Chapter 73: The Day of Farewell

“What’s wrong, Miss Millia?” During dinner, I noticed Millia absentmindedly stirring the soup with her spoon, her brows tightly knitted, looking as if she had no heart for eating.

“Are you feeling unwell? Your appetite hasn’t seemed very good lately.”

My words drew Fred’s attention, and he asked with concern, “That’s right, Miss Millia. You’ve been looking very tired lately. Are you sick?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Millia replied. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been accompanying Mr. Fred to too many balls lately, so I’m a bit tired.”

Indeed, over the past few days, Millia had repeatedly appeared at all sorts of high-society gatherings as Fred’s companion, and had caused quite a stir. The wives and young misses of high society seemed to harbor a curiosity tinged with faint jealousy toward this beautiful woman who appeared beside the young military star of Delanmaya, while quite a few young gentlemen were deeply attracted to this cold beauty who never smiled easily, and would go up and pester her from time to time. Getting rid of these tedious troubles without making a scene was indeed quite an exhausting job.

“Is that so…” Fred wore a foolish, apologetic look. “I’m sorry, that was really my negligence.”

“How infuriating. Some people get to have fun and still complain about being tired. Not like us—we’ve been in Morning Light City for so long and haven’t even seen what a ball looks like. Right, Eliot?” Kelsey cut in half-jokingly and half-seriously, and her words won the support of the Dark Elf.

“Fred, when will you take us to see one too? Don’t keep clinging to Millia all day long.” Kelsey sidled up to Fred and begged.

“A pirate and a Dark Elf— they ’d be sure to scare those noble ladies into fainting. Just wait and see—the next day, word that a pirate gang had attacked a high-society gathering in Morning Light City would spread through every street and alley.” Red Flame whispered close to the ears of Poirot and me, which drew knowing smiles from us.

“That works then. Kelsey, please accompany me to the balls these next two days. Miss Millia, have a good rest for two days, and we’ll talk once you’ve recovered your spirits. Is that all right?” Fred asked Millia with concern.

“There’s no need to go to all that trouble.” Millia looked a bit flustered, as if she had something to say but didn’t know how to say it. “From now on… I can no longer accompany you to banquets and balls…”

At this point, Millia bit her lip, as if she was making a difficult decision. “I… am going to leave.”

“Leave? Where are you going?” Her words gave us all a great shock. Ever since the defensive battle of Kampnavia, for nearly a year now, this devout believer had voluntarily followed our army, taking on the important role of an army chaplain and a battlefield doctor, putting into practice her deeds of saving lives and spreading the faith. She had gone through the flames of war and disasters together with us. In our hearts, she was already one of us, and without anyone noticing, she had naturally drifted closer and closer to Fred. Now that she suddenly said she was leaving, how could that not be shocking?

“To Saint Daran City. His Excellency the Bishop heard about the results of my preaching in the army and wants to summon me.” Millia’s voice was not as calm as it used to be. Hidden deep in her eyes was a trace of wavering, as if it was conveying her conflicted feelings.

“Oh, so that’s how it is. This is really good news. I truly must congratulate you.” After hearing her explanation, Fred replied with a smile, and his expression looked even happier than after he himself had won a battle.

“You are the goddess of our army, Millia. You even saved my life.” Dakla laughed loudly. “I don’t know about others, but in my Heavy Infantry battalion, your reputation is far higher than mine.”

“Comparing a black gorilla like you, who only knows how to puff and glare, with Miss Millia is practically a blasphemy against everything beautiful in the world.” Riley joked about Dakla as he raised a cup of wine and said to Millia, “May your journey go smoothly, and may you return soon.”

Millia’s shoulders twitched slightly. She was silent for a long while, then said haltingly, “I… I won’t come back.”

“Won’t come back? What’s the matter?” Everyone was startled by her answer. Fred’s face suddenly turned pale. He asked urgently, and his voice unconsciously rose a great deal.

“It’s like this…” Millia composed herself. “His Excellency the Bishop is very satisfied with my work. This time when I go to Saint Daran City, besides accepting his summons, I also have to accept… I also have to accept the appointment as the Diocesan Saintess…”

Millia spoke very slowly, as if every word she forced out took all the strength in her body. Her words were like a hammer, striking heavily against the hearts of everyone present.

Diocesan Saintess—this was the position among the female believers of the temple of Daremoth second only to the Divine Envoy, and it was the symbol of the divine authority of the god Daremoth within a nation. As the faith with the widest following among believers, to this day, the vast majority of the more than seventy nations on the Farvill Continent had a Diocesan Saintess of Daremoth. In certain nations where religious power was strong, the status of the Diocesan Saintess was even higher than that of the King. Unlike ordinary believers and monks, a religious position as high as this meant forever departing from the troubles of the mortal world, being cut off from the world from then on, and being able to spend the rest of one’s life in loneliness between the god’s will and religious affairs. Only the most devout, the most steadfast female believers who had once made major contributions were qualified to become Diocesan Saintesses. Although there was no clear rule written in the doctrine, no one knew since when, the Diocesan Saintess had to be held by a young virgin. To the completely irrational logic of fanatical believers, it seemed that only a virgin could guarantee “dedicating everything of oneself to the god.” And the deadly thing was that this boring argument was actually revered as scripture by most people, becoming an unwritten rule.

