MPBAGS Chapter 23

Serious? He looked like a complete thug at first glance—all swagger and no substance—so where exactly was this "seriousness" coming from? Jelly strolled over with that characteristic lazy gait and stopped behind Evangeline. Then he spotted Daisy, the woman Evangeline had been talking to, and his eyes went round.

"Oh? You're...?"

Daisy recognized Jelly too, apparently. Her face went even paler.

"I—I should be going now."

Daisy backed away anxiously, then broke into a run. Raphaela called after her, bewildered by the sudden flight.

"Sister! We should go together!"

"It's fine! The carriage stand is right up ahead!"

The line of waiting carriages was indeed just around the corner. There didn't seem to be much point in accompanying her for such a short distance, so Raphaela let her go.

"She's gone."

Raphaela then turned to Evangeline Rohanson, claiming he'd guide her to the street, and deliberately put some distance between them. All his attention remained focused on what was happening behind him.

"Who? Oh, that girl earlier? Hmm... we helped each other out a bit?"

"No. I helped her. I got her out of there and we escaped together."

"The cleanup was handled neatly too."

Once again, Evangeline's words went unheard. The conversation was fragmented, but Raphaela managed to piece together the puzzle from what he'd caught.

The answer to the question he'd just asked Uriel had come back—from the man.

That man had helped Daisy escape from the convent. And the man was posing as Evangeline's guard.

Evangeline hadn't known about Daisy's existence. Meanwhile, Daisy already knew about both Evangeline and the spell formation. That's how she'd been able to recognize Father Berga's summoning circle. Yet it was Evangeline Rohanson's guard—someone who supposedly didn't know Daisy—who'd helped her escape.

Was his help purely his own initiative? But why was he at the convent? At that exact time? How did an outsider even get in?

Raphaela's mind spun into overdrive, thinking and theorizing, trying to calculate the most logical answer.

Just as his thoughts grew increasingly tangled, a loud commotion erupted from behind. Raphaela, who'd been straining to catch the conversation, was the first to notice the disturbance.

"Fire! There's a fire!"

"Knights! Someone come here!"

"No!"

Screams utterly unsuited to the calm, sacred atmosphere of the Grand Temple. Uriel was the first to run toward the noise without hesitation. Raphaela moved to follow, then stopped, looking at Evangeline and Jelly. ‘What should I do with these two? I can't just leave them here.’

"Let's go see."

Evangeline spoke, as if sensing Raphaela's dilemma. Raphaela nodded, then sprinted past them both. Fire? A fire? An eerie sense of déjà vu washed over him.

Raphaela ran frantically toward the screaming. When he arrived, he belatedly realized he knew this place all too well.

People were screaming in agony. No one was injured, yet their cries were sharp as knife cuts, erupting constantly. The screaming people were all staring at one thing. Raphaela joined their gaze.

It was the fire.

What was burning was Jim Nofedi's masterpiece—the painting of Donau Blue. The painting that depicted the aftermath of a fire was burning again.

Relief that no one was hurt mingled with creeping horror at the people screaming in harmony with the painting. Uriel, who'd arrived first, seemed to feel the same way. He stood staring at them, looking lost.

Then the tangled, agonized people spotted Raphaela. They crawled on their knees, dragged themselves across the floor, staggered on unsteady legs toward him.

"Sir Knight, please put out the fire."

"Sir Knight, the painting—the painting is burning."

Each voiced their own plea, but Raphaela could understand them all. Put out the fire in the painting. That was their only desire.

'Why should I?'

Did he really need to put it out? If the painting burned completely away, wouldn't these people return to normal?

That hypothesis held him in place. Uriel seemed to feel the same. While the two of them hesitated, footsteps approached from behind.

Was that Evangeline Rohanson? Before the thought could finish, Raphaela's vision filled with long golden hair.

"Michel?"

"What the hell—why is he here? We locked him in his room!"

Raphaela lunged to grab Michel, but the people clinging to his feet and legs, begging him to put out the fire, got in his way.

They saw the Pharalos Knights uniform Michel wore and made the same plea.

"Sir Knight, please save the painting!"

Raphaela knew instinctively that Michel would grant their request. Michel tore the burning painting down with his bare hands. He tried to smother the roaring flames with his palms, but far from extinguishing them, he was simply burning himself. You lunatic—doesn't it hurt?

Raphaela kicked people off. He shook them from his arms, kicked them away with his feet. He didn't want to hit people, but he couldn't stand watching Michel's madness any longer.

"Michel! Snap out of it! Drop that thing!"

