Book of the Seven Celestials: The Third Prophecy

Chapter 7. Ralrain, One Of The Four Vassal States

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El's thoughts deepened as he turned to Ran, asking a question about the situation at hand. "So, what do you know about the people in the restaurant? What was their actual crime?"

Ran glanced at El from the corner of her eye. "Many versions are circulating, not only in the city but also in the underside. I'm not sure which one is true. One thing is certain, though: it has something to do with the nobility, as there is no trial to determine whether the accusations are right or not."

"I see…" El struggled to find the right words in response. His understanding of the nobility in the empire and their relationship with the commoners was only superficial, gleaned from the books lining the shelves of his room. There was no mention of the underside, the upper side, or the history between the two, save for what 'the man' had told him that day in the restaurant.

As they continued their journey, Ran posed another question. "You saw that female staff member in the restaurant, right? The one who brought me and the others to eat?"

"Yes, I saw her," El nodded.

"She is already dead," Ran stated flatly, her expression unchanged.

"What???" The revelation struck El like a jolt of electricity, coursing through him from his toes to the top of his head.

"It was three days ago when the others brought the news. Her body was hanged right in front of the mayor's office." Ran turned her face toward El.

Despite her impassive demeanor, El sensed a turbulence of emotions roiling beneath the surface. It was… fury. An intense rage radiated from Ran, evident even in her eyes. No, it wasn't just her; even without looking back, El could feel the cold anger from the others behind him.

After a silence that stretched for nearly two minutes, El finally found his voice. "… I… I… why??" The words tumbled out of his lips, a reflection of his confusion and turmoil.

Without answering El's vague question, Ran shifted the topic.

"That woman's name was Rima. Her biological sister is currently living with us on the underside. We don't know who spilled the beans to her about big sis Rima, so we had to tie her up in our base. She's passed out twice already from crying, yet she keeps trying to escape to the city."

El fell silent, his gaze fixed on the ground as he followed Ran's steps.

"You must be wondering why I'm telling you this, right?" Ran asked, turning her head to meet his gaze.

"… Yes…" El replied, locking eyes with her. His emerald eyes met her grayish ones.

"I wanted to see if what you said earlier was true. Now I'm sixty percent sure you're not from here."

"… Based on what?" El inquired.

"Your eyes!"

"My eyes??"

"Yes… Though it's still just a guess. Well, if you actually showed me signs that you were from the upper side… hmmmm…" As she spoke, Ran revealed her left hand, which had been hidden beneath the long sleeves of her faded grayish-blue sweater, oversized on her thin frame. In her grasp lay a small pocketknife, its sharpened edge glinting in the dim light of the alleyway.

"Nore's plan earlier wasn't bad either way," Ran resumed, her gaze fixed on El.

El, however, felt indifferent about it. The truth was that for the past few days, whenever he looked back at his actions—standing in a daze like a statue, staring at the barbed wire fences that separated the city from the underside—he had felt overwhelming urges to actually cross them.

Besides, Nore's plan, and his, let's say, underling, needed him to actually have parents. How could he have even gotten one?

And the silver Riel given to him by the man was safely stashed in a hidden compartment. He typically carried around only two coins at most whenever he wandered outside of the house.

So basically, their plan was a bust from the start, no matter how El viewed it.

"Uh-huh…" El absentmindedly replied. After exchanging glances again, he suddenly muttered under his breath—out of context from the current somber atmosphere. It was enough for Ran, who was at El's side, to hear it. "You are really pretty, though…"

"Huh…" Ran was caught off guard, momentarily dazed.

"I mean, you are really pretty. I swear you look like an angel…" El declared abruptly, a sincere smile gracing his lips. He raised his voice slightly, causing those behind them to pause, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment that had slipped from El's lips.

"???"

"!!??"

"… ??? … !!! ???"

"What the hell???" Sill and Nore exclaimed simultaneously, their jaws dropping in disbelief.

"Wha—why you… Why?"

Ran stuttered, her voice faltering as a crimson hue crept across her cheeks. It was even more apparent since most people El had seen from the underside had pale, sickly skin. But from El's brief observation, he was sure—Ran's skin was naturally fair. So fair that it made the blush even more visible on her face.

"Why? Of course, it's because you are pretty! What else?"

El replied guilelessly, with no shame on his face, blissfully unaware of the tension in the air. He sensed a mix of happiness and confusion radiating from Ran, though the undercurrent of anger was unmistakably more palpable.

To El, this seemed like a positive goodies-shoes sign. Anger minus happiness means joy, right? He thought his attempt to comfort her about the restaurant predicament was a brilliant move. He would do the same with the others if he had the chance. El proudly praised himself.

He recalled fond memories of his late aunt, who had always beamed with joy at his compliments. It all started because she had once told him that all women appreciated being praised as beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, cute, etc.

El remembered all of those words clearly—they were etched in the deepest part of his mind. They were the special secrets that could make his aunt happy and bring a smile to her weary face despite the hunger, thirst, and countless corpses surrounding them at that time.

'Surely, it will work on other women, too, right?' El mused inwardly.

Besides, he genuinely believed that his aunt was beautiful despite all of her wrinkles, and so it was with Ran. His aunt had been the one closest to El, so his inborn impulse, which was always ready to sing a choir of praises for women, gradually stirred awake from their deep slumber.

"Y-y-y-y-you, you…" Ran, stammered, mouth agape as she struggled to find the right words. Her previous inscrutable expression cracked at that very moment.

"Youyou?? What you?" El said, raising one of his eyebrows in genuine confusion. He then continued with the praises directed at her. Just like the saying, 'Strike while the iron is hot to bring the best out of it. Truly terrific, indeed,' El elatedly added inside his mind.

"Ummmm, anyway, it's your eyes especially. Your eyes are really pretty, like the… like… ummmhh... ah… like the stormy sea I once saw in a picture in my village. Full of depth and mystery. And… in short, you are really pretty, Ran. Beautiful. Or perhaps, if you don't like it—gorgeous instead…" El stated with a smile, pondering seriously which compliment would resonate best, especially as he noticed Ran's emotions slowly shifting toward exhilaration, which in turn filled him with glee too.

He didn't know what Ran thought about him at that moment, but for no apparent reason, El truly wanted her to become his friend. He would do his best to make her like him.

He had only one friend before, who had passed away from thirst, and now he was greedy for more of that thing called—friends. His late aunt had also advised him to befriend people his age in case he ever survived by any chance, and Ran seemed to fit the bill perfectly.

Her age must have been the same or around his, right?

After delivering all of those heartfelt compliments to the best of his current ability, El waited for Ran's reaction with eager anticipation.

He imagined that she would smile back at him and then say that she liked him, thanking El for comforting her when she was sad. After that, they would shake hands to seal the deal of their newfound friendship. Or a hug, perhaps. Or maybe a kiss on the cheek.

Then, they would become friends forever, living happily ever after together—just like what his last friend had said about having a girl around his age as a friend.

Even if one of them were to die earlier than the other, at least El would have one more friend to count on his fingers, about his experiences in life, and how he would go on to write later that day, in his notes about having two friends starting today.

And all that was pretty much the summary of what was going on inside El's head.

But the reality that soon dawned upon the poor, naïve, innocent El was far from his daydreams. Not a handshake, unfortunately. Not a hug, either. Nor a kiss on the cheek. Nor a smile or holding hands as their friendship grew stronger.

Instead, he was met with something altogether different. A swift, outstretched palm, fingers conjoined, flew toward El's cheek.

Uh yep. It was pretty much a slap at that point…

"You... pervert!!?"

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