WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Natty

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◈ The Regressor and the Blind Saintess ◈

Chapter 4: The Gutter - 3

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Perhaps another five days had passed.

This was the day Vera had initially been certain to die.

Vera gave a hollow laugh at the fact that he was still alive.

He hated to admit it, but Rene's care had been effective.

The porridge she had fed him, even cutting back on her own meals, had kept him from starving to death. The divinity she had kindled by gathering the remnants of her vanished authority had slowed the worsening of his wounds.

But that was all.

"Your condition is improving. Hold on a little longer."

At Rene's words, Vera turned his head toward her and replied.

"Nonsense. My life has only been prolonged a little."

Yes, his life had been prolonged a little. That was all.

His wounds were still splitting open. The pain grew worse with every passing day.

The injury, which had gradually worsened over nearly a week, had now robbed him of even the strength to move a fingertip.

Vera let out a breath thick with pain and spoke to Rene.

"How about accepting it now?"

"Accepting what?"

"You've wasted your effort. I'm going to die soon."

As Vera forced out the words with all his strength, Rene smiled faintly and shook her head.

"One cannot know that."

Vera's brow furrowed.

"Nothing will change just because you say that."

"One cannot know without doing one's best."

It was the same answer again.

Once more, Vera felt his insides tighten.

It was her stubbornness, which made him feel so pathetic, that brought on that feeling.

"You are a foolish person."

"I am simply full of love."

"Are you a parrot?"

"Certainly not. As you can see, I am human."

"You never let a single word go."

"A competitive spirit is good nourishment for growth."

Vera frowned.

He wanted to sigh, but the pain stabbing through his entire body meant that was all he could manage.

"If my body were intact, I would slap you."

"That is a fine attitude. I shall remain right here, so please recover quickly and do so."

After saying that, Rene leaned against the wall beside where Vera lay and took out a rosary.

It was a platinum rosary that looked precious at a glance.

It was a symbol of the Holy Kingdom's high priests.

Whenever she had a moment to spare, she always held that rosary and continued to pray.

Once, Vera had asked what she prayed for so tirelessly.

Her answer had been that she prayed for Vera's recovery. It was a truly ridiculous wish, one no one but an idiot would make.

Recalling that exchange, Vera let the words slip out as he watched Rene pray with the rosary in hand.

"...If you are not going to throw that rosary away, you should leave it here."

"How could I do that?"

"You will die because of that rosary."

Vera said it as if declaring a certainty, watching Rene, whose eyes remained closed.

It was not an idle remark.

The Gutter was the sort of place where such things could easily happen.

The Scavengers of the Gutter.

That was what they were called because they would even tear out and sell a corpse's organs if they could fetch money.

If they found that rosary, Rene would immediately become their target.

Those vile bastards would drive a blade into Rene's throat and take her breath away, steal the rosary, then cut open her belly and pull out every organ to sell before they were finally satisfied.

"The Scavengers are madmen who live only for today. They would steal that rosary even if it meant enduring pursuit by the Holy Kingdom, as long as it earned them money to spend today."

Speaking at such length made the pain in Vera's chest flare again.

Vera breathed harshly through the pain shaking his body, then frowned.

He could not understand why he had said such a thing, why he had meddled for no reason.

Had he finally gone mad because death was near? As that thought crossed his mind...

"That is unfortunate."

That was Rene's response.

After speaking, Rene opened her eyes and continued with a small smile.

"They must live lives harsh enough to force them to do such things."

"Hah. If Cariac heard that, they would laugh themself backward onto the ground."

"Who might that be?"

"The first Scavenger."

"Oh my, so they were a person of renown."

"Well, you could say that."

They had created the deepest darkness in the Gutter, so it was not entirely wrong.

"They are not even worth pitying."

"Is there truly such a person in the world?"

"You really do live in a world of flowers."

"Since I cannot see, I have no choice but to picture one in my mind."

"...Stop it."

Vera closed his eyes.

He had never lost to anyone in a battle of words, yet whenever he spoke with her, he always felt as though he was being drawn in.

Truly, no matter how he looked at it, she was more suited to being called an oddity than a Saintess.

Since bringing Vera here, she had never once asked anything about him.

Setting aside his identity or past, she had not even asked his name, the most basic thing.

Was it because she had no interest? That was not it, either.

She spent nearly all her time caring for Vera, never showing fatigue or annoyance.

Whenever Vera seemed about to lose consciousness, she would hold his hand tightly and speak to him. Though she herself could barely eat one proper meal a day, she always made sure Vera was fed.

It could truly be called the nobility befitting a Saintess, but to Vera, it felt less like nobility and more like something strange.

