The morning light over the Southern Continent was surprisingly chilling. The misty and unclear light, resembling white fog, was like half-asleep and half-awake thoughts dragging the consciousness of the Transferred Person Margaret downwards.
She seed to return to her hotown, back to Paris tinted by the flas of war, back to that day in 1944 deeply etched into her mory.
"Strip her clothes off!!"
"They are all traitors, French traitors!!"
"Shave off their hair!"
In the dim morning light, above the ss left by the flas of war, everyone stood on the streets of Paris, the pearl symbolizing the glory of France, seemingly forming a parade. These French people who had been oppressed under the iron hooves of Germany over the past few years had finally waited for the day of victory.
In the year 1944, the German garrison commander stationed in Paris, von Choltitz, had already surrendered to the Allies. They had finally expelled the fascist beasts from the land of freedom and romance. This was the glorious mission their grand "First Army of Europe" failed to accomplish four years ago.
But naturally, even this was not enough. During the years of oppression, they naturally rembered how that group of shaless French spies had snobbishly fawned over those Germans, how those social-climbing parasites maintained their bloody romance within this vanity fair.
They wanted to reckon with these damn spies, to strip away the dignity they obtained through fawning and bowing. This was the first step for the great French nation to stand tall.
In the chilling morning light, restless clamor transmitted from outside. It was as if the restless, unbearable fury in the hearts of the masses had completely materialized, like a beast roaring towards the sky attempting to completely devour Paris.
"Margaret Rene, I testify that she obtained wealth and honor through selling her body over the past few years. She is an absolute traitor. She deserves to be reckoned with, she should be dragged into this parade of sha!"
"Yes, she is quite beautiful and was very favored by a German officer; I can testify!"
"In that case, we have no choice but to invite her out for a chat..."
"Open the door! Open the door!"
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The clamor outside the street remained unknown to the dwellers, but at the door of a second-floor room, a blonde lady wearing a headscarf was squatting down. Panting, she glanced at the commotion outside. Her expression appeared sowhat bitter. Facing the intense pounding on the door outside, Margaret squatted down, looking at her daughter before her.
Just like her, the girl had long blonde hair, but at this mont her eyes were filled with trembling and fear, seemingly extrely terrified of the commotion outside right now.
Seeing this, Margaret imdiately pursed her lips. Lowering her head, she stuffed a doll beside her into the little girl's hands. Subsequently, she anxiously pointed to the bedroom and softly said to the little girl.
"Matilda, take your toy and go into the bedroom, absolutely do not co out. Even if soone cos in, do not move. Also, absolutely do not speak German, okay?"
"...Mama, is this the toy Uncle Schneider gifted ?"
Margaret was slightly stunned, then pondered for a mont before nodding and saying.
"...Yes."
"Then where's Uncle Schneider?"
"He went back to Germany. Be good, okay, go back into the bedroom."
"Why didn't we leave with him? I heard Uncle Schneider talking to you before; he wanted you to leave with him..."
"We are French, baby. Your father, grandfather, and Mama's father are all French; we are French..."
As Margaret spoke, she lowered her head. She suddenly thought of her husband who left four years ago and never returned, her eye sockets grew increasingly red. Even though Margaret had said these words to herself in her heart so many tis, for so reason, at this mont she couldn't even manage to repeat them to the daughter before her.
"I don't understand, Mama."
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
"Margaret! Open the door!"
Margaret turned back to look at the front door, then kissed Matilda's forehead, pushing her and the doll towards the bedroom together.
"You'll understand in the future, baby."
Following the closing of the room door, Margaret panted for a mont. Only then did she adjust her expression, seemingly feeling sowhat panicked about the people outside.
But after a mont of silence, she still slowly walked towards the entryway and pushed the door open.
No one listened to her speak, because she was quickly grabbed by the clothes and hair by the furious and agitated masses, shoved and dragged away from her house, into the parade outside.
"Beat that traitor to death!"
"Bang! Bang!"
The city was a hubbub of voices. The surrounding roars, the distant screams, and the gunshots of execution almost near at hand made Margaret's mind go completely blank. Pushed and shoved, she stood with many other won deed as "French traitors," escorted by many people nearby towards another direction down the street.
The gorgeous clothes and gold and silver jewelry these won obtained from enemies and superiors during the Vichy regi and the German occupation, were all cleanly ripped away by the enraged masses at this very mont. Their clothes gained quite a few tears; they only walked wretchedly in the procession, hiding and dodging the furious gazes of the people around them.
Naturally, Margaret was among them, but what she felt mostly was panic and unease. She wanted to open her mouth to say sothing, but the voices around her were simply too loud. No one could hear her voice, not even the won beside her.
They were quickly brought to an overcrowded square, where tens of thousands of onlookers gathered. There still seed to be wet blood on the ground and corpses that had been dragged away.
When a man was deed a French traitor, he would be executed by firing squad by his compatriots. Won were obviously luckier than them; their hair would be shaved, their clothes stripped, and they would be dragged through the streets of Paris in their most humiliating state to parade, to be wantonly insulted and trampled upon by the bystanders.
