Chapter 3: The Holy Festival’s Saint and Devil
Chapter 3: The Holy Festival’s Saint and Devil
The Holy Festival originated one thousand years ago, after the sudden collapse of the European Empire, when a saint appeared in a world ravaged by chaos. She guided the people and worked many miracles in a world without order. To praise that saint, every nation on the European continent held a festival at the end of the year. The festival was to welcome in a happy new year as the old year ended. People prayed in churches and enjoyed modest feasts at home. And... As winter neared, a woman came to Organbaelz.
“Um, excuse me?”
She had a strong accent that made people from the rural areas wonder about her origins.
“Yes, may I help you?”
However, the waitress in the shop did not look suspiciously at the visitor. She welcomed her with a perfect sales smile as if pleased at a reunion with an old friend.
“I’m Mary Clarissa. Mr. Wazkane arranged for me to come here for research.”
The woman, Mary, introduced herself and bowed deeply with anxious politeness.
“Mr. Wazkane?”
The waitress silently repeated the name that Mary had given. The waitress was a pretty girl. Without a doubt, she was a beautiful young woman. Her smooth silver hair and red eyes, which shone like jewels, were particularly impressive.
“Um, are you Sven by any chance? You’re as lovely as I’ve heard.”
“As you’ve heard? You know my name?”
Then Sven remembered the name Wazkane.
“Oh, in the public relations section!”
It was the name of a regional government official in Pelfe she had met during the airship incident.
“Yes. I asked Mr. Wazkane if there was anybody who might provide information, and he mentioned this shop.”
“Oh... sorry. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
The woman mentioned prior arrangements, but since Sven didn’t know why Mary had come, she was unsure how to help her. Nonetheless, Sven was a skilled and personable waitress. Even if Mary hadn’t come to buy bread, Sven thought it was only right to welcome her.
“Please, come in.”
Sven politely invited Mary inside Tockerbrot Bakery.
Mary Clarissa was twenty years old. She was a grown woman, but her appearance was dowdy. Her hair was messy, she was wearing glasses with spirals on the lenses, and her cheeks were round and freckled. She was dressed in an old sweater and shabby canvas shoes. To be honest, they looked a little dirty. If she had been sitting at the side of the road with an empty can in front of her, rich people passing by would have tossed in change.
“I’m a writer from Greyten.”
Tockerbrot had a dining area for enjoying light meals. As she spoke, Mary sat on one of the chairs and drank hot tea prepared by Sven.
“A writer... Let’s see...”
“Yes. I do most things that involve writing words and crafting sentences.”
“Oh, I see.”
Sven thought Mary spoke awkwardly for someone whose trade was in words. Perhaps Mary sensed Sven’s thoughts, because she offered an explanation herself.
“Tee hee! I don’t come this way often, so I don’t really know the language. Is my accent strong?”
“No, no! Not at all! It’s just a little distinctive.”
Sven answered with a wry smile. Mary’s accent was very strong, but that was understandable since she came from Greyten.
“But I speak properly in Greytenese!”
“Yes, I’m sure you do.”
Sven sincerely agreed with Mary.
The Greyten Empire had once been prosperous and known as the Land of the Never Setting Sun. It was still one of the largest nations. A few hundred years ago, however, the European countries treated Greyten as a rustic backwater.
Britniss was the area in Greyten where the capital was located, and was fairly developed. But in Olz, an area even Greytenites considered remote countryside, the national language wasn’t recognized. Someone born in Olz would have to learn the standard language of Greyten, then acquire the common language of Wiltia, which was also used in Pelfe. So it was impressive that Mary’s accent wasn’t stronger.
“Anyway, what brings you to our shop?”
“Well, I’m collecting material on Organbaelz.”
Mary explained that she was a magazine reporter researching lifestyles in Pelfe since the annexation by Wiltia.
“I hear problems remain throughout Pelfe.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Sven agreed with a heavy voice.
Since the annexation, Wiltia had not followed a policy of oppression and abuse toward the people living in the former Pelfe region. However, differences and tensions between the two peoples—the victors who swallowed a neighboring territory, and the defeated who were swallowed without a fight—were unavoidable.
“I’ve heard that many of the people abandoned their traditional Pelfe family names for new Wiltian names.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, too. People say it’s easier to get a job and go to school that way.”
This shouldn’t have been necessary. In fact, the Wiltian government and the regional government in Pelfe had established fair hiring laws, which covered Wiltians and Pelfians. However, if it was necessary to establish such laws, then there were people who would break them.
“Many people try to handle things better, but...”
Since Sven had come here, she had seen many sad and angry Pelfians. The collapse of one country wasn’t a small matter for its people.
“Yes. I want to hear about them.”
Mary spoke brightly, in contrast to Sven’s growing darkness.
“I came here because I heard this shop has good relations with the local people.”
Simply relating a tragedy is an easy way to get attention. However, finding even small hope within the story would make Mary’s article meaningful.
“May I do research here at your shop?”
When Mary broached her main purpose, someone poked his face in from the back of the shop.
“Sven? Who’s there?”
It was Lud, the shop’s owner.
“..................”
Mary froze when she saw Lud’s face.
“Yiiikes!”
She screamed and flipped over, chair and all.
“M-Mary? What’s the matter?”
As Sven anxiously asked, Mary ducked under the table to hide from Lud.
“This is all I have! So please! Just let me go!”
Her hands shook as she tossed out her wallet.
“J-Just leave me enough for transportation back to the Greyten Embassy!”
She was ready to hand over everything but her lifeline as a foreign traveler.
“No, um... sorry.”
Lud lowered his head to apologize.
His face was frightening. To describe how scary it was, even the people in Organbaelz, who were growing used to him, would collapse in fear if they encountered him on the street at night. Winter had come and the sun was setting early. Just the other day, Lud made a grown man fall flat.
“I thought someone I knew had come in. Sorry.”
Although Lud had a terrifying face, most of his friends didn’t cringe at the sight of him. He had overheard Sven and Mary’s conversation as he was working in the oven room, and since it didn’t sound like her usual chitchat with customers, he assumed it was a regular visitor like Marlene or Jacob.
“Let’s see... I’m Lud Langart, Tockerbrot’s owner.”
“Y-Yiiiiikes!”
Lud introduced himself again, but Mary was still frightened and wouldn’t look at him.
“M-Master? Don’t take it too hard. It just takes a little getting used to.”
Sven was a deeply devoted and affectionate waitress, so she desperately tried to reassure Lud, but his shoulders drooped and he looked depressed.
SIGH...
“This is why they chose me to be the Devil this year,” he mumbled dispiritedly.
“Devil? What do you mean?”
At the word “devil,” Mary regained her composure. However, she still avoided looking at Lud.
“Well, um...”
Sven began to explain. The invitation had come one week ago... Tockerbrot’s business hours had ended and the “CLOSED” sign was hanging up when Marlene visited from the church atop the hill.
“What do you want? I’m not offering you tea!”
“As usual, you really have an attitude!”
Many noncustomers, such as Jacob and Milly, regularly visited Tockerbrot. The brief period after closing the shop was the only time Sven could be alone with Lud. Sven was open in her irritation at Marlene’s interruption.
“There’s something I can only discuss with him now. I don’t need tea, but could you get Lud?”
“What’s the matter, Marlene?”
Lud came in after cleaning the oven room.
“I have a small favor to ask of you. Actually, of both of you.”
“Both of us?”
Sven looked puzzled hearing that Marlene had come not just for Lud, but for her too.
“Yes. Were you aware that the Holy Festival is coming up?”
“Yeah, I guess it’s about that time.”
Snow had already accumulated around town and the surrounding mountains grew whiter by the day.
“The end of the year is almost here.”
“Time sure does fly!”
Sven and Lud traded observations that had been uttered millions of times since human beings devised the calendar.
“That’s right. I want Lud to bake sweets to give to the children at the Holy Festival. His Maple Autumns at the Thanksgiving Festival were very popular.”
The townsfolk had asked Lud to bake sweetbreads for the Thanksgiving Festival. He had baked Maple Autumns in the shape of a horseshoe, which was a symbol of good luck. That special bread, with sweet maple jam inside, had sold out in no time. People had raved about it, saying they looked forward to eating it again next year.
“That...”
Lud’s face tensed. If people who didn’t know him had seen that face, they would have thought he was about to yell, “That’s a pain in the butt! Go ask someone else!”
However, that wasn’t what happened.
“Of course, I’ll do it! Please! Let me do it!!”
In excited tones, he accepted and looked ready to hug Marlene.
