Chapter 57

“Can you persuade Anne?”

“Yes! …But what should I persuade her about?”

057

The Spider’s Web (Part 2)

When I came to my senses, the world that held me was bright. Bright enough to make my eyes hurt a little.

So, the tears streaming down my face must be because the light is too intense. For a long time, I lay there like a lifeless corpse, shedding tears, before slowly sitting up.

My body aches and pulls in various places, but compared to the end, I’m surprisingly intact. Carefully, I raise my hand and touch the faint scar etched into my skin, as if it had been carved long ago.

I… Louis.

Louis… me.

“Phew.”

I exhale and look around. A painfully familiar scene fills my vision.

The room isn’t very large and is sparsely furnished. A hard bed, a small desk, and a chamber pot are all there is. On the desk lies a black-bound Scripture, and on one wall, a golden cross.

Upon closer inspection, the Scripture has a creased page. Opening it, I find the story of one of the early heretics, the “Mad King.” Unlike the king, who ate the Holy Body to remain eternally young, his queen, a mere mortal, aged. The king begged for another Holy Body but was denied.

Eventually, the king turned his back on Ailim and succumbed to Laube’s temptation, learning the secret to creating an elixir of immortality. The final ingredient? The heart of the queen he once loved enough to forsake his faith.

Even in the cracks of solid rock, weeds take root, and corruption waits cunningly for its moment.

The king, having lost the blessing of the gods and begun to age, killed his wife without hesitation to complete the elixir. By then, he had forgotten why he had started making it in the first place.

I smooth out the creased page of the Scripture and turn my head, only to find bars of blessed silver blocking my way. Though it’s a prison, the gaps between the bars are wide enough that I could slip through if I wanted to.

I reach my hand through the bars. The holy barrier, of course, doesn’t burn me but hums softly, accepting my touch.

“It’s better not to leave.”

The voice makes me pause. I withdraw my hand as if I had never reached out in the first place.

Beyond the bars, a pair of blue eyes, identical to mine, stare back at me. He wears his usual gentle smile, frozen on his face.

I pretend not to notice the emotions churning beneath the mask.

“François.”

I call his name simply, retracing my memories.

In the final moment, I failed to stop Louis and collapsed, but Louis didn’t kill me—he left. I want to believe it was out of Louis’s virtue, but… I can no longer be sure.

I still want to believe in you. But…

“How much time has passed?”

“It’s been three days since you woke up.”

Wanting to believe also means I no longer do.

When you wake from a delusional dream, only harsh reality remains. I believed in Louis. I convinced myself that Louis was different from other heretics, that he could be reformed, that we could be together.

Did I truly believe it? Or was I just desperate to be with you again?

“They say you would’ve died if you weren’t an Inquisition Judge. Even with the Order’s healers, you barely made it through several critical moments.”

My body has returned intact, with only faint traces of pain lingering. The power of the Holy Body played its part, but it also means I was treated with utmost care—far more than a sinner deserves.

It must be François’s doing. Yet, even after my greed led to this, I still couldn’t let go of my desires.

“…What about the child?”

That’s why I’m human, and that’s why it’s love.

I’m fine. I was hurt, I still am, and the pain is unbearable… but I didn’t die. I’ve endured this kind of pain before, haven’t I? I can hold myself together with these lies.

But the child, my child? A bitter taste seeps from my gnawed lips. A fetus is fragile. Superhuman traits aren’t inherited.

Early pregnancy. It doesn’t feel real yet, and I’m not fully aware of being a mother. Yet, as soon as I heard the diagnosis, I worried more about the child than myself.

“I don’t know.”

“…What?”

“From the start, the pregnancy was only a possibility, not a certainty. To be sure… we’ll have to wait.”

Is my belly growing, or is it still the same?

Without realizing it, my hand moves to my lower abdomen. A slim belly that makes it hard to believe I’m carrying life. Of course, it’s only natural. I haven’t known about the pregnancy for long, and aside from morning sickness, there are no other signs.

So maybe it was all a delusion. Maybe I dreamed it because I loved Louis so much, and there was never a pregnancy to begin with.

Thinking that way would surely ease my mind.

The mix of fear and excitement when I first heard the news, the light steps I took to share the good news with you, the small but firm resolve to be a better mother than my own parents.