“Last month, the Diocesan Saintess of the United Kingdom of Rostok passed away…” Millia continued in a low voice, as if she was explaining.

“Do you really have to go?” I couldn’t help asking.

“This is the greatest wish of my life. My faith has been affirmed,” Millia answered. At this moment, her usual calm tone was completely gone, and I doubted whether she herself believed what she was saying.

I looked toward Fred, and everyone looked toward Fred. Yes, they had never openly expressed anything. Most of their conversations were carried out in stiff, awkward honorifics, almost comparable to two diplomats. But that couldn’t stop us from understanding the feelings between them. My friend was too upright, and the beautiful monk was too composed—neither of them was good at hiding their feelings. The looks in their eyes when they talked, the tones of their voices, the blushes that would rise to their ears from time to time, and the awkward fidgeting when they tried to find something to say—they couldn’t hide these from even themselves, let alone from us who stood by as onlookers. Their romance had long since become a half-open topic of our laughter and gossip, and every time we brought it up, they would always hang a shy smile on the corners of their mouths and fall into an awkward silence, which was their way of showing tacit agreement. Yes, that was their way of expression—silent, solemn, shy, trusting, and with a bit of silliness.

These two were in love—of that there was no doubt. If there was one person qualified to ask Millia to stay, it was Fred.

“When… will you leave?” Fred drained a whole cup of red wine in large gulps and asked in a hoarse voice. When he said these words, Millia’s face twitched slightly—as if she had breathed a sigh of relief, yet she also seemed to carry boundless disappointment.

“Early tomorrow morning…”

“So soon?”

“I… received the news five days ago.”

No one spoke. The air in the silence was as heavy as lead, making it hard to breathe.

“What, won’t you congratulate me?” Millia tried hard to squeeze out a friendly smile. Her voice trembled, and the rims of her eyes were a little red.

“Congratulations. This is a tremendous honor. I believe you will become the best Diocesan Saintess.” Fred almost struggled to finish these words. His face was frighteningly pale, as if something had locked up the flow of his blood, as if a heavy hammer had crushed his lungs.

“Thank you…” After saying these two words, Millia turned to take her leave of us and left the tent, trying hard to maintain the bearing of a believer. Not far outside the tent, I saw her hurriedly cover her face with both hands.

“You’re just letting her go like that?” Suddenly, Kelsey jumped to her feet and demanded loudly. “Without saying anything at all, you’re just letting her go?”

“What else could I say? Was there something I should have said?” Apart from that time when Carlson had fallen in sacrifice, I had never heard Fred’s voice so low and heavy.

“At least you could have tried to ask her to stay!” Red Flame tried to stop Kelsey, but the furious female pirate broke free from her grasp.

“Why should I ask her to stay? If she has a chance to get far away from war, why should I keep her here? On the battlefield, I might die tomorrow. Why should I make her suffer the same pain because of my leaving?” Fred suddenly stood up, raised his voice, and said loudly. These words were not only for Kelsey, but also for us, and even more for himself.

“You fool—you don’t understand anything at all!” Kelsey bitterly threw down these words and left the tent without looking back.

Watching Kelsey leave, Fred stood there somewhat dazed on the spot. Only after a moment did he say to Red Flame, full of apology, “I’m sorry, Red Flame, I’m sorry. I’ve been too selfish.”

We understood his apology. Back then, it was he who had Red Flame invite Kelsey—who had already been far away from war—to come here. And now, he was again trying to keep Millia far away from war. Yes, he was selfish. But in matters of love, who wasn’t selfish?

“I don’t blame you, my friend. But I want to remind you: one day, you will find that you’ve made a wrong decision. Women are not as much in need of protection as you imagine. Sometimes, they are even stronger than we are. And these are things that you made me realize.” After saying this, Red Flame looked at Fred once, then left the tent. There was pity and regret in that look.

“I would rather be the only one to regret…” Watching Red Flame’s retreating figure, Fred let out a deep sigh…

We left Fred’s tent, leaving the silence to my friend. Everything should have ended this way. But in the instant I walked toward my own tent, I suddenly felt that I couldn’t just watch all this happen. Fred and Millia had the right to their happiness, didn’t they? Everything had originally been beautiful and harmonious, pointing from the very start toward that eagerly anticipated ending. If a sudden change hadn’t appeared, wouldn’t things have developed smoothly in a wonderful direction? Yes, if Fred and Millia gave up their right to fight for happiness, then at least I could give them a push from behind and help them strive for a tomorrow with hope.

I found Millia.

“I’m asking you to stay on Fred’s behalf, Millia.” I came straight to the point.

“Oh, why?”

“For a reason everyone is very clear about. Millia, don’t think we know nothing—I can see it even more clearly than you two yourselves do. I’ve come for the lifelong happiness of two of my friends—not just for Fred, but for you as well. I hope…” I paused for a moment, trying to find a more suitable word. “I hope you can reconsider the appointment as the Diocesan Saintess.”