“What should I make? Krantz or liqueur cake? Or, since it’s the Holy Festival, something beautiful to look at? How about pamier?”
Lud had exceptional skills as a baker, and as a confectioner. Both required using flour, sugar, fresh cream and butter. The two were like relatives.
“I see... The children at the Holy Festival are going to eat my sweets!”
Lud looked happy and deeply moved.
This kind and gentle baker was happiest when he saw the smiles of the people who ate the bread and sweets he baked. This pleased him more than anything else. And on this special day that only came once a year, something he baked would help enliven the atmosphere. In a way, this was a Holy Festival gift for him.
“Um, Lud? To tell the truth, that wasn’t the only thing I wanted to ask you.”
“Oh?”
Marlene made a face as if she had something difficult to say.
“What’s wrong? You sound like you’re holding something back.”
“Well...”
Eventually, Marlene answered Sven’s question.
“I want you two to wear costumes at the Holy Festival.”
The Holy Festival was widely celebrated in the European nations. Prayers and hymns were offered at church. At home, people offered thanks for the past year, prayed for a good year to come, and celebrated with a modest feast.
The celebration was more than religious. It was a lingering manifestation of regional beliefs. Even the August Federation, which officially forbade religion, celebrated the Holy Festival at home. That’s how special it was. However, even within the same culture, customs differed by region.
“I guess Lud doesn’t know about Pelfe’s... Or rather Organbaelz’s Holy Festival.”
Lud had lived in Organbaelz just over two years. The Holy Festival had been held the year before, but Lud hadn’t blended with the townsfolk yet and they had rejected him as a suspicious and frightening baker.
“Last year, I spent the day quietly alone in the shop. I don’t really know the particulars of how people celebrate it.”
“Master, you recall sad memories so casually.”
Next to him, Sven had tears in her eyes.
“I’ve heard a White Old Man visits homes to give gifts to children during the Holy Festival.”
Lud was born and raised in Berun, the capital of Wiltia. In Berun, a large old man with a white beard was beloved by children.
“Is it different in Pelfe?”
“Let’s see... Instead of the White Old Man, the Saint visits.”
“The Saint... I see...”
After hearing that, Sven made a face of sudden understanding.
“I bet you want me to disguise myself as the Saint!”
In Wiltia and Pelfe, the character who visited homes was different, but they needed someone in a disguise to dispense gifts.
“Yes. And the town council decided the most suitable person would be... you.”
Marlene was a nun at the local church, and while its finances had improved, money was still tight. Since part of the church’s budget was covered by donations from the townsfolk, they often asked her to serve on executive committees for local events in return. So she was looking for volunteers to disguise themselves and visit houses during the Holy Festival.
“The Saint has silver hair and wears a white dress. So you’re perfect, aren’t you?”
“Hmm... Should I do it?”
Sven assumed an air of importance.
“Please! Lend a hand for the children’s sake! They would recognize me!”
“Huh?”
Sven didn’t understand Marlene’s point.
“The children at my orphanage... Not the older kids, but the little ones... They believe in the Saint of the Holy Festival.”
In European nations where the Holy Festival was celebrated, mischievous kids were all told the same thing around this time of year.
“The Saint doesn’t visit naughty children.”
However, the reality in most households was, whether children were good or bad, their parents—rather than a saint—put presents by their children’s beds while they slept.
“They don’t have someone to put out presents for them, so they think it doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad because the Saint won’t visit them anyway. Isn’t that sad?”
No one came, no matter how good they were. The problem wasn’t whether they received presents or not. The thought that no one in this world cared about them could scar their hearts.
“Hmm... Since you tell me that, it’s difficult to refuse. Well, then I guess I’ll accept!”
“Really? Thank you!”
Marlene clasped Sven’s hands, pleased to have accomplished her task. Or rather, pleased that she would be able to make the children happy.
“Oh my!”
And Sven wasn’t unhappy to see Marlene’s joy. The two women usually glared jealously at each other over Lud, but perhaps that was precisely why a complicated friendship had arisen between them.
During a previous incident, Sven had disappeared from Organbaelz. When Lud and the others had left to recapture her, Marlene watched over the shop. And when Sven returned, Marlene had hugged her in tears. Given that, there was no way Sven could refuse to do her a favor.
“And I need one more helper.”
Again, Marlene looked as if she had something difficult to say.
She was staring at Lud.
“Am I involved, too?”
Sensing the meaning of her stare, Lud sounded suspicious, and Marlene nodded apologetically.
“But isn’t the Saint supposed to be a woman?”
Needless to say, Lud was a man. If it was necessary to dress as a woman, someone else would be more appropriate.
“No, that’s not what I meant. At the Holy Festival in Organbaelz, the Devil visits in addition to the Saint.”
“The Devil?”
Marlene continued speaking to Lud, who looked stunned.
“Yes. That’s the difference here. In addition to the Saint coming on the night of the Holy Festival... the Devil comes to snatch bad children.”
Around Pelfe, there was a tradition that on the holy night, a saint would appear to guide the righteous and visit doom upon the wicked. Based on that, a custom had developed on the night of the Holy Festival, when good children received gifts and bad children faced the threat of being stuffed in an old sack and taken to Hell.
“That sounds exactly like Namahage in the East!”
An island nation had a similar custom of adults wearing demonic masks, threatening children by asking if they had been bad—even making them cry—and warning them not to misbehave.
“And, um... the townsfolk said Lud would be the perfect devil.”
Marlene was deeply apologetic. Her request was like telling Lud to his face that he looked like a devil. And Lud already worried about the way he looked.
“Um, you can say no! I’m so sorry!”
Marlene tried to apologize, but Lud silently stopped her by raising a hand.
“No... I’ll do it.”
Then he tightened his hand into a fist.
“After all, it’ll make everyone smile!!”
To be honest, it was a little... No, it was very painful. He would feel like he was being mocked for his scary face, which he already worried about. However, the townsfolk were expecting it. And the children were looking forward to it. Compared to those realities, his discomfort was inconsequential.
“Even if I’m there as the Devil, at least I can participate in the Holy Festival. That’s much better than last year!”
“Master... Poor you...”
Lud’s touching resolution moved his loyal servant Sven to tears. Marlene was happy and relieved.
“Really? Thank you! This is a huge help! Now I can set a good example for the children!”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, kids these days are so skeptical. They don’t believe in either the Saint or the Devil!”
During a revolution in industry, railways had connected continents, aircraft had taken to the skies, and huge vessels were sailing the seas. Now it was an age when humanoid assault weapons stalked the battlefield. Only a few children wholeheartedly believed in traditions the way they did one or two hundred years ago.
“If you say, ‘Do as I say or the Devil will take you away,’ they laugh scornfully. So I thought I should stake my adult dignity on doing something about it!”
“Were you planning this from the beginning?”
Sven looked suspicious.
“Well... we all have our reasons.”
Marlene laughed mischievously as she answered. So it was decided that Tockerbrot would provide both sweets for the Holy Festival and staff disguised as the Saint and the Devil.
Back in the present inside Tockerbrot...
“Anyway, that’s the situation.”
“I see...”
After hearing Sven’s explanation, Mary answered with mixed feelings.
“But surely...”
Mary glanced at Lud’s face.
“...His face really is perfect for the Devil!”
It was easy to believe from a woman who had cried and toppled over at the first sight of him.
“Please, don’t mention that again.”
Sven chose her words carefully, since Lud’s ferocious looks were difficult to deny. Listening to this conversation, Lud’s shoulders drooped even further.
“That’s why the shop is really busy right now. I’m sorry, but we can’t pay much attention to you.”
Mary came to Tockerbrot to collect information for an article and Sven had actually wanted to refuse her request because they were so busy. But their guest had come all the way from Greyten, so it would be cruel to send her back.
“That’s all right. I’ll follow you around on my own. Pretend I don’t even exist!”
Mary understood and answered Sven accordingly.
Jacob, a regular customer and Lud’s much younger friend, often visited Tockerbrot, and came in as they were making preparations for the Holy Festival.
“Hello, how are— Huh? Who’s this?”
“Oh, don’t mind me!”
Jacob was looking at Mary as she sat at one of the shop tables doing research.
“Oh, Jacob! This is a reporter.”
Mary was collecting information on Tockerbrot as Lud and Sven went about their regular business. Since the bakery was so busy, she simply observed them.
“Wow... You guys sure are involved in a lot at once!”
After hearing the situation from Sven, the boy’s comment suggested either understanding or a lack of it.
“Is Lud here? I have something for him.”
“Um, Master is... Let’s see...”
