act26side

Yes.

Who is he?

A mercenary.

The average conversation between the two of you is about as interesting as 'What'd you eat last night?' 'Dinner.'

Federico, how much do I have to pay you for a few extra words? You name the price, and I'll send the bill to His Holiness.

I have never considered this question.

Give the guy a break. Oh, right. We know now Lemuen is well, but... what about Oren?

The guy ran off a while ago. Even Lemuen doesn't know where he ended up.

But he's pretty good with the self-preservation. If you ask me... he's probably hiding somewhere, planning his next move.

Huh? Uh...

Hmm?

A bell? Where's that sound coming from?

The ringing of the bell signifies the beginning of the sermon.

Should we head over? There won't be anyone in the monastery during the sermon, so we could look for Oren.

No. I'll attend the sermon.

Woah, talk about out of character.

I need to ascertain the overall condition of this monastery to judge whether it can maintain stable function under current circumstances, or if outside intervention is needed.

Attending a sermon where a large number of residents will be present is a good observation opportunity.

Oh...

I suppose it does make sense, if you put it like that. But, uhh, shouldn't you be prioritizing some more clear-cut issues? For example, Oren... Or is there something else you're worried about?

You're overthinking.

I carry out my duties in the manner I find logical.

Huh? The bell's ringing?

That's strange... The Abbot normally doesn't preach at this time, so why's the bell ringing right now?

Oh, Clément! Talk about great timing! Do you know what's going on?

The abbot rang the bell because he decided last-minute to deliver a sermon today.

Let's head over to the chapel.

That's... We should go, but we haven't finished our work yet.

Why the sudden sermon though? Does it have to do with the Laterans? Are they trying to... Uhh, are they here to cause trouble?

Why would you ask that?

It's not a big deal, just tell me if it's true or not... Hey, tell me, are they not letting us go to Laterano because Gerald's people are here?

Where'd you get that idea?

It's been on everyone's mind. The Sankta and the Sarkaz are on bad terms, right? If not for that fact, we might already be back in Laterano.

Well, there's no point talking about any of that now. I just don't know how the abbot feels about all this.

Clément, just forget I ever said anything. Nobody's blaming anyone, and there's nobody to blame in the first place. It's just that... the winter's not easy. The cold's awful.

Yes, I understand.

Everyone's just thinking, if we could go to Laterano, we'd have food, clothing, and work, right?

It'd be nice if there were some forests nearby. At least we'd be able to forage some branches to start a fire, so the kids could stay warm during the winter.

Yes, you're right... At least the kids would stay warm.

But, would our lives really improve after we got to Laterano?

Probably? I mean, where else would we go?

You don't need to worry yourself over that too much, Clément... God will protect us.

What was that sound? What's going on this time...?

(That sound...)

(...a gunshot?!)

Clément has rung the bell...

Now, I should prepare my final...

Who's there?

Fortuna, my child, is that you?

Punctual as ever... Please take a seat until the others arrive.

I still need to finish a few things...

Fortuna?!

What's the meaning of this...?

Avus... Stefano...

Help me...

The bloodstained girl stumbles toward the stunned old man, one step at a time.

The dim light finally illuminates the girl's face, revealing spotty traces of blood, as well as the black horns protruding from her forehead.

In front of her stands a statue of a gun-toting saint bathed in light, but behind her lies a trail of blood that cannot be erased.

Sankta blood drips onto the chapel's floorboards, giving off a dull sound. It is a deafening sound, one that opens all eyes wide.

The patron firearm used for prayer finally slips from the hands that were clutching it tightly.

Fina... Fina, she...

...*sobs*...

Don't cry, sweet child. What happened to Delfina?

She's hurt!

It was me. I hurt her... Avus Stefano, please save her!

Father! Are you alright? What happened–

Fortuna...? What are you doing here? Is that... blood all over you...?

You...

What happened here?!

Huh? That's...

Woah, woah, woah. Is this for real?

This ain't funny anymore.

You people again... What the hell is going on here?!

Why has Fortuna grown a pair of black horns?!

The executor steps into the chapel under the watchful eyes of others.

The fallen angel continues to weep, but Stefano has no choice but to turn his eyes to the visitor.

The response from her halo is showing fluctuations, and horns are growing from her head. This is a clear indication that she has fallen.

She has broken the Commandments.

The sensation is hard to describe.

There's a strange itch on her forehead. The halo atop her crown flickers with no rhyme or reason.

Her view begins, gradually, to dim.

Yes, Fortuna can see the wrinkled abbot's incredulous gaze, and hear the noise of the onlooking crowd.

But she attempts to feel the old man's mind, as she may have done every time before, and yet his emotions no longer drift their way into her soul, not even a hint or trace—

She cannot sense the other Sankta.

She is no longer one amongst them.

Fallen...?

What's the meaning of this...? What's happening to Fortuna? Is—Is she sick?

I'll explain on the way back. First, we handle the pressing matters here—

Avus Stefano!

Save Fina! I'm begging you, save her, hurry!

Child, do not panic. Tell me clearly... what is it that happened?

Fina—Fina was bleeding everywhere, and I couldn't stop it... I couldn't find anyone to help...

It was—It was just a dumb fight—Fina wanted my patron firearm—I should have just given it to her—why didn't I give it to her?

It's all my fault...!

Fear not, fear not, child. There is naught to fear.

As informed by present circumstances, I would consider this a case of accidental injury with no subjective intent to harm.

Silence! Executor!

You would accuse this child... of aggrieving her own kin?!

How can your finger know to lay such blame—?!

It is the most rational assumption.