'...No.'

Vera felt a breathy laugh escape his lips.

The truth was that he judged her that way because he did not want to think of it as nobility.

Her light, which did not fade even as she lived in such misery, was too dazzling. It made him feel as though he himself, covered in every kind of filth, had been exposed.

Vera humbly acknowledged it.

He was belittling her because he was ashamed that his past life, lived as the worst of villains, was laid bare beneath her light.

He was belittling her because she was so dazzling, accomplishing without hesitation what he had never been able to do.

Vera had thought there would be no one beside him at the end of his life.

He had lived too ugly a life to dare hope someone would remain.

So he had vowed to accept dying alone, yet her light was dulling even that vow.

She was giving warmth that such a wretched person had no right to receive.

'...How laughable.'

Vera mocked himself for relying on her warmth.

* * *

Vera's gaze followed her.

...It followed her face as she sat with her eyes blankly closed.

Her face was grotesque, melted by burns until its original shape could not be recognized.

Vera tried to imagine what her face had looked like before, but it had been so badly ruined that even that was difficult.

"Did you make your face like that yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"...I mean the burns."

"Yes, I did it myself."

"Was there a reason to go that far?"

Vera could not understand it. If she merely wanted to hide her identity, she could have used an artifact. If that was not possible, she could have worn a mask.

As Vera waited for an answer with a face full of questions, Rene gave a soft chuckle.

Her tone held a slightly playful note.

"Did you know? Before I made my face like this, I was a beauty who would make anyone who saw me gasp in admiration."

It was an unexpected remark, but Vera understood her intent from that one sentence.

More than anyone, Vera knew that beauty was a fatal weakness in the Gutter.

She meant that it had been a choice to protect herself, but...

"...How can someone who cannot see be so certain? Have you never considered that those who saw you simply lacked the courage to call you ugly?"

For some reason, Vera found the way she spoke of herself irritating and gave that reply.

As expected, her response was touched by amusement.

"I am right."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Do you know what it means not to be able to see?"

As she said this, Rene leaned toward Vera. Her hand settled over Vera's.

"It means that one's other senses become that much sharper. Through them, I can discern falsehood in words better than most."

Rene's hand stroked the back of Vera's hand.

"A person's voice carries countless tremors depending on the emotions within it. When someone lies, there are tremors that break off sharply. When someone speaks with deep feeling, there are tremors that grow soaked through."

The hand that had been stroking Vera's hand moved to his wrist and gently pressed against his pulse.

"A pulse can be felt as well. The more intense one's emotions become, the more clearly it reveals itself."

"...Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because almost everyone who saw me spoke in a voice full of passion."

"Have you considered that you might be overly self-conscious?"

"Certainly not. I can be sure of it. The tremors in the voices of those who called me beautiful, and the warmth that accompanied them, all held a hazy light. As far as I know, only love gives a voice such a sorrowful glow."

"Everyone who saw you fell in love with you? Are you not ashamed to praise your own face so highly?"

"I merely stated the truth."

Seeing Rene say such things without a trace of embarrassment, Vera felt a hollow laugh slip out.

"Enough. I should not have asked."

"It is only unfortunate that I have no way to prove it."

Rene's hand left Vera's wrist, and the warmth that had seeped into it faded away.

Vera felt an inexplicable emptiness at that sensation. He let out a short breath, then pressed his lips tightly together.

Had his heart grown weak along with his body?

Vera felt his pride sting at the emotion that had just arisen.

He had never lived a life in which he asked anyone for help or regretted warmth leaving him. Yet whenever he dealt with her, such weakness slipped out.

His shallow imagination continued to raise meaningless assumptions.

Would things have been different if I had met you in another time, another place, from another position? What if I had met you before I became this ugly? Would I have lived a different life? If it had been before you ruined your face, would I have felt love, as you say?

Endless assumptions. Feeling his insides stir again, Vera bit his lip and cast them aside.

Those assumptions only deepened his misery.

After a long time spent driving away those thoughts, silence settled over the room.

"...Then I shall step outside for a moment."

Rene spoke.

Vera watched her hesitate as she stood, leaning on the wall and staggering forward. Then he spoke again.

"You should leave the rosary behind."

"How could I do that?"

Once again, her answer was a refusal.

Vera watched Rene slowly walk away with her back turned to him, and felt his insides twist into a suffocating knot.

That was why the words slipped out.

"...So all those prayers you kept making were prayers for someone to kill you."

"Certainly not. I will absolutely not die until you rise to your feet."

With a Creeeak, Rene opened the door of the plank house and stepped outside.

"I will be back."

Her voice was as calm as always.

It was the last voice of Rene's that Vera heard.

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