<Episode 577> The Efforts So Far
"Hey, you rascal."
The old Moorish woman let out a hollow laugh.
"You are so greedy."
Grandmother stroked the crown of Ariadne's head. She flinched at the unexpected touch but did not pull away. Her touch held both affection and admiration.
Ariadne was the time traveler who brought about the most remarkable changes in nearly 200 years across all recorded cases.
“Look at your arms.”
At her grandmother's words, she raised her left hand. Ariadne was wearing long leather gloves that reached up to her elbows.
However, the red spots visible only to the two of them were densely covering the skin and expanding their influence to a height higher than what was covered by the gloves.
It was the image of herself that Ariadne detested terribly.
"The evidence of the change you brought about is right there."
"This... is a record of the karma I have committed."
Ariadne hated this red spot not merely because it was unsightly. It was a record of the evil deeds she had committed. The people she had killed or inflicted pain equivalent to that of them.
Even amidst all that, those who, at the very least, did not deserve to die in this life.
Before falling asleep, she would often gaze blankly down at her arm, lost in thought. What fate will I face to pay for all these sins?
Even the warmth of Alfonso, sleeping soundly beside her, could not alleviate the sense of hopelessness she felt at such times.
Her grandmother spoke in a gentle tone.
"I have watched you for a long time. There was nothing you did that was done in vain."
The young woman the old woman knew did not act out of pure selfish greed, nor merely spite, nor did she run wild intoxicated by power.
"You endured all of this to bring positive change to the Etruscan kingdom."
Ariadne let out a slight wry laugh. She hadn't done it intentionally.
"I didn't know it would turn out like this. And I didn't exactly become a national hero."
It seemed like I hadn't saved the country, yet people didn't treat me as if I had.
Ariadne was merely briefly robbed of the spotlight by the meteoric rise of the mistress, Isabella. The possibility of her becoming San Carlo's chewed-up dog bone remained open to her at any moment.
"The praise of people on the street is truly meaningless to me."
Some revered her for irrelevant reasons, such as calling her a saint, the mother of the poor, or a self-made commoner, but it was meaningless.
"I am not the saint they think I am, and if His Majesty the King passes away and the Prince ascends the throne, they will change their tune and criticize me as if nothing ever happened."
She had already suffered terribly in her past life. Ariadne knew now.
The reason she was the black sheep of society at that time was not that she was the illegitimate child of a clergyman, nor because she lacked dignity, nor because she was not as beautiful as her older sister.
There was great dissatisfaction from all walks of life regarding Regent Cesare seizing power, and this happened because she was the easiest target for Cesare's side to attack.
Ariadne was now risking her body and soul to save the Etruscan kingdom from its predetermined future demise.
"Even those who praise me do not know what I have offered or what I am fighting for."
She offered her arm as a sacrifice. And no one knew of her efforts.
"Yes. So, I dare to tell you that you are great."
The old Moorish woman stroked Ariadne's red arm.
“A true sacrifice.”
Overwhelmed by the praise, Ariadne froze on the spot with her arm extended. The grandmother continued speaking with composure.
"The Gon of Yesak, whom you believe in, is highly praised."
"...Because he saved humanity by sacrificing his own life."
"I don't see that as a sacrifice."
The old woman strolled slowly inside the barrier. Although there was a set time, her footsteps were endlessly leisurely.
"He traded his life for honor."
".....You look at Gon, the son of a Heavenly God, as if he were a very ordinary person."
"Well, since I am a stranger, to my eyes, he is just a historical figure."
She quickly turned her head and looked at Ariadne.
"My child, that is why I am so proud of you."
Ariadne had never once heard such words in her life. Not knowing how to react, she just stood there stiff.
"My child, you are such a wonderful child."
The old woman cupped Ariadne's cheeks with both hands. The grandmother's wrinkled hands were warm.
A life where one runs, dedicating one's body to a great cause yet goes unnoticed. A life that always remains in the darkness, unable to reveal to anyone what one has done.
Grandma whispered softly.
"You did quite well for coming back knowing nothing, my child."
Tears streamed down Ariadne's face without her realizing it. This was her first reaction to the first compliment she had ever heard in her life.
The grandmother continued to whisper to Ariadne in a low voice.
"The fact that you strive to the death, that you are selfless, and that you are filled with good intentions."
The small-framed grandmother wrapped her arms around Ariadne and hugged her.
"Even if no one else knows, I do."
At those words, tears burst forth like a flood. Ariadne bent over, rested her face on her grandmother's shoulder, and wept endlessly.
Amidst her sobbing, the occasional sound of the grandmother patting Ariadne's back could be heard.
"If those who have opened their eyes try to punish you for this karma, I will swing my staff and strike them, so do not be afraid."
