#trinityblood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaz-xedarix · 8 months

Text

The Mark of the Holy Woman. Episode 2

FINALLY!

In honor of the Trinity Blood Never Forget Day I wanted to upload as much as I can of the translation of R.O.M. IV, after three years of hiatus, I finally can finish at least this first part. I hate to keep promising stuff and ending up failing, but I want to finish this.

The theme of this year is "REBIRTH", so let's honor it by continuing my holy task.

This part may have mistakes, I wanted to post this as soon as possible so I didn't send it to correction before I post it, but I will send it and edit the post if necessary, remember you can point those mistakes too and I will gladly correct them.

We finally get to Episode 2: The Sorceress of the Temple. I hope you like it.

Enjoy ;)

EPISODE 2

The Sorceress of the Temple.

You, however, smear me with lies... JOB 13.4

"I have been informed of what happened, Archbishop D'Annunzio… It is a great misfortune," the man began to speak from the monitor.

Whether it was because of his vigorous body or the cutting light shone in his eyes, like a saber, it seemed that more than the Cardinal's habit, a military uniform would have fitted him better.

Francesco Di Medici, in charge of the internal affairs of the Vatican, watched them from Rome with his hands folded under his chin. One by one, he observed them all: Caterina, who was silent; Antonio, who was more concerned with fixing his hair than anything else; and Brother Petros, standing tall with the expression of a student who had forgotten to do his homework. Then he fixed his gaze on the Archbishop again.

“To think it have to be precisely during the performance of a commemorative play of the battle of Istvan that was allowed a vampire to attack... and that they had kidnapped the very Saint... Where was that Guard you are so proud of, Archbishop?”

"Your Eminence, I have no words to apologize for our negligence, but if you will allow me..." The archbishop lowered his gaze at the Cardinal's reproachful expression. However, he did not choked with the words, but replied coldly, as if he already had the excuse ready:

“Because of the presence His Holiness and Her Eminence the Cardinal Sforza the security was concentrated around them. Please forgive my mistake: I trusted that the Director of the Inquisition, who was in the place at the moment, would be able to take care of it.”

“Eh!? But I…!”

Hearing how he tried to blame him for what had happened, the warrior monk raised his bandaged head. Petros was going to answer the accusation, but seeing the reproachful look of his superior, he remained dejected and silent.

“It's... it's true that I was there... and I can't deny my responsibility for what happened...”

“I don't know if it's right to blame everything on the director of the Inquisition... Excuses go against the morals of a knight.”

The one who came out in defense of Petros, who bravely endured the accusations, was a sweet female voice. Caterina, who until then had not done much more than cough in front of the heater, continued speaking in a calm but determined voice.

“Brother Petros' duty was His Holiness' protection. The security of the theater was in charge of the Guard... Which means that the responsibility falls on them.”

«So, it’s on you... »

The accusation wasn’t said, but Caterina looked firmly to the Archbishop. If her gaze was colder than necessary, perhaps it was due to her weak state of health. Crossing her legs under the habit, the Cardinal brought the cup of tea to her lips.

“Anyway, we'll think about all that when there's time for it. Now we have more urgent problems... We must immediately locate Esther Blanchett and the vampire who has abducted her. The progress of this investigation will also determine if we can continue with the ceremony for the fallen as it was planned...”

“The ceremonies cannot be stopped. The events of tonight are an indelible stain on our image and we cannot seem weaker. We are already the laughingstock of the secular states” Francesco replied through the monitor.

From the office window could be seen the multitude of journalists and onlookers that crowded in front of the doors of the Istvan Cathedral, built as an archiepiscopal seat to replace the Cathedral of San Mátyás, which had been destroyed a year ago.

Even the Vatican had found it impossible to keep silent the more than a thousand onlookers who had witnessed the incident. The huge propaganda for the ceremony for the fallen was also working against them. The case had already come to light in all secular states and everyone was watching for the slightest movement from the Vatican. Showing weakness at the time would have led to a decisive loss of prestige.

“So everything must go as planned. We can't allow the goddamn media to laugh at us… can we, Cardinal Borgia?”

“Of course not” said frivolously from the sofa the Minister of Vatican Public Relations.

Antonio Borgia brushed a strand of dyed hair smugly from his face and smiled with a theatrical grin.

“I've already given orders for them to report that Sister Esther was abducted by a vampire, but that thanks to the work of the City Guard and the Inquisition she has already been rescued. Now she is supposed to be at the Central Hospital recovering. By the way, couldn't we have His Holiness go and pay her a visit later? This way it will have more realism and everything, you know?

“That will buy us some time...”

The Minister of Vatican Public Relations seemed to want to keep chatting, but Francesco waved him off and stared around the room, his eyes gleaming like a saber.

“In the meantime, we must find and eliminate the vampire and rescue the sister... The investigations of the Inquisition have obtained some very peculiar data. You can proceed, Brother Matthaios”

“Thank you, Your Eminence... Allow me to introduce myself. I am Brother Matthaios from the Inquisition” said one of the figures in the room, which had remained silent until then.

He was dressed with the robe of the inquisitors, but beneath his messy dark hair, his boyish face was placidity in person. Brother Matthaios, who had arrived from Rome barely an hour ago, shuffled forward as he picked out a folder of documents for all to see.

