Chapter 85

“————!?”

For a moment, it felt as though an incredibly vulgar phrase had just been spun from the flower-like, lovely lips of this angelically beautiful girl.

Ignoring the frozen crowd, Elma continued, her voice clearly laced with irritation.

“A disease manifesting only in women, with the primary symptoms of festering limbs and the rigid narrowing of photoreceptor cells. In my knowledge, this is categorized as ‘Nematode Disease.’ Because the cause is neither a pathogen nor the wrath of God, but a parasite—planted into and by a flea-dropping of a man.”

“A parasite…?”

Before the dazed spectators, Elma continued rummaging through her cloth bag.

“Typically, this parasite resides in the rectums of livestock like sheep and goats. However, due to the deviant sexual preferences of certain flea-droppings of men, it is transmitted via the male genitalia to parasitize and grow within the female body. It is only natural that healing arts cannot cure it. The mental image required to activate such arts differs vastly between pathogens and parasites; furthermore, Holy Power is fundamentally a power that nurtures life. No matter how much you restore the body with healing arts, you cannot eradicate the parasite—the root cause—with that same power.”

“…!”

The clear explanation left everyone speechless.

Elma looked quietly at Luana. Then, she looked at the spectators who had shown such visceral loathing toward Chloe the moment they heard the name “Whore’s Disease.”

“Most likely, the mother… she was the only one who had an idea of the true cause. Yet, she endured it without ever making it public. The reason no other victims appeared was because she never had contact with any other man. In this country, is it ‘ordinary’ to call such a woman a ‘whore’ or a ‘wench’?”

“……”

The complexions of those around her shifted. Luana’s face, in particular, went past pale and turned the color of paper. If Elma’s claim was true—she was not the daughter of a victim, but the daughter of a perpetrator.

In the midst of the heavy silence, Elma turned back to Chloe. She softened her brow, her expression taking on the compassionate depth of a Holy Mother.

“Chloe… it must have been very painful for you.”

“……”

The unexpected kindness from an unexpected person caused Chloe’s eyes to well up again. However, these tears were of a completely different nature than the ones from before.

Elma gently tucked a strand of Chloe’s hair behind her ear. Then, she took Chloe’s arm and guided her hand to touch the pot sitting before her.

“But please, rest easy. My brother actually developed a specific remedy for this disease, and I happen to know the recipe.”

“Eh…?”

“Coincidentally, the main ingredient is the Alloro tree. By reacting this sap with acid, then crystallizing and separating it, the raw drug can be obtained.”

“Eh…!?”

“Furthermore, due to time constraints, I happen to have the finished product right here.”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeh!?”

Chloe didn’t even know where to begin her retort. Standing before Elma, who had produced a small vial from her bag with a flourish, Chloe stood frozen with eyes as round as saucers.

She simply stared at the girl before her. A girl of inhuman beauty who possessed the overwhelming power to command plants at will, who had dismantled Chloe’s deepest suffering from its very roots, and who was now offering a miracle cure.

She wasn’t the only one who thought they saw a halo shining behind Elma at that moment.

“Wh… why… are you… helping me…?”

As she asked, tears began to track down Chloe’s cheeks unbidden.

“I’m a stranger… a rival from another country… why…?”

It was a miracle. This was a miracle. Feeling the solid weight of the vial handed to her, Chloe agonized over whether she should truly accept such fortune.

“Why—?”

“It’s a protection fee.”

“…Excuse me?”

And then she was confused. She felt as though she had heard a word that was completely out of context.

Seeing Chloe left behind by the conversation, Elma offered a refreshing smile for some reason.

“My apologies. Please think of it as a lesson fee. I had much to learn from your presence.”

“Fr… from someone like me…?”

“Yes. You taught me the importance of being organic… of maintaining a natural state.”

Chloe didn’t quite get it—actually, she didn’t get it at all. Could this miraculous girl really have anything to learn from her? She thought desperately through her confusion. Or perhaps, was it some kind of ironic expression? A way of saying that seeing Chloe kill her own emotions and endure unreasonable situations had reaffirmed the importance of behaving naturally?