Should I cry? Nothing is confirmed yet. Should I hold back my tears, waiting for cruel time to give me an answer?

My mind is in turmoil. In the end, I don’t cry. Instead, I quietly bury my face in my knees.

“……”

Silence falls. Even through the curtain of my hair, I can feel François’s gaze on me. He watches me quietly from beyond the bars. Crossing the bars would violate the Order’s rules…

…That’s why I don’t call you “Father.”

“Have you calmed down?”

“Yes.”

I haven’t. These aren’t emotions that can be easily settled. Still, I mimic the person across from me, donning a thin mask of ice, and lift my chin again.

There must still be things left to say. The words François has been putting off. The questions I haven’t asked. It’s been three days since I woke up. Louis—it’s so hard to attach that word to your name now.

Three days. If you, as a heretic, roamed freely without interference, it’s more than enough time for a catastrophe to unfold.

“Listen well, sinner Anne.”

François’s demeanor shifts. The mask he wears now is no longer that of a clumsy father or a soft-hearted cardinal. He is the herald and executor of the entire Order’s will.

Still reeling from the surge of emotions, I stagger to my knees, facing the bars. In this moment, François represents the entire Order, and as a member, I must show him the respect he deserves.

I should be grateful for François’s consideration. At least he gave me time to grasp the situation.

“Sinner Anne, tasked with the duty of eradicating heresy, not only failed to kill the heretic but also aided them, further inciting other lambs of the Order to help the heretic escape!”

A stern gaze falls upon me. I bow my head even lower.

“Does the sinner have anything to say in her defense?”

“…No.”

I believed Louis was different.

Louis was kind and obedient.

I wanted to be with Louis.

All excuses, all lies. The moment Louis became a heretic, the Louis I knew, believed in, and loved was slowly disappearing. Yet, I clung to that fading image, projecting it onto what was now gone.

If only the price of that foolishness had been mine alone to bear, if only I could have embraced it all and fallen into ruin by myself.

“Due to the heretic’s rampage, the Inquisition Temple of Dehen has been destroyed, and countless lives have been lost, with many more injured or displaced.”

The catastrophe I had anticipated crashes down on me.

Of course. The actions of heretics are always the same. Heretics kill and resurrect others to grow their power. Through the twisted worship of their followers, heretics amass great influence and wield powers closer to that of the gods.

Thus, the first thing a newly emerged heretic does is indiscriminately kill to create more followers. How many humans have been sacrificed under that merciless scythe? How many souls are suffering, unable to return to Ailim’s embrace?

“Sinner Anne, as an Inquisition Judge, had the ability to foresee and prevent the heretic’s rampage but chose to aid them instead, making her crime particularly heinous.”

Because of me.

“Therefore.”

Did I ask for too much?

All I wanted was to be with the person I loved. I was tired of the bloodshed and slaughter. I just wanted to live with you, laugh with you, bicker over trivial things. To fall asleep under the moon and wake up with the sun.

I wanted to fill my life with those ordinary days.

“First, sinner Anne’s merits and status are to be stripped. A hearing will follow to determine her sentence.”

I listen numbly as François drones on.

All of this is the will of the Order. There must have already been a meeting among the higher-ups before the hearing. The hearing is just a formality for final testimony. My fate has already been decided at a round table without me.

Cardinal François was there, so he must know the sentence awaiting me. The hearing won’t overturn it. And what that sentence will be, I can easily guess.

The fates of heretics, apostates, and the fallen are all the same.

François doesn’t cross the bars, but he’s close enough to touch. I could reach out and strangle him, push past the bars and escape the reformatory. The holy barrier wouldn’t stop me.

The only way I can survive is…

“Ah, ha, hahaha.”

My hand goes limp. I slump to the floor. Thud. The impact of my head hitting the ground isn’t too painful, but the cold sensation of my disheveled hair sticking to my cheek sends shivers down my spine.

Survive? With a body that doesn’t even know if it carries a child? Where could I go, opposing the entire Order? To Louis’s side?

Even if you still call yourself Louis, the Louis I love is the only one. And that’s not you.

The world I stood on has crumbled. Where can I go now?

“Yes. I understand…”

The bars of the cage are too loose, yet my folded wings won’t spread again.

As if tangled in an invisible spider’s web… The horizon, filled with light, inevitably casts a shadow where six red eyes laugh.