Sven made an uncomfortable face.
“Is he?”
“Let’s see...”
“Isn’t he?”
“Um...”
Jacob asked again, but Sven looked away.
Lud was working in the oven room. However, he was making sweets to give out at the Holy Festival. Lud and Sven had agreed to disguise themselves and hand out sweets to the children. If Jacob saw the oven room, he would find out that the Saint and Devil were his friends in disguise—and Jacob was still a child. So Sven looked uncomfortable as she tried not to answer Jacob’s question.
“Huh? I came all the way here because he said there’s something he needs in order to make the sweets to give out in his costume at the Holy Festival!”
“What?!”
However, this child’s answer was exceedingly unfanciful.
“Um... Jacob? You know all about it?”
“About what? About you being the Saint this year? I think you’re perfect for it! Good luck!”
“What?!”
In spite of attempts by adults to make the children believe in the traditional story, some children remained thoroughly down-to-earth.
“Oops... is it bad I don’t believe in the Saint and the Devil?”
“It’s not bad, but... How should I put it? I just feel... deflated.”
When Marlene had visited the day before, she had purposely come after closing time so children wouldn’t hear their conversation.
“It can’t be helped. Children don’t seriously believe in the Saint and Devil these days. Well, maybe younger kids do.”
“Oh... okay.”
Not only did Jacob not believe in it himself, he was trying to console her.
Kids these days are less naïve than I thought!
Sven couldn’t help but heave a sigh.
“The Saint, the Devil and the White Old Man? They don’t exist.”
“Oh.”
Sven was troubled as she answered Jacob, who looked amazed.
“Because it’s really a man dressed in red who visits!”
“Huh?!”
The boy’s statement was unexpected.
“Isn’t it a man in red who comes on Holy Festival night? After even the adults have gone to sleep, in the middle of the night, he creeps in through the window! I’ve seen him!”
“Uh... Jacob?”
The boy was suggesting a completely new take on the festival and claimed to have witnessed it himself.
“I saw him once about five years ago. It was a middle-aged guy wearing a red outfit. He gave me a bunch of stuff and said, ‘Don’t tell your mom. All right, dude?’”
“Huh? What? That’s...”
The way Jacob told it, the “middle-aged man” sounded a bit younger.
“But the gifts were weird. Inside the bag, I found chocolates and biscuits, and some change and wrinkly bills, and cigarettes, a whisky flask and magazines with pictures of girls in swimsuits.”
“What the heck?”
The gifts were like a list of the private items a soldier was permitted to bring to the military.
“Oh...”
After hearing this from Jacob, someone sprang to Sven’s mind.
Jacob’s father had mysteriously disappeared. He was the legendary ace pilot Major Blitzdonner, whose reputation even surpassed her master Lud. He had painted his favorite machine red and he usually dressed all in red, too.
“No way...”
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh, um... It’s nothing!”
It was hard to imagine that the missing ace pilot would come all the way to this rural town deep in the mountains to give gifts to his son.
It would only confuse Jacob if I told him that.
Svelgen Avei was a humanoid Hunter Unit with feelings and thoughts very like a human being’s. At this moment, she chose to sidestep the dilemma, with the very human-like maneuver of pretending she hadn’t heard.
“Um... Anyway, what did Lud need for making the sweets?”
Sven changed the subject and returned to the purpose of Jacob’s visit.
“Well, it seems he needs a certain tool for making a sweet called a bambler or a bunkler or something. He asked if I had any junk that might be of use.”
Jacob’s family had run a factory in town until they had to close it just a few months ago. It was the best place in town to find useful junk.
“A bambler? I wonder what that is...”
“Let’s see... He even gave me a diagram of the design. He’s good at drawing!”
“After being in the military, that makes sense.”
A soldier’s job wasn’t just shooting guns. Ten thousand... No, hundreds of thousands of people worked together in the military, requiring more occupations than in a small town. One easy example was cooking duty to feed the soldiers. And a medical unit to treat the sick and injured. And an apparel unit to take care of the uniforms and fatigues. And a maintenance crew to control and maintain the weapons. And a corps of civil engineers to set up military positions, with skills that put professional contractors to shame.
“Master was in special operations, so he had to be able to handle many different jobs and received training in a variety of areas.”
“Oh. Including baking bread?”
“No, that’s different.”
Lud learned to bake in a town where he was sent as a scout. He learned the basics while working as a baker’s assistant for a year.
“The military is a collection of people and unexpected needs arise. Headquarters would consider requests and have special tools developed. Until then, the people on site had to deal with whatever the occasion demanded.”
“Like?”
“Like baths.”
In order to clean sweat, mud and blood from soldiers who were exhausted from the physical labor of battle, equipment for bathing was imperative. However, preparing a portable outdoor water heater wasn’t easy.
“So one unit made their own boiler by combining pipes, an electric heater, an engine and a generator they had on hand.”
“Being a soldier must be hard work.”
Since there were often such situations, and many soldiers had once been technicians in town factories, many military veterans were good with their hands.
“But what’s Lud going to make with these things?”
The materials were on the design Jacob held. Lud needed materials and the tools for assembling them. A metal pipe, a little steel and a few gears...
“Oh... Jacob. You came.”
Slowly, Lud came out from the back of the shop.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Still worried about having surprised Mary the day before, Lud checked to see who was there before fully presenting himself.
“I found some materials you might like. We still have welding tools, so you can use them if you want.”
“Sorry to bother you, Jacob. In return, I was just baking some test sweets for the Holy Festival. If you’d like, have some.”
“Really?! Then I stopped by at just the right time!”
Usually, Jacob seemed so mature it was almost unbelievable for a ten-year-old, but he was really still a child. There was no way he would pass up the chance to taste some sweets.
“Go ahead and try them.”
The test sweets Lud made were lined up in front of Jacob.
“What’s this? They look like jewels!”
Jacob’s attention was caught by the gem-like sweets in vibrant red, green, yellow and blue.
“Um, this has a strange texture... But it’s delicious!”
“These are fruit jellies called pamiers. They’re hardened with pectin instead of gelatin. Isn’t this unique texture addictive?”
Pectin is a polysaccharide contained in plants. When chilled, it turns jam into a form of jelly.
“How about this? Yes... this is good, too!”
“That’s a crepe cake—sponge cake wrapped in crepe.”
Sponge cake is soaked in liquors such as orange liqueur, rum, brandy and vodka, to make it fragrant.
“This is more for adults.”
“Yes. I want the adults to enjoy themselves along with the children.”
With just one bite, a wonderful, rich bouquet rose from the stomach to the nose.
“Master, your skills are impressive!”
Lud had been involved in the incident in Berun, the royal capital. Afterward, he seized the opportunity to visit shops in the city for research. Sven was amazed at how her master put the knowledge he gathered there into practice.
“Hmm...”
However, Lud didn’t look satisfied.
“What can it be? I’m not getting much of a response...”
Jacob’s reaction didn’t seem to be what Lud expected, because he made a pinched face.
“Oh, that’s just because Milly isn’t here today.”
Milly lived in the church atop the hill with Marlene and the children in the orphanage. She worked at Tockerbrot and hoped to become a baker like Lud. She was a big eater and loved delicious food. Every time Lud baked something, she gave him an overwhelming response. Sometimes, when Lud asked her to taste something, her enthusiastic responses were like a scene in a play, and she almost fainted in astonishment at the great taste.
“It’s worth baking for her!”
“Yeah, she gets so excited!”
Milly was given time off from her work at the bakery before the Holy Festival. It wasn’t just because Marlene wanted Milly to spend more time with the other children, who were like her family. It was because they lived in the church. The Holy Festival was approaching, and Marlene needed help with all the chores.
“What did you think, Mary?”
Lud asked Mary, who was sitting at the table in back, for her opinion. He had offered her a sample, along with tea prepared by Sven.
“Oh... sorry. I, um... food criticism isn’t my field. Sorry.”
She looked away and lowered her head as she answered.
“Oh, I see. Sorry.”
Lud spoke apologetically, too.
“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”
Saying no more, Mary left the room, having barely touched Lud’s sample.
“Maybe she can’t handle the liquor.”
“Maybe it was too strong.”
Jacob and Lud spoke softly as they watched Mary leave.
“Anyway, don’t you think this will be enough? The children and the adults will be thrilled.”
These sweets would be like dream creations for people in a rural town who were pleased with even a donut, a mere chunk of fried dough sprinkled with sugar.
“No, not yet. I want to please them even more. Holy Festival only comes once a year!”
