Chapter 55: Gift of Life Return

"Phew, today's work was truly back-breaking." In the Wall District, within the East End—a labyrinth of crowded, dilapidated shanties—Henry trudged homeward, swaying under the weight of a small sack of potatoes.

He had risen at dawn to toil as a laborer at the mines outside the city walls, working until the afternoon. At last, he had secured the wages for this month’s food and expenses.

Though the mine foreman had skimmed off a third of his pay, the man’s weathered face broke into a toothy grin as he hefted the heavy sack and listened to the jingle of five silver coins in his left pocket.

"I'll take Vanessa out for a treat today; I earned an extra silver coin this month." He rubbed his aching shoulder. He had pushed himself harder than ever, and that extra coin was the reward.

Because of the war, prices in the Royal City had soared. Once, he could afford to take his daughter out for a decent meal and his wife to the theater once a month, but since the conflict began, prices had doubled, making even basic sustenance a struggle, let alone the luxury of leisure.

Fortunately, the mine owner was unexpectedly kind, raising the workers' wages by nearly half. By gritting his teeth, they could scrape by. His wife, too, worked harder, scrubbing laundry for others until her hands were raw and peeling—a sight that always tore at his heart.

He had worked from dawn till dusk this month to earn that extra silver. He planned to set aside half for a small family outing and save the rest for a rainy day.

His spirits lifted. A month of hardship had borne fruit. His arm, used for digging, felt pushed to its limit; he couldn't work this hard next month, or the limb would fail him entirely.

"Boom, boom, boom!" A sound from behind caught Henry’s attention. The dusty man turned to see a column of imperial soldiers sprinting through the street.

"What now?" Henry grumbled, tugging at his hair. He held no love for the arrogant city guards. They never considered the plight of the commoners in the Wall District; if a peasant blocked their path, they were kicked aside—or worse, run through with a blade.

The war had turned the city into a powder keg, and the Wall District was the most volatile corner of all. Murder, robbery, and brawls occurred every moment, drawing the guards here constantly.

"Sigh, I hope these brutes don't tear my house apart." Henry was a man at the very bottom of the social ladder, burdened by the weight of a wife and child. At forty, he looked fifty, his youth eroded by the relentless pressure of survival.

Sometimes he envied the men who only had to feed themselves, spending their coin on cheap ale, but the thought of his wife’s gentle touch and his daughter’s pure smile made him despise such selfish thoughts.

Last time the guards searched for fugitives, they had smashed through homes without warning. Those who resisted were kicked or stabbed. Across the street, a poor old man had been struck down with a sword hilt just for trying to protect his cat.

Henry sighed again, the shadow of dread dimming his mood. He regretted coming to the Royal City; it was a fine place, but not for people like them.

He pulled himself together, stopping before a crumbling but tidy stone cottage. He smoothed his expression, forcing a smile; he didn't want his wife, Sani, to see his sorrow.

He unlocked the door, frowning as the sound of passing soldiers echoed through the street again. Something big was happening. A sense of unease gnawed at him. He decided to bring his daughter home early from night school.

"Creak." The old wooden door groaned. The house was dim, the sunlight blocked by the towering city walls.

"Sani, I'm home! Guess what surprise I brought?" Henry called out, shaking his clothes so the silver coins in his pocket clinked.

"Dear, what are you so happy about?" his wife’s voice drifted from the kitchen, accompanied by the rhythmic thud of a cleaver.

"Just listen!" Henry dropped the sack and collapsed into a chair, his body spent.

"Sorry, dear, I can't hear you well. Tell me directly," she replied, the chopping never ceasing.

"You’re in a joking mood today, eh? I earned an extra silver! You can see the play at the Night Lilies tomorrow night, and I’ll take Vanessa for pastries." He laughed, touched by her uncharacteristic playfulness.

"Oh, that sounds lovely. I haven't seen the Black Prince and the Ghost Princess in ages. Vanessa would love pastries, too. But once I finish here, we won't need those things anymore, hmm~" Her voice was gentle, yet the chopping continued.

"Yes, but Sani, what are you cutting? And what are you making?" Henry felt a prickle of unease. Usually, she would have come to greet him with a hug.

"Oh, dear, I'm cutting meat. I'm also performing the Life Ritual of our church. Once it's done, we won't have to worry about those annoying things anymore, hee hee hee~" Her tone was sweet, yet laced with a chilling, uncanny quality.

