Raised in Dungeon



"In the end, you really didn't send any signal to me. Is he really okay to be left alone?" asked Ottar in Bishop Nicholas' room.

After speaking with Nicholas, Allen stepped outside and was met immediately by Ottar, who had just finished his soup. As Ottar made his way inside, his eyes fell upon Nicholas' knife resting on the table. In that very moment, Ottar realized that Nicholas had never intended to use it against Allen from the beginning.

"Achaa... you really didn't use that knife at all."

"I will not repeat the same mistake," Nicholas said.

"How will you convey this to the Arcbishop? Will you lie?"

"We haven't reported Allen to him from the beginning; all we need to do is keep quiet and let the boy live in peace."

"Live in peace... huh? Do you really believe that?

The black and white haired child mentioned in Daemon Servus' black gospel. That child likely has something to do with them.

Then the attack that happened in this region was all because of that child, right? Those Servus must have heard the rumors about the child and came here to confirm," Ottar explained.

"I had full faith in him; the conviction in his words was compelling. Rather than resorting to capturing and executing him, I am inclined to provide an opportunity for him to comprehend the value of human existence. Under no circumstances would I let him slip into the clutches of the demons.

Don't you notice the transformation occurring within that child? Genuine growth is taking root, gradually altering his disposition for the better."

Nicholas turned to Ottar and said, "Given the circumstances, can I rely on your discretion regarding Allen? It is crucial that the others remain unaware. I intend to discuss with Rodion the possibility of devising a strategy for Allen to conceal his conspicuous white hair."

Ottar scratched his head "Well, whatever you say. I'm a double agent, but the fact is that I owe you a lot of favors, so I'll obey you this time.

It's just that... unlike you, I'm not sure about his future.

A terrible fate awaited him since he was born with that hair."

"Although I doubt it, I still believe that he will not reach that terrible destiny."

...

Allen probably wanted a world where everyone could happily taste his cooking.

Ah, how nice it would be if that really happened.

He no longer needs to swing his sword to slash others

He no longer needs to use his strength to hit others

He also no longer needs to see the screams and desperate faces of others when he kills others

As Bishop Nicholas said, in order to achieve the world he wants, he must change.

The path he had to take now was: first, to apologize to the people he had harmed.

Rodion had told him that he should do it slowly, and he agreed, but...

To this one person, he wanted to say it right away.

To Vash.

There was no doubt about it; Vash must be holding a grudge against him.

And the first step he had to take in order to move forward was to apologize to Vash.

"Vash!" called Allen, seeing Vash carrying the mat.

Vash turned to Allen, looking at him with a dark gaze.

"Allen, have you finished talking to the bishop? Good, now hurry up and help me."

"O-okay!"

Helping others... that was also something he had to pay attention to if he wanted to be reborn. And it could start from that orphanage.

In the corridor of the orphanage, the children gathered to partake in their meal. On the floor, mats were carefully laid out, providing a makeshift dining area where they could sit together. However, before they could savor their humble sustenance, they patiently formed a line to receive a single bowl each. Allen and Vash were in charge of putting the soup into the bowls.

"Thank you very much" expressed one of the grateful children, a smile spreading across his face. Allen nodded, a warm feeling swelling in his chest. Continue to others who keep thanking him.

As the children savored each spoonful of the nourishing soup, their faces lit up with delight. One of the youngsters couldn't contain his excitement and exclaimed,

"Hmm! So tasty!" This comment was followed by a chorus of agreement from the others, who hungrily devoured Allen's soup with gusto. It was a simple meal, yet it felt like a feast fit for kings to them.

Allen watched this heartwarming scene unfold before him, his eyes glistening with tears. In that moment, he realized what he truly longed for - to bring happiness and nourishment to people's lives through his cooking. The sheer joy radiating from the children's faces fueled his ambition, as he yearned to recreate this feeling for others.

"Allen, this is really amazing. Thank you," expressed Vash, his voice filled with gratitude but his face is still gloomy.

"I'm glad you liked it."

Allen wanted to apologize to Vash about his father. He wanted to talk to him nicely. And he thought, maybe the situation was good.

But for some reason, he suddenly felt scared. The apology couldn't come out of his mouth. It was like his brain refused to tell him that.

'Admitting my own mistakes in front of someone is harder than I thought,' Allen thought.

That's when suddenly, Vash spoke first.

"Allen, I'm sorry,"""" Vash said with tears in his face

"Huh?" said Allen in confusion.

"II'mm sorry because I have thrown a rock at you""

Threw a rock? What did he mean?

"My father is a rancher. We lived in the far district of Barkaley. One day our cattle were sold off because of debt. We had no money," Vash continued, "That's when my father went to the dungeon at the prince's request. In return, we got ten sacks of wheat."

Allen immediately understood the direction of the story, he immediately prepared himself to receive any insults or punches that Vash would land on him.

"But my father didn't come back from the dungeon; my father's friend said he died there. Left me with my mother and sister. Eventually my mother also died of depression during childbirth. That left me and my sister.

When everyone gathered on the main street, I saw you looking sad in the iron cage brought by Lord Barkaley.

I was so angry that my head felt like it was about to boil.

To vent, I picked up a stone and threw it at you.

After that, all the other angry people also joined in and threw you, leaving you badly injured."

"That's no big deal! The wounds I feel are nothing compared to the wounds the people have felt when they lost their families.

You too, you lost your father because of me."

Vash shook his head,

"No, that's not it... you're wrong."

"Wh-what?"

"After that incident, I asked my father's friend how he was in the dungeon, how he fought in the dungeon, and how he died.

Do you know how my father died?

He escaped from an orc attack, got lost in the labyrinth and was found by the party inside one of the rooms. He was died because a goblin killed him."

"..."

"You didn't even kill my father; instead, I blamed you for my father's death. I continued to hate that child even after knowing the truth.

Then...

I heard your conversation with Bishop Nicholas."

"Wh-what?! You heard it? From where?!"

"Outside the door, Sir Paladin forced me to wait there."

'No wonder he hadn't prepared anything by the time I finished talking to the Bishop,'

Vash continued,

"Allen, I will support you.

I'll be a witness to the good you've done.

I know that the portions you made this time were more than fifty. You made everyone in the orphanage eat their fill today.

So, please forgive me for throwing you out that time."

"I-I..."

"I know I don't deserve to be forgiven; I know that I might have severely injured you. My first stone throw made everyone imitate me, and I started throwing it at you too."

Allen found himself at a loss for words as he grappled with a response.

It puzzled him how to acknowledge and accept someone's apology properly.

He didn't hate Vash, in fact, he admired Vash for his remarkable ease in extending apologies sincerely and directly, even while he himself remained unconvinced and silent.

Allen's apology was supposed to be the first step toward change, but now Vash's words make him think of something else.

Vash said that he didn't deserve to be forgiven.

Reflecting on societal norms, he wondered how an act as minor as throwing a stone could be deemed unforgivable while his own grievous crime of taking a life went unpardoned. It begged the question: would people ever be willing to extend their forgiveness toward him?

As the afternoon sun cast a gentle glow upon the surroundings, Allen abruptly departed the church, leaving Vash's question unanswered.