Chapter 55: The Gift of Restoring Life

"Phew. Today's work really was tough, wasn't it?" In the crowded and chaotic alleyways of the old housing blocks by the eastern quadrant of the inner walls, Henry, carrying a small sack of potatoes, dragged his tired body back home.

He had woken up early in the morning to do hard labor at the mines outside the city, working from morning until afternoon before finally getting this month's pay to spend on food and miscellaneous expenses.

Though the foreman at the mine had skimmed off about a third of his pay, the weight of the bag of potatoes in his hands felt substantial. He listened to the clinking of the five silver coins in his left pocket as his weathered face broke into a toothy grin.

"I'll take Vanessa out for a little treat. I even earned an extra silver coin this month," Henry murmured, rubbing his slightly sore shoulders. He had worked harder than usual this month.

Because of the war, the cost of living in the capital had skyrocketed. He used to be able to take his daughter out for a good meal once a month and even allow his wife to see a play, but ever since the war began, inflation had made even basic survival a struggle. No one had spare money for leisure anymore.

Fortunately, the owner of the mine unexpectedly turned out to be a kind man, who gave the workers a pay raise as a result. Their wages were about 50% more than before. By gritting his teeth and enduring the hardship, Henry felt that he could still manage to get by. His wife was also working harder, washing clothes for others to earn extra money. Every time Henry saw her hands soaked white and peeling from the work, his heart ached terribly.

This month, he had worked especially hard to earn an extra silver coin, toiling from dawn till dusk. Half of it would go toward taking his wife and daughter out for a small break, while the rest would be saved for emergencies.

His mood lightened at the thought. Despite the tough labor, it felt worthwhile. Still, he knew he couldn't push his limits like this again next month. The strain on his arm was reaching its peak. If he didn't rest, he risked losing the ability to work entirely.

Suddenly, a rumbling sound came from behind, catching Henry's attention. He turned to see a formation of well-armed royal guards running down the street.

"What's going on now?" Henry muttered with some frustration, scratching his head. He didn't have a favorable impression of these arrogant city guards. When on duty, they never considered the lives of the lower-class citizens in the wall area. At best, they'd kick someone out of the way; at worst, they might draw their swords on passersby for perceived interference.

The war had made the city unstable. The wall district, already chaotic, had become the most dangerous part of the capital. Murder, robbery, assault, and brawls were daily occurrences. As a result, city guards patrolled the area frequently.

"I just hope they don't demolish my house again," Henry sighed. What else could he do? He was just another bottom-tier resident of the wall district, with a wife and child to support. The pressures of family life had aged him prematurely—though he was only forty, he looked closer to fifty.

Sometimes, Henry envied the bachelors who spent their wages on cheap beer, drinking themselves into oblivion at the taverns. But when he then thought of his wife's gentle massages and his daughter's innocent smile, he would punch himself in the face. How could he even think of being so selfish?

The last time the city guards searched around the inner walls for fugitives, they didn’t bother notifying the residents. Instead, they barged in, smashing and overturning everything in sight.

Those who resisted were either kicked to the ground or run through with a blade. The elderly man next door, for instance, had merely tried to stop them from harming his old cat and was struck so hard on the back of his head with a sword hilt that he met his end.

Shaking his head, Henry’s initial good mood vanished in an instant. He regretted coming to the capital in his youth. The capital was a good place, but not for people like him.

Pushing aside his gloomy thoughts, he stopped in front of a modest but tidy stone house. He adjusted his expression, forcing a smile. He didn't want his wife, Sunny, to sense his sorrow.

Pulling out a key, he unlocked the door. The sound of guards rushing by once again made him frown. So many soldiers—something big must have happened. A sense of unease spread through him. Perhaps he should fetch his daughter from her night classes early, just to be safe.

With a creak, the old wooden door groaned as he pushed it open. The house wasn't dim, but the towering city walls blocked much of the sunlight.

"Sani, I'm home! Guess what surprise I brought?" Henry called out loudly, shaking his clothes to make the coins in his chest pocket jingle clearly in the small house.

"Dear, what's gotten you so happy?" his wife's voice came from the kitchen, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of a knife chopping on a cutting board.

"Can't you hear it?" Henry grinned as he placed the sack on the floor and slumped into a chair by the table. Exhausted from a full day of work, he decided to rest before joining her.

“Sorry, dear. My ears are ailing. Why don't you just tell me?" Sani responded. The chopping continued.

"Haha, I earned an extra silver coin! Tomorrow night, you can go watch a play at the Night Lily Theater. While you’re there, I'll take Vanessa to buy some pastries, and there'll even be some left for you," Henry said, laughing. His wife rarely made jokes, so her playfulness today was a pleasant surprise.