"Meat? Where would we get meat?" He knew she had joined a church called the 'Source of Life,' but he hadn't minded—until now. He felt a sudden, inexplicable anxiety.

He wanted to check the kitchen, but his exhaustion held him fast to the chair.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?~" Her voice turned coy, a strange inflection that sent a dark, irrational thought spiraling through his mind.

Sani was beautiful, and many in the district had coveted her. He had beaten them all off. A sudden, poisonous suspicion took root: was she selling herself to earn this meat?

The thought, once planted, blossomed into a blind, white-hot rage. He didn't know why he believed it, but the fury surged, accelerating his pulse.

"I work myself to the bone, and you do this, you bitch?!" Henry roared. Driven by rage, he vaulted from his chair, fists clenched, and stormed toward the kitchen.

He burst in, ready to strike—and froze. The boiling blood in his veins turned to ice. His breath hitched, his eyes bulging, bloodshot and wide.

The scene before him shattered his sanity. It was a hellscape beyond human comprehension.

"What’s wrong, dear? Won't you join me?~" The voice came from the kitchen counter.

"No, no, Sani, is that you? This isn't you! What is this? Monster!" Henry screamed.

On the counter lay a mound of human pulp. Only Sani’s head and one arm remained intact, the limb fused to her skull like wet clay. The hand was rhythmically chopping the meat.

"Wait, dear, don't be impatient. I'm almost done offering my blood sacrifice to the Lord. Then you can help me offer the rest, and our little Vanessa, too." The head moved its lips, the hand tossing a chunk of gore into a pot.

"Sani, those… those are!?" Henry’s mind went blank, the horror too vast to process.

"Yes, that’s me, hahahaha~" The head let out a manic giggle.

"How did you become this!?" he shrieked, his confusion warring with his terror.

"Because I saw the true meaning of life! Praise my Lord, the Source of Life, Erfin!" As she chanted, the pot began to tremble.

Inside, the meat and bone fragments were writhing like a slime mold, twisting and pulsing. A sickening, beautiful stench filled the air. A mouth sprouted from the mass—it looked just like his wife’s.

He saw an eye, woven from intestines and liver, staring at him. It was the Lord’s gaze. He felt a sudden, ecstatic clarity. He, too, must return to Him.

Henry smiled, picked up the cleaver, and stepped toward his wife’s remains. "Clack!"

……

"Mom, Dad, Vanessa’s home!" A crisp voice rang out from the doorway.

No answer. Vanessa, a lean girl with wheat-colored skin, tilted her head in confusion. She fished a rusted key from under a wooden post.

"Creak." She pushed the door open. "Mom? Dad?"

She saw the sack of potatoes. "Potatoes! We won't go hungry!" She cheered, but her joy faded into worry. Where were they?

"Vanessa… come…" Her mother’s voice drifted from the kitchen.

"Mom! You’re here!" Vanessa turned, then let out a blood-curdling scream.

A mass of gore, a shapeless, reeking horror, stood before her. A mouth formed on the mass. "Vanessa, my darling, help Mommy complete the Life Ritual!"

"No! You’re not my mother! Monster!" The girl scrambled back.

"Vanessa, how can you say that to your mother!" A harsh voice boomed from the kitchen. Another mangled, pulsating figure emerged, identical to the first.

"No, Dad! Stay away!" She turned to flee.

"How can you leave your mother, you bad child!" The meat-monster lashed out, its limb elongating with unnatural speed.

"Whoosh!" In a flash of light, a card streaked through the open door, glowing with a blinding, solar radiance.

It sliced through the air, severing the monster’s reaching limb, the golden flames reducing the gore to ash.

As the second monster lunged, a heavy shield slammed into it, sending the creature flying into the wall with a sickening crash of splintering wood and bone.

"Are you alright..." came a gentle inquiry, and as Vanessa opened her eyes, she found herself cradled in the arms of a knight clad in light armor. This handsome warrior, with his shoulder-length, brilliant golden hair, held her protectively with one arm while his other hand hoisted a shield high, having just sent the monster reeling; in her dazed state, he seemed for all the world like a god descended from the heavens.

"Leave the rest to me..." Moving Vanessa behind him, Edward Walling raised his heavy shield, drew the longsword at his waist, and fixed his gaze upon the two monsters as they slowly regained their footing.

"And me!" came a voice from the side that always seemed to invite a punch, as Charles, sporting a magician's top hat, darted out from behind, a handful of playing cards gripped in his hand.

(Damn it, Edward really stole the spotlight this time.)