Chapter 211 “Blessing”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Upon recognizing the scene, Vanna, already wearied and disoriented, felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. Hurrying to the car, she saw an arm twitching out of the window, a sign that eased the anxious thumping in her chest.
“He’s still alive! Uncle Dante is still alive!”
With quick thinking, Vanna steadied the toppled car with one hand while prying open the crumpled door frame with the other. Once she had a clearer view, she assessed Dante’s condition. Satisfied he wasn’t in immediate danger, she carefully extracted him from the wreckage.
Dante’s voice, weak but discernible, reached her ears. “Ahhh… Vanna… You’ve returned…”
Without hesitation, Vanna replied, “Yes, I’m here,” too engrossed to ponder over the oddity of his words. She subconsciously clasped his hand, asking, “How are you feeling? Can you stand? We need to get to the cathedral…”
But Dante’s response was unexpected. “No… Don’t waste your efforts on a lost cause like me.” His grip tightened on her hand. “I should have foreseen this day coming… They will demand their dues… You need to escape Pland before they locate you… Find refuge where you remain unknown…”
Confusion and fear coursed through Vanna. “What are you talking about? Who’s after us? What debt are you talking about? Did you know something about what’s going on in the city?”
Struggling against his injuries, notably the blood flowing from where a ruby prosthetic eye once resided, Dante’s remaining natural eye dimly reflected the firelight from the chaos beyond Vanna’s protective barrier. “Ender Missionaries… and their dark subspace worship… Vanna, do the memories of the fire from eleven years ago still haunt you?”
Recollections of that tragic event caused Vanna to pause, her voice betraying disbelief. “You remember that inferno?”
Every day, that memory torments me,” Dante replied with a pained expression. “I hoped I could deceive myself forever.”
As Dante recounted the past, Vanna felt a whirlwind of emotions. Pushing aside her own fatigue, she fixated on her uncle’s rapidly clouding eyes, demanding, “What connection is there between subspace, the Ender Missionaries, and that fire? Why would they target me? What ‘debt’ are they claiming!?”
She regretted her harsh tone almost immediately, recognizing it as the one she’d use during interrogations. Yet Dante wasn’t an enemy. He was her family, the only kin she had for the past eleven years. She felt ashamed for treating him so coldly.
“As the flames roared during that fateful fire, I glimpsed into a mysterious realm beyond our own—a projection of subspace. As the perilous truth of that moment engulfed me, I desperately reached out to it, seeking a miracle.” Dante utters, blood coughing out from the corner of his mouth.
“You wished upon subspace?” Vanna’s eyes widened with shock as she regarded Dante, “What did you wish for?”
With a tremor in his voice, Dante confessed, “I wished that the tragedy had never occurred; I wished for a second chance for your life.”
Vanna’s features became taut with shock, her emotions momentarily paralyzed.
With tender sorrow etched on his face, Dante gazed at his niece, who stood transformed before him. Gently reaching out, he brushed aside a strand of her hair, murmuring, “My dear Vanna… How you’ve grown… I deeply regret my shortcomings that day… I failed to protect you…”
“But I have memories of you rescuing me from those flames…”
“Tragically, what I managed to pull out of that blaze was nothing but your ashes,” Dante whispered with a heavy heart. “In that split second, when tragedy unfolded, you were reduced to mere cinders… I was tormented, desperate to undo the calamity and restore what was lost. I pleaded for intervention—be it gods, demons, or even the vast expanse of subspace… And astonishingly, something heeded my call. Only much later did I fathom the profound nature of the force that had answered me that day…”
Dumbstruck, Vanna stared at her own hands, grappling with the revelation. She found it hard to digest that her very existence was not genuine—or at least not as she remembered it.
After what felt like hours, she finally whispered, “So, are you implying that I exist now thanks to a blessing from subspace?”
Dante hesitated, unable to find the right words to console her.
Taking a shaky breath, Vanna pressed on, seeking clarity, “How did I then become a chosen one—a saint? How could the Storm Goddess accept someone resurrected by subspace’s boon as one of her own devoted? She even endowed me with immense powers!”