‘I was always… suppressing so many things, pretending not to see… that was all I did.’

Suddenly, she remembered the conversation she had with Raul and the others last night. They had called her kind. They called her big-hearted. But Chloe knew better than anyone that she wasn’t those things.

‘I was just… a coward. Even when I hated things, I was too scared of conflict to speak up, so I just stayed silent.’

“Um—”

Chloe found her resolve and looked up. But before she could speak—

“—Don’t give me that crap! …It’s all nonsense! A total scam!”

A shrill female voice echoed through the arena. It was Luana. Her face contorted with rage, she pointed at Elma and Chloe and shrieked.

“Everyone, you’re being tricked by that Luden woman! It’s true, isn’t it? That woman stole my father from my mother first! She’s a filthy whore! You are the perpetrators, and we are the victims! That is an unshakeable fact!”

Her eyes burned, her tone was powerful. Even with her face cramped in anger, she held a pressure far beyond that of a typical girl her age.

This was the pressure that had always overwhelmed Chloe and forced her into silence. She had bathed in self-pity, thinking that as long as she was the only one who endured it, everything would be fine, and she never tried to fight back.

“Luana, you…!”

“I’ve heard enough—”

Raul and Gino, their faces flush with anger, stepped forward to shield Chloe once again. But for the first time, Chloe stopped them of her own volition.

“Wait.”

She stole a glance at Elma, then fixed her gaze on Luana and took a deep breath. For the first time, she was releasing her own emotions; her cheeks flushed with the sensation of her heart trembling.

“Luana. I… I absolutely hate you.”

Her voice rang out with unexpected clarity.

At first, Luana simply widened her eyes, as if a weak little animal had suddenly bitten her, and then she let out a breath in the form of a mocking laugh.

“…Hah. Is that so?”

“I hate you. I hate your cowardice in hurting my few friends, your foul language toward my mother, your disgusting habit of buying followers with money, your cunning, your narrow-mindedness, and your hysterics. All of it.”

To Luana, being hated by a mistress’s daughter probably meant nothing. But for Chloe, clearly “hating” someone—deciding that she was willing to hurt the other person—was a massive, monumental decision.

“I don’t think you should die—I still can’t bring myself to think that. But I do hope you suffer. Exactly as much as you made me suffer.”

She had thought that wishing for someone’s suffering was a terrifying thing. As was hating someone. It felt despicable, cruel, and taboo.

Chloe had not resisted—not because she could forgive her opponent, but because she could not forgive herself for doing something she deemed “forbidden.”

But that was no way to live.

The anger toward Luana and the sorrow of being hurt had been seething at the bottom of her heart, desperate for an outlet. Simply suppressing those feelings had only made things worse instead of calming the situation.

If only she had faced this anger sooner, stood up to Luana, and raised her voice. Perhaps the cause of her mother’s illness would have been uncovered much earlier. Perhaps unnecessary disgrace could have been avoided.

What she had needed was not to shove her raging negative emotions into a hard shell, but to release them properly into the world.

‘Just like her—the one who controlled those fierce giant trees and vines, shattering the very stones…’

Chloe gently relaxed her right fist, which she had been clenching unconsciously. It was the fist she had held tight every time her emotions threatened to overflow.

“As it happens, aren’t we both the daughters of a ‘flea-dropping’ of a man?”

“…!”

Luana turned pale as she realized that the verbal abuse she had hurled at Chloe in the past was now coming back to her twofold.

Chloe offered a smile to the foolish Luana, and slowly, from her right fist, she raised only her thumb.

“Having stones thrown at me, having my clothes torn, having slanderous notes planted on me… thanks to you, I’ve become quite well-acquainted with the hardships of a daughter with a troublesome parent.”

“…………”

Then, before the trembling Luana—

“Therefore—allow me to give you a guided tour of the agonies of hell.”

Chloe thrust her right thumb downward toward the ground.

A sharp intake of breath hissed through the crowd. An indescribable pressure radiated from Chloe, who until moments ago had seemed so delicate and fragile.