“Here we have the results of the analysis of the fractures in the walls and the floor. It appears that the weapon the vampire used is based on a special synthesized crystal with an extremely powerful piezoelectric effect.”

“Piezoelectric effect?”

D'Annunzio raised his eyebrows at that unknown word and asked the young inquisitor with exhausted eyes:

“What is that supposed to be?”

“It means that it can cause a kind of earthquake through electrical vibrations.”

The one who answered the archbishop's question was Caterina, who did not take her eyes off the documents. The Cardinal, famous in the Vatican for her encyclopedic knowledge, explained with grace, putting her finger on her temple:

“Quartz, zircon and barium titanate… are crystals that, under a certain tension, have a piezoelectric effect that can produce discharges, in the same way, if they are introduced into an electric field, they can cause the opposite effect.”

“Which means, shortly, that if electricity is passed to them they can produce vibration and if a tension is caused they can produce electricity” added Matthaios, for those who did not have the same technical knowledge as the Cardinal. Unfolding the documents like a science teacher, he showed his audience the corresponding diagrams. “For example, a common use for it is microphones. Through electrical impulses they produce vibrations, that is, they produce sounds. Last night's weapon uses these properties to the maximum power, the vibration takes the metals to the limit of their resistance and ends up melting them, which causes the destruction of the target.”

"Well, the truth is that those details, I…" said D'Annunzio weakly, stroking his eyebrows in misunderstanding and casting a nervous glance around the room. “The important thing is to know if that technology surpasses what we have. And it is clear that the vampire is an assassin sent by the Empire, as she said herself, right?”

“That might be a hasty conclusion, Your Excellence...”

The one who then expressed her doubts was Caterina, leaving the documents on the table, coughed slightly before continuing.

“It is true that the Empire is our mortal enemy, but it has been more than a hundred years since they caused an incident. There is no reson that they have to start right now.”

“They don't provoke... Not until now, it's true, but won't they start to feel threatened now that we've occupied Istvan?”

Antonio had spoken in a serious voice, extremely rare for him, at the same time that he pointed with his chin towards the map that was hanging on the wall.

Before Armageddon, the city could be proud to be one of the pillars of central Europe, but today it was no more than a border city of two hundred thousand inhabitants. The surroundings of the urban nucleus were full of uninhabitable ruins and the tunnels of the old subway were nothing more than dark caverns.

The vampire would not be short of places to hide, and spotting her in this terrain would be extremely difficult.

“But, well, whatever are the intentions of our enemy, the important thing is to capture the vampire... Is there any news about her possible whereabouts?”

“The city guard is working hard on it with their full force.”

As if recovered from nervousness, D'Annunzio finally raised his head and, tracing a ring around the city with his finger, explained:

“The routes out of the city are all blocked and there are checkpoints on all the railway lines. In addition, we are sending squads with anti-vampire equipment to the underground tunnels.”

“I see. They are very wise measures, but isn't it a bit risky?” asked Matthaios, after raising his hand in a humble gesture, scratching his head he continued with a worried face, “With your permission, the Guard has no actual combat experience and their anti-vampire equipment is very limited. Even if they find her, the probability that the vampire will end up killing them is very high… May I dare to ask you to accept that the Inquisition participate in the mission?”

“Brother Matthaios, I thank you very much for the offer, but right now it is only you and Brother Petros, rather, since Brother Petros is wounded, we only have you. As much as you are inquisitor, it doesn't change the thing too much either.”

“Just me? Oh, of course! There's something I haven’t told you yet...” Matthaios clapped his hands, as if he had just remember something important, he explained with crystal clear voice: “Precisely now there are waiting at the airport of István three aircraft that carry a few hundred special policemen. I myself have come with a detachment that was on maneuvers in Triest. Ah!, and by the afternoon we expect near to two hundred more men as reinforcements.

“What? Is that right?”

Considering that not even twelve hours had passed since the incident, the speed of the deployment was extraordinary. Not only D'Annunzio, but also Caterina and Antonio raised their eyebrows in surprise. However, the inquisitor remained smiling and his eyes calm.

“As they were on maneuvers, we still have to reorganize the chain of command and provide them with the necessary equipment, but I think it won't take long to solve these issues. Give me an hour and I'll have them ready for combat.”

“Well, what a speed of reaction… I didn't expect less from you, Brother Matthaios. I see that the rumors that you are the best commander the Vatican has are not false. Very different from another that I know.” (T.N.: I’m angry now, sorry XD)

D'Annunzio unexpectedly began to praise the inquisitor. Even if they were already on maneuvers, transporting five hundred men, an entire battalion, across that distance in a few hours and having them ready to go into action really demonstrated prodigious capabilities.

“Magnificent. If we can count on the collaboration of such an experienced corps as the special police and the leadership of an inquisitor with such talent there is nothing to fear. I leave it in your hands, Brother Matthaios.”

As the archbishop filled the inquisitor with praise, like a teacher encouraging his favorite student, a barely perceptible voice sounded behind him.

“And… me…?” (T.N.: my heart is broken 💔)

The warrior monk, who was slumped in a corner, raised his hand with some fear.

