The Damaged City

The wind from the north carried a foul stench as it blew toward the city center. The streets of Canfor were filled mostly with elderly people with physical disabilities; it had become difficult to see anyone from the younger generation in this town.

Canfor's economy had long since declined. Most wealthy merchants and powerful families had emigrated to other cities or countries, and with the loss of its upper class, Canfor had begun to be selectively ignored by the nation. Because of Rosa Kevin's Curse, vast stretches of farmland had withered away, becoming either uncultivatable or producing food tainted by the curse. Soldiers and officials used this as an excuse to withdraw from Canfor one after another. Before long, Canfor would likely truly die...

Fortunately, Canfor still retained some value as a city. As a key route leading to the Bikasoya Empire, many merchants and travelers often risked coming here to evade steep tariffs. Bandits and thieves were likewise quite happy to live here.

"This city really could die already..." Lansaina, a nun of the church, watched the citizens who had come to beg for holy water, her lips twitching unconsciously. "If those adventurers hadn't come to defeat the Demon King... perhaps our city wouldn't be so full of poverty and sin..."

Aislanna's voice was extremely soft, as though she feared being overheard. Yet ironically, the place where she distributed holy water was right beside the statues Canfor had once erected for the heroes who defeated the Demon King.

There were more than forty marble statues in total. To house them, the people of the city had deliberately set aside this space in the city center and built Hero Square. At the center of the square, where Aislanna stood, was the statue of the hero Ocast. The handsome, powerfully built young man held up the head of a giant serpent, looking majestic and imposing. Unfortunately, as time passed, these stone carvings lost their splendor, and even the great deed of slaying the Demon King had faded from people's memories.

"Sister Aislanna..." After the city residents received their holy water and dispersed, Fanafuna limped over from a corner of the square. She carried a palm-sized clay jar in her hand. "Sister, winter is almost here, and the Black Snow is falling harder and harder. Could you give me a little more holy water..." Fanafuna knelt on one knee and kissed Aislanna's left hand.

"As for holy water, this week's share has already been distributed. If you need more, please wait until next Sunday." Aislanna instructed the novices beside her and prepared to leave with the empty clay jar.

"Honored Sister, please have pity on someone like me. My body is crippled... my hands and feet are inconvenient, and I live very far away... Please, have pity on me..." As she spoke, Fanafuna fell to her knees. With her left hand, she tugged at Aislanna's hem, while with her right, she secretly slipped a handkerchief wrapped around silver coins into Aislanna's pocket.

"What a pitiful soul..." As usual, Aislanna helped Fanafuna up. She felt the silver coins in her pocket, her brow creasing slightly, but then she calmly said to the novices beside her, "This lamb longs for the Lord's blessing. We should bring her to share in the Lord's glory."

With that, she led Fanafuna to the nearest church. Canfor's districts and streets were chaotic, but that did not affect the scenery within the church. The domed church bore the symbol of the Otons Church—a cross enclosed by a semicircle. A statue of the Holy Father, made of crystal, stood before its doors, shining in a dazzling array of colors. Inside the church was a holy pool, from which the holy water normally given to citizens was drawn.

The holy water the church usually distributed to the people was a miracle produced after priests and nuns prayed and the High God responded. The holy water would automatically appear in the holy chalice the following morning, and the priests would draw it out and pour it into the holy pool for baptisms and purification.

However... as Rosa Kevin's curse spread, the church's holy water was far from enough for Canfor's residents. Even pouring it into the holy pool, diluting it, and distributing it among the people was only a drop in the bucket.

"The holy pool is ahead." Aislanna pushed open the church's heavy doors. Dozens of clergy members were kneeling on the ground, praying for the High God's blessing.

"May the High God watch over us." A priest hurried over to receive Fanafuna.

"Dear Father, my body is afflicted with many pains, but compared to my brother, they are not even a tenth as severe. Could you allow me to bring back some holy water so that he may experience our Lord's blessing?" With that, Fanafuna knelt down and lightly kissed the priest's shoes.

"My poor child, of course you may bring holy water back. It is the High God's blessing, and we should share it together." The priest helped Fanafuna up and led her toward the holy pool.

The clear, clean water carried a faint floral fragrance. Though the water in this holy pool had been diluted several times, it could still purify Rosa Kevin's Curse. Fanafuna took out her water jar and lowered it into the pool. As soon as a few drops of water splashed onto the tumor on her left leg, she immediately felt it shrink considerably.

"It really is holy water..." Fanafuna murmured.

Meanwhile, Aislanna, the nun who had brought Fanafuna into the church, shook the handkerchief in her pocket and handed it to an elderly nun praying nearby. Though the elderly nun was advanced in years, her eyes were still sharp. She tucked away the handkerchief Aislanna had given her, slowly rose, approached the priest, whispered a few words into his ear, then knelt again before the divine statue to pray.

"Thank you, Father. May the High God bless you." Fanafuna held the clay jar and was about to leave the church when the priest suddenly called out to her.

"My dear child, you should know that you are not the only one suffering in this world..." The priest snatched Fanafuna's clay jar from her hand. "You must learn gratitude and compassion..."

