The cold air was filled with a sense of ancient history. His hand gently brushed the icy wall as Horner moved slowly, eventually sitting on a bench.
He felt very tired, tired as if he could sleep and never wake up again, but he knew clearly that there was still much he hadn't finished. He forced himself to lift his head, and then colorful light bathed his face.
Following the direction of that light's descent, in the warmth were colorful stained glass, depicting mythical landscapes, though covered with dust.
Saint Mary's Cathedral had few visitors now. The influence of the Evangelical Church on Ingwig was diminishing by the day. By now, even the church's na was barely rembered, referred to only by its pure white characteristic, the White Church.
Horner stared at that sunlight for a long ti until the dazzling light turned his vision pale white. Uncontrollable tears flowed from his eyes. Only then did he slowly turn his head, breathing steadily and enjoying the peace.
He ca from the Lower City District. Childhood was a distant and blurred affair for Horner. By the ti he had clear mories, he was already struggling on the streets of Old Dunling. Unfortunately, in the harsh environnt, Horner did not acquire the skill of reading people and situations, but instead beca even more taciturn.
Horner later learned the craft of repair from an old master, eventually becoming one of the countless repairn in Old Dunling. The city desperately needed people like him; steam pipes and machinery filled every corner of the city, with new faults appearing every day, requiring imdiate repair.
This taciturn repairman had never gone to school. In his worldview, he wasn't even sure what faith ant, but he didn't care. He liked it here very much. During breaks in his work, he ca here, finding respite from the chanical noises only here.
Yet the rare tranquility didn't last long. A man walked slowly from the cathedral's main doors, seeming very familiar with Horner, smiling as he approached him.
"Lawrence, ntor."
Horner stiffly raised his head, his gaze sowhat vacant, as if the soul within had long been lost in the blackness of his pupils.
Lawrence nodded, sitting beside him, still with that amiable deanor, like the light scattering through the church.
"It seems you're about to lose control over it."
Horner looked terrible. Although maintaining a human form, Lawrence knew well that sinful blood was rampaging within him at this mont.
Horner nodded, his movents as stiff as his personality, like a machine.
"So, do you need my help this ti?"
Horner nodded once again.
"I'm about to succeed, just one more person, my ntor."
The taciturn voice suddenly carried a hint of emotion. Horner seed to be smiling, his voice fluctuating.
"My justice is about to be done, about to be realized."
"But gifts co with a price, child. You have already asked for more than once."
Lawrence shook his head, looking troubled, but Horner quickly said.
"Then I'll give it all to you. Whatever you want, I'll give to you, offering myself to your God."
Horner's sturdy hand grabbed Lawrence's clothes, his eyes firm and urgent.
He looked at Horner helplessly, eventually letting out a long sigh.
"Yes, child, you're about to succeed."
Lawrence spoke gently, then injected the extracted potion into Horner's body. The potion coursed through his veins, soothing his tense body with its infusion, putting the restless beast to sleep once more.
Horner sat as if nothing had happened, staring dumbly at the forgotten church. His gaze penetrated mories, and after a long ti, he slowly said.
"ntor, I'm going to die, right?"
Lawrence was slightly taken aback, seemingly never having expected this taciturn person to utter such words.
"Yes, but your sacrifice will earn you a place in the Celestial Kingdom."
He described the beauty after death.
But Horner seed to have heard sothing amusing. He laughed, a glimr flickering in his dazed eyes, like the last glow of a dying soul.
"ntor, I never went to school. I can't even read. I don't even understand what your so-called Celestial Kingdom is."
Lawrence was once again at a loss for words. Horner turned to look at him, his ordinary face expressionless, yet inducing an indescribable sadness in Lawrence, like the silent despair of soone.
It's like describing the beauty of Old Dunling to soone. No matter how much you exaggerate, if they've never seen it, never experienced what so-called beauty is, then no matter how luxurious the reward, to Horner, it's rely an unknown never to be understood, not sothing he would rejoice over.
"I... I'm very ordinary. My master once said, my life has no aning, like a beast that wakes to go out hunting. When full, it returns to sleep, with no hobbies, no aspirations. Apart from prolonging life, everything I do is aningless, like a machine in a factory, repeating endlessly."
Horner seed to be speaking to Lawrence, or perhaps confessing to himself.
"My master said... there are only two kinds of people in the world: one stands on the stage, admired by the masses, while the other sits in the darkness under the stage, the aning of their existence rely witnessing another's grandeur; like the dark night, only the night can show the brilliance of stars."
As he spoke, tears flowed from Horner's eyes.
"I am one of the aningless ones... There are many people like in this world, diocre, achieving nothing, living unknown, then dying unknown."
Seemingly under imnse pressure, Lawrence rarely felt such emotions. From Horner's diocre form, a despair almost tangible emanated. He despaired of his own life, of everything about himself, but most despairingly, he was powerless.
"What exactly do you want to say?"
Lawrence was puzzled, having never seen Horner like this. To him, Horner was a taciturn rock, an easily controlled individual, yet now, this shell seed to have regained a soul, at the most dangerous mont.
"I just... I'm just very happy, ntor Lawrence."
Horner cried and then laughed, looking at ntor Lawrence, hugging him tightly, as if using this clumsy gesture to convey his gratitude.
"You're a devil, ntor Lawrence, even though you always say I'm right. But ultimately, taking another's life by such brutal ans is wrong."
Lawrence maintained a surface calm, but his other hand had already reached under his clothes, gripping the hilt of a short sword.
But the expected resistance didn't co. After embracing him, Horner sat back down, as if nothing had just happened. It was a very strange feeling. Lawrence looked at this ordinary man, soone so diocre that he would be lost in a crowd, yet for the first ti, felt he couldn't see through a person.
"But a devil, can also be a good devil."
Horner laughed again.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
"I want to say you're a bad person, through and through, a sinful devil, leading into a pit of no return with a bit of temptation."
Horner rebuked with a smile.
Recalling the person who illuminated his life, he said.
"But you are also a good person, ntor Lawrence. I sincerely thank you, thank you, this devil, for giving , this spectator, the chance to charge onto the stage."
"I was supposed to live aninglessly, then die aninglessly, but you gave the chance to beco aningful, to carry out my justice."
He stood up, imposing like a mountain.
"This is my final revenge, and it should also be the last ti we et."
"Actually, today I just wanted to say goodbye, hoping you wouldn't be afraid, as I rarely have opportunities to express my emotions."
Looking at the colorful sunlight, the warmth bathed him, dispelling the cold.
"The Divine Birthday is coming, isn't it? Unfortunately, I probably won't live to see it."
Horner lowered his head in slight regret, seriously saying to Lawrence.
"Then let wish you a happy Divine Birthday in advance, ntor Lawrence."
The ordinary soul seed truly alive at that mont, the smile through tear streaks shining with dark light, making Lawrence's heart tremble, finding it hard to face that ordinary face, as if facing the searing sun.
"You too..."
Lawrence murmured in response, watching his departure.
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