Margaret was pressed blankly before the judges, together with the sa batch of won declared to have bowed their heads to the Germans.
"Margaret Rene, following reports, you've had intimate relations with Germans over the past four years, and through this thod seized benefits, harming the interests of compatriots. Do you plead guilty?"
"I... I didn't..."
Margaret lowered her head, her mind completely white, only kneeling on the ground in humiliation, allowing the knife-like, sword-like gazes and various thrown objects from the side. The masses had long been displeased with those glamorous French won partying night after night in the occupied zones. They favored the powerful with no integrity for France; that's why they did those scandalous things.
"You're lying! We saw it with our own eyes! A German officer was with you! You're lying!"
"Exactly! You truly deserve to die!"
It was as if Margaret was suddenly poked in a sore spot. Biting her lip, she lowered her head, her face startlingly pale.
"My... my child didn't have food to eat... My husband went to join the army, he didn't return... I didn't... betray France..."
"You truly bring sha to your husband!"
"You're just a slut!"
"Buzz..."
Margaret's head went blank, even her light blue pupils couldn't help shrinking. This sentence almost made her heart stop abruptly, making her want to die right here. But thinking of the child inside the house, she still managed to catch her breath; only her head drooped down weakly, so weak and feeble she couldn't even utter a single sentence.
Of course, this appearance looked more like a helpless admission of guilt.
The judge paused silently for a mont, then said to the people beside.
"Shave all her hair off and take her to the parade!"
Margaret's long blonde hair tumbling down from beneath her headscarf was forcibly grabbed. The "executioners" crudely ran scissors over her head, reaping crop after crop of golden long hair as if cutting wheat.
"Snip! Snip!"
In between were naturally so jagged, uncut hairs, but those executioners wouldn't act gently like barbers of later generations. They only crudely yanked those hairs off from the scalp like uprooting seedlings.
Margaret shed tears from the pain. That absolutely unprecedented sense of sha made her feel even more despair. Yet even so, she remained silent with her head bowed, enduring it all in this embarrassing posture.
However, when the others began tugging at her clothes, she finally couldn't endure it anymore and began to struggle. Only, such a slender body naturally couldn't match the strength of the mob beside her. Her defenses were practically easily breached, followed by a flurry of punches and kicks that made her completely give up resisting.
"Stop! Cease!"
"Stop! Cease!"
"I am Belen Ael, Stop! This lady's husband was my forr comrade in arms, she is not a traitor! Stop!"
Just as Margaret curled up on the ground, an anxious shout finally transmitted over. Hearing this, the people executing the punishnt dispersed while looking at each other in blank dismay, revealing the young man wearing an officer's uniform on the outskirts of the crowd.
"Her husband is my forr comrade in arms Ermanno Beller! Her surna is still Beller!"
The soldier raised his gun and barged into the execution ground. Panting, he jogged into the crowd, pushing past the blocking people inch by inch to stand beside the extrely wretched Margaret.
Yet even for him, seeing the trembling figure on the ground whose forrly beautiful long golden hair was reduced to re strands, he still found it hard to express his feelings.
But Belen quickly adjusted. Gritting his teeth, he went to Margaret's side and looked at the judge beside her. In reality, the people to be punished were simply too many and mixed; this parade and clamor were like the people venting their compressed grievances accumulated over four long years.
Seeing an officer coming over to vouch, the executioners nearby scattered one after another, heading towards another place punishing traitorous won.
Seeing this, Belen finally breathed a sigh of relief. Hastily lowering his body, he extended a hand towards Margaret, speaking up.
"Madam Beller, are you alright?"
"..."
Margaret covered her body, looking at the other party sowhat tremblingly, only feeling the person before her was unfamiliar. A long while passed before she muttered.
"Belen?"
"...It's ."
Belen smiled bitterly. Looking at the rioting square around them, he shoved the gun in his hand into its holster, then yanked the still-stationary Margaret up, walking briskly towards the periphery.
"It's not safe here. Let's leave first and then talk."
"..."
Muddle-headed, Margaret allowed Belen to drag her away. The intimidation from earlier events was simply huge, and because of this, she was sowhat out of sorts.
But very quickly she seed to rember sothing, looking toward the direction of her ho.
"Belen... I want to go ho..."
"...Alright, Madam. But you should rest for a mont first, your condition right now is very wrong. Also, the reckoning is still ongoing over there; it might be better to return once things quiet down a bit. I also haven't seen you in a long ti and want to talk to you about so things... regarding your husband, Ermanno."
Margaret left the execution ground tremblingly while being led by Belen. The surrounding scent of blood and the gazes from people directed at her near-hairless head made her feel terrified and desperate. Thus, sowhat fearfully, she hid behind Belen and followed him to a relatively quiet spot: a street corner that had already been swept through by the reckoning.
"Madam, I wanted to find you earlier, but you were no longer at your original residence. If I hadn't heard the voices of my colleagues, I wouldn't have known..."
As they sat down, seeing the wretched state of the woman in front of him, Belen appeared sowhat hesitating to speak.
Margaret froze slightly upon hearing this, then lowered her head, saying.