Splash—

The water in the clay jar was poured back into the holy pool.

"Father!" Fanafuna wanted to snatch back her clay jar, but when she looked at the nuns and monks around her, they had all stopped praying to the High God and were staring at her. Fanafuna could only kneel on the floor, her hands trembling as she prayed. "Our revered Father, your benevolence surpasses all others; even the morning sun of spring cannot compare to you. Please grant us a little of the High God's mercy... It is the only hope for people like us."

"My poor child..." The priest tossed the clay jar to Fanafuna. "This holy water is a gift the High God has bestowed upon you, but remember that there is too much suffering in this world. Show more compassion and give more of yourself."

Fanafuna held the clay jar. A third of its holy water remained. She let out a long sigh, stood, and thanked the priest. The priest smiled faintly, his expression full of kindness and solemnity.

"How much longer, Fanafuna..." Denolan looked at the oppressive clouds in the sky and spoke without thinking. A few black snowflakes drifted softly onto his clothes.

"Damn it! The Black Snow is coming again!" Denolan wrapped his clothes tighter around himself and rushed toward the stone temple ahead. This ancient stone temple was where he and Fanafuna had agreed to meet. Though it had been abandoned for a long time, it could still serve as temporary shelter from the wind.

The damaged stone house was constantly flooded by the north wind, and waves of icy chill pierced straight into Denolan's heart. Outside, a caravan made up of more than a dozen burly men was passing by. Through the cracks in the stone house, Denolan vaguely saw how they were dressed.

They were heavily clothed, with scarves tied around their heads instead of hats. Short knives and longswords hung from their waists. They looked distinctly unfriendly and were certainly not merchants who came here often. No one familiar with Canfor would travel under the Black Snow, yet every member of this group seemed energetic, with no intention of stopping to avoid Rosa Kevin's curse.

"They really aren't afraid of dying..." Denolan said from inside the stone house.

As the dark clouds slowly gathered overhead, a tiny snowflake drifted down. The caravan paid it no heed. The snowfall gradually intensified, and someone in the group noticed that the color of the snow was wrong. Snow elsewhere was colorless or white, but the snow here was dark brown.

"Boss, look, the snow here is blackish brown..." One of the men held out his hand to catch a snowflake. The moment the black snowflake landed in his palm, it vanished into nothing.

"Don't worry about it. We just need to deliver the goods to the designated location." The middle-aged man at the head of the group shouted, "We've already wasted too much time in Milrado. We need to hurry—" Before he could finish, he felt a sharp pain in his internal organs.

"What's happening..."

One after another, people in the group began showing symptoms. Tumors grew from their bodies, and blood began flowing from their noses and mouths... Dark brown snowflakes fell together with the blood of the caravan members. The land fell silent, and only after an hour did the Black Snow finally stop.

"It seems the Black Snow has ended..." Denolan peered outside through a crack. Thick green rotting soil covered the caravan's corpses. This soil was left behind after the Black Snow melted. It carried no curse, but it was somewhat toxic. Anyone who ate food contaminated by it would suffer intense hallucinations, while plants grown in it would carry Rosa Kevin's curse, causing mutations and illness in those who consumed them.

The corpse belonged to a middle-aged man. He was fat and dressed lavishly, with a beautiful gemstone ring on each of his right index and ring fingers. Though the gems in the two rings were different colors, both were high-grade elemental gemstones refined from Dragon Blood.

The corpse belonged to a middle-aged man. He was fat and dressed lavishly, with a beautiful gemstone ring on each of his right index and ring fingers. Though the gems in the two rings were different colors, both were high-grade elemental gemstones refined from dragon blood.

"Who was this guy?" Denolan removed the two rings from the corpse. With the discerning eye he had developed over the past few years, he knew very well that anyone who could wear such precious gemstones was no ordinary person. He turned the body over and searched it carefully again, finding a parchment scroll and a large bag of gold coins meant for travel expenses.

"Boss, there are corpses ahead—" A group's voices came from the direction of Canfor, followed by the neighing of warhorses.

"Damn... someone's coming!" In his panic, Denolan hid the parchment scroll in his boot. He concealed one gemstone ring in his clothes, put the other in his mouth, and hid back inside the house.

"These people appear to have died from the curse brought by the Black Snow... They were probably a caravan." The leader was a young man with an amulet made from red agate hanging from his chest. He grasped the agate amulet, murmured a brief prayer, and then looked at the people lying on the ground.

"Search them and see if they have anything valuable. Be careful not to catch Rosa Kevin's Curse."

Through the crack in the stone wall, Denolan clearly saw a group of bandits strip the caravan members naked and search them, determined to squeeze every last bit of value from the dead.

"It's been so long, and Tiadam's nasty habits are still as bad as ever..." Denolan recognized the bandit leader. His name was Tiadam, a brigand entrenched in Canfor who survived by robbing caravans traveling near several neighboring cities.

Though he was a bandit, Denolan did not have a bad impression of him. Tiadam would occasionally sell the food he stole to Canfor's residents at prices below the market rate. Denolan had once bought flour from him.