The painting continued to burn. Less than half remained. Michel's skin blistered red and embers caught on his clothes. At this rate, Michel would burn to death with it. Raphaela dragged his feet forward, people still clinging to him.

"What in the world is happening here?"

Then an unnaturally clear voice came from behind. A corpse whispered in his ear. The heat vanished and cold swept in. Something vast pressed its gaze against Raphaela's back.

Evangeline Rohanson crossed the hellscape with ease. The people clinging to Raphaela went slack, staring at Evangeline Rohanson. Their moaning, their agonized screams—all stopped as if they'd never been.

They all froze, gazing at Evangeline as if their very souls had been captured. With no one to obstruct her, Evangeline Rohanson reached Michel without impediment.

Michel looked up at Evangeline while clutching the painting. And in that moment, Raphaela witnessed the birth of another fanatic.

A person of pure white. The only color that existed was red eyes burning like the flames on the painting. What did Michel see in those eyes when their gazes met? Longing, shock, awe, rapture—no adjective could encompass Michel's emotion.

Evangeline flicked her finger, and Jelly, reading her intention precisely, brought forth holy water. Evangeline Rohanson opened the bottle and poured water over Michel.

One bottle, two bottles—she continued until the flames subsided.

The fire that seemed ready to consume Michel stopped just that easily. In the silence, only the sound of falling water existed. Michel looked like a drowned rat. Water droplets formed at the tips of his soaked hair and fell to the ground.

Drenched in holy water, blinking, Michel soon lost all strength and collapsed.

"Sir Michel!"

Uriel rushed forward and caught Michel's falling body. For someone who'd fainted, his closed eyes looked strangely peaceful.

Evangeline took the painting fragment Michel had clutched until then. Almost entirely burned—only the spell formation remained.

Evangeline Rohanson tossed the soggy scrap of paper to Jelly.

"Here."

Watching him catch it skillfully made this whole situation feel surreal.

The others remained dazed. If they'd been crying or angry like before—if they'd shown any reaction—it wouldn't have felt so unreal.

"Since I used holy water, he shouldn't need separate treatment."

Evangeline, standing alone with composure, spoke matter-of-factly.

Wow... are these romance novel people's morals and ethics for real? I'm so exhausted I feel like all the energy has drained from my body.

Uriel suddenly bolted, and Raphaela gave me such an eager look that he wanted to follow, so I said let's go check it out—and he sprinted off at full speed.

Uriel and Raphaela ran so fast I couldn't even keep up, so I just walked in the direction Jelly told me. As expected, werewolves are canines too, so they've got a great sense of smell.

I walked as hard as I could with my nonexistent stamina, and found an absurd situation unfolding.

Wait, why is everyone just standing there watching instead of doing something about a person on fire? I felt like I was watching those onlookers who film with their phones for social media instead of calling for help when something happens. You guys don't even have phones!

When Donau's house burned before, everyone gathered to watch the fire—and now they're just watching even though a person is burning? What kind of people have no ethical awareness!

"What in the world is happening here?"

Seriously, what kind of situation is this? This is ridiculous! There's a fire! And it even spread to a person! This is bad. Where's a fire extinguisher? Oh wait, they probably don't have fire extinguishers here.

Then water—where's water? I only remember the fountain in the garden outside the temple. Is there water somewhere? I looked around frantically and spotted Jelly holding a water bottle. I wanted to shout eureka.

I hurriedly gestured and snatched the holy water bottle from Jelly. I pulled off the cap and poured. I wish it would gush out, but the opening was narrow so it just dribbled. What is this, a stream? Annoyed, I gestured again and Jelly smartly handed me an uncapped holy water bottle.

After pouring about six bottles of holy water, the flames died. Fortunately, since this isn't ordinary water, it seems to have excellent extinguishing effects too.

Whew... that was close. My tension released all at once. The person who'd been engulfed in flames just moments ago looked up at me, soaked. No... is this soaked? He looks like a completely drowned rat. Maybe because he's wet, he looked somehow pitiful. S-sorry! But getting doused with water is better than burning to death, right?

"Sir Michel!"

Apparently not. He fainted and collapsed, and Uriel barely caught him. Raphaela looked at me like I was some kind of thug. Hey, I put out the fire, so why are you glaring at me like that! Even Jelly looked at me like I'd hurt his feelings, so I quietly avoided his gaze.

This is so unfair. I didn't do anything wrong, but I'm being treated like a criminal, so out of sheer indignation I decided to be more brazenly self-righteous. You think I just poured water? This is holy water!

"Since I used holy water, he shouldn't need separate treatment."