"Oh, that's wonderful! I haven't seen a play at the Night Lily in ages. I missed the second half of The Black Prince and the Ghost Princess. Vanessa hasn't had pastries in a long time either. But once I finish what I'm working on, we won’t need to worry about such trivial things anymore, heehee." Sani’s tone was gentle, but there was a strange undertone to her words. The sound of chopping continued without pause.

"What do you mean? Right, Sani, what are you chopping? What's for dinner?" Henry asked, growing uneasy. His wife usually greeted him at the door with a hug, but today she remained in the kitchen. They were out of food—what could she possibly be chopping?

"Ah, dear, I'm just cutting some meat while completing the Life Sacrament of our church. Once it's done, we won't have to worry about all those annoying things anymore, heehee." His wife's voice remained soft, but there was an indescribable eeriness to her tone, and her words carried an unsettling meaning.

"Meat? Where did we get meat from?" Henry asked, his unease growing. He was aware that his wife had recently started following some church known as the "Font of Life," but given how tough life was, he hadn't paid it much attention. As long as it brought her happiness, it seemed harmless. But what she was saying now felt wrong.

He wanted to get up and see what was going on in the kitchen, but his body, heavy with fatigue, made him hesitate. It felt unnecessary. Instead, he stayed in his chair, keeping up the conversation. Yet he couldn't shake an unsettling thought: where could they have possibly gotten meat? They could barely afford basic food.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?" His wife's voice turned teasing, laced with a strange twist that stirred something deep inside Henry—a sinister curiosity he couldn't suppress.

Henry's mind began to wander, dark thoughts surfacing unbidden. His wife, Sunny, was considered quite attractive by the standards of the walls. Many men had ogled her. Henry had once been proud of this and even had to fend off offers from lecherous neighbors. Yet now, her odd tone and the mysterious appearance of the meat planted a seed of suspicion in his mind.

Could it be? While he toiled away, had his wife... sold herself?

The notion was absurd, yet it gripped his mind with an iron hold. An uncontrollable rage surged through him, his blood boiling with anger.

"You ungrateful wretch! I've worked so hard, and this is how you repay me?!" he roared, leaping from his chair. His fists clenched, knuckles cracking with the pressure, as he stormed toward the kitchen. His exhaustion forgotten, he was driven by a fury that demanded answers—and retribution.

But as he burst into the kitchen, his fury turned to shock, his body freezing in place. The sight before him was beyond comprehension, beyond any nightmare he'd ever imagined.His eyes bulged.

The scene was a grotesque tableau of horror. The kitchen counters were smeared with blood and viscera. On the chopping board lay a mass of flesh—disjointed, unrecognizable. Yet amidst the carnage, his wife's head sat atop the mass, her face intact but horrifyingly animated, her lips curling into a soft smile.

The scene unfolding before Henry's eyes had already surpassed anything he had experienced in his decades of life. This hellish spectacle on earth shattered his mental defenses entirely. The hot blood of rage that once coursed through his veins abruptly cooled, almost ceasing to flow.

"What’s wrong, dear? Are you going to join me as well?" His wife's voice drifted from the kitchen—no, from the cutting board in the kitchen.

"No, no, Sunny, that isn't you, is it?! What's going on? What's going on?! A mon-monster!" Henry stammered in disbelief at the gentle voice coming from... his wife's severed head.

On the counter lay a grotesque heap of what could barely be called human flesh. His wife was reduced to just a head and an arm. That single arm was grotesquely fused directly to her head, as if crudely attached with shoddy clay. It moved mechanically as it chopped the pile of meat on the counter.

"Ah... just wait a little longer, my dear. Don't rush. I'll finish up soon. Once I've offered my share of the blood sacrifice to my Lord, you can help with the rest. And of course, our darling Vanessa, too," said the head, lips moving. The lone arm picked up a chunk of flesh and dropped it into the pot beside her.

"Sunny, that's...?!" Henry couldn't even complete his sentence. The implication of her words was beyond horrifying. He was paralyzed on the spot.

"Yes, that's me, haha!" The head let out a manic giggle, sending shivers down Henry's spine. He felt a mix of anguish and terror.

"How did you become like this?!" he shouted uncontrollably, his fear momentarily overtaken by anger and confusion.

"Because I've seen the true meaning of life! Praise my Lord, the origin of all life, Erphine!" his wife’s head shouted fanatically. At her exclamation, the pot of flesh began to tremble. Unable to help himself, Henry looked over.

What was that? The grotesque mixture of flesh and bone fragments in the pot, which should have been completely dead, now squirmed like a living thing. A nauseatingly sweet metallic odor filled the air. But no... it wasn't disgusting. It was... beautiful.

It was so beautiful, the way it twisted and writhed. It reminded him of the swirling stars he'd gazed at as a child on summer nights. Look, from within it, a mouth was forming—it must have been from the pieces his wife had just cut. So beautiful. Just like the way she had always been.