“Please allow me to join the operation and regain the honor I’ve lost last night. We will find the vampire and I myself will bring you her head...”

“No, you won't go, Petros.”

The one who flatly rejected Petros' request was not the archbishop. On the monitor, Francesco was shaking his head sternly.

“The operation can be conducted by Matthaios alone. You look for the safety of His Holiness.”

“Eh!? But, Your Eminence…! I…!”

“Don’t get me wrong... it is not that I don’t trust you...”

The truth is that the expression of Francesco cannot be matched with someone who rebukes a subordinate. However, the veteran knight spoke with a firm voice, which did not admit reply. He nailed the sharp stare on Petros, then he explained clearly:

“As long as we have not captured the vampire, the chances that she will attempt to attack His Holiness' life are very high. In anticipation of this contingency, there must be someone by his side capable of protecting him. That's what I mean.”

“Eh…? But...”

Il Ruinante lowered his head at the stern, if not cold, words of his superior. First he blushed, and then he turned pale. With a pained look on his face, he muttered through clenched teeth:

“Understood... as you command, sir...”

“I've said it before: All of this should be kept hidden from the media. If they find out, they can do irreparable damage...” Francesco concluded, after looking at Petros and Matthaios.

The Cardinal had a determined but nervous expression, unusual for him. It wasn't strange. An error in the management of that problem would make it turn into something much worse than a simple incident that occurred in the provinces. At worst, it could end up affecting the power of the Vatican itself.

Looking out at the high ranks gathered in the room, the man whose iron arm held the Vatican in place repeated in a grave tone:

“An imperial noble has kidnapped our Saint... This is not a simple vampire attack, it could become the spark of a new crusade, we must be prepared for anything.”

“What has happened, Your Eminence?”

When Caterina returned to her assigned room, the silver-haired priest got up from the sofa impatiently. He would have not slept all night, because he was nervously looking at his superior, looking pale and haggard.

“What are the instructions? How are we going to proceed with the search?”

"The Ministry of Holy Affairs* does not have the right to participate in the operations..". (*T.N.: Need to check the correct name to be consistent)

Caterina coughed lightly as she handed her cardinal miter to the other priest in the room: Father Tres Iqus. The cold was very intense. After sitting down in front of the heater, she slowly caught her breath.

“The search will be carried out by the Inquisition and the special police. We will take care of the protection and assistance of the Pope.”

“Wha... but the one who has been kidnapped is one of ours!”

With a violent cry, very rare of him, Abel had turned even paler than Caterina. His voice, excited and trembling, revealed that he had spent the night awake, remorseful for having allowed a companion to be abducted before his eyes.

“Who has decided something so stupid as the companions of the abducted cannot participate in the search!? Right now Esther may...”

“Calm down, Abel...”

Caterina tried to calm the priest with a serene voice, he looked like he was going to get out in a rush at any moment.

Normally, the priest was so calm that he exasperated others, but this time the guilt was probably too strong. Trying to ignore the dark feelings that were beginning to bubble inside her, the Cardinal looked at the hysterical priest and explained calmly:

“I think it goes without saying that Sister Esther's safety comes first for me. She is a key agent who brought back invaluable information from the Empire. Losing her now would be a tremendous blow.”

“But we can't ignore His Holiness' protection either...”

The monotonous voice that joined the conversation was Tres’. The mechanical soldier continued speaking without any trace of feeling about the possibilities they had:

“As long as the vampire is within the city, the chances that her next target will be the Pope or Her Eminence are very high. If an attack did occur, we would be responsible. It must be avoided at all costs.”

“Okay, so you can stay with the Cardinal, Father Tres” Abel answered immediately, preparing to leave the room.

This abrupt manner of speaking was not at all normal for the priest.

“In the meantime, I'll go find Esther around the town! Since I was here a year ago, I know the streets a little. Not that I'm going to wander aimlessly...”

“Negative. It is not advisable to disperse our combat capabilities, Father Nightroad. Our goal is to protect His Holiness and Her Eminence. We must also count on Cardinal Borgia. It is physically impossible that one can cover alone all the three objectives at a time. The minimum necessary is two units, which are you and me.”

“Eh…?”

Faced with the cold but exact reasoning, the silver-haired priest was speechless. He tried to think of a reply, but finally remained silent. Anyway, he turned decisively towards Caterina, with a face of not giving up, and looked with imploring eyes at his superior:

“Please... Your Eminence... I... Esther...”

“No. Impossible, Abel… I mean, Father Nightroad” Caterina said, shaking her head calmly at the priest's pleas. “I fully understand how you feel. I am also very worried about Sister Esther. But the vampire is still among us. If she attacks again, who will be here to defend us against her? Who will defend me and Alessandro? Only you can do it. Also, Abel...”

The priest bit his lip at the calm reprimand. In his watery eyes danced the image of those whom he had to protect. The cardinal cast her last sentence towards that gaze like a winter lake.

“Is it worthless for you to defend us?”

“...”

As if he had strings and they had been cut, the young man dropped his eyelids. He closed his eyes tightly and his face, with the expression of someone who had just drank poison, was drained of all color. But his lips opened one more time just to spit:

“Coward... That's a coward answer, Caterina... I can't believe that...”