“I… I truly don’t know,” Dante responded with a helpless shake of his head, “Perhaps only the goddess herself can shed light on this enigma…”
A heavy silence enveloped them as Vanna grappled with the earth-shattering revelations. The faith and principles that had guided her for years now lay in tatters. Confronted with the fact that her very being was an aberration, even a formidable woman like Vanna felt her resolve waver.
However, after what felt like an eternity, she rose, her voice determined yet laced with uncertainty, “Regardless, someone must thwart this encroachment of our reality. I must convey this knowledge back to our world.”
“Dante exclaimed with panic evident in his voice, “Vanna, if you stay, you will perish!” Desperation gripped him as he tried to rise from the debris-laden ground. “You must understand, the very fabric of this reality is tearing apart. You need to escape Pland, escape this illusion and let it fade from your memory. If you truly exist due to a gift from subspace, then attempting to rectify history might end your existence. Such complex paradoxes are beyond mere mortals to resolve…”
Yet Vanna, with an unyielding expression, gazed serenely at her uncle.
Determinedly, she voiced her thoughts, “Uncle, haven’t you always told me about your profound love for this city and its inhabitants?”
Tears threatened to spill from Dante’s eyes. Trying to compose himself, he stammered, “… Yes, Vanna, I love it deeply, which is why I’m resolved to share its fate. My future, whether it holds life or death, is something I have accepted. But you, you must leave…”
Cutting him off gently, Vanna replied, “I feel the same passion and attachment to this city. I’m prepared for whatever may come, just as you’ve raised me to be.”
Dante’s heart swelled with a mix of pride and sorrow as he looked at his niece. He realized that reasoning with her would be futile.
Resigning to the inevitable, Dante mustered his remaining strength to stand, using a nearby lamppost for support. “If that’s your decision,” he whispered, “then venture forth. I’ll remain here, patiently awaiting your return.”
Their eyes met. In Vanna’s memories, Dante always stood tall, an unyielding pillar of strength. Yet, now, ravaged by time and events, he appeared diminished, making her look down to meet his gaze.
Softly, with an earnest plea in her voice, she said, “If all turns out well, and the Pland we cherish finds its way back to the tangible realm… promise me, you won’t forget my existence.”
Overwhelmed by emotion, Dante simply nodded, unable to voice his feelings.
With a determined stride, Vanna prepared to leave, but an ominous tremor disrupted her path. Glancing towards its origin, she saw plumes of dust rise, signifying the crumble of another structure.
A wave of terror washed over Vanna, the likes of which she had never experienced before. Her heart raced as her eyes were drawn to the site where the cathedral once stood. Suddenly, an intense light, akin to a miniature sun, erupted, illuminating the surroundings and seemingly consuming all in its radius.
Yet, what had transpired was merely the tip of the iceberg; a more catastrophic event was unfolding.
A series of explosions resonated, each louder and more terrifying than the last. Shrill alarms pierced the air, accompanied by colossal fireballs that erupted and painted the night sky with their fiery embrace. They were originating from various sectors of the vast church complex.
The city’s bells, which had remained resolute and continuous even when engulfed in flames, had now, for the first time, been silenced!
A chilling void consumed Vanna’s thoughts. For a moment, her mind was paralyzed, unable to process the magnitude of the disaster. But instinct quickly took over, and without any deliberation, she found herself sprinting towards the epicenter of the calamity—the brilliant burst of illumination coming from the Storm Cathedral.
What a twist!
Duncan where are you? You need to save your soon-to-be wife!
What the fuckjng hell?
This people who put every single female character as the mc’s wife is really…ann*ying
Ikr. Especially in this book where u should put every female characters as mc’s potential adopted daughter
Definitely. Otherwise they wouldn’t be killing off their parents.
Well, I feel like in this case the author has at the very least been baiting it, with the whole three oaths where she can only marry someone stronger than her causing her to still be in a single situation being mentioned three times already.
wtf
Storm goddess is almost as useless as Aqua from Konosuba.
Well, like 90% of the gods in novels xd
Unlike Aqua, the goddess tries her best like the time she tried to do a miracle save with the forgotten guardian (didn’t work but still)