Chapter 186 - 186. The Miracle That Shouldn't Happen (1)

Eventually the rain did not stop.

Melancholy dark clouds, the damp smell of rain.

The sound of a bell that had been ringing softly in the city reached my ears through the sound of rain, announcing that a young star had fallen.

Without avoiding the puddle on the floor, I stepped on it and walked forward.

Soon I entered a small church where the bells were ringing.

The air became more solemn.

There was no light there, so candles were lit in low places.

Jetto was visible at the end of the hall.

Jetto was lying comfortably in a wooden box that was redder than blood.

After today, the coffin containing the dead will be firmly closed. So, this was the last moment I could see Jeto.

I looked at Zeppetti and Ray, both dressed in black, standing by the coffin.

"Eisel sister..."

Have you accepted this harsh reality?

Zeppetti was no longer crying.

Ray averts my gaze.

It was too harsh for her at her young age.

"..."

After bowing my head lightly to express my condolences to them, I faced Jeto.

Jetto, who was lying on a stylish jet-black coat, was wearing an academy uniform.

The white bandage that always accompanied Zeto was held in his right hand and placed on his chest along with the sword.

Except for the fact that his left arm was nowhere to be seen, Zeto, who had his eyes tightly closed, appeared unscathed to the naked eye.

It seemed as if he would stand up and talk to me at any moment.

But... I knew better than anyone that such miracles did not happen.

Unknowingly, the hand that was holding the coffin tightened.

This sight was also the second time.

Searched and found

Wandering and wandering again.

He wandered the world with only one thought to save Zeto.

Couldn't find it.

The miracle didn't happen.

There was no way to revive the dead whose life had already gone out.

At that time, I gave up.

I chose a more convenient way.

It was the first time he had chosen to return on his own without even facing the danger of death.

Turned back time

For the poor me alone.

Everything that people have built has been voided.

Being selfish, I tricked myself into thinking it was for Zeto.

Otherwise, you cannot move forward.

I thought I couldn't save Zeto.

The result is this.

Jetto died again.

It made him suffer again.

How sick was Jetto?

How painful it must have been for me to have chosen my own death even though he had saved me.

He gently stroked his hair.

The cold on his forehead, behind his hair, could be felt through the black gloves.

It was cold.

His pain was being conveyed.

I'm sorry, Jeto.

I couldn't possibly save you.

Because I'm an incompetent regressor.

For making me go through this twice.

I'm really sorry.

There are no miracles.

Both for him and for me.

The return could never be called a miracle.

Happiness that had been seized again came as greater misfortune, and joy came as greater sorrow.

This is a curse engraved in my soul.

Yes.

Regression has always been a curse to me.

He thought of several ways to save Zeto, but it was meaningless any more.

From the moment my worthless life was saved by Zeto...

...It was decided.

My destiny

"..."

I decided to accept that fate.

Lest his sacrifice be in vain and reduced to dust.

Let it not be a meaningless death.

No matter how servile and miserable the front is, I will survive like a tenacity until the end.

So...

"...Rest in peace, Jeto."

I leaned over and kissed Zeto's forehead.

Then he turned his back.

"...You're here early."

Kaen was seen.

They had come to mourn Jeto's death.

He made numerous connections in his short life. Many people will come after that.

Previously, I couldn't wait for him to end, and I spurred out of the cathedral.

I ran away, saying there might be a way to save him.

It was different now.

There is no reason or meaning to do so.

"Zetto is waiting for you."

After that, I lowered my head lightly to Kaen and moved on.

I sat in a long chair on one side of the cathedral.

Then he looked at Jeto endlessly.

I was waiting for his end.

Then, a requiem in honor of Jeto gently lingers in your ears.

Sad tune.

The melody contained despair.

***

I looked down at Jeto.

His serene face was the same as it had been in the mortuary, except that now he lay in his coffin, breathing and as well-dressed as he had been when he was still alive.

At first, I was simply angry.

I thought I would be able to reach it now, but I felt resentful that I had missed it.

It was unfair.

It's natural that people die someday, but I couldn't understand why it had to be Zeto.

I tried to vent the resentment that had pierced my heart with anger.

However, after hearing Kaliman's story, I changed my mind. I almost did something stupid.

He wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come.

It's been a long time since my eyes dried up right away.

I took out the ring on my ring finger.

Immediately, the ring went to the ring finger of Jetto's right hand, who was holding a white bandage.

"If it was my left hand... It would have been better..."

Apparently, it was not allowed to me even after his death.

"I'll be sure to remember that, Jeto."

I laughed like an idiot.

It wasn't smoke this time.

***

The bell rings out.

It was announcing that the young star had lost.

Jetto's funeral was held in a small church near the academy.

There were quite a lot of processions going on at the funeral. This is because there were quite a few people who had built a kite with Jeto.

"The blind saint..."

"At a young age..."

"It's a nightmare..."

The mournful voices of the residents of Innocence Academy in the procession can be heard.

A man listening to this asks the woman who was wearing a black dress.

"Chief, what does a blind saint mean...?"

"That's what the dead guy was called this time. He seems to have done good deeds around the city."

The identity of the woman who answered was Blanc, the southern branch manager of the continent's best information guild, 'Black Hand'.

Blanc came simply to stay by Aisel's side, but she had no choice but to bring a guild member to replace her due to the guild leader's order to collect information.

The guild member Blanc brought was a man named 'Hakam', who was called 'the bird of the morning'.

Hakam, the bird of the morning.

For reference, he is a rival of fate with one of the same guild members, 'Night Mouse'.

As Hakam inspected Zeto's funeral, he was deeply doubtful.

It was the funeral of an academy cadet from a commoner who had no special connection and last name.

I know very well that many people have gathered because they have good personalities, but the quality of the information to be collected here is good.

It was the branch manager's order, so he followed it, but Hakam, who had recently been losing performance to the Night Rat, was feeling a little dissatisfied.

'Let's just say sorry and go.'

Even though he had the unusual nickname of a blind saint, he moved his steps by collecting and spraying birds flying low in the flowing rain that seemed to have no information to dig out.

When entering the cathedral, Blanc opens his mouth.

"I have some business to see..."

"Yes, branch manager."

"...Should I be alert?"

"..."

What else do you need to say like that?

Hakam glanced at Blanc while thinking about that.

Soon, as he fully entered the cathedral, he knew why.

'That's...'

The first thing that caught Hakam's eyes was a red-haired man.

It was Hakam, who had organized a postal system using birds that only the black hand's top-ranking guests could use, so you could tell just by looking at the back of his head.

'Gerath Clementine...?'

The identity of the man was Gerath Clementine, the head of the Clementine family of the Continental Four Elements family.

'Why is Prince Clementine at a cadet's funeral?'

Hakam, who was about to ask Blanc a question belatedly, looked around, but Blanc had long since disappeared in the crowd.

'Because the branch manager is always like this...'

Hakam, who thought there was nothing he could do about it, went to the corner of the funeral home and went to work while hiding himself.

'Is there a daughter next to him?'

Braided red hair.

Xerath's daughter, Yuri Clementine, seemed certain.

Hakam inspects Xerath and Yuri standing in front of Zeto's coffin. He soon listens to gather information.

His nickname of morning bird is a nickname that can be attached simply because he handles birds, but it was also because he has exceptionally bright ears.

Birds listen to daytime words, and mice listen to nighttime words.

Hakam, who poured mana into his ears, amplified his long-term hearing.

Suddenly, Yuri's voice is heard.

"You said you'd come back..."

"..."

"Come back... Please..."

"Glass..."

It was a painful cry that left bitterness in Hakam's mouth as he overheard it.

'As expected, a place is a place, so I can't help but feel this complicated... But work is work...'

Hakam thought so and sorted out the information.

The cadet named Jeto, who died this time, had a close relationship with Yuri Clementine.

It could be that Xerath came simply to comfort her daughter, but this is not entirely accurate.

It is because the position of the head of a family has a great meaning.

'That being said, could Cadet Zeto have a direct relationship with Xerath? Even though she has excellent skills, there is no reason why the prosecutor has a relationship with the Clementine family...'

That's when Hakam was questioned.

Yuri places an ice cube in the coffin and turns away. Soon, only Xerath remained in front of Zeto, staring down at him.

Then, Xerath whispered softly in Hakam's ears.

"...I thought I would have a son-in-law."