After whispering those words, the priest went to the door.

“Where are you going, Father Nightroad? We are in the middle of a meeting. Come back immediately!”

The voice scolded Abel harshly, but he ignored it and reached for the doorknob. Without changing his expression, Tres quickly caught his partner in front of the door...

“You don't have to follow him, Father Tres” the Cardinal said, stopping the short priest with a gesture. “Even if we don't chase him, Father Nightroad won't abandon us… I know how he is”

What was that expression that crossed over the beautiful woman's face? Disgust with herself, anger...? A veil of pain darkened her face. But it was only an instant. Recovering her serenity immediately, the Cardinal ordered her subordinate:

“Father Tres, take care of the cathedral. I have to solve some matters and then accompany His Holiness to the Central Hospital. Take care of the preparations.”

“Positive.”

Even after receiving the orders, the mechanical soldier remained standing for a moment, as if to say something, but in the end he withdrew silently through the same door his companion had used.

After verifying that the rhythmic echo of the boots had died down the hall, the Cardinal leaned against the back of her chair. Bringing the handkerchief to her lips, she coughed slightly...

“A despicable woman…” she groaned softly between her lips in a hoarse voice.

She had coughed so badly that her voice heard broken. Seeing the slight reddish stain that had appeared on the white lace of the handkerchief, on her face there was no shadow of the Lady of Steel that caused terror to all.

“I am… I am a despicable woman.”

Still coughing, she tossed the bloody handkerchief into the fireplace.

∙∙∙·▫▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫▫ᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒ·∙∙·▫▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫▫·∙∙∙

Thank you for your patience, see you next time!

If you find some mistake, please let me know in comments, don't forget to ❤ and reblog.

Stay safe guys. Hugs!

#trinityblood #trinityblood translations #fan translation #brother petros #abelnightroad #abel and esther #caterina sforza #tres iqus #esther blanchett #tb never forget #sorry i almost forgot

28 notes · View notes

jaz-xedarix · 3 years

Text

The Return of the Star

So here we are. Finally after sooo many years of hiatus, I am able to go back to the action by translating this amazing work from our beloved Mr. Yoshida.

I want to thank to the proof readers that helped me checking this English version. As you know, English is not my mother tongue and plus it is not perfect at all, less in this late times that I haven’t talk at all with English speakers as before, as you see I manage to comunicate with you quite well but it is different when one need to comunicate someone else’s ideas XD So there might be some little mistakes in this text, feel free to tell me if there’s something wrong with it.

As for some words, one of them that is still making some noise in my head is “Hansom”. Usually I use google translate to help me with the job and usually it gives me some words that I have never seen before and that’s why I depend on you guys to help me correct XD So mr.G.Translate said “hansom” is “a two-wheeled horse-drawn carriage accommodating two inside, with the driver seated behind.”. And you can find this word a couple of times in this text, and reading the novel I think this is the best word for it, if there’s another word for it, please tell me.

Maybe this is the only word I had trouble with. Anyways I hope you enjoy this as I did translating this for you guys.

Thanks so much to Buffalo Borgine and Lamy for helping me correcting the text. ❤ Part II is in process, so wait for it soon ❤ So, with no more to say, here it is:

----------------

And I have given to them

knowledge of your name, and will give it,

so that the love which you have for me

may be in them and I in them.

JOHN 17.26

“Aaahh, I can't take it anymore!”

“Why are you whining again, father?” Esther Blanchett asked, in an annoyed tone to her companion, who was putting on a face like a man condemned to death.

Surrounded by the steam from the train, halfway down the ladder, she turned her slightly tanned face towards her interlocutor.

“Don't waste your time and come down immediately. If you stay there, you will disturb the other passengers.”

“Esther... couldn't it be possible for me to go straight back on this train?”

The evening light that was filtering through the stained-glass ceiling of the international arrivals platform had a reddish hue. In the wintry air, hard as a witch's kiss, the station passengers and employees moved busily.

The one who continued to complain stubbornly was the tall priest with the rebellious silver hair who accompanied Esther. If he had been quiet, it could be said that he was attractive, but he did not leave his miserable expression as he descended from the train with a suitcase in each hand.

“What is this so urgent that the Cardinal wants? If it's a report, we could have done it in Rome. Coming just here... I have very bad omens. I know something horrible will happen to me again.”

“Father, isn't it a common thing for Her Eminence to scold you? I thought you were used to it.”

Father Abel Nightroad nodded, still murmuring as Esther shook her long red hair theatrically. After a year of working together, she had already learned that there was no point in reasoning with this complainer. Lifting her suitcase with both hands, the nun started down the platform, expressionless.

The international arrivals area was packed with people. The participants of the ceremony that was to be held three days later must have been arriving. All the travelers carried large suitcases, and the air was filled with incomprehensible conversation. In the midst of the confusion, the nun began with a steady pace...

“Ahhh...!”

Feeling the night air in her lungs, Esther heaved a little sigh. As if finally realizing where she was, she stopped dead and looked out of one of the station windows.

“Sure... I'm back...”

