Chapter 597: Garden Of Salvation

Everyone froze for a long moment after Isabelle’s words.

They had been expecting something dreadful—a demonic altar, a pit of despair, maybe even a place so dark that the mere air would reek of suffering.

In their minds, this place had already earned the name the Devil’s Den of Sins.

So when Isabelle said, with her bright, almost proud tone —

"Welcome to the Second Bloom."

—it completely disarmed them.

Aqua blinked several times, as if she hadn’t heard right.

"Second...Bloom?" She echoed.

Carmela raised an eyebrow.

"I was expecting something like ’The Ninth Level of Hell’ or ’The Pit of Corruption.’"

"Not...something that sounds like a poetry recital."

Joy’s frown deepened.

"A name that hopeful doesn’t fit a place that’s supposed to be hiding a devil’s work."

Even Maria, who was still in quiet disbelief, murmured softly.

"It sounds like...a place for healing."

"That’s because it is."

Isabelle chuckled, her expression gentle but radiant with pride.

And seeing all their puzzled, skeptical faces, she clasped her hands together and said,

"I know, I know. All of you are terribly confused right now...But it’s not that complicated."

"Just as I said earlier, this place is simply a sanctuary, a haven for women who have lived through the darkest days of their lives, for those who once believed they had nothing left to live for."

Her voice softened as she looked around the hall, at all the women working happily.

"These are women who once thought their world had ended. And this..."

She gestured to the bright space around them.

"...is where their new story begins."

The group stood silently, listening, while Isabelle continued, her tone now calm, but brimming with respect.

"Thanks to my Young Master and the Holy Guard, the crime rate in the entire Holyfield estate has fallen drastically. Kidnappings, slavery, trafficking rings—all of it."

"Nearly every major organization tied to those horrors has been dismantled and erased and the old underground markets that used to sell women and children like property?"

"Gone. Completely gone. You will not find them anywhere in this land anymore."

That drew a quiet, trembling breath from Carmela.

She looked down for a moment, her eyes shadowed.

Though she said nothing, the faint tremor in her expression said more than words, those sentences had touched something deep, perhaps painful, inside her.

Isabelle noticed but didn’t comment. She simply went on.

"But..." She continued with a sad gaze. "...that victory came with its own sorrow."

"When all those vile networks were destroyed, the women they’d taken—the ones they had exploited, the ones they had ruined were left behind."

"Women who had been kidnapped, sold, abused, or enslaved for years. Some were forced into noble households as toys. Others were sold to brothels."

"Others...lost their families in the process."

She looked around the hall, at the women working, smiling, chatting softly.

"These are the remnants. The survivors of that cruelty."

Her voice trembled as she continued.

"And even though my Young Master saved them from their chains, he knew that didn’t save them from their pain."

"After all, most of them had nowhere to go. No homes, no families, nothing left. Some were so broken that they stopped believing life had meaning at all."

"Some...even tried to end it."

Several of Joy’s sisters lowered their eyes.

The tension from before was gone, replaced by something far heavier: empathy.

Maria brought a hand to her mouth. "Those poor souls..." She whispered.

Even Joy, though silent, seemed shaken by the thought.

Isabelle smiled faintly, though her eyes shimmered with emotion.

"But my Young Master...he’s not someone who can look at a single wounded soul and turn away. Even if an entire army retreats, he’s the type who would run back into the flames to save just one."

She turned toward them fully, her voice stronger now, filled with quiet pride.

"So when the rest of society gave up on these women, he didn’t."

"He decided that they, too, deserved a second chance at life...a second bloom."

Aqua looked at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "So...this place is..."

"Yes." Isabelle nodded. "A refuge built entirely for them."

She gestured around at the vast space.

"My Young Master personally oversaw the construction of this warehouse. He designed it to be their sanctuary, a place where they could rebuild themselves—not through sermons or pity, but through purpose."

Joy tilted her head, slowly lowering her axe.

"Purpose?"

Isabelle nodded again.

"He knew that if he only relied on therapy sessions, like the ones Vivi has been conducting, it would help, but only so much. Because no one—not even the kindest healer can truly understand what these women have endured."

"Only they can understand each other’s pain."

Her tone grew gentle and warm as she continued,

"That’s why he brought them all together—every woman who had been left behind, every woman who had been broken by this world and gave them a safe place to gather."

