The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live A Normal Life [EN]: Chapter 223

What Roman Dmitry just said was very different from everything they had argued before.

Count London might not be a traitor, contrary to the rumors. And Roman Dmitry might have actually resolved the Redford Kingdom’s debt.

That alone was shocking.

Hearing about innocent soldiers dying was terrible enough. But when Annabelle’s Orphanage was mentioned, it felt like too much to bear.

Annabelle. What kind of person was she?

At first, she gave food to children who had nowhere to live. As she helped more children, people started wondering if she was running an orphanage.

And so, Annabelle’s Orphanage began.

Annabelle didn’t hesitate to offer a safe place not only for children but also for anyone hungry who needed help.

The Saint of Redford. People admired Annabelle.

Even though the kingdom’s ruler didn’t care about the country’s safety, her good deeds were the only light in the darkness.

Therefore, it was unbelievable.

People murmured, looking dazed.

“…Count London is helping Annabelle’s Orphanage?”

“That can’t be. A man called a traitor couldn’t have sponsored Annabelle’s Orphanage.”

The way Annabelle’s Orphanage was set up didn’t seem possible.

At first, it was just about giving food. But as time went on, the good things the orphanage did were more than an ordinary person could handle.

People had doubts.

It didn’t seem logical, but they didn’t want to question it too much.

No matter the reason, the fact that Annabelle cared for people didn’t change.

Even in a chaotic world, they wanted to believe that someone like her existed in Redford.

But, if a traitor was helping Annabelle, what else could be true? The idea was too much to handle.

People had been praising Annabelle while also saying that traitors like Count London were ruining the country.

So, the riot happened.

Jacqueline was the first to shout out, her voice filled with anger. Everyone else agreed. They would fight because their enemy was Count London.

Everyone went silent, lost and confused, with dismayed faces.

Then, someone in a robe pushed through the crowd.

The figure in the robe slowly pulled back the hood. A hush fell over the crowd. Then, a collective gasp rippled through them.

It was Annabelle, the Saint of Redford. Her face was pale, and her eyes looked red-rimmed, as if she had been crying.

A man in the front, his voice trembling, called out, “…Lady Annabelle? Roman Dmitry… is it true what he said? Please, tell us it’s not. Tell us Count London, the traitor… he didn’t help the orphanage, did he?” His voice cracked with desperation.

Annabelle looked at him, her sorrowful gaze sweeping over the faces in the crowd. Slowly, she shook her head. “It is true,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Everything Roman Dmitry said… it is the truth. Please,” she pleaded, her voice gaining strength, “put down your weapons now.”

The citizens hesitated.

Even though Annabelle herself said it was true, they still hesitated. They were holding weapons to protect themselves, and it was hard to let go.

“I am not as great as you think,” Annabelle said. “I just shared some food because I couldn’t ignore the hungry children. One day, Count London came to see me. He said he had been watching my good deeds and would give money each month if I started an orphanage. That is the truth about Annabelle’s Orphanage that you don’t know.”

There was no doubt she was a good person.

Being good is important, but running an orphanage also needs money and practical help. It’s not just about being a good person.

“Running an orphanage is a practical matter,” she continued. “If I didn’t have the money to buy food and solve the problems of the people who helped me, I couldn’t have dedicated myself to the orphanage. I was just like you, someone who needed to work to live. I wanted to tell the truth about the criticisms against Count London. He sent money to the orphanage every month, even when he was being called a traitor.”

As she spoke, Annabelle choked up.

Looking at the confused people, she remembered her times with Count London.

“The title of Saint of Redford is too much for me. If it weren’t for Count London, I wouldn’t be here now. But when I asked why he didn’t tell the truth, he always said it was more important that ‘someone’ did it than ‘who’ did it. If I had known you would attack Count London, I would have told you the truth, even if he tried to stop me. He doesn’t deserve this. People don’t know the truth, but he deserves everything I have enjoyed. This is really not right.”

She didn’t want to blame the people. They didn’t know the truth.

But still, Annabelle couldn’t help but feel reproachful.

She was just a normal person. People had made her into something bigger than she was, but without Count London, she wouldn’t be where she was now.

After the riot, the children ran to the orphanage with happy faces.

Each child held up a shiny gold coin, smiling as they asked Annabelle to accept it.

What a warm gesture.

If Annabelle didn’t know that the gold coins came from Count London’s sacrifices, she might have smiled at the children’s kindness.

Then, she heard the truth, and her world fell apart.

Hearing that people had attacked him, she rushed to find Count London.

Roman Dmitry, who was there with Count London, told her what she could do to help him.

Annabelle said, “We have made such a big mistake. You didn’t see the truth, and I knew the truth but didn’t speak. Let’s not do anything we’ll regret anymore. Count London cares about the Redford Kingdom more than anyone else, and Roman Dmitry is here to help because Count London asked him to. This is the last chance. Please, put down your weapons.”