The landscape that unfolded before her eyes was not that of Rome, where she has spent the year before. It was neither the one in Byzantium, where they had been until a few days ago, nor the one in Skopje, where they had stopped that day. The city surrounded by gentle hills and crossed by a meandering river was certainly like Byzantium or Rome. However, the twisted capitals and ceramic tiles gave the panorama a personality of its own, it was the landscape that had surrounded Esther for as long as she could remember.

The city of Istvan, protectorate of the Vatican.

It was the easternmost of the cities controlled by mankind… and the place where Esther had grown up.

“Nothing has changed... nothing...”

Facing the city that she saw again a year later, Esther heaved another sigh.

She had changed a lot, but her city remained the same. The running of the Danube, the cracks in the cobblestones... The sweet evening light embraced the same landscape that Esther had left back a year before.

However, even if you thought your city was still the same, could you feel at ease? There she had sad and painful experiences, the memory of which made her suffer. Maybe that was inevitable when one returned to one’s homeland...

“Aaaaah, what did they get me this time?”

The young woman was now absorbed in her warm memories but she came to herself as a rumbling voice rose like coming from the depths of Hell. Annoyed, she turned, and was met by a long figure who was sighing wistfully. The spectacled priest stroked his hair like a bad actor of tragedy who wanted to convey the idea of bearing all the pain in the world.

“Have they heard that I've set up a garden at the seminary? Or have they discovered those peaks that I added to the invoices...? Aaaah, Lord, protect your servant! Can't get them to turn a blind eye?”

“I have the feeling that before you became religious you were already a failure as a human being...”

Lord! That she could not even have a moment of peace being with that companion! Esther sighed deeply, feeling sorry for herself. Come to think of it, it was precisely in that place where she had seen the father for the first time, a year ago. That meeting had been the beginning of the person she had become. Under normal circumstances, it would be a very important memory. Why was she unable to get excited?

“But the truth is that you have some reason, father…” Esther continued speaking, being careful not to meet her eyes with her companion’s. “Why did Her Eminence make us come to Istvan? Even if they do the ceremony for the fallen, we don't have to attend ourselves… Do she want to hear the report about the Empire as soon as possible?”

“If that's just it, we'll be in luck... To get back to Rome from Skopje, going through here doesn't mean much of a change in route in terms of distance either. But the Cardinal does not like to change plans. That she had given a counter order is extremely rare... Aaaah, they must have caught me on something!”

At the surprised look of the nun, the priest squatted and clutched his head.

Two days before, once their mission was completed in Byzantium, they had reached Skopje, capital of the Marquisate of Macedonia. According to the original instructions, from there they were to take the road that go straight to west, to Rome. However, he had received an encrypted message ordering them to change their plans: «Instead of going back to Rome, go to Istvan to participate in the ceremony for the fallen. Report your mission when we meet».

The ceremony to which the message referred was in honor of the fallen in the battle of Istvan the previous year. It was promoted by the Archbishop of the city, the Vatican's Public Relations Minister, Antonio Borgia, and Pope Alessandro himself were going to be present. As Secretary of State, Cardinal Caterina Sforza was also going to participate, and that is why she was in the city at the time. In that regard, meeting in Istvan to present the mission report made sense.

What Esther did not understand was something else...

«Participate in the ceremony for the fallen.» Why had she explicitly summoned them to participate in the ceremony? Those who organized it were the Archbishopric and the Ministry of Vatican Public Relations. Esther, who worked for the Secretary of State, had nothing to do with them. Could it be that there was a new mission? Telling the truth, it looks a little strange

“Well, the easiest thing will be to ask the Duchess of Milan directly… Hurry, father.”

The agglomeration was considerable. If they didn't hurry out of the station and take a hansom, they would have to walk to the hotel the Secretary of State had reserved for them. To try to avoid it, Esther forcibly lifted her partner. Taking the tickets from the two of them, she headed purposefully toward the checkpoint.

“Staying here raving doesn't help much either. We have to meet with the Cardinal at once and make your report.”

For security reasons, the international arrivals platform was separated from the outside by revolving doors. Esther showed the officer her passport, which identified her as an employee of the Holy See, and quickly went through the doors to go outside. While the priest went through the same process, she turned to look for a hansom.

“Sister Esther!!!”

A brutal, deafening scream rose around her.

At the same time, her eyes were filled with white lights. She didn't even have time to realize that it was the flashes of a multitude of daguerreotypes. The nun turned her face away as a wave of voices washed over her.

“Sister Esther! Finally, you are here! A few statements, please!”

The chorus of voices followed by a crowd of men and women armed with notepads and fountain pens. Dazed by the flashes, Esther couldn't make out their facial expressions, but it didn't seem like those violent voices were directed at her by mistake or that it was all an elaborated joke. Among the mass crowded around the nun and the priest, the flashes continued to shine.

“Eh, eh?”

But what was happening?

Esther was stunned, surrounded by the sparkles.

All those people seemed to be reporters and journalists. Those who carried that heavy tape recorder, were they from the radio? They were of all ages and aspects, but they all wore press passes issued by the Ministry of Vatican Public Relations on their chests. But why would the media be so interested in her?

Stunned by events, Esther could do nothing but stand there. It was then that a laughter rang out behind them.

“Heh, heh, heh! Finally, my time has come! At last, the world recognizes my charisma!”