Millia smiled and shook her head. At this moment, she seemed to have become once again that calm, noble monk she had been when we first met.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t stay.”

“Why?”

“Because of faith, Jeff. From the day I became sensible, I loved to play in front of the temple of the benevolent god. The monks and priests in the temple liked me and taught me to read the god’s scriptures. Those words were as beautiful as the clear spring water in the mountains, flowing through my young heart. I am devout, because I firmly believe that my devotion is right. When I was seven years old, I felt the god’s response during my prayers. Do you know, that is an unimaginable happiness. That feeling makes you warm, gives you confidence, and gives you strength. To become a believer, to spread the teachings of the benevolent god, and to pass this great happiness into the hearts of more people—this is my lifelong ideal. Now, my devotion has been affirmed, and I have the chance to practice my ideal even better. I don’t want to give up this opportunity.”

“I have always been lacking in faith. Even my respect for Shelumdoya, the God of Wealth, is entirely because of my love for the mortal world. I firmly believe that if we can’t even get a peaceful, healthy life in this mortal world we can pursue, then on what grounds do we believe in that ungraspable, god-given happiness? For a vague and illusory faith, giving up Fred, giving up the happiness you have now, and going to that… that… that damned country whose name I can’t even remember—do you think it’s worth it?” I argued with all my might.

“You’re right, Jeff. But I believe that holding fast to my faith is my greatest happiness,” Millia said. “Even if I need to make sacrifices for my faith, that is still my honor, and I am happy because of it.”

“What kind of person would be happy because of their own pain? This is simply absurd!” Even though I was still trying my best to argue, I knew that I couldn’t change Millia’s decision. Faith—that is something sacred and inviolable in a person’s heart. If the power of faith is strong enough, it is enough to cancel out all the truths and all the obvious facts in this world. What I hated most was that this thing called faith could only be divided by strength and weakness, but could never be judged by right or wrong.

“We always have to hold fast to something, don’t we?” Millia answered my doubt with a sentence she often said.

“It’s getting late. You should rest now, Jeff.”

“No, wait. Let me ask you one last question. If—if this time, the one who came to ask you to stay was not me, but Fred, would you change your mind?” I had made up my mind—if there was even the slightest possibility in Millia’s answer, I would bring Fred here. Even if I had to tie him up, I would drag him here and force him to ask Millia to stay.

Millia lowered her head, hesitated for a moment, and then answered firmly, “I would hesitate, and I would be sad, Jeff. But I would not change my mind…”

For me, this was a long night. But for the two people who were about to part forever, perhaps they wished this night would never pass. In a legendary novel I had once read, called The Epic of the Hero Knight, it was written: even if they cannot hold each other in their arms, feeling each other’s breath from a distance within sight is still a tremendous happiness for people who love each other. I didn’t know whether my friend felt this happiness at that moment.

The next morning, my eyes told me that during this night, what Fred had felt more was the pain before parting. He seemed to have not slept at all. He looked much haggard, his spirits were very low, and his gaze was somewhat disordered. Likewise, Millia’s condition was no better than his.

Meeting Millia’s steps, Fred walked forward. Like a true gentleman, he held Millia’s hand and helped her into the carriage waiting in the courtyard. If you looked carefully, you would notice that the hands of both of them were trembling. Fred’s thumb gently stroked the back of Millia’s hand, as if he was caressing the most precious gem in the world.

“Safe travels.” After helping Millia into the carriage, Fred withdrew his hand with the greatest reluctance and said through the carved window.

“You must take care of yourself too.” Millia stuck her face out of the carriage window. “I will pray before the god for your safety and happiness.”

“My safety is bound up with war. To pray for victory before Daremoth would be to defile the divine throne…” Fred struggled hard to restrain his emotions, even trying to make a light joke. But in the end, he still failed, because he couldn’t hold it in and finally said the words that followed:

“…And my happiness will, in a moment, travel far away with you…”

This was the most intimate sentence Fred had ever said to Millia in public. What made one’s heart ache was that these intimate words appeared at the final moment of farewell.

Millia did not respond to these words. She slowly moved her face back inside the window and drew down the curtain. A moment later, her voice, choked with sobs, came from inside the carriage:

“Set out…”

With a crack of the coachman’s whip, the carriage slowly began to move. The wheels let out heartbreaking “creak” sounds, laying line after line of wheel tracks toward that unknown distance.

Fred just stood there like that, watching the carriage gradually grow distant, not moving a single inch until it had disappeared from sight. Just as we were about to persuade him to leave, he suddenly knelt down on the ground, bent over, and, like a madman, gently kissed one of the wheel tracks left by the carriage, paying no attention at all to us standing by the side.

No one stopped this undignified behavior of his—it was almost only natural. But we would have preferred it if he had expressed his feelings in a more direct way from the very start. I didn’t mean to blame him—no one could criticize his noble motives. But the painful way he looked now made it very hard for me not to feel sorry for him and pity him.

Perhaps, for him, no matter where these wheel tracks pointed, in the end, what they always pointed to would still be that beautiful figure in his heart that he could never forget, never erase.