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墨書 Inktalez
Amidst the clinking of glasses, Erin nibbled on bread and other delicacies while secretly observing her surroundings. The food on the table was exceptionally delicious, surpassing anything she had tasted elsewhere. The stew was rich and flavorful, the roasted meat tender and aromatic, and even the ordinary bread carried a purer taste that struck Erin as particularly strange.
As she chewed on the bread, her mind was filled with questions. The soil here seemed quite barren, and water resources were scarce; how could they possibly have such fine grains and ingredients? Trade? That seemed impossible—this small town had no special industries or goods to trade, and it appeared that the townspeople never left.
While savoring the food, Erin pondered the mystery behind it all. She noticed that the townspeople around her were enjoying the meal with laughter and cheer, seemingly indifferent to the origins of these ingredients. This only deepened her confusion.
Slowly, she set down the bread, more questions swirling in her mind. Where did these ingredients come from? Could it really be as they claimed, due to some mysterious power? Or was there a deeper secret hidden here?
Erin scanned her surroundings, her gaze landing on Diego Montoro and the Four Martyrs. She observed that each of them wore an unusual expression, as if they possessed a peculiar understanding of the food before them. Especially Carmen, whose twisted face bore a hint of a mad smile, as if he were reveling in some abnormal pleasure.
"This food is truly delicious," Erin forced a smile as she addressed Diego Montoro. "How can you have such fine ingredients in this environment?"
Diego Montoro replied with a smile, "That is our secret, dear. Everything here is a gift from God. We simply follow His guidance and take care of this land, and He blesses us with bountiful food."
Erin set down her bread and coldly remarked, "God? You mean the Holy Angel you speak of?"
At the mention of the Holy Angel, Erin immediately felt Raphael's gaze upon her—cold as death itself, as if he could see through her every move. His eyes were filled with threat and warning, sending a chill down Erin's spine. Those deep-set eyes seemed capable of piercing her soul, capturing every secret hidden within. She shivered involuntarily, feeling every nerve in her body tense up.
Mark quickly kicked Erin under the table, signaling her to tread carefully with her words. Her heart raced; she realized she might have touched upon the most sensitive nerve in this town. Yet she understood that this was the only way to uncover the truth.
However, Diego Montoro continued to smile as he replied, "For you outsiders, it may be hard to comprehend, but... that being's existence is what has saved our town."
Diego Montoro's smile brought an unsettling feeling; his calmness and confidence seemed to conceal some unfathomable secret. Erin forced herself to remain calm, though her inner doubts grew deeper. "That being? Can you explain further? We are very curious about everything in this town."
Diego Montoro smiled slightly, a mysterious glint flashing in his eyes. "The Holy Angel is the core of our faith, our protector and guide. Under His blessing, our land flourishes, and our lives are fulfilled. His power is everywhere, and His grace knows no bounds."
As Diego spoke with increasing fervor, the light in his eyes grew even more intense. He suddenly stood up, arms wide open, and exclaimed with a smile, "Look around you... under His blessing, we are so peaceful... so harmonious. We are rich and happy—just look!"
Eileen, Mark, and Lisa turned their heads to survey the rows of dining tables. The townspeople were happily chatting and eating, each face radiating joy and contentment. The men raised their glasses boisterously while the women conversed softly, and children played nearby, as if they were in a perfect world.
Candlelight flickered on the tables, illuminating the gleam of exquisite dishes that filled the air with delightful aromas. The laughter and chatter of the townspeople intertwined to create a harmonious melody. This scene seemed to starkly contrast with the desolation and barrenness outside, making it hard to believe that this was indeed a remote little town.
Eileen was filled with confusion and unease. Everything looked so beautiful, so perfect, yet it evoked an indescribable sense of eeriness and unreality within her. She scanned each table and every smiling face, trying to find a hint of flaw.
"Under His protection, our lives are so wonderful," Diego Montoro continued passionately and proudly. "We not only enjoy abundant material life but also spiritual fulfillment and happiness. The grace of the Holy Angel is everywhere; He fills each day with hope and light."
Mark and Lisa also felt a wave of discomfort; such perfection made them question whether some hidden darkness lay beneath it all. They exchanged glances, knowing that Eileen's doubts mirrored their own.
"This is truly unbelievable," Eileen said softly, attempting to mask her unease. "Your lives seem so wonderful, so fulfilling."
Diego Montoro nodded, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes. "Yes, our lives truly are like this; we owe it all to the blessing of the Holy Angel. He is our guide and protector; under His sheltering wings, we need not worry about any difficulties or challenges."
Eileen felt a strong contradiction; the happiness and perfection here seemed overly idealized, stirring her discomfort.
Suddenly, Diego Montoro raised his glass high and called out to the townspeople behind him, "My beloved people! Who among you can tell these three wise ones from distant lands about the Holy Angel... our benevolent Father, His story?"
The once-boisterous town center fell silent in an instant; it was as if everyone was waiting for some sacred moment to arrive. In that quiet moment, a small boy darted between the tables with the fearless innocence unique to children and ran up to Diego Montoro.
Diego Montoro gently bent down, patted the boy's head, and whispered, "Little Rudy... do you have a story you would like to share with everyone?"
Little Rudy looked up, his eyes sparkling with innocent light. He was about seven or eight years old, with golden curls shimmering softly in the candlelight, and his eyes revealed a sense of untainted innocence. He smiled and nodded, then looked at Erin, Mark, and Lisa, his clear gaze bringing a touch of warmth and hope.
"Holy Angel... He is our guardian and loving father," Little Rudy said in his tender voice, clear and full of childlike wonder. "A long, long time ago, this little town was very barren, and people lived very hard lives. Everyone worked every day just to make a living; nothing grew on the land, and there was very little water."
Erin, Mark, and Lisa listened quietly, filled with curiosity and confusion. They looked at the little boy and felt his fearless innocence and sincerity.
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