Abel, who had been just as surprised as she, began to show off with a boastful air, turning so quickly it looked like he was about to break a bone, he offered the cameras the profile he thought suited him best.

“Hello everyooone! As I see that you are so interested, I am going to tell you some secrets about myself. My full name is Abel Nightroad. I am an itinerant priest of the Vatican. I am Virgo and my lucky number is 13. Regarding my career, I am precisely considering writing some memoirs that… Eh !?”

With a cry like a toad, the priest was swallowed up by the mass of journalists who huddled mercilessly. Ignoring his painful moans, the reporters began bombarding Esther with questions, who remained motionless in the center of the crowd.

“Sister Esther, what impressions do you have when you return to your homeland?”

“It's been a year since you finished with Gyula, how do you feel now?”

Screaming echoed through the clicking sound of the flashes. Unconsciously, Esther recoiled from the throng of journalists and cameras.

“What... what do you want?”

When her brain began to function normally again, she realized that the goal of all this was her. But why? What did all those journalists expect of her!? She was just a simple nun!

Esther's questions were immediately answered when a middle-aged journalist, dressed in a dirty coat, showed her a piece of paper.

“Sister Esther, have you had a chance to see the script for this new opera? Do you have any comments about it?”

“Eh... huh...!? I do not have any idea of what is happening... An opera...? What opera!?”

Looking at the paper, Esther stood with her mouth open with the surprise.

It was a flier printed in high quality paper. One couldn't say that the colorful design or the propaganda phrases were the best taste, but whatever. More than that, what stunned Esther was the central illustration.

Against the background of a striking cross, a beautiful nun struck down a man with a sword blow, dressed in aristocratic clothes, the fallen one twisted his monstrous face and showed two long fangs between his lips. And the legend of the drawing said:

«The Star of Sorrow. Next release. Saint Esther and the devil Gyula: An apocalyptic fight!!! ». But what does this mean?!

“It is a commemorative work for the liberation of Istvan, Sister Esther. It represents your fight against the vampire... Didn't you know anything about it?”

The journalists looked at her, puzzled, but Esther didn't realize it. She was not for those things. Squeezing the paper in her hands, she tried to put the chaos of her thoughts in order.

“Saint Esther?”

But where did that come from?!

“Well, it's a very important work...” continued the journalist, with a certain pride in his voice, as if he were the scriptwriter himself. “Not only the casting, but also the production has had the support of the Ministry of Vatican Public Relations. The script was written by the Archbishop of Istvan himself and a budget of one million dinars has been invested. Tonight is the premiere... Ah! Is it for that why you've come today?”

“Eh? Well, no…”

At the question, Esther only had the strength to shake her head.

What was happening before her eyes seemed so unreal that it would be said that she was dreaming it. She wanted to return to her hometown to walk quietly through the streets again, visit the bishop's tomb, go to greet the families of her fellow partisans one by one... As she remembered her plans, a distant noise made her come to her senses.

“Sister Esther Blanchett,” a monotonous voice sounded over the sound of a horn.

Looking for that familiar voice, she saw that, beyond the mass of journalists, there was a car parked. The face staring at her from the driver's seat was one she knew all too well.

“Father Iqus!?”

“The Duchess of Milan has ordered me to come and find you. Get in the vehicle, please” explained Tres Iqus, Ax Gunslinger's agent, with his hands on the wheel. “Ignore the media and present yourself immediately. Those have been the words of her eminence. Get up at once. The Duchess awaits you at the Opera House.”

“Agree!”

What was all the fuss about? And what was the Duchess doing at the Opera House?

She had many questions in mind, but she nodded and followed the instructions she had been given. Her superior's orders were clear and Caterina herself would surely know how to explain something more about that bad taste joke.

“Father Nightroad, get up, we're going!”

“I ... it's my moment... I'm so charismatic...”

Dragging Abel, as if he were another suitcase since he was still semi-conscious, Esther ran with all her might amidst the rain of flashes and questions from journalists. Without turning to the chasing mass, Esther yelled as she approached the car:

“Father Iqus, open the opposite door!”

They had not seen each other for three months, but now was not the time for long greetings.

“Who they're chasing is me… I'll meet you later, but decoy me now, please.”

“Understood. Request fulfilled.”

The short priest did not hesitate for a moment. Probably, thinking about the possible courses of action, his circuits had reached the same conclusion as Esther. Quickly opening the other door, he added:

“Current time: eighteen-zero-zero. The Duchess of Milan is in the Opera House. Head there as soon as you can. I will mislead the media.”

Nodding firmly at the cold but confident voice, Esther let her luggage into the back seat and ran out the other side of the vehicle. Just when she had finished hiding behind some construction materials there, she adjusted the bonnet around her head, the car started.

“Wait, Sister Esther! Some statements!”

The plan worked and the journalists came out in droves after the vehicle that had left behind only the smell of the tires burned. Those who had been so sufficiently farsighted were set up in their own cars, and the other took hansoms. Between the whirlwind of yells and engines, no one noticed the place where the nun had hidden.

“They've already left...”

After checking that everyone had moved away, Esther got up and dusted herself off.

“What did it all mean?” Looking at the flier again, the young woman bit her lip.

«Commemoration of the first anniversary of the liberation of Istvan».