"Ever since there has been no news whatsoever from Ermanno, I didn't know what to do... Things were very hard at ho then, I had no ans of making a living, but our daughter needed food. Earlier, I worked at a hotel opened by the Germans, where I t a German. He gave a little help, but... but I didn't ask for it!"
Reaching the end, Margaret seed afraid Belen would misunderstand, hastily speaking sowhat agitatedly.
Hearing this, Belen blinked, then smiled bitterly saying.
"No need to explain, Madam. I understand, he was pursuing you. At the ti we surrendered too quickly, many people didn't want war. Reaching today's state has excusable reasons, but both you and Ermanno are very good people... as you know, in the events happening today, many people will be wrongly accused or overly sentenced. As long as you can survive, I will also have an explanation to give to Ermanno."
The eyes of Margaret that were like dead ashes finally flickered with a glimr of hope after hearing this. Raising her head in disbelief, she looked at Belen, asking.
"Is Ermanno still alive?"
"Alive? Oh, no... he..."
The light in Margaret's eyes dimd sowhat, then she vacantly lowered her head a bit.
"So to speak, he died in the war against the Germans? But I didn't know... I moved to Paris; perhaps news returned to our hotown... I... haven't..."
Belen's already hesitant words stuttered even more, but after remaining silent for a mont, he still said.
"Ermanno... he may have been blown to pieces by British artillery because of that damn 'Operation Catapult.' Naturally, only a possibility. But I heard he was on the Bretagne, the British feared the Navy would be controlled by the Germans, so..."
Margaret just stared blankly at the officer before her. The various pasts, everything from the past, all floated into her mind.
Ermanno assud it was unlikely for the Navy to participate in battle, thus asking his wife to take their child and leave the war zone ahead of ti and move to Paris, yet doing so caused her to miss four years of news and notifications, and also made Margaret realize the news this late.
"All... Allies? Why..."
"...We were allies before the surrender."
Belen lit a cigarette, then leaned against the street wall, pausing for a long ti before saying so.
The sparks in Margaret's eyes extinguished bit by bit. Like a walking corpse, she bowed her head, sitting with Belen on this ss of a street that resembled ruins.
The distant battle cries and parade sounds receded bit by bit. Waiting until the chilling atmosphere that seed to be below zero around them never ward up, Margaret said blankly.
"I want to go ho."
"I'll escort you back, Madam."
Belen glanced sympathetically at the haggard-looking woman beside him, then put on his military cap. Pinching out his cigarette, he spoke up.
"During the reckoning activities, there will be so who take advantage of the chaos to steal. I led a team here precisely to prevent such situations from occurring. Going back with you will be safer. I can also concurrently et Ermanno's daughter, we agreed upon it previously... Oh right, after you go back, don't leave the house again, I will inform the others..."
Margaret rely walked blankly in front. With Belen saying so much yet receiving no response, he couldn't help looking at her back, seemingly wanting to say so consolatory words, yet finding it hard to voice them for a long ti.
He seed to still rember how Ermanno bragged about his wife when they t in the past.
Ermanno said his wife had beautiful long blonde hair, was well-read in classics, and could even write poetry; both gentle and pretty, simply the dream lover of all romantic French people.
They thus walked back silently to the block where Margaret lived. In her brisk, seemingly extrely anxious steps, Belen first saw an open door leaf, and the ssy, chaotic room inside.
Among which, in that open bedroom... a pool of bright red blood was constantly spreading.
"..."
Margaret's back just stiffened silently like that. In Belen's line of sight, she was completely motionless like a statue, rely staring constantly toward the bedroom...
She was indeed as beautiful as Ermanno described, even though her hair had been shaved clean at this mont.
But perhaps, she was no longer romantic.
"Buzz buzz..."
The chilling morning light continuously spread along the sky of the Southern Continent, contrasting today's weather as fresh and cool, waking the blonde beauty curled up sleeping on the bed with coldness.
Her beautiful golden hair scattered like a waterfall on the spacious bed. A pair of spiritless, seemingly dazed light-blue pupils was motionless, staring constantly at the rows of crude buildings outside the towering giant tower.
Walking within the residential area built in a short half year were various types of Demi-human Races or humans, among which were notably special species from the Tree Continent. They were all Demi-human residents Earl Tsubaki had brought back while traveling ten thousand miles.
Looking closely, there were already tens of thousands of people here, faintly revealing a flourishing state.
Margaret blankly watched everything before her, having not moved her body for a long while; only waves of golden light resembling ripples occasionally flashed within the towering giant tower behind her.
That was, the light of destiny.
"Margaret..."
From behind, a gentleness transmitted over, waking Margaret from her daze.
Turning her head, she saw Earl Tsubaki ascending the tower from the steps.
"Tsubaki."
Earl Tsubaki glanced at the center of the high tower... at that profound pool water of unknown depth that had even turned black; the golden light of destiny emanated precisely from that pool water.
Very quickly, he withdrew his gaze and said to Margaret.
"People from outside the nation have arrived. It's Fisher and those Transferred Persons from before..."
"I know, I've known for a while."
Margaret slowly sat up, looking at the distant dark and chilling sky, then said in a low voice.
"Let them in."
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