'Son-in-law...?'

"You're the worst son-in-law. How dare you make my daughter cry..."

In Xerath's voice as he continued to speak, instead of anger, he felt dejected.

"Next time, don't fall so fleetingly... Make your woman happier."

"..."

"May the blessings of the phoenix dwell..."

After that, Xerath turned his back.

Hakam's mouth fell open as he found out some great information.

'Isn't Yuri Clementine definitely connected to the first prince of the Kingdom of Terrasia...?'

Of course, it was known that it was close to pressure from power, but it was the first information I learned that Xerath was trying to make Zeto his son-in-law.

After Yuri and Xerath, an unknown old man appeared.

It was a face that was not particularly in the information, but Hakam's ears were open, so his voice could be heard.

"...What is it, are you sad too?"

The old man said that while looking not at Jeto's face in the coffin, but at his feet.

"It's strange. Don't you hate this guy...? Huh, really... What kind of magic did he use... Now that he has no life force to consume, you will be freed in a few days."

Hearing this, Hakam couldn't understand the old man's words and thought, 'He's just a madman...' And passed it over lightly.

Following the crazy old man, another shabby-looking old man approaches.

But this time, the face was familiar.

The old man's face, visible under his tattered robes, was a face Hakam knew well.

No, he was an unforgettable figure for himself.

Hakam remembered the previous time he had met him.

He grabbed the bird that was about to fly away and approached the 'tower' and said, 'I want to write a letter to Julius Klaus.' The old man asked casually.

Hakam, who did not know why, felt threatened for his life at the time.

An old man who suddenly sat cross-legged in front of Jeto's coffin opens his mouth.

"...I'm sure you didn't ask me to come find you until I die of old age. But what if you die first..."

Hakam, overhearing the trivial conversation between the dead and the old man, was stunned.

This is because the identity of the old man is none other than Chris, the best swordsman on the continent.

'I heard you had a friendship with the swordsman...?'

Chris took a sip of the bottle of alcohol he took out of his bosom and left after saying something like, 'Sorry... Sorry...'.

Hakam thought.

Maybe the cadet named Zeto who died this time couldn't be put in the category of mediocre academy cadets.

It might have been a major figure that was not even in the black hand's information network.

Next was a target named Antony.

A man who was a fairly famous merchant in the Holy Land, but after being falsely accused and exiled, he succeeded again and is called a legend in the industry by merchants.

He came with his daughter and confronted Jeto.

"...Dad, why isn't Zeto waking up?"

"That's what you mean..."

"Brother Zeto... Wake up..."

"Emilia..."

"It's just like mom... I'm just asleep... People are crying... I don't like this..."

"..."

The innocence of a young child is sometimes very cruel to adults.

Hakam stopped overhearing this and cut off the flow of mana into his ears.

'Shit...'

It was the kind of feeling that informants often experience.

Hakam scratched his head.

He had to work, but it was not a good environment to continue gathering information.

All informants should have no blood or tears.

Always thoroughly collect accurate information and try not to include your own subjective views.

But at the same time, he mustn't give up being human, Hakam thought.

People's negative emotions were filling the cathedral where the requiem had been flowing.

'Let's fold at this point.'

Blanc came because he had a personal business anyway, and with this much information, he would think he wasn't doing his job.

Furthermore, since Jeto, who could be said to be the main character of these information, was already dead, the information could have no value.

The moment when Hakam, touched by such a thought, tried to turn his foot.

ㅡPuck.

Bump into someone

For such a small church, the crowd was quite large, so it could have happened.

"...Sorry."

Hakam hurriedly lowered his head and apologized.

But there was no answer, so he raised his head.

"..."

Soon Hakam's eyes caught the image of the woman who bumped into him.

"Uh..."

After checking the woman's face, Hakam had to calm his startled heart.

She tried hard not to give the feeling that she had figured out her identity.

The silver-haired woman wasn't looking at Hakam.

Her body staggered and she seemed lost, but her gaze was fixed in the direction of the coffin.

The woman in front of him, wearing a black robe, was a person comparable to the former 'sword saint' in terms of her reputation.

'The saintess...Why...'

The innocent saint, Bernice.

'Here...?'

She hid her identity and stepped into Zeto's funeral.