«Saint Esther».

«Devil Gyula.»

Esther crumpled the paper into a ball and put it in her pocket. Those sensational expressions had left a very unpleasant impression on her chest.

She had to speak to the Cardinal as soon as possible. She had to talk to her and hear from her own lips the truth about all this charade...

“Wait, Sister Esther, I still have a question for you”, a hoarse voice stopped her just as she was about to walk.

Turning around, she found a man in a soot-stained coat. It was the same journalist who had given her the flier earlier, so he was the only one who had noticed her ploy.

“I expected no less from the young woman who defeated the Marquis of Hungary. You are very clever. And thanks to that I have my exclusive… Ah, but I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Clement from the Picadilly Gazette in Albion.”

The man handed her a yellowish business card. Although he was smiling politely, he did not miss the opportunity to scan the young nun with his eyes.

“I've told you before that I don't know what you're talking about,” Esther replied, somewhat frightened, instinctively turning her face away from that penetrating gaze. “If you want to know more about the ceremony, I recommend that you go directly to the cathedral, Mr. Clement. I don't know anything...”

“No, no, what interests me is your personal circumstances, sister.”

So the one who smiled slightly mockingly at her on the deserted street was one of those famous paparazzi from the gossip press.

“I've been investigating your family... I know you were abandoned as a child and that the bishop raised you... Vitez, was her name? Therefore, do you not know who your real parents are?”

“I... I know something about my father...”

What right this man have to intrude like this in her private life? Lifting her face decisively, she snapped:

“But I only know he was from Albion. Are we finished with the questions, Mr. Clement? I'm in a hurry. We will talk another time.”

“Well, well, you don't have to be like that either.”

However, the journalist did not seem to be affected by her serious tone. Still smiling, he took a few yellowed sheets from his pocket. They were official documents of the city council, as indicated by the seals with the emblem of the city.

“What do you think this is? It's a copy of your birth certificate, which was filed at the town hall. According to these documents your father was Edward Blanchett, knight bachelor of Albion. The lowest rank of the nobility...”

“But how did you…?!”

Seeing the documents the journalist had, Esther flushed with anger and her breathing began quickening. She stood up to face him and said:

"Give me that! You have no right to snoop there!”

“If you tell me what I want, I will give it to you soon. It costs me a lot of money to get this copy. I cannot give it to you just like that. So... back to what we were talking about...”

Clement laughed, satisfied, as if enjoying the fact that he was once again in charge of the conversation. Waving the paper in the air, like a lure, the journalist continued:

“Well, your father was Edward Blanchett, but do you know what kind of person he was?”

“Didn't I tell you that I don't know anything else about him!?”

“Oh yeah? Well, me neither. And I am not the only one. In fact, absolutely no one knows anything about him. Because the truth is that he never existed…”

“Eh?”

Esther had reached out to grasp the document, but stopped short. She furrowed her eyebrows and stared at the reporter. What did he mean by “never existed”?

As if enjoying his interlocutor's confusion, Clement continued to speak slowly.

“According to our investigations, there is no trace in Albion of an aristocrat named Edward Blanchett. We have examined the noble records, the files of appointments, even the secret documents of the Institute of Heraldry, but there is no trace of anyone named that.”

“Uh... huh... But that...”

Hesitantly, Esther tried to find a way to answer him.

The truth was, she had consciously avoided investigating her father. Because of her work, she wouldn't have had a difficult time if she wanted to know more about him, but she was afraid of what she might find.

However, Clement's words were too impressive to ignore. Had there never been a nobleman named Edward Blanchett?

“Of course, identity theft or falsification of one's own past are not so rare things either. He would not be the first to arrive in the provinces and say that he is an aristocrat from a distant country... But there is one thing that intrigues me: that he used the name Edward Blanchett eighteen years ago...

“??”

It was clear that it was a trap. Even she is aware that the verbiage of her interlocutor was captivating her, Esther tried not to escape. In fact, she even encouraged him to keep talking with a fearful question:

“What puzzles you, Mr. Clement?”

“Well, now is when you and I can do business, sister.”

Seeing that his prey had swallowed the hook, the journalist shook the documents again and continued to speak slowly, showing nicotine-stained teeth.

“Why don't you join me for a moment? It would be better to go to a quiet place, where we can talk without being disturbed by anyone.”

“B... but now I don't have time...”

“Are you not interested in the deal?”

Clement's gaze narrowed like a reptile locating its prey. With a theatrical sigh, he put the document back in his pocket.

“Then there is nothing to do. I will publish the results of my research in my next article. «The secret of the origin of the Saint»... Ah, I'll send you a copy when it comes out. Do I send it here, or better to your office in Rome?”

Esther tensed her face and, instinctively taking her arms to her chest, moaned:

“Are you trying to threaten me!?”

“Ah, I see you have understood perfectly, sister,” replied the journalist, as if enjoying the young woman's reaction. And he added in a threatening tone: “You come with me now and you grant me the exclusive, or your father's secret...?”

“Threatening others using family secrets is not a very respectable hobby, sir.”

The voice that echoed in the twilight was contrasted with Clement's in its serenity. Turning quickly, the veteran journalist encountered a man who was slowly shaking his head.