Ariadne spoke with a mixture of tears and snot.
"Grandma, you'll get hurt if you keep doing that. You're such a wrinkled old lady."
The old Moorish woman laughed. It was gentle, yet it was the kind of laugh only a beast could make.
"Even this old woman has never lost."
It was true that she could not subdue those who had opened their eyes. That is impossible for a mortal bound by the cycle of reincarnation.
However, it was close to the truth that this priestess Salman was the strongest among those who wielded sorcery. She had not known defeat since she was a girl, not an old woman.
"You changed the direction of people's lives. Changing direction is a very big deal."
Even if you are off by just 1 degree from the starting point, the point you arrive at after running 100 pidies from there will be vastly different from the original location.
The old woman spread her ten fingers in the air and drew an imaginary spider web.
"The world is packed with cause and effect. What is meant to happen will happen."
Ariadne's expression contorted. She wanted to prevent the assassination of Queen Marguerite and the untimely death of Arabella. She had been confident that she could stop them all.
"So, is it not possible?"
Is it impossible to fundamentally overhaul the future?
However, the grandmother responded to Ariadne's question with a Zen riddle.
"Do you know this year's crop yield?"
Ariadne answered seriously.
"Yes."
Ariadne did not go out of her way to say how this year's weather would differ from the average year, or which crops would be abundant or scarce.
The old woman didn't ask either.
If it were CEO Vitelli, he would have asked even at the risk of his life. Everyone considered things to be so different.
Instead, the grandmother asked the following question.
"Can you change it?"
"...No."
No matter how much knowledge she possesses of the future, she cannot do anything about torrential rain, hail, or drought. This is especially true when it comes to national or continental scales.
"It's exactly the same thing. Some things can be changed by human power, and things that cannot."
The answer was that it was almost impossible to change rather than absolutely impossible, but there wasn't enough time to go into such detail right now.
"It may be impossible for us to understand, but it seems that the Grand Duke's fiancée losing a finger for some inexplicable reason is also one of those untouchable causals."
Ariadne's eyelashes fluttered. It was clearly fear. The old Moorish woman tilted her head and spoke.
"Why are you worried? You should be happy. It is actually a good thing that that foreign Princess lost her left ring finger."
"Yes?"
"The fact that that happened to the Princess means, in other words, that you escaped."
Ariadne's expression contorted.
"... Grandma."
The old Moorish woman hugged her young friend tightly once again. Ariadne was embraced by her grandmother without resistance. However, she whispered in a voice that was still trembling.
"Princess Manchike did not commit any crime worthy of having her fingers cut off."
She unconsciously looked at her left arm. There were so many red spots that she couldn't even be sure if they had increased.
Although she could not confirm if a new red dot had risen, Ariadne firmly believed...
"I pushed the burden that I was destined to suffer onto the Princess."
"Ari."
The grandmother pushed Ariadne away slightly and looked straight into her eyes.
"In your past life, did you ever commit a sin deserving of having your fingers cut off?"
Ariadne was speechless. She had killed Alfonso and purged the Prince's remaining forces. And she had placed someone unqualified in every aspect—legitimacy, ability, and character—on the throne of the Kingdom of Etruscan.
However, there was an indescribable contradiction in simply saying that a finger was the price.
A single finger was too light to be compared to the lives of countless people, and she had not offered her finger to the Prince.
It was simply something that Cesare had cut off—no, since she could not be certain that he had cut it off, it was a sacrifice made for Cesare.
She had committed no crime against Cesare worthy of having her fingers cut off. At least, that was what she thought.
Seeing Ariadne's shocked expression, the grandmother soothed her.
"Be a little more forgiving of yourself."
Being strict with others and lenient with oneself is proof of being a pathetic human being, but being excessively lenient with others and strict with oneself is not necessarily a good thing. This eats away at one's energy and stifles the possibility of unfolding one's potential.
"You don't have to keep everything to yourself and blame only yourself."
The grandmother held Ariadne in her arms once again and stroked her head.
"Don't look at your arm and think, 'I got this red spot because I did something bad,' but think, 'The shaman grandmother is so useless that she couldn't even perfectly heal a single scar.'"
Ariadne smiled slightly. Grandmother also finally smiled.
"And try to believe in the Golden Rule."
"Yes?"
Grandmother's smile turned into a spiteful smile.
"Their causality is so tight that it creates no innocent victims."
It meant that Princess Manchike had not been wrongly treated, or that she would not continue to be wrongfully treated in the future.
"Wait a moment. It seems this was not something you could change on your own."
And there was something else Ariadne could not change alone, besides the weather and the severed finger. It was the feudal lords' movement to refuse to pay taxes.
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