Chapter 36: Chapter 20: The Little Match Girl! A Pure Soul!
"This feeling of being treated like an obstacle, casually kicked aside, is really unpleasant," Rod muttered with a faint smile on his face.
It felt like he was in the middle of an important mission, and suddenly, an unplanned passerby barged in. To ensure the mission's success, you simply pull the trigger and kill the passerby—like squashing a pesky ant in your way.
Right now, Rod felt as though he was that unimportant passerby.
With the power of the sun coursing through him, the arrogance that flowed in Rod's blood stirred, a burning fire rising within him.
He wasn't just a man—he was the embodiment of Pride, a being standing at the pinnacle of countless races.
He was the incarnation of the Sun, equal to the gods, a mortal being who could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the divine.
With the heart of Pride, he could look down upon all life.
That was the gift granted to him by the sun.
But now, someone dared to treat him like an insignificant pawn?
Such audacity. Such arrogance.
Rod's golden eyes burned with a fierce flame as the temperature around him surged.
Standing nearby, Van Helsing suddenly felt immense pressure.
The heat intensified, making it feel as though the very air around him was on fire.
Being so close, Van Helsing could barely breathe. It was as if the man next to him wasn't human at all, but a burning sun.
What had changed? Why did this guy suddenly feel so dangerous?
Suppressing the overwhelming urge to kneel, Van Helsing found an excuse to leave.
"I need to figure out who's behind this and crush them," Rod thought, his smile fading as his expression turned cold.
He was the kind of person who didn't let things go easily.
Until this enemy was dead, his heart would remain unsettled.
If someone dared to send an assassin after him, they'd better be prepared to face his wrath.
He wasn't a demon, after all. At worst, he'd just give them a nice sunbath.
Let them bask in the warmth of the sun, and then turn them to ashes under its radiance.
"The power of the Fountain of Life truly is terrifying," Rod mused.
No matter how severe the injury, he could heal instantly.
During his fight with Jack earlier, at first, the attacks had caused some damage. But by the end, Jack's strikes couldn't even keep up with his body's regeneration.
In theory, the greater the damage, the more thoroughly the Fountain's power would manifest.
Even if all his cells were obliterated, as long as a single breath of life remained, his body could regenerate anew under the Fountain's influence.
Of course, the Fountain of Life granted him immortality in body only. His soul would still age.
But unless he sustained severe soul damage, living for several millennia was hardly a problem with his spiritual strength.
As the sky darkened, Rod pulled his coat tighter, feeling a slight chill.
The power of the sun was waning, and once again, he was nothing more than an ordinary man with extraordinary vitality.
"This autumn is going to be especially cold this year," Rod muttered softly, a sense of unease creeping in.
It felt odd.
It was still autumn; winter hadn't arrived yet.
Sometimes, the temperature would even rise to summer-like warmth. It shouldn't be this cold so early in the season.
In his memory, past cold snaps had been frigid, but never this early in the year.
On some mornings, a thin layer of frost would coat the water's surface, as if winter had already arrived.
At this rate, the cold snap this year was bound to be even harsher than usual.
Rod couldn't help but wonder how many people would freeze to death in the coming cold.
But that had nothing to do with him.
The world was too vast, and even if he wanted to help, there wasn't much he could do.
What could he do? Turn into the sun and hang in the sky to warm the whole world?
He was the favored one of the sun, not its slave.
Even a donkey wouldn't be worked that hard.
"Sir, would you like to buy some matches?"
"No, no."
"Sir, please buy some matches. They're very good, and only a few copper coins."
"Go, go! Don't interrupt my business."
On the street, a young girl in a thin, red cloak stood shivering, carrying a basket as she tried to sell her matches.
Passersby and shopkeepers alike wore indifferent expressions.
It wasn't that they lacked compassion, but they were powerless to help.
This year's winter had arrived too harshly, and it was bound to be an unbearable one.
The crops in the fields still had some time before they matured, and if winter came too early, people would have to rely on their dwindling supplies to survive the long, cold months ahead.
Even those with decent living conditions were skipping meals, saving every scrap, just to stockpile food.
Everyone was struggling.
In the entire Kingdom of Hamann, there were hundreds, if not thousands, of orphans like this girl in the slums.
Even if Count Hamann opened the grain warehouses, there was no way he could feed everyone through the winter.
You could help them for a day, but how would you help them for a lifetime?
It was hard enough taking care of oneself, let alone worrying about others.
"Sir, would you buy a box of matches?"
Rod glanced down at the girl who barely reached his chest.
She was dressed in a thin, tattered red cloak. Her frail body shivered in the cold, yet she still did her best to sell her matches with a hopeful smile.
In her pure eyes, as clear as snow, a glimmer of hope shone brightly.
Even Rod, upon seeing those eyes, couldn't help but feel a pang of shame.
Those eyes were like the purest, most untainted thing in the world.
Any selfish thought would tarnish them.
"A completely untainted soul," Rod thought, a bit surprised.
People often said that eyes were the window to the soul, that you could tell someone's character from their gaze.
Rod had never believed that before.
If that were true, then all those actors with "stories" in their eyes would be saints, wouldn't they?
Utter nonsense.
But now, for the first time, Rod felt inclined to believe it.
Looking at the girl shivering in the cold, yet smiling so warmly, Rod couldn't help but sigh.
He wasn't a good person, but sometimes, he couldn't resist a moment of compassion.
Whether that kindness made him saintly, he couldn't say.
Humans were complicated creatures.
One moment, they might ruthlessly slaughter innocent civilians. The next, they might show immense kindness to a begging orphan.
Good and evil were all part of human nature.
"I'll buy all your matches."
Rod pulled out a gold coin and dropped it into the basket.
The girl, who had expected another rejection, suddenly lit up, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"Can the little match girl change her fate?"
In fairy tales, most stories ended with happy conclusions.
But there were exceptions.
Like the tale of the little match girl, who froze to death in a cold winter, her soul following her grandmother to a place without pain.
No matter how beautifully the story was told, it couldn't change the fact that it was a tragedy.
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