Lud made a tight fist as if aiming for a higher goal.
“This man would never cut corners in a matter as important as this.”
“That’s what’s so great about him!”
Sven proudly thrust her chest out at Jacob, who was half impressed and half amazed.
“Well then, Master, what are you planning to make for your main attraction?”
Lud had drawn a design and prepared a special device, so Sven wondered what he was planning to make.
“Well, about that...”
That evening, Sven visited the church atop the hill to give a progress report.
“So there you have it. The process of making sweets is coming along well.”
“I see. I’ve never heard of such unique sweets.”
After Marlene heard the name of the sweet Lud was going to make, she cocked her head as if she didn’t know what it was.
“Apparently, it’s a local specialty from northern Wiltia.”
Pelfe was adjacent to the southeast border of Wiltia. It was understandable Marlene and Jacob didn’t recognize this sweet.
“I’m sure the children will be overjoyed. I was right to ask him,” Marlene said happily.
Just then, they heard a commotion behind the church.
“Hey! I told you not to fight! Why are you always so violent?”
They heard the soft sound of running coming from the direction of the commotion.
“Oh my! What’s going on?”
When Sven turned her head, she saw a little girl about seven or eight years old running away with a sour look on her face.
“Oh, Fran!”
When Marlene spotted the girl, she called out, but the girl didn’t stop.
“Marlene! Stop Fran!”
Fast on Fran’s heels, a girl Sven knew quite well appeared from behind the church. It was Milly, who worked under her at Tockerbrot.
“You! Why would you do such a thing?!”
Milly was usually tough and unyielding, but Sven thought her voice was sharper than usual today.
“What a ferocious expression you have on your face!”
“Oh... What are you doing here?”
Milly saw Sven and was suspicious.
“I’m here on minor business. Anyway, what happened?” Sven asked.
“You want to know what happened?! I was putting up decorations for the Holy Festival, but Fran ripped them all down!”
The church atop the hill was in ruins. Marlene, who used to be a terrorist, had used it to hide her true identity on her own initiative. So, while it was unofficial, it was still a church. People came there to offer prayers to God, so Marlene and the others hung decorations for the approaching Holy Festival.
“Fran, why did you do that?” Marlene asked.
But the girl didn’t answer. She frowned and clamped her mouth shut.
“If you act like this, the Saint won’t visit you on Holy Festival night!”
Milly scolded Fran, with a standard warning to children at this time of the year. However, instead of correcting her attitude, Fran showed no sign of remorse and just glared back in fierce anger.
“The Saint ain’t never gonna come! Are you stupid?!”
“What?!”
When Milly heard Fran openly call her stupid, her face flushed with rage.
“If you talk like that, the Devil will take you away! Is that what you want?! He’ll put you in his old sack and drag you to Hell!”
Milly tried again to threaten the girl, this time using the threat of the Devil.
“Hmf! The Devil don’t exist!”
It didn’t work either. Fran laughed with scorn.
“Y-You—!!”
“I don’t care about the Saint or the Devil anyway!”
Fran yelled to reinforce her point, then turned her back and bolted away.
“That girl!!”
Milly looked like she was having trouble swallowing her anger.
“Oh dear! It’s exactly as you told me!”
Children these days didn’t believe in either the Saint or the Devil. This scene illustrated Marlene’s fears.
“Um... and there’s more.”
Marlene’s slightly shadowed face suggested another problem.
“The children at the orphanage came here with other issues. Most of them lost their parents in the war.”
And Milly was one of them.
“Most of them don’t have any relatives. But that girl, Fran, has family.”
“Is she here because her family works away from home?”
“That’s right.”
After the Great War ended and the military economy subsided, Wiltia poured enormous funds into redevelopment of the recently acquired Pelfe region. The policy was in part for war reconstruction to assist people who had lost their jobs during the conflict. Many people had left their rural homes for the city to work.
“Fran has an older sister. She’s an old acquaintance of mine, so I agreed to take care of Fran.”
“And her sister hasn’t returned yet?”
“She hasn’t even contacted me.”
Apparently, Fran’s sister had left, saying she would be back by the next year’s Holy Festival. That was one year ago but she hadn’t returned. Marlene had sent a few letters, but they were sent back as undeliverable. Marlene didn’t know where Fran’s sister was now, or even if she was still alive.
“I haven’t heard from her for a whole year. I hate to think it, but...”
“It doesn’t sound good.”
Sven remembered the face of a certain soldier. He had always regretted abandoning his only sister and had lived in desperation, never able to dispel his demons.
“Lud puts effort into his sweets, but they may not reach that girl’s heart.”
What Fran wanted most was neither sweets nor expensive toys nor cute stuffed animals. She wanted her only remaining family and the assurance that she hadn’t been abandoned. And that was more than one baker could provide.
“I see... So that’s what happened?”
The next day, the morning of the Holy Festival, Lud listened to Sven with complicated feelings as she told him about Fran.
“Yes, it’s a sad story.”
Sven also seemed extremely troubled.
“Sven, you’ve changed.”
“What?”
Sven was surprised at his sudden comment.
“When you first came here, you never wore that expression.”
Sven was deeply affectionate, respectful and loyal toward Lud. She wouldn’t hesitate to give her life for him. At the same time, she had considered everyone other than Lud to be basically unimportant. She greeted Tockerbrot’s customers with a smile, but only because treating them politely was important to Lud. For her, the world only existed with Lud at its center.
“You feel sorry for this girl Fran. You want to do something for her, but you can’t and it pains you.”
“I’m... No...”
Sven was confused. If someone else said the same thing, she would have laughed and said, “Don’t be ridiculous!” But Sven knew that Lud understood her better than anyone else in the world, just as Lud felt about her. And it wasn’t blind belief. When she was still a military weapon, and a Steel Giant, Lud had ridden inside her and shared her fate.
“That feeling is very important, but I once lost sight of it. And I did something that I couldn’t undo.”
Lud was arching his broad back and assembling something with a clink-clank. Sven could sense his difficult past through his back. And she recognized his regret over that past in which he had suffered death, and theft and loss... and in which he also had stolen and become a killer.
“Um, M-Master?”
She started to say something, but her mouth, which usually spoke so clearly, was now refusing to cooperate, so she was frustrated.
“Good morning, Lud. Hm? What are you doing?”
Meanwhile, a visitor had arrived. It was Jacob, who had helped with the tool Lud was assembling.
“Oh, is that the thing for making the whatchamacallit?”
“Yes.”
Lud’s face was the same as usual as he answered Jacob.
“..................”
He wasn’t smiling. Someone who didn’t know him would have thought he was suffering from the hard work. Sven had a sudden thought...
I want to see Master smile again.
When she was still Avei, a Hunter Unit, she only saw him smile once, and that was when they parted. As Sven, she had now stayed with Lud for nine months, and had yet to see that same smile again. It was painful to want this and not have it. Perhaps Sven was sympathetic toward the girl Fran because they were both frustrated by unsatisfied desires.
“Sven, what’s wrong? You’re crinkling your face.”
“Oh no... Um... Ha ha ha...”
As Jacob spoke to her, Sven snapped out of her thoughts. Flustered, she chuckled dryly.
“Lud’s going to use the machine now.”
“Oh, that...”
Lud was assembling a device to make sweets. A metal pipe was extended between two thick metal poles. The pipe wasn’t long, no more than one meter. It was about two or three centimeters thick. An L-shaped handle was attached to one end of the pipe’s axis.
“I was hoping to heat it with electricity, but it’s easier to cook like this, so I’ll manage the old-fashioned way.”
Under the pipe, there was a small wood-burning fire. The firewood was beech and white birch, which wasn’t very fragrant.
“The fire heats the metal pipe, and little by little, we’ll put dough on the pipe.”
Lud was holding cake dough of eggs, flour, sugar, melted butter and a little rum for fragrance.
“Jacob, turn the handle at a steady speed or it will bake unevenly.”
“All right.”
Jacob turned the handle as Lud instructed. As it moved, Lud pressed dough onto the oil-covered pipe. The dough baked quickly because of the hot pipe and the fire, causing a sweet smell to rise, but...
“Jacob, turn a little slower or the dough won’t bake thoroughly.”
“Umf!”
The boy slowed his pace to turn the handle as Lud wanted.
“Jacob, now you’re too slow. The dough will overbake.”
“Urgh!”
Jacob began turning more quickly.
“Jacob, that’s too fast.”
“Argh! I don’t know how fast to do it! Why don’t you do it, Lud?!”
“I wish I could, but I have to apply the dough.”
Spreading the dough evenly required more precision than turning the handle.