“And more in the case of an innocent sister like this… Is it that those of your profession don't know the meaning of the word moderation?

“And who are you?”

Looking up, Esther saw the dark shape of a man.

He looked to be in his early thirties. His shapely face and the black Inverness coat that wrapped him were impeccable. Under his dark hair, intelligent black eyes shone through silver glasses.

“I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. My name is Isaac Butler. I am a steward of one of the aristocratic houses of Londinium.”

The young gentleman lifted his top hat with his cane as he bowed gracefully.

“I did not mean to meddle in your affairs, but I was waiting for someone and by chance I overheard your conversation. Sir… Clement, right? The truth is that I cannot praise your professional ethics too much. Thus violating people's privacy and using it as a tool to threaten others… You should be ashamed.”

“What does it matter to you!?” The journalist snapped, looking at him with hyena eyes, in a tone that sounded more like a bully than anything else. “If you go where they don't call you, you can get scalded… Besides, I'm not threatening anyone. Here we are just talking without any coercion. I have not done anything bad.”

“Taking unauthorized copies of someone else's birth certificates is a crime,” Butler muttered, raising his hand. Seeing what was in it, Clement was dumbfounded.

“B... but when did you...?”

The butler showed him a paper stamped with the city hall letterhead.

Clement reached into his pocket, but… Esther's birth certificate was missing!

“Y… you're a thief! Give me those documents back immediately!”

The paparazzi paled for a moment and then turned red. Showing the teeth in a horrible grin, he reached for the man to try to forcibly get back the paper... but did not even touch it. There was a thud, and the journalist rolled on the ground.

“Good work, Guderian” whispered Butler to the man who had appeared like a wall between him and the reporter.

He was a somber man with gray hair. He was not too tall, but his body was athletic, and his pupils had a flash of predator gleaming. He made a move to approach the paparazzi, but Butler stopped him with a gesture and politely addressed the fallen man:

“Good, Mr. Clement. My companion, Mr. Guderian, is, unlike you, a gentleman, but he is also very ruthless. I do not recommend that you face him hand to hand...”

The butler lit a pipe and began to smoke while he continued speaking indolently.

“Besides, don't you have anything more important to investigate than disturbing the young lady? For example ... Oh yes! They say that this year the damage caused by the wolves has been extraordinary, after feeding on the corpses of the war last year, it seems that the wolves have begun to attack the cattle and the inhabitants of the place. Isn't that interesting news?”

“...”

Clement sat up, eyes full of hatred, but careful to take enough distance.

“Okay, I'll go... But sir... Butler was it? I never forget a face. We will meet again. You'll see what it means to antagonize with the media...”

“I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again. Until next time, Mr. Clement.”

As if he had instantly forgotten the reporter who had cursed him, the man quickly turned to Esther. Slightly bending his waist with a smile, he respectfully offered the document which the journalist had used as a bait.

“What a bad night you’ve had, sister!”

“T... thank you very much, sir...”

Did they know each other before?

With a strange feeling of having seen the man somewhere, Esther lowered her head as she thanked him and took the document he offered her.

“Lucky you have appeared. I will never forget what you have done for me”.

“It was nothing. Helping a lady in distress is the duty of any gentleman. Oh, and please don't think now that in Albion we are all like that journalist. Most of us are true gentlemen.”

“Are you from Albion?”

At the hearing the name of the country of his father, the expression of Esther softened for a moment, but at once recovered the tension before. The man had claimed to be an aristocrat's butler, but what was someone like him doing there? Wouldn't that be another trick to gain her trust?

Suspicion was probably written on her face, because Butler gave a sheepish smile and proceeded to introduce himself in detail.

“You are probably wondering what a poor butler like me is doing here. The truth is that I am looking for someone. He is a friend of my lord, who disappeared a long time ago… Someone who had some problems… He caused a scandal in his youth and had to flee the country. My lord has found out that he arrived in this region and has sent me to search for clues as to his whereabouts.”

“It seems like very hard work...”

Butler's words made sense and he had explained without hesitation. He was probably telling the truth. Esther decided to believe that the man was who he claimed to be.

Butler's partner jerked his pocket watch to him, and the butler snapped his fingers. After putting out the pipe, he respectfully took Esther by the hand.

“What a disappointment! Seems that it is late! Sister, if you do not need us at all, we will withdraw, with your permission.”

“Oh, sure! I'm in a bit of a hurry too... Thank you very much for your help; really, Mr. Butler.”

“Oh, please, I don't deserve that much respect.”

Bringing the nun's hand slightly to his lips, the man smiled and whispered in Albion's language:

“It was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again soon…”

As the young woman flushed, the butler bowed politely and turned. The man named Guderian followed half a second later.

Esther was lost in her thoughts, watching the two figures move away down the dark street.

When she came back to reality, she realized that the streetlights had come on.

“Ah, I have to hurry!”

She had no time to waste. Clicking her tongue, the young woman ran to the opposite side of the street.

---------------------------

So this is it, Stay tunned for next part, we’re having a nice coloring next time. Love you guys! ❤

#TrinityBlood #TrinityBloodNovels #fan translation #abel nightroad #esther blanchett #ROM IV #Chapter1 #part1

69 notes · View notes