My Abyss Survival Diary

Chapter 21 The Priest's Sorrow

The furious roar echoed like a stone thrown into an iron barrel, its muffled thud reverberating throughout the confessional.

Klein's hand froze in mid-air, and Badal's shotgun was still in its place; both of them froze simultaneously.

Andrei emerged from behind the counter and strode up to Simon in two steps. His iron-gray metal hand reached out, fingers spread, and clamped down on Simon's neck.

The metal fingers are cool; that iron-like coolness seeps into the blood vessels through the skin.

"This necklace," Andrei's voice was laced with suppressed anger, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, "where did you get it?"

Klein's hand rested on the hilt of his dagger, but he didn't pull it out. Badal held his shotgun, muzzle down, finger on the trigger guard, and didn't move. Neither of them dared to move.

His face turned pale, but he still argued for Simon: "Calm down, Father Andrei, he's not that kind of person..."

Simon did not struggle, but his dark eyes were as calm as a stagnant pool.

He looked at Andrei's face, at those brown eyes that had turned from warm to cold, and at the true face revealed after the smile had completely disappeared.

"I'll say it," Simon's voice was steady, "you let go first."

Andrei stared into those dark eyes for three seconds...

One by one, the metal fingers left Simon's neck, taking away the chill of the iron.

Andrei took a step back, crossed his arms over his chest, and tapped his arm restlessly with the fingers of his metal prosthetic limb.

"explain."

Simon didn't rub his neck. He lowered his right hand, his fingers resting on the quiver at his waist, and touched the fletching of the steel crossbow bolt.

The movement was very light, like an unintentional touch.

The arrow was already loaded. From the moment Andrei stepped out of the counter, he used his left thumb to push the crossbow bolt into the slot, the whole process taking less than a second.

Now, all he needs to do is remove his right hand from the quiver, grip the fork, and pull the trigger, and the steel bolt will shoot out from the side of the fork and pierce Andrei's throat.

He wasn't sure if Anderson had noticed his subtle movements, nor was he sure if the crossbow bolt could kill the young priest, but he wouldn't sit idly by or hesitate to act if necessary.

It's not time to completely break ties yet.

He took a deep breath and began to tell the story.

"Yesterday, I came down from the elevator. The fog was very thick, and the visibility was less than five meters. We encountered a woman whose nape was covered with flesh that was evidence of her sins."

Simon's voice was calm.

"The woman, parasitized by the flesh of the incriminating evidence, was frantically tearing at the man. A bearded man shot and saved me, killing the woman. He bent down to check the wounds of the young man who was being bitten. The young man who was being controlled shattered his right kneecap with a single shot."

He paused for a moment. The confessional was quiet, with only the hissing of the gas lamp.

"The old man was lying in a pool of blood. I was fighting with the fungal corpse and didn't have time to save him. There were five or six other sinners around. No one saved him, no one bandaged him, no one stopped his bleeding, and no one even glanced at him."

Simon's voice was completely flat.

"I killed the controlled man, dug out the flesh as evidence, and went to see the old man. He was already dead, having bled to death."

He pulled the necklace from a compartment in his backpack, held it up in his hand, the thin iron chain swaying under the gas lamp, the pendant spinning back and forth, the black-robed man and the boy in the photo appearing and disappearing in the light and shadow.

"This necklace was found in his pocket, kept close to his body, and worn smooth from being worn."

Andrei stared at the necklace without speaking, his metal fingers ceasing their tapping and hanging motionless at his sides.

Simon clutched the necklace in his hand, raised his head, and looked into Andrei's eyes.

"You ask me where I got it from? I got it from a dead man, a dead man who tried to save people but was abandoned by other sinners and bled to death."

Andrei's lips moved, but no sound came out. His Adam's apple bobbed, and his eyes flickered.

"Why should I believe you?" Andrei asked, his voice hoarse. "You killed him, stole his things, and made up a story to deceive me."

Simon did not rush to answer.

"In this abyss, all kinds of wealth are worthless, even gold bricks are no different from bricks."

He paused.

"I keep this necklace with me not because it's valuable, but because it reminds me that there are still kind-hearted people in this abyss who risk their lives to save others..."

"That kind-hearted uncle deserves to be remembered. I will remember his story and tell it to more people in the future, and they will remember him too."

Simon had read the doctrines of the "Ironwing Angels Cult" that these priests served, which included the idea that though the body dies, the name will not perish, and this was part of their doctrine.

Andrei stood there, motionless.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. When he opened his eyes, his light brown eyes were calm, like the surface of a lake after a storm; the water was still rippling, but the storm had long since passed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. "I apologize for my rudeness just now."

He stretched out his hand, not a mechanical prosthetic, but his own fleshy left hand, with a rough palm, large knuckles, and calluses on his palm worn white.

Anderson was just outburst-tempered and dangerous, but... he's ultimately a good man, and a good man who's in Simon's best interest.

Simon, disregarding past grievances, grasped that hand.

“Nathan,” Andrei said, “His name is Nathan. He was the first person to confess to me after I became a priest.”

He let go of her hand, leaned against the counter, and looked up at the ceiling.

"Three years ago, Nathan's gun accidentally discharged while he was working in a logistics warehouse, and the bullet went through his brother's chest. He was sentenced and imprisoned. I went to confess to him, and he knelt on the ground, crying like a child, asking me if he should die."

Andrei's voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself.

"I told him that death wouldn't solve anything. He should live to help others, save people, and spend his whole life paying off that debt. I put my necklace around his neck and told him to return it to me the day he finished paying off the debt."

He looked down at his metal right hand.

"Unexpectedly, three years later, the empire threw him into the abyss."

silence.

Andrei looked up at Simon.

"Can I have my necklace back?"

Simon handed over the necklace without hesitation.

Andrei took the necklace, gripped it tightly in his hand until his knuckles turned white.

He lowered his head, his lips pressed against his clenched fist, closed his eyes, and his shoulders were still trembling.

After a long while, he let go, tucked the necklace into his shirt collar, and pressed it against his chest.

Then he turned around and took out a rectangular, palm-sized object wrapped in oilcloth from the bottom drawer of the counter.

He pushed the oilcloth bundle in front of Simon.

"Take this," Andrei said. "When you encounter danger, open this and use what's inside to ask the Empire for help."

"Thank you." Simon glanced at the oilcloth bag, then at Andrei, and stuffed the bag into his backpack.

Andrei turned around, his back to them, and began to organize the ammunition boxes on the shelf. He moved slowly, picking up a box, wiping it with his sleeve, and then putting it back.

Klein glanced at Simon, who nodded in acknowledgment. The three of them packed their things and headed for the door.

The iron gate opened, and outside light poured in, hazy and carrying the damp smell unique to the forest.

As Simon stepped out the door, Andrei shouted from behind...

"Sinner, state your name! I will remember your name, and if you accomplish great things, I will also tell your stories."

"Simon, Simon von Alter," he replied.

Not only Anderson, but many people in the future will remember his name and never forget him.