“Here, I’ll take over.”
Sven took the handle from Jacob.
Based on a calculation of the degree of heat, the amount of protein in the dough, as well as of the milk fat and sugar, what is the most appropriate rotation speed and number of rotations to... Sven rapidly calculated the best speed for optimal baking and began turning the handle accordingly.
“Yes, Sven! You’ve got it just right!”
There was more to it than turning steadily at a moderate speed. The dough was baked in layers, so each time it turned, a different part of the dough was baked. Accounting for that change in her calculations, she adjusted the rotation speed so each layer would receive the same amount of heat. Sven performed this task perfectly, with a machine-like accuracy that a human being could only acquire after long professional experience.
“Now I’ll shape it with a spatula...”
While applying the dough, Lud used two spatulas—one small, one big—to smooth out the uneven areas. After a while, the dough was baked into a log-like shape.
“And now I’ll remove the cake from the fire and let it thoroughly cool.”
When Lud confirmed that the cake was cool enough, he removed the metal pipe.
“Then I’ll cut the left and right ends, shape it, cut it to an even thickness, and...”
The finished cake had layers of rings like the annual rings of a tree.
“Is this baumkuchen? I see... Just like the word means! A tree sweet!”
Jacob laughed, amused at the unique shape made by applying the dough as it turned and baked over the fire.
“May I try it?”
His face looked like that of a growing child with a healthy appetite who couldn’t wait when smelling fresh-baked baumkuchen.
“Of course.”
Lud wouldn’t deny him.
“This is good! It’s... Holy cow!!”
After just one bite, he reacted as Milly would have.
“It’s puffy, but because of the many layers, the texture melts in your mouth! This is delicious!”
“This sweet is made in the northern part of Wiltia. I don’t know exactly where it originated, but I tasted it in the city of Flander, and I heard the people eat it at their celebrations.”
“Wow... I had no idea such a tasty sweet existed!”
The boy gobbled it up in no time.
“Oh...”
Sven watched in wonder. She felt oddly warm inside, but also jittery and unable to sit still.
What is this feeling?
She felt a mixture of happiness and embarrassment.
“Now that I think about it, we’ve never made anything together.”
“Oh...”
Lud’s observation awakened Sven to the cause of her feelings.
Was this how Lud always felt?
“I’m making something that’s going to please others.”
Lud believed this feeling was worth securing, even if it took a lifetime.
“Oh... b-but, um...”
Sven hesitated.
She worked very hard at Tockerbrot, enough for a dozen employees. That was important and admirable, but she had never actually baked anything herself.
“But all I did was turn the pipe!”
Sven corrected Lud as she blushed and tried to suppress her unruly heart. As her master’s servant, she believed that it was insolent for her to experience the same pleasure he did, and that it was impossible for a mechanical doll like her to attain such a human feeling.
“That’s not true. It’s said that making baumkuchen is difficult. So if you can do it, then you’re a full-blown confectioner!”
The process looked easy at a glance, but to make tasty baumkuchen it was necessary to accurately judge the strength of the fire, rotate the dough at regular intervals, and assess how thoroughly it was baked at any given moment.
“I’m not a professional confectioner, so I wouldn’t be able to make this without your help.”
“But I...”
Sven felt slightly guilty. After all, she was a machine. She measured, calculated and performed a function. Those were the strengths of a machine, and what made a machine what it was. But human beings were different. A machine performed at the flip of a switch, the pull of a lever, the depression of a pedal, so it didn’t deserve praise.
“But you’re happy, right?”
“Um...”
Sven couldn’t argue with Lud’s assessment. She did indeed feel very good at this moment.
“Sven, there isn’t a lot we can do. I mean, about Fran’s sadness. We can’t do much, but...”
As Lud spoke, he held out a fresh-baked baumkuchen.
“Perhaps it will alleviate her sadness, even if just a little, if we give her a tasty treat!”
Someone once described despair as “sickness unto death.” Because despair could be stubborn and continuous. If sadness is constant, whether someone is awake or asleep, they begin to wither. Their eyes, ears and even their minds stop feeling. That’s why it’s necessary to arrest despair, if even for a second. In that split second, the sufferers can take hold of themselves and, with the slightest stimulation, sense what they couldn’t see or hear before. And that stimulation can prevent the human heart from further despair.
“Let’s bake a little something to make her smile, if only for a second.”
Eating delicious food may not drastically change one’s life. But, a baker can only bake. Lud put all his effort into baking to ensure that others would smile, even briefly.
“Well, let’s bake some more like this. Then we’ll add the final touches.”
“Huh? You’re gonna add something else?”
Jacob was surprised by Lud’s words.
“It’s already quite scrumptious!”
“Thanks, but since the Holy Festival is a special day, I want to make something more than scrumptious!”
Lud Langart didn’t know the meaning of the word “compromise.”
A good 15 hours later...
While the townsfolk were having a modest celebration, Lud and Sven continued baking the baumkuchen—and added an extra twist. By the time they finished and packed the sweets into individual boxes, the sun had set and night had fallen. Jacob helped until evening. He had insisted on staying to the very end, but they sent him home. Although he acted like a grownup, he was still a child. Lud and Sven wanted him to spend this special day with his family.
“This is like the saying ‘Physician, heal thyself.’”
With a bitter smile, Sven described the way they had worked feverishly while everyone else was enjoying the festival.
“That’s not true.”
However, Lud was happy to do something for others on this special day. For him, it was indeed as if the Saint of the Holy Festival had given him a gift.
“Anyway, I’m impressed with my costume!”
And that night, he and Sven had other roles to play. Sven would disguise herself as the Pure White Saint, and Lud would be the Pure Black Devil.
Lud, wearing his costume, was nonplussed at his transformation.
“W-Well, it doesn’t look bad on you!”
Sven, who looked more than perfect as the Pure White Saint, hurried to cheer him up. She was unimaginably pretty to begin with, but now she looked like a dream, even to Lud, who knew who she was. He couldn’t help but think that this was her true appearance.
“All right, let’s go.”
Lud and Sven began their rounds.
Disguised as the Saint and the Devil of the Holy Festival, Lud and Sven visited each house, but they didn’t enter through the front doors. They entered through the bedroom windows of the sleeping children.
And this is how it went... First, the Devil crept in. If the children awoke and wondered what was happening, they would see the massive figure of Lud as the Devil. The children would cry and yell at the sight. Then Sven came in dressed as the eagerly anticipated Saint and drove away the Devil. She told the sobbing children, “Do you want the Devil to take you away next year? If you are bad, he might!”
Waking up to see the Devil and the Saint would make a strong impression on even the most impudent children. If a child answered no, the Saint would say, “Then shall I give you a gift?” She would hand the child a box of sweets made with the utmost care by the Devil—or rather, by Lud.
Sven wore her well-practiced business smile, but Lud didn’t need to do anything special. He just stood there and, as if it was a law of nature, the children screamed.
“When things go this smoothly, I start to feel a little sad.”
Lud mumbled glumly after they had visited most of their target houses.
He had accepted his role, believing it was much better to be despised as a character from folklore than to be despised as the person he was. But it still bothered him when the kids said his face was scary.
“You were in the dark... So maybe that was part of it.”
Sven reassured him.
“But half of the parents screamed, too.”
Not only mothers, but fathers too had cried out in fear—“Gyah!!”—so it was understandable he felt sad.
“Some of them were even people I know.”
Since Tockerbrot’s business had picked up, the number of people frightened by Lud had decreased. Customers weren’t overly surprised when he stuck his face out from the oven room to check on the state of the shop. Of course, they had lost all antipathy for Lud by now. And Lud knew that. But it still hurt when they trembled in fear.
“I was surprised that Charlotte wasn’t scared.”
Charlotte was Jacob’s mother. She knew what Lud and Sven were doing and had helped them over the last few days. She worked part-time at Tockerbrot, helping Lud with sales trips to other towns.
They had visited Charlotte to thank her for her help by giving her sweets. When she had opened the door and seen Lud’s face, she had simply smiled and said, “Oh, good work!”
“Now that’s the woman who stole Major Blitzdonner’s heart!”
She appeared to be gentle and pretty, but something about her seemed more fearless than anyone else.
“I wonder if he’ll come this year.”
Sven remembered her conversation with Jacob a few days ago and wondered aloud whether the “man in red” would return this year.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Jacob was already asleep, but he had asked his mother to offer Lud and Sven hot lemonade since they would spend all night making visits.
“Such a thoughtful boy!”