"Boss, it looks like someone has already gone through this corpse." A lackey called out after examining the middle-aged man's body.

"Is that so?" Tiadam dismounted and examined the area. Pointing at the stone temple where Denolan hid, he said, "There's nowhere nearby to hide. If someone found the good stuff before us, they must be hiding in there." As soon as Tiadam finished speaking, his lackeys rushed toward the stone house where Denolan was hiding.

Seeing the bandits closing in, Denolan opened the bag of gold coins he had found earlier and placed it in full view behind the door. Then he knelt there, waiting for Tiadam's arrival. However, he had no intention of handing over the rings hidden in his clothes and mouth.

Just as Denolan had guessed, the bandits' greed for gold far surpassed their interest in him. Dozens of glittering gold coins immediately seized their attention. Ignoring Denolan kneeling nearby, the bandits began fighting among themselves over the coins.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Tiadam kicked the doorway, and only then did the bandits stop fighting.

"It's just a bag of gold coins. Is it worth turning on each other?" Tiadam snatched the bag of coins. "I guarantee every brother here will get gold, but I'll divide the coins when we get back! That way, you won't start fighting again!"

"Thank you, Boss!" the lackeys shouted in unison.

"What should we do with this kid?" One of the bandits kicked Denolan, who was kneeling nearby. "He put the gold there."

"Is that so?" Tiadam lifted Denolan's face with his left hand. "Brat, you look a little familiar. It really isn't easy to find someone as pretty and clever as you in a place like Canfor." Tiadam's right hand reached for Denolan's clothes, searching him inch by inch from top to bottom.

Denolan said nothing in response to Tiadam's actions. He knew the gemstone ring in his clothes was impossible to keep. Fortunately, he still had another ring hidden in his mouth.

"Hm! Let's see what I found..." Tiadam pulled the dragon-blood gemstone ring from Denolan's clothes and tossed it to the nearest lackey.

"Could this... be a magic ring... made from dragon blood..." Among Tiadam's lackeys were people who understood the market for magical items.

"A gemstone with such purity... I've never seen one before..." The lackey's hands shook continuously. He looked even more excited than if he had found a bag of gold on the ground.

"Is that so? Then how much can this ring sell for?" Tiadam remained calm, his right hand still searching Denolan's clothes in an attempt to find something more valuable.

"If someone can afford it... this one ring would be worth at least three thousand Kralimaya Gold Coins..." The lackey's voice trembled as he spoke.

"Th-three thousand..." Upon hearing the ring's value, Tiadam's hand stopped. He stammered, "A gemstone ring alone is worth that much... We really struck gold today... At that price, forget Canfor—even in the royal capital, it could buy dozens of acres of fertile land."

Yet when Tiadam looked at Denolan, he calmed down again. He began calculating in his heart. Even after such a treasure worth thousands of gold coins had been taken from him, the boy before him had shown no reaction at all—not even uttering a single word.

"This kid?" Tiadam curiously leaned closer to Denolan. His golden short hair carried a faint scent of bread and butter. Tiadam's left hand stroked Denolan's short hair while his right hand reached deeper. The lackeys around them tactfully left the shack and closed its door behind them.

An hour later, Tiadam opened the shack's door looking refreshed, the dragon-blood ring he had pried from Denolan's mouth tucked into his chest. Having lost his most precious treasures, Denolan could only lean in a corner of the stone temple with a complicated expression.

"This gold coin is your reward!" Tiadam took a coin from the earlier bag and tossed it to Denolan. Then he lifted Denolan's face and said, "If you find any good stuff next time, remember to let me know, brother!"

"Oh, good brother..."

"If Yalila finds out, then..."

"Shh, that's the boss's private business. Stop talking. Keep it up and the boss will chop your head off."

"What are you whispering about?" Tiadam glared at the two muttering lackeys. "If any of you tell Yalila about what happened today, I'll cut off his head immediately!"

"Understood—" the lackeys shouted together.

"Good! Brothers, no hunting today. We're heading back!" With that, Tiadam spurred his horse and rode toward Canfor's outer city. Only after the several dozen bandits had left did Denolan emerge from the shack, clutching his head.

"Um, Denolan... what happened here?" Fanafuna, who had finished drawing holy water from the church, stood by the road and asked. Naked corpses lay all around them.

"Well... I... Fanafuna... let me explain..."

"It's fine... I was just a little surprised... You seemed rather familiar... with a bandit like Tiadam..."

"Fanafuna, it's not what you think!"

"You don't need to explain... I was standing under that tree the whole time. I never left from the moment Tiadam went inside."

"I'm not familiar with a bandit like Tiadam..."

"I know you didn't kill anyone," Fanafuna said coldly. "You were merely forced by the circumstances..."

"I..." Denolan had nothing to say. He could only stand dumbly before the temple.

"Let's go—we still need to reach the inn at the crossroads before nightfall." Fanafuna spoke absentmindedly.

"Okay..." Denolan replied.

By then, the sky had completely darkened, and a heavy snowfall was about to arrive.