With those words, people fell silent, as if they were under a spell.

Roman Dmitry broke the silence. “The day you stormed into the mansion to attack Count London, I asked him why he didn’t tell the truth. The Redford Kingdom’s problems are not the London family’s fault. Why does he endure criticism while doing so much for the kingdom, instead of being called a traitor?”

That day.

The Earl of London spoke.

Hatred filled the air, a harsh reality pressing down on them all.

He explained that to save Redford, someone had to take the blame.

He continued, “He knew that if he told the truth, the blame would subside. But he didn’t. In this era of hatred, if the one to blame isn’t just a noble, but the king himself, this riot would become a rebellion and overthrow the country.”

He looked at Jacqueline.

Jacqueline had been very pale and looked confused since Annabelle arrived.

“Jacqueline,” he asked, “was this riot your intention? Only someone who knew inside secrets would know about the gold coins and the carriage route. Yet, you knew exactly where to be. Who told you? Is that person still here?”

“…What are you talking about!” Jacqueline glared back.

Jacqueline thought about it. Something was strange.

She had only complained as usual, but the pub owner seemed to be waiting for it, escalating the situation and inciting a riot.

It was the same when she visited the Earl of London’s mansion.

Jacqueline had been anxious that the situation would become serious because of the remarks hostile to Roman Dmitry, hadn’t she?

And now, as Roman Dmitry said, the pub owner was nowhere to be seen.

The one who told her the carriage’s route had vanished like smoke from the moment the gold coins were stolen.

“Perhaps the one who gave you the information has already disappeared,” Roman Dmitry said. “You had a chance to see the truth. It was strange that the source of the information was suspicious, and that ordinary people defeated aura swordsmen. If you had thought about it, you would have known. The meaning of this is clear: agitators are leading the chaos in Redford, and you have crossed a point of no return because of them. The Earl of London cares for the country more than anyone, yet innocent soldiers died and he bled because of your choice.”

The truth was like a slap in the face, cold and painful.

The purpose of 100,000 gold, Annabelle, and the fact that they were incited.

People couldn’t understand.

Stealing gold coins and being happy about it was a foolish decision that was ruining the Redford Kingdom.

Roman Dmitry said, “I will ask one last time. Is Jacqueline truly a hero of Redford?”

Is this what it feels like when your mind stops working?

A silence fell over the square. People looked at each other, confused.

Just a few minutes ago, they were angry.

They believed that attacking the Earl of London was right, and they joined forces to defeat Roman Dmitry, who was oppressing the hero of Redford.

The square was packed with people.

Hunger had marked their faces, but now their eyes burned with greed for the gold coins in their hands.

But then, the Earl’s words hung in the air, heavy and cold. The truth was different.

Roman Dmitry, the Earl of London. The name echoed in their minds. Slowly, confusion spread through the crowd. Their grip on their weapons loosened. Doubt crept into their eyes, replacing the anger.

A sword fell from someone’s hand, hitting the stone ground with a clang. Then another, and another. Clatter, clatter. Weapons dropped as the weight of the truth sank in.

They lost their hostility.

They could no longer hold their weapons, nor could they dare to face Roman Dmitry.

Their faces burned with shame, as red as fire.

Looking back, they realized how foolish they had been.

At the center of it all was Jacqueline.

As the one who led these events, she felt like she was going out of her mind, unable to handle the reality.

‘…I was incited. What have I done?’

Roman Dmitry’s words stabbed her in the heart.

He was right.

There was a chance to see the truth.

People criticized the Earl of London as a traitor, but he brought in outside help whenever something happened.

At first, they were hostile.

They thought he was exploiting labor, but he treated the outside workers with more care than they deserved.

At that time, Jacqueline asked a servant who had worked for the London family for a long time how life was here. The servant said,

“To be honest, I am happy with my life in the London family. I know people will hate me for saying this, but the Earl of London isn’t as bad as people say. He takes care of the servants better than anyone, and we respect him. So don’t hate him too much. No matter what people say, we know he’s not that kind of person.”

It was absurd.

Everyone criticized him as a traitor, but only the servants of the London family said different things, so she looked at them suspiciously.

Perhaps that was the price of comfort.

Since they didn’t have to starve in the shadow of London, she thought the servants had no choice but to be grateful to the Earl of London, no matter how much of a traitor he was.

She saw the truth.

She heard the truth.

She experienced the truth.

Some knew the truth without speaking it, but Jacqueline turned a blind eye.

The day she attended the party, even after packing food for his wife, he went to the pub and complained.

Perhaps it was a sense of inferiority about what he had not enjoyed.

Suddenly, she looked down at her hands.

The red mark that she had thought was a badge of honor now crumbled everything around her.

Like Roman Dmitry said, she had made an irreversible mistake.