"He arranged group sessions—times where they could sit together and speak freely about what they had endured. At first, many couldn’t even talk, they only cried."

She shook her head as she thought about the cries she heard before looking up with a hopeful gaze.

"But once they realized that the woman sitting beside them had gone through the same pain, the same nightmares, the same helplessness..."

"...they broke their silence."

She smiled faintly, almost tenderly.

"They wept together. They comforted each other. And, for the first time in years, they understood that they weren’t alone. That others shared their suffering...and that they could rise together."

A murmur spread among Joy’s sisters as they glanced toward the workers, watching how genuinely peaceful the women looked now.

Isabelle continued.

"But my young master didn’t stop there. He knew that even if they found peace, their healing wouldn’t last unless they had a future to hold on to."

"So he gave them one."

"He turned this entire place into a workshop, a haven where they could build, create, and live with dignity."

"He ensured that every single woman here was given an occupation, a purpose, and an income something that would let them stand tall again."

She gestured toward the bustling hall.

"He taught them skills—sewing, weaving, embroidery, crafting. And everything they create here—clothes, shoes, scarves, dolls, decorations is donated to charities and orphanages across the continent."

"Everything they make goes to help those who are suffering—the homeless, orphans, widows, anyone who has lost hope."

Aqua’s lips parted slowly, her expression softening in awe.

"And in doing so..." Isabelle said. "...they realized something extraordinary. By helping others, they were healing themselves. The same hands that were once used, broken, and abused..."

"...were now creating beauty that saved lives."

Her smile widened with quiet pride.

"They learned to see themselves as valuable again. They were also paid fairly for their work, provided food, a safe home, and above all—respect. And now, look at them."

The group turned once again to the sight before them, the same women who had once lived in darkness were now shining with joy.

Isabelle’s voice trembled with emotion as she said,

"In the early days, the women who entered this place always came in with tears and despair. But by the time they left, they carried light in their eyes. But these days..."

She shook her head at the memory.

"...they don’t come in sad anymore. They come in smiling, because they belong here."

"Even the newcomers who arrive for the first time are welcomed with open arms by the others. Their transformation happens faster now because hope spreads quickly when it’s real."

Finally, Isabelle turned to face them fully, her eyes gleaming.

"And that is why my young master named this place the Second Bloom." She said hoping they would understand now. "Because it is where people who thought they were dead inside learn to live again."

"Not just to survive..."

"But to hope."

"To believe."

"...and to love life once more."

And as her words echoed softly through the air, even Joy—the ever-doubtful, ever-skeptical Joy—found herself unable to deny the lump rising in her throat.

Because, she could feel it too.

This was not a Den of Sin.

This was a Garden of Salvation.

Isabelle couldn’t help but giggle at their stunned silence.

"Now, now—don’t hold back." She teased, clapping her hands lightly. "You’ve already come all the way here, haven’t you? Go on then—take a good look at this ’Hell on Earth’ you were all so convinced about."

But no one moved.

The sisters stood frozen, their weapons still loosely in hand, eyes darting around in a guilty manner at the thought of coming over to destroy a place like this.

"Oh, don’t just stare!"

Isabelle said playfully, walking forward and gently nudging one of the sisters by the shoulder.

"Go on, go see for yourselves what my Young Master’s created. You might even learn a thing or two about how miracles actually look."

A few of the sisters stumbled forward awkwardly, looking at each other for courage.

"That’s better!"

Isabelle clapped her hands together with a cheerful smile.

"Explore, look around, talk to them! Go see what kind of ’evil’ you’ve been so worried about."

Having no choice, Joy gave a silent nod, and one by one, the group slowly began to spread out across the hall.

The moment they stepped in, several women looked up from their tables, noticing the sudden entrance of armored sisters carrying weapons.

There was a brief moment of surprise—but then, seeing Isabelle behind them, the women quickly relaxed.

Smiles returned to their faces, and they politely greeted the newcomers before going back to their work as if nothing had happened.

Joy’s group spread out.

Carmela wandered to the far side, Maria trailed behind her, while Aqua lingered beside a few of the sisters who seemed too shocked to even speak.

One of Joy’s sisters stopped near a table where a middle-aged woman with deep scars running across her face sat teaching another girl how to knit.