In addition, he had prepared a small snack for them, in case they were hungry. And it contained sour and salty pickles to help combat their exhaustion.
“He’s just ten years old... I wonder what he’ll be like as an adult!”
Sven had arithmetic abilities that far surpassed a human being’s, but the boy’s future was incalculable even for her.
“Well, only the church is left. Shall we drop by the shop for a fresh supply of sweets?”
“Yes, let’s.”
The two walked back to their base of operations. Then they both froze in place.
“Is that Marlene?”
Lud had been a soldier and a member of the secret special ops unit known as the Werewolves.
“No. We’re behind schedule, so there’s a chance she might come to get us, but she doesn’t have a key.”
Sven was a Hunter Unit created for war. For these two, it was easy to sense something out of place even before they arrived in front of the shop. There was someone inside the bakery.
Meanwhile, inside Tockerbrot...
“Hmm... Is there anything here?”
A thief had come into the shop in the hope of stealing something while everyone in town was celebrating the Holy Festival.
“This shop appears to be popular, so I bet they have quite a stash.”
The thief had searched everywhere but found only small change, so she was irritated.
“Anyway, when did they build this place? It wasn’t here before.”
The thief was alone. And she had never done this before. In fact, she had just decided on the crime in passing.
“Urgh... At this rate, I won’t be able to buy a single souvenir!”
She talked aloud to herself because otherwise her fear at committing her first crime would overcome her.
“Oh!”
She found an old-fashioned cash register on the counter.
“Maybe there’s some money in it!”
The thief stretched out her arm. And the result? There was no money inside.
Tockerbrot’s skilled waitress calculated and recorded each day’s sales, stored them in a safe under the floor, then deposited them in the bank once a week. Every Friday. So Sven had just deposited the entire week’s proceeds at noon that day.
“It’s locked... Should I force it open? Is there some kind of tool around?”
The thief didn’t know much about her target. Since she was committing this crime with no plan, she didn’t even have decent tools. She had broken into the shop by throwing a rock she picked up off the street.
“Huh?”
The thief sensed someone nearby. And when she looked outside, someone was standing in front of the door.
“Hey, is somebody inside?”
The person outside spoke.
Uh-oh!
Of course, she didn’t say this out loud. She thought the shopkeepers would be away all night at the festival, but maybe they had returned. She’d be in trouble if they called someone.
I think there was a backdoor!
The thief hadn’t stolen much, but there was no point at all if she got caught. She crawled across the floor toward the backdoor.
“Meow!”
A white cat appeared. It was Ellis, Tockerbrot’s pet.
“Hey, you’re in my way! Move or suffer the consequences!”
The thief plucked up Ellis and moved the cat aside.
“Huh?”
Then she saw a woman’s legs.
“...............”
The thief looked up and saw the Saint of the Holy Festival standing in front of her. It was Sven.
The explanation was simple. Lud and Sven noticed someone in the shop. Lud had raised his voice to get the intruder’s attention, while Sven entered through the backdoor and blocked the path of retreat.
“Um...”
The thief hesitated because the pretty girl in front of her really looked like the Saint. And she was looking, not at the thief, but around the shop with cold eyes. She was scanning the shop.
The thief had been born and raised in Pelfe. So it appeared to her that a saint had descended from Heaven to quietly and calmly punish her for her crime. But that wasn’t true. Tockerbrot was Lud’s treasure and the fruition of his dreams. And the thief had rudely broken into that sacred place. Moreover, the thief was holding leftover bread because it was the only thing she could find to steal. She had broken in to steal the food that Lud had baked with such care, and with a wish— almost a prayer—that whoever ate it would be happy.
“You...”
Sven mumbled in a hard voice capable of inducing chills.
“Should I kill you?”
“Yikes!”
The thief felt fear from the bottom of her heart. There was murderous intent in the face of the beautiful Saint.
“Help!”
“I won’t let you go!!”
The thief quickly tried to escape, but Sven drove her back like a hungry wolf. The backdoor was blocked, so the only way out was the front door. She knew someone else was there, but she was sure that whoever it was would certainly be less menacing than this woman. Compared to a saint with a face more frightening than a devil, the real Devil would be a lot better.
“Wait!”
When she opened the door, there stood Lud dressed like the Devil.
“Hwah?”
The thief made a foolish sound and collapsed on the spot. As she lost consciousness, the thief thought to herself that she was wrong. She had thought the real Devil would be better. But...
“The real Devil is terrifying!”
The thief mumbled the words aloud just before everything went black.
At Marlene’s orphanage in the church atop the hill...
Holy Festival prayers had ended. And for a church that usually adhered to poverty as a virtue, a quite luxurious meal had adorned the table. However, Fran was gloomy. It was night, and the lights were off. While everyone else was asleep, she was awake, curled up in bed.
This year, she hadn’t been a good girl. And her only sister hadn’t come to get her. Her sister had said she would come for Fran on the night of the Holy Festival. Another year had passed, but she hadn’t arrived.
Fran knew. She knew that the Saint and Devil of the Holy Festival were adults in disguise. No saint or devil came to children who didn’t have parents or any family. And they wouldn’t come to a girl whose sister had abandoned her.
During the first year, Fran had tried hard to be a good girl. Back then, she thought her sister would come back. The next year, she had been a naughty girl. Because she knew that even if she was bad, the Devil wouldn’t come for her. She didn’t have anyone to praise her for being good or scold her for being bad.
Fran held her fist tight and curled her body, twisting it in the sheets. She was all alone in the world, and that solitude smothered her in relentless fear. She glanced at the window. That’s where the Saint and the Devil of the Holy Festival would appear. But they wouldn’t come. No one would come to her.
“Huh?”
Just then, a figure appeared outside the window. Involuntarily, her heart pounded in surprise.
“Agh!”
She spat out a yelp. Because she knew. She knew that the nun Marlene had asked some bakers to disguise themselves as the Saint and Devil. And she had heard the woman from the bakery talking the other day.
But... Something didn’t seem right. There was only one person standing at the window. And while the owner of the bakery was large, this person was much smaller. But its shadow was taller than the waitress.
Her heart pounded. Fran didn’t believe in the Saint and Devil. Then who was it? Maybe a thief or... The window opened with a clack, and a figure entered the room. Fran held her breath. There were many rows of beds in the room, and the other children were breathing softly. Someone was walking among them, headed straight for her bed.
Does the Devil really exist?!
Was he going to stuff her in his old sack and cart her off to Hell for being bad?
Finally, the shadow reached her bed and stopped. Its arm slowly stretched toward her...
Fran couldn’t help but scream.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!! I’m sorry!! Don’t take me away!!”
She cried and screamed and begged for forgiveness. Unexpectedly, however, she got a reply from the shadow she thought was the Devil.
“Shhh! No, Fran! You’ll wake the others!”
“Huh...?”
Fran was confused and scared. Moonlight shone through the window.
“Triss...? Sis?”
It was Triss, her sister, standing in front of her with an uncomfortable smile and her finger pressed to her mouth.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’m so sorry, Fran.”
Triss hugged her sister.
“Huh? Why...? How...?”
Fran didn’t understand. Why was her sister here? Was she dreaming? There was no Saint or Devil. And she had been a naughty girl. So why did she get the gift she had longed for the most: her sister? She didn’t know. But...
“Sis!”
The reason didn’t matter. All that mattered was that her sister was right here. That was enough for Fran.
“It worked!”
Lud, Sven and Marlene were watching the emotional reunion through a crack in the door.
“I can’t believe the thief in our shop was Fran’s sister!”
It was a coincidence, but an understandable one. Because...
One hour ago...
Marlene was worried about Lud and Sven who had not arrived at the scheduled time. So she went to Tockerbrot, and was surprised by a very strange sight.
“Anyway, stop crying. Aren’t you hungry? Here, have some leftover bread.”
The Devil spoke kindly to Triss.
“Make sure you savor the taste. This is your last supper, thief.”
But the Saint was cold and threatening.
“What’s going on?”
However, it wasn’t the devil-like Saint or the saint-like Devil that surprised Marlene. She was surprised to see the thief between them, a woman sobbing as she ate bread.
“M-Marlene...?”
The woman was surprised by the visitor, but knew her name.
“Huh? Do you know each other?”
Lud started to speak, but he stopped when he saw Marlene’s face.
“What do you mean by ‘thief?!’”
Marlene had a very cold, almost cruel look on her face. It was the face of someone so furious, someone too angry to fully express her emotion in her face.
“Um...”
“Lud, I’m sorry, but could you turn around, go into the back room, close your eyes and cover your ears?”
“All right...”