Oh, and there it was, an enormous eye made of intestines woven together, with a liver and stomach as decor. It was mesmerizing. Oh, it was looking at him! This must be the gaze of the Lord. He... he had to return to Him, the source of all things. To give himself to Him—what bliss! He had to complete the sacrificial ritual of life and blood.

A smile curled on Henry's lips as he walked toward the counter, picking up the knife his wife had used. Sunny couldn't finish the task herself—she was down to half a head and one arm. It was up to him now. Vanessa would help them finish the rest later!

With the blade raised high, Henry grinned maniacally as he brought it down toward what remained of his wife. Thud!

"Dad! Mom! I'm home!" A young girl’s cheerful voice rang out from outside, accompanied by a soft knock on the wooden door.

No one answered. Vanessa, a slim, sun-kissed girl in a faded dress, tilted her head in confusion. "That's strange... Dad and Mom should be home by now," she muttered.

She crouched down and fumbled around under a wooden post by the door, eventually pulling out a rusted key. "I wonder if this still works..." It was the family's spare key. Maybe her parents had just stepped out for a bit.

Standing on her toes, she carefully inserted the key into the lock and turned it with difficulty. Finally, the lock clicked open. The wooden door creaked as it swung inward, and Vanessa rushed into the house without closing it.

"Dad? Mom?" she called out, her eyes falling on a burlap sack near the table’s legs. "Dad's sack! So many potatoes—we won’t go hungry anymore! Amazing!”

Vanessa cheered with excitement. With so many potatoes, they wouldn't have to endure the gnawing hunger they had suffered through the past month. Waking up in the middle of the night from hunger was unbearable. Mom always gave her portion to Dad in secret—she must've suffered even more. This month, they could finally eat!

"But where are Mom and Dad?" Vanessa murmured in puzzlement. Still, it wasn’t entirely unusual for them to leave her home alone. As a well-behaved child, she turned toward the door to close it. She'd wait patiently for their return. Earlier, she had seen a group of city guards running down the alley—it wasn't safe outside. She hoped her parents would come back soon.

"Vanessa... come here..." Her mother's voice suddenly drifted into her ears. It sounded odd, but it was unmistakably her mother's voice. Vanessa stopped mid-step and turned around in delight. "Mom, you’re here—Ahhhh!"

Her joyful call turned into a terrified scream as her eyes landed on a humanoid mass of flesh and sludge. This sticky, gelatinous pile of meat barely resembled a human form. Foul-smelling liquid oozed from its body, pooling across the floor in an utterly repulsive sight.

From what seemed to be its head, a mouth emerged and spoke in a voice Vanessa knew all too well, one that now filled her with boundless fear. "Vanessa, my darling, come help Mommy complete her sacrificial ritual of life and blood!" Her mother's voice came from the grotesque creature.

"No! Don't come near me! You... you're not my mom! You're a monster!" Vanessa screamed, retreating in terror.

"Vanessa! How can you speak that way about your mother?!" came her father’s stern voice from the kitchen. Another grotesque, slimy figure emerged—a copy of the flesh monster from earlier.

"No! Dad...? What—stay back! No! Ahhhhh!" Vanessa screamed and turned to run.

"How could you leave your mother, you naughty child?" the flesh monster hissed in disapproval in her mother’s voice. Its arm shot out and extended rapidly toward the fleeing girl, while the second monster lunged at her with unnaturally swift movements.

The elongated arm reached out with terrifying speed, ready to snatch Vanessa. Then, suddenly—A card flew through the half-open door, radiating with brilliant yellow light.

The card, emblazoned with the symbol of a sun, whizzed past Vanessa's slim figure and made a sharp turn in mid-air. It sliced through the extended arm of the flesh monster cleanly, golden flames igniting the severed appendage and reducing it to ash almost instantly.

Meanwhile, the other flesh monster lunged toward Vanessa, its grotesque body threatening to engulf her.

"Bang!" It was met with a heavy shield, whose engraved crest sent the creature flying. It crashed into the first monster, smashing through chairs and tables and slamming hard into the wall.

"Are you alright?" a gentle voice asked. Vanessa opened her eyes to see herself being cradled by a knight in light armor. His golden hair shone like sunlight, and he held her protectively with one hand while his other hand wielded the shield that had just struck the monster. For a fleeting moment, he looked like a god descending to save her.

“Leave the rest to me,” he said softly, placing Vanessa safely behind him. Edward Wolyn raised his heavy shield, drew his longsword, and turned toward the two monsters slowly rising.

"And me!" chimed in an irreverent voice. Charles, a magician with a top hat and a handful of cards, appeared from behind, ready to join the fray.