Free Web NovelChapter 385: Chapter 84: A Sense of Otherworldly Independence
"Relief aid?" Terence repeated the word, his cloudy eyes filled with deep confusion as if he had heard something utterly foreign. "Has Viscount Hans... had a change of heart? Or did the Church finally send someone?"
He shook his head, refuting his own idea. ’That’s not right... The Hans family has never done anything like this for generations. The Church? Ever since the northern pass was rerouted, there’s been less to gain from this place. You could count the number of times those Priests and Deacons have visited on one hand...’
Leon waited patiently for the old master to finish muttering to himself before speaking in a low voice. "It’s neither, Master. I heard... it’s people from the Monte Territory."
"The Monte Territory?" Terence mulled over the name, his brow furrowing even deeper.
The name seemed to stir something in the depths of his memory, bringing a sharp yet indistinct pang of pain.
’Monte Territory... Duval Territory...’ It felt as though something important connected them, but a thick fog clouded his mind, preventing him from recalling what it was.
"Duval... Duval Territory..." he murmured unconsciously, his gaze drifting to the distance beyond the window, as if trying to pierce through time itself to see something clearly.
After quite some time, the commotion seemed to gradually die down, and the street returned to a suffocating silence. Only the sound of the wind moaned as it passed through the dilapidated eaves.
But it was as if the name and the long-absent "relief aid" had stirred something in Terence. He suddenly slapped the armrest of his wheelchair, his tone obstinate. "Push me outside... Leon, take me out. I want to see."
Leon was taken aback and quickly tried to dissuade him. "Master, it’s windy outside. Your health..."
"What about my health?" Terence whipped his head around to glare at his old servant. Though his eyes were dim with age, a flicker of the sharpness befitting an Official Knight still remained in their depths. "I am an Official Knight! Even if I’m old, my bones are still tougher than you common folk! Push me out! I want to see with my own eyes... see what this Monte Territory... is really up to."
Leon knew that once his master got an idea in his head, no one could talk him out of it. With a sigh, he called over a younger servant. Together, they carefully carried Terence, wheelchair and all, down the stairs and out of the spacious, magnificent mansion.
The afternoon sun was a bit harsh. Terence squinted, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust.
The street was even more dilapidated than it had appeared from his window. The stone slabs of the road were cracked and sunken, sewage ran in rivulets, and an indescribable stench of decay hung in the air.
They headed toward the old square to the east, the source of the earlier commotion.
The closer they got to the square, the more they saw things that seemed out of place.
People were carefully picking up grains of wheat scattered on the ground. A few ragged children, with a bit more life in their faces, ran past, clutching what looked to be clean and thick homespun clothes. A faint scent of hot porridge and medicinal herbs drifted through the air.
At the edge of the square, several simple but sturdy carriages were parked, their tops covered with waterproof tarps.
People were methodically unloading burlap sacks and wooden crates from the carriages.
In the center of the square, under a simple, makeshift wooden canopy, a figure stood with their back to Terence. They were bent slightly, appearing to speak in low tones to a woman holding an infant.
The figure wore a simple, belted black dress, devoid of the intricate decorations common among the nobility, yet she carried herself with a quiet, poised dignity.
Her long black hair was tied back simply, revealing the pale, elegant nape of her neck.
Just then, the figure seemed to have finished helping the woman. She slowly straightened up and turned, her gaze sweeping over the waiting crowd as if to ensure everything was in order.
The sunlight fell perfectly on her profile.
Terence’s murky pupils contracted sharply!
Time seemed to freeze in that instant.
The surrounding clamor of voices, carriages, and running children... all of it faded away, blurring into a dull, buzzing drone.
In his vision, only one thing remained: the young woman in the black dress, standing with quiet composure.
She was too far away, and with his failing eyesight, he couldn’t actually make out her features clearly.
But there was a feeling.
A peculiar feeling.
It was the aura of someone who, despite standing in a crowd, seemed to exist in a world of her own. It was the sense that even while tending to the destitute, she was surrounded by an otherworldly detachment that was completely at odds with the suffering around her...
Countless shards of memory suddenly burst through the fog, flooding his mind!
"Ce... Cecilia..."