Lud tried to speak but faced with Marlene’s rigid anger, he had no choice but to retreat.
“What’s going on here?”
Without concerning herself with Sven’s puzzled look, Marlene marched over to the thief—tak! tak!—and slapped her cheek sharply.
“Ouch!”
“Oh, shut up, you idiot!!”
Then Marlene smacked her a few more times. They weren’t gentle slaps. They were a forceful attack in which she cracked her arm like a whip.
“You didn’t contact me for over a year! And when you finally come back, you’re here to steal, you idiot?!”
Then she started to kick Triss with a stomping motion. The thief couldn’t fight back. She merely begged, repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Do you know each other?”
“Yes. Her name is Triss. You know Fran? The girl you met at church the other day? Well, this is her sister!”
“Oh!”
Sven clapped her hands together.
Meanwhile, Marlene continued kicking the thief.
“I’m sorry, Boss Lady! I had to!”
“Why would you have to? If you got caught stealing, you wouldn’t have any right to complain even if they cut off your fingers! Why would you do it in my neighborhood anyway?!”
“I thought it was all right since the shop just opened!”
Triss had purposely chosen Tockerbrot, which had been built after she left Organbaelz and was unfamiliar to her, because older shops in the village might have people in them who knew Marlene. However, her idea had backfired. She would never have tried to steal from a shop run by the person Marlene had a secret crush on.
“Argh! You’re still a stupid idiot, you idiot!”
“I’m sorry, Boss Lady! I’m sorry!”
As Sven watched Marlene scold and slap Triss, Sven put her hand on her chin and pondered: “Hmm...”
Marlene usually acted like a pious clergywoman—like a nun. She was, however, a former terrorist and member of the Pelfe Liberation League. Her face looked very different now as she yelled and berated Triss.
“She calls you Boss Lady... What is your relation to her?”
“Um, we spent time together at the same poorhouse years ago.”
“Boss Lady was the leader of the notorious hooligans in the old quarter of Lapchuricka! And she always watched over me!”
Marlene reluctantly began to explain, and Triss, misunderstanding the situation, got carried away and supplied more information.
“Don’t add unnecessary details!”
“Ouch!”
After Triss revealed Marlene’s past as a gang leader, Marlene silenced her with a serious kick.
“Do you... always play the hypocrite?”
Sven was amazed. Almost everyone in town—even Milly, who was like her family—had no suspicion that Marlene was anything but a nun. Even Sven and Lud hadn’t known who she really was when they first met her.
“I’ve been through a lot, okay?! A lot! Anyway, what have you been doing this past year while Fran was here alone?!”
“Um...”
Triss made a dark face and started talking...
She never considered abandoning Fran. She had planned to pick her up after she found a job and was set up with a life in the city. To accomplish that, she had worked herself to death day and night. However, things didn’t go well.
She had worked at a joint public and private factory as part of the war reconstruction. At first, she was supposed to receive a housing allowance or a bed in the dormitory for factory workers, complete with social guarantees and proper wages in an environment that satisfied labor standards laws. According to her contract, Triss expected to send her sister to school within one year. However, the factory broke that agreement without a second thought—or perhaps it never intended to honor it.
The dormitory supplied housing in name only. She found herself packed into a single room with eight to ten other people. The meals were poor, and sometimes consisted of rotten meat and moldy bread. Conditions were harsh, and her employers didn’t concern themselves with safety. Many workers were injured, and people began to fall sick, one after the other. But instead of sending them to the hospital, they were fired without severance and sent away.
“I’ll die if I continue like this!”
This was Triss’s belief as she fled the factory. But if she quit, they would slap her with penalties for causing a staff shortage and losses for the factory.
“It was Hell. More than half my wages were deducted for my uniform and meals. I could barely survive, much less come for Fran.”
“I see... So that’s what happened...”
Marlene’s anger had calmed as she listened to Triss’s hellish story. In fact, she started to feel her heart warm toward Triss.
“That’s too bad. But it’s a common story.”
Sven’s face was bitter as she spoke.
War caused consumption on a massive scale. When it ended, the inflated production was more than the nation could handle, resulting in deflation across the European continent and around the world. Furthermore, the ranks of decommissioned soldiers and unemployed workers had swelled.
Capitalism in its pure form is a balance of supply and demand. If there is an excessive supply of workers without a corresponding demand of jobs to fill, then labor sells for cheap—resulting in a decrease in the value placed on people. Therefore, what happened to Triss was tolerated as commonplace.
“Was that factory managed by Wiltia?”
Marlene didn’t like asking this in front of Sven, but she wanted to know. Wiltia had annexed Pelfe. Many Wiltians believed that Pelfians were inferior to Wiltians. As a result, stories abounded of Wiltian owners working Pelfians like slaves.
“No. The owner of the factory I worked at was a Pelfian, but its funding came from the Wiltian government.”
“What a shame!”
Society was growing increasingly distorted. Wiltia hired as many Pelfians as possible to handle the administration of Pelfe. The government thought this would decrease friction between the two peoples. However, Pelfian managers began to feel privileged and special, which gave rise to discrimination against fellow Pelfians. Some of these managers abandoned their ancestral Pelfian names for Wiltian names, and then considered themselves to be “honorable Wiltians.”
“There’s no hope for them!”
Marlene snarled these words in disgust. She was a former terrorist because of her anger against a twisted world.
“I had to run from the factory, but I had nowhere to go. I tried to earn money somehow, but...”
In the city, there weren’t many ways for a young girl alone to earn money. And the choices were more limited after leaving her previous job. It would be difficult for Triss to tell her sister about the work she had been forced to take.
“I tried hard, but... I’m not smart.”
Triss started to tremble and weep.
Seeing her, Sven remembered Jacob’s mother Charlotte. She had also left for the city to help her family. She eventually had to degrade herself as a prostitute and later had given birth to Jacob.
“That’s enough, Triss. Say no more.”
“Boss Lady...”
Marlene firmly held Triss as she cried.
“I’m sorry. I got into debt, so I couldn’t come back for Fran. But finally I didn’t have anywhere to go. So I came back to Organbaelz and...”
She had broken into the bakery to find something that she could give to her sister.
“Master, you can come in now.”
Sven spoke to Lud, who was still in the back of the shop.
“I overheard half of her story.”
“Oh...”
Half was enough to understand.
“What shall we do?”
Sven’s voice held a bitter pain.
“I wish I could do something.”
Triss’s attempted thievery wasn’t the problem. Lud wouldn’t turn her in to the police. But that wasn’t the problem. They wanted to help her. However, while business was improving at Tockerbrot, the shop still had debts. They could provide her with enough to get by for a few days, but they couldn’t save her from poverty. Even the hero once known as the Silver Wolf was helpless.
“Tch!”
Then they heard a sound.
“Excuse me. I just woke up.”
It was Mary, the writer with messy hair and spiral-patterned glasses.
“Mary? When did you get here?”
“I’ve been here the whole time.”
Mary sounded indignant, and Sven was surprised.
While Lud and Sven had been making the baumkuchen, Mary was doing research nearby, and then she had borrowed the space in the back of the shop and wrapped herself in her sleeping bag for a night’s sleep.
“It’s already late. I slept too long.”
“You’re sure a deep sleeper!”
She had nerves of steel if she slept soundly through the whole disturbance caused by the break in.
“Let’s see...Your name is Triss, right?”
“Yeah. Um, who’re you?”
Triss was confused by the sudden appearance of this strange woman.
“I heard your story even though I was half asleep. So do you want to do something about it?”
“Huh? Do something about it? Of course I do!”
Triss didn’t wish for so much. She just wanted a small income to live on with her only sister.
“You can do something about it.”
“Huh?”
Triss thought Mary was either making a bad joke or teasing her.
Mary spoke too casually for Triss to think otherwise.
“You... might be Boss Lady’s acquaintance, but don’t get mouthy!”
“You said Wiltia was funding the factory where you worked, but the money must have gone through the regional Pelfe government. The Wiltian government supervises businesses in annexed areas to prevent monopolies.”
Mary calmly explained.
“In other words, the Wiltian government is responsible for the factory’s operation. They may have a legal route of escape, but not a moral one. And since they can’t escape, there’s hope.”
Circumstances might be different in other nations, but Wiltia had been victorious in the recent Great War, so the superpower prided itself on being exceptional. That nation had annexed Pelfe and claimed its people for its own, so if it was known that it placed those people in economic servitude, it would lose face.
“Wiltia is the principal member of the Society of Nations. No matter what the reason, if word got out it was enslaving its own people, it would suffer considerable damage.”