Irene, watching the exchange, couldn’t help but mutter:

“Oh no… the top Holy Maiden candidate… she’s fallen into darkness…!”

Her eyes were welling up.

“Is that so?”

“Don’t give me ‘Is that so’! What are we going to do, Elma!? Such a pure-looking girl…!”

“I wonder. Her underlying nature doesn’t seem to have changed much to me.”

As Irene shook her back and forth, Elma tilted her head. She was the only one who had caught the words Chloe added in a whisper:

—I’ll show you the agonies of hell… together, won’t I?

True to her words, Chloe understood that she, too, was the daughter of the perpetrator. While the stares directed at “Whore’s Disease” patients and their families would likely soften significantly compared to before, Chloe would still unfairly face a portion of the blame and attacks aimed at the head of the Contesti family.

From now on, she would fight through that—alongside Luana.

“But, how should I put it…? She gives the impression of having a much stronger core now compared to before. Even in her micro-expressions.”

Elma mused that the current Chloe would likely be able to express appropriate anger and fight her battles—though, of course, she didn’t dream for a second that she was the cause of this change.

Perhaps sensing Elma’s gaze, Chloe spun around. With a resolute expression on her innocent and lovely face, she looked up at Elma.

“Um—once again, thank you so much. I realized I haven’t introduced myself properly; I am Chloe Contesti. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything today.”

“No, no, I just happened to have some spare medicine on hand.”

“No, it isn’t just that.”

The weakness was gone from Chloe’s dark green eyes. In its place was a directness that seemed to pierce through Elma. She wore a smile that beamed across her youthful face.

“I finally understand. I can’t just stay silent. When I encounter an enemy—I have to trample them down with all my might.”

“I knew it, she has fallen into darkness!”

Irene, overhearing the conversation, couldn’t help but shout as she shook Elma’s shoulders again.

“Is it just me, or is an aura of pitch-black darkness bleeding out from that innocent smile!? Am I imagining it!? Hey, tell me I’m imagining it!”

“Aren’t you just imagining it? Irene, please calm down; later, I’ll cook you a meal using these overgrown plants.”

“I don’t want any of th— actually, I do. I want that. Okay, I’m calm.”

Elma gave a warm look to Irene, who had suddenly let go and regained her composure.

“Irene, you really do love to eat…”

“Sh-shut up! Everything else just fades away when I eat your cooking, so I can’t help it!”

While they bickered, Chloe continued to stare at Elma with a bright smile. One could almost sense a murky aura behind that grin, but the eyes staring intently at Elma were sparkling and clear without a hint of cloudiness.

Irene felt a sudden sense of déjà vu watching Chloe wait for Elma’s response.

“Well, Chloe, was it? I hate to dampen your resolve, but I don’t recall ever teaching anything about ‘trampling enemies’…”

“Oh, I’m sorry…! I suppose just trampling them isn’t enough, is it? There are other ways, like grinding them down or twisting them apart. How embarrassing of me…”

“Eh, no.”

Despite her honest demeanor, this presence—of someone overwhelming even her “master” (Elma) and running wild—reminded Irene of someone.

As Irene narrowed her eyes in suspicion, Chloe gently pressed her hands to her cheeks.

“I must devote myself more. So that I might become even a little closer to you, my great master.”

“Eh?”

“I feel as though I’ve received strength—an incredible power—from you.”

How to describe it? She was single-minded, certainly, but it was a level of heat that exceeded that definition.

“Elma, right? You are truly a wonderful person…”

“Um, Chloe? Hello?”

Irene, observing the exchange, had a sudden realization. She knew exactly who Chloe resembled.

“If you don’t mind—could I… call you ‘Big Sister’?”

It was Deborah.

Those entranced, fanatical, “far-gone” eyes. Chloe—possessing the look Irene had dubbed “Deborah Eyes”—was now looking up at Elma in a pose like a devotee praying to a god.

“Um…”

On the stage of the arena, which had fallen into a heavy silence, a voice called out.

“I’d like to decide who the Saint is in this situation…”

…but first, could everyone please leave the stage?

It was the sad, weak voice of Cardinal Celso, trying to get the proceedings back on track.