Chương 52: Chapter 52: The Intruder
A man with curly long hair stood there, his complexion pale, eyes deeply set, and his nose high-bridged. His long hair was tied back, except for a few curls that hung loosely on either side of his face. He was holding an expensive camera, furrowing his brow in concentration as he crouched down, clicking the shutter repeatedly. Although Naples was near the sea, the temperature difference between day and night was significant, which might explain why the man wore a thick, dark blue wool coat, along with a red and blue checkered scarf wrapped around his neck.
Solomon's voice startled him so much that he nearly jumped, but the arcanist's hand firmly pressed down on his shoulder, preventing him from standing up.
"Who are you?" the man exclaimed, turning his head. Upon seeing Solomon, who was a bit shorter than him, the tension in his face quickly dissipated.
"Ahem!" he whispered to the arcanist, "It's dangerous here. I think you should leave now. Something beyond the comprehension of most people is about to happen. Are you with the choir? Or maybe the child of some bishop?"
"Do I look like some damned follower of a god?" Solomon glanced down at his attire. The black occult robe paired with a dark red cloak didn't exactly scream clergy.
Maybe?
Solomon raised his head. "For your own safety, I suggest you leave immediately. You have no way of defending yourself against what's coming."
Suddenly, the man felt the pressure of the hand on his shoulder increase significantly, an irresistible force pulling him backward and causing him to lose his balance, falling to the ground with a thud.
"Leave? No! I've been tracking her for too long!" Despite his lowered voice, he quickly regained his composure. "Those things? You know something about them?"
"I know what I need to," Solomon said with a blank expression, releasing his shoulder and instead grabbing the man by his collar. He started dragging him backward, ignoring the man's struggles.
"You know everything!" The man realized he couldn't overpower Solomon, but he still tried to stand up. "You're with her, aren't you?"
"I don't know who you're talking about, but if you mean the nun inside, then yes, I know her. Though I haven't known her for long." Solomon turned and effortlessly pressed the man's knee down with his foot, snatching the camera from his hands. "Clearly, you're chasing things an ordinary person shouldn't be aware of."
"Give that back!"
Solomon awkwardly fiddled with the camera, managing to pull up the photo album. "Oh, so you're a stalker, sir," he said, glancing at the pictures before holding the camera up for the man to see. "Florence. You followed her all the way there."
"Promise me you'll keep your voice down. There's still work to be done in here," Solomon said. "Now, where did you come from?"
The man, though agreeing to speak more quietly, couldn't help but raise his voice and speed up his speech.
"I've been tracking her for years! Twenty years ago, she killed my father, right in front of me! You've only known her for a short time, so you must not know her true nature. Twenty years ago, she looked exactly the same, and she hasn't aged a bit since then. You've been around her, so tell me, tell me everything you know! The world needs to know the truth about her! I investigated several disappearances in Florence, and Bayonetta was there at the same time. It had to be her…"
The man's expression twisted with fury. "Now I remember, you were there too! Does that mean…"
"That's right, sir." Solomon momentarily looked conflicted. "Those people didn't disappear. They died. I killed them."
"You… you're only…" The man gaped at Solomon, eyes wide in shock as he examined the boy standing before him. "I never thought you would…"
"Listen to me, sir," Solomon said wearily. "Those people were werewolves."
"Werewolves? You expect me to believe that nonsense? Fine, I'll humor you," the man sputtered, barely able to catch his breath. "But you look like you're thirteen or fourteen. Who taught you to kill?"
"Given that you've been chasing Bayonetta for years, shouldn't you be used to supernatural phenomena by now? Magic exists, so of course werewolves do too. Humanity is not as alone as you think," Solomon said with exasperation. "As for killing… someone has to bear the burden of dealing with things that regular people can't handle. I'm just one of them."
"I…" The man's expression was one Solomon had seen many times before. His senior apprentices at Kamar-Taj had described the same look on the faces of those who first encountered magic: disbelief as their understanding of reality was shattered. Nearly everyone who came to Kamar-Taj had gone through that experience.
"Alright, I don't have time to help you rebuild your worldview, sir." Solomon was starting to get annoyed as he hauled the man to his feet. "Get out of here. Those things won't show mercy to humans."
"Those things? What things?"
"Things you shouldn't know about, sir. There are some things that ordinary people are better off not knowing."
Suddenly, the candles on the altar were snuffed out, and clear moonlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting its pale light onto the white marble floor. Solomon's eyes widened as the abrupt darkness made it hard for him to adjust, but soon, he was able to make out the scene inside the church by the soft glow of the moon. Then, the church's organ suddenly blared Mendelssohn's First Organ Sonata.
"The 65th Symphony, and it's an Allegro," Solomon muttered, glancing at the organ. Only those with magical sight could see the man sitting at the organ—a large Black man. Though Solomon couldn't clearly see his features, the unmistakable orange trench coat gave it away: it was Rodin. Solomon was surprised. He had never imagined that Rodin could play the organ so masterfully.
Though Solomon didn't know when Rodin had arrived or why he was here, those details didn't matter right now. His only goal was to get the man beside him out of the church. Ordinary people didn't belong in situations like this.
A blinding golden light suddenly shone down from the dome, bouncing off the gilded and copper-plated architectural decorations, dispelling the cold moonlight and the darkness from every corner.
Solomon and the man were both temporarily blinded by the intense light. Their eyes instinctively filled with tears in an attempt to protect them from the glare, but their thin eyelids weren't enough to block it out. They had no choice but to bow their heads and shield their eyes with their hands.
But soon, the golden light vanished, and the pale moonlight returned to the church.
"What happened? Why did the organ start playing?"
Solomon found the man beside him to be even more irritating now. Once the arcanist had adjusted to the change in lighting, he saw that Bayonetta had already leaped into the air, standing atop the head of a newly descended angel. She climbed from one angel to another with graceful ease, twisting her body mid-air to avoid their sharp claws and weapons. She raised her long, powerful legs and kicked aside one of the Affinity angels' arms. Then, with incredible agility and flexibility, she grabbed that same arm and, using the force of gravity, twisted it off with ease, as if wringing a towel.
The angel's blood sprayed like a torrential downpour, yet before it could even touch the ground, it transformed into golden particles that floated upwards. The church's vaulted ceiling was now filled with gold light and white feathers, making it look less like a battle and more like a mass.
The bread and wine prepared for the sacrament had become the angels' blood and flesh.
"Where did she go?" the man leaned over the railing, scanning the area below. "Did she run off again? That murderer! No, I can still smell rosemary! She's still here! Is she hiding again?"
Solomon yanked the man's scarf and pulled him behind him, just as a golden spearhead was about to pierce through the spot where the man's head had been.
"Stay here!" Solomon ordered, releasing the man. He extended his hands, and two orange rings appeared around them. "And be quiet!"
Good morning.
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