The scars looked deliberate, as if someone had once tried to ruin her beauty out of spite.

Yet she was smiling, laughing even, her hands gentle as she guided the younger woman’s trembling fingers through a knot pattern.

The sister’s lips trembled. She felt her eyes burn with tears and had to look away, clutching her staff tightly.

"She’s...smiling." She whispered, barely audible. "Even after all that..."

Nearby, another sister stopped before a woman who was clearly blind—her eyes clouded, but her hands moved swiftly and gracefully, folding delicate paper flowers with practiced precision.

Her face glowed with contentment as she worked.

Isabelle, watching from behind, smiled gently as she said,

"She lost her sight years ago and her husband abandoned her because she was being too much of a burden. But she told us once that here, she doesn’t need to see to know what beauty looks like."

"She feels it through her hands now."

Farther down, Carmela’s steps slowed when she caught sight of something that made her heart ache—a mother sitting with her little daughter on her lap, helping her tie small ribbons into bows.

"Like this, sweetheart." The woman said warmly, looping the pink ribbon carefully. "You twist and pull gently, not too tight, or it’ll lose shape."

The little girl nodded, tongue sticking out in concentration.

"Like this, Mama?"

"Perfect, darling."

The sound of the little girl’s laughter hit Carmela like an arrow to the chest.

Her breath caught, and before she knew it, her hand had risen to her chest as her heart thumped painfully fast.

She looked away quickly, biting her lip as a lump formed in her throat.

’Don’t think about it.’ She told herself. ’Don’t remember...But she couldn’t help it.’

Memories of her own mother’s gentle voice, long gone, flickered through her mind like soft candlelight and it hurt.

Meanwhile, Maria wandered a few steps away and watched two women working side by side—one carefully measuring cloth, the other cutting the edges.

They chatted casually about dinner, about the children playing nearby, about which song would be played next over the crystal radio.

They didn’t look like victims who has gone through the worst of humanity and instead looked just like some close friends, who got together to gossip.

This showed her how much Cassius’s intiative had worked out and made her eyes tear up, as she had only seen women who had experienced the same living the worst life—not smiling and laughing like they were now.

Even Joy, who had entered the place ready for war, now found herself standing still, unsure of what to say or even think.

No matter where she looked, there was no pain, no fear, no trace of the cruelty she’d expected.

The women were happy. Truly happy. They hummed, smiled, and looked at peace.

Her confusion deepened until she suddenly felt something tug lightly at her robe.

She turned down sharply, ready to scold whoever dared touch her battle garment—only to stop when she saw a small girl, no older than seven, looking up at her with big, innocent eyes.

And what caught her off guard was that there was a red burn mark on her left eye, that looked so painful.

But even then the little girl was smiling as she gestured to her and said,

"Big Sister, bend down. I want to tell you something."

Joy blinked in surprise but complied, lowering herself to the girl’s level.

"What is it, little one?"

Without a word, the girl pulled a bright paper sticker from her pocket, peeled it carefully, and pressed it onto Joy’s chest.

Joy glanced down and froze.

It was a smiley face.

A big, bright, yellow smiley face.

For a moment, she was too stunned to react.

She blinked, staring at it—then slowly raised her gaze back to the girl, who was beaming up at her.

"Smile big sis!" The girl said cheerfully. "Unlike me, you have such a beautiful face, but you’re completely ruining it by frowning all the time."

Joy’s eyes widened slightly, caught completely off guard, while the little girl nodded enthusiastically, her tone sweet and serious.

"You’ll look so much prettier if you smile. You should smile lots and lots!"

"Or atleast that’s what Big Brother Cassius told me..."

She said while thoughtfully biting her finger.

"...He said that even someone like me, who has such a ugly mark on my face looks adorable when I smile."

"So just imagine how beautiful someone like who’s already so pretty like you would look with a smile!"

Hearing such innocent and heartbreaking words, Joy felt something stir in her chest—an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her.

Her throat tightened, and before she knew it, tears shimmered in her eyes.

And then...she smiled.

It was small at first, unsure. But the little girl’s eyes widened in amazement, and she gasped softly.

"Oh my Goddess!" The girl exclaimed. "Big Sis, you look like an angel!"

Joy blinked, startled—and then laughed, a sound that even surprised her.