Mary was from Greyten, a former enemy nation of Wiltia. And she had come here as a journalist. If someone like her made the information public, the government would have to act.
“Are you saying we should expect government officials to do something about it? That won’t happen. They don’t do anything!”
The regional government consisted of a bunch of lazy good-for-nothings. Even faced with someone desperate and crying for help, they would just point at the break time sign and keep sipping their tea.
“No.”
Triss sounded ready to give up, but Mary corrected her firmly.
“We won’t expect them to help. We’ll make them help. They have a responsibility and obligation to do so. As someone with legitimate rights and a valid claim, we’ll make them help!”
“Make them help? But how?”
“I’ll introduce you to a few good lawyers. If you threaten a lawsuit, they won’t turn you away at reception.”
“But we don’t have the money to hire a lawyer.”
“The right to sue is an important right. And the government has an obligation to protect it. So it may cover court costs or exempt you from paying them.”
Triss was overwhelmed as Mary steadily closed in.
“God helps those who help themselves. Do you know that expression?”
Rights are not unconditionally or automatically effective. They only become effective when those with rights know their value and meaning.
“There is something you can do. You just don’t know what it is yet. If the regional Pelfe government takes action, inspects the factory, and finds your employer has been exploiting its workers, for whatever reason, it will implement severe penalties.”
Triss herself could demand her stolen pay, wages for excessive labor, and compensation for mental and physical duress.
Employee and employer are not equal. Employees are much weaker. Thus the law would work to rectify the situation for those at a distinct disadvantage. Otherwise, the world would know Wiltia was not a country bound by law.
“Got it? People don’t have to punch it out. There are other methods. There is definitely a way to defeat scumbags who play at being the boss by brandishing their authority and financial power and even using violence.”
“Um... okay!”
A light that shone almost like reverence burned in Triss’s eyes as if she were gazing at a war goddess from Heaven.
“Uh... Mary?”
Hesitantly, Sven spoke to Mary.
“Yes?”
Mary turned around with a sharp exhalation.
“You’ve, uh... lost your accent.”
“Huh?!”
Mary looked surprised. She ducked her head uncomfortably but then looked up as if having made up her mind.
“Oh my! It just happened! All of a sudden, I can speak fluently!”
And now her accent had returned.
“.....................”
“.....................”
The atmosphere turned chilly.
“If the people I’m researching put up their guard, it’s difficult to observe their natural behavior. So, um...”
“So you pretended to be awkward.”
It wasn’t just that Mary now spoke the Wiltian language smoothly. Her affected Greyten accent had disappeared, offering a glimpse of another national accent. If the information in Sven’s databanks was correct...
“Mary! Is what you just said true?! That it’ll work out for Triss?! She can live with her little sister?!”
Despite her earlier fury, Marlene had been worried for her former underling. Now that she saw hope, she looked to Mary with joy and excitement.
“W-Well... Yeah... probably. I’m about 90 percent certain it will go well. To begin with... No... uh, never mind.”
To begin with, the operators of that factory used violence to threaten people into obeying, people with little status in society and without much education. But, if people knowledgeable in the law confronted them, they would crumble in no time.
“For now, I should say good-bye. I’ll go back to Pelfe and make arrangements.”
“B-But, um... what should I do?!”
“Oh...”
At Triss’s question, Mary turned a slightly irritated face toward Lud.
“You should come yourself in the new year. Until then... Have that man keep you busy.”
Saying no more, Mary departed with a jaunty gait that was entirely different from when she arrived.
“Um...”
Mary had told Lud to keep Triss busy, but he was unsure what that entailed. It wasn’t long, though, before he thought of something only Triss could do.
“Triss? Let’s go see Fran.”
A little earlier, back at the church...
Lud, Sven and Marlene went into the chapel to avoid disturbing the sisters’ reunion.
“Well, does that settle everything?”
“At the very least, you’ve given Fran the present she wanted most. Thank you, Lud.”
Marlene bowed, politely and with feeling.
“I didn’t do anything. It’s all thanks to Mary.”
“What’s her full name?”
“I think it’s, um... Mary Clarissa.”
Marlene made a sound as if pondering something.
“I’ve heard that name somewhere...”
She racked her brains but couldn’t remember.
“All right, you two! Tea’s ready! It may be a little late, but now we can enjoy our Holy Festival treat!”
Sven had been back in the kitchen preparing tea, and now brought it out.
“Lud, you made baumkuchen, right?”
“Yes. And I added a final flourish. Give it a try!”
She opened the box and inside was a pure white, ring-shaped cake that looked like a crown.
“What’s this?! It’s beautiful!”
“I coated baumkuchen with butter cream in the style of a Flander krantz!”
A Flander krantz was a cake served at celebrations in the Wiltian city of Flander. Krantz was a Wiltian word signifying “crown.”
“It’s delicious! The cream is rich, but it melts in your mouth! I could eat a lot of this!”
“Undiluted buttercream is too rich, so I used meringue to make it lighter. And it seems I was right to add almond sugar!”
Lud explained as Marlene ate with gusto.
“If you sell this next year at the Holy Festival, it’ll be famous!”
The talented waitress was already hatching campaigns for the next year.
“Ulllgmmph!”
“You’re pigging out too fast! Just like Milly!”
Marlene had eaten so quickly, the food caught in her throat. Exasperated, Sven served her tea.
“Sorry. I’m making a visitor serve me!”
“That’s all right. I’m better at making tea.”
“B-But I do think I’ve improved!”
Milly was like a little sister to Marlene and she said Marlene was beautiful but clumsy. The way Marlene prepared tea was particularly catastrophic. So much so that Lud had said “People in Greyten are particular about their tea. If they drank that, it could set off a war!”
“Mary is from Greyten, so she may be fussy about her tea. I was hoping she would eat this.”
Lud regretted that he hadn’t given her a Flander krantz-style baumkuchen before she left.
“Master... she isn’t from Greyten.”
“Huh? But she said that’s where she came from.”
“Well...”
Maybe it was true she had come from Greyten. But she was originally from somewhere else. Sven’s auditory sensors had heard through Mary’s affected Greyten accent and analyzed her true national accent.
“She was born in Haugen.”
The next morning...
Mary Clarissa had spent the night in Saupunkt, a town next to Organbaelz. Then she boarded a train bound for Ponapalas, the old capital city of Pelfe. There weren’t many passengers on the train. Mary was the only one sitting in a box for four people. She didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing as she removed her disguise.
She straightened her messy hair, took off her thick glasses, removed the cotton inside her mouth, and wiped away the freckles she had applied with makeup. She then removed the layer of clothing underneath the baggy men’s clothing she had worn to change the shape of her body, revealing her own slender figure.
“Good work. How was Organbaelz?”
There weren’t many passengers on the train, but a man seated not far from Mary spoke to her.
“It was a normal country town. They aren’t saints, and they aren’t villains. They just work hard every day. It’s a typical town where honorable folk live.”
Without the least surprise, Mary removed clothes from her trunk and changed into them.
“I hear officials arrested Samon.”
The man told Mary about the incident one week earlier at an officer’s school in a suburb of Berun—a scandal at a military facility—even though it was not yet public knowledge.
“Oh? That teacher’s name is well-known, so I expected more from him. Oh well.”
Despite her words, Mary didn’t sound as though she really cared. It was meaningless whether or not inciting the officer’s candidates into an armed uprising had succeeded. Even without that, they would reach their goal. They would achieve their revenge.
“It had been a long time since I saw that man. How many years, I wonder? I don’t think it’s been ten, but...”
His face and body had completely changed. So much so that if she hadn’t known it was him, she wouldn’t have recognized him. It was actually hard to believe he was the same person once known as the Silver Wolf. Before seeing him, she suspected it was simply someone with the same name. However, her doubt evaporated when she met him face-to-face. The moment she saw Lud Langart’s face, murderous rage had instinctively risen within her.
“But I don’t think he recognized me.”
She had been unable to keep quiet after learning about Triss’s predicament. While she intended to play the mediocre reporter to the very end, she had revealed herself.
“Time does not heal all wounds.”
On the contrary, the long passage of time had purified and condensed the anger and hatred brewing inside her.
“What I could forgive the very least was that he named his shop after my grandfather!”
Mary Clarissa was a rising novelist in the Greyten Empire. However, Mary Clarissa was her pen name. Her real name was Mary Ville Mehl. And her grandfather’s name was Tocker Mehl. He had owned a bakery in the now destroyed city of Lapchuricka in the Kingdom of Haugen.
