saying those words.
The eyes of the chief priest Antonelli changed. There was an emotion in his eyes that she had never seen before in him.
Something boiling like fire engulfs the pupils. The hottest flame engulfs the pupils that are usually as dry as the desert.
It was clearly anger. No, it was more than anger, it was a ferocity. Tendons stood out on Father Antonelli’s hands.
Thud… .
However, when Priest Camilla noticed it.
Whoosh—.
‘…uh?’
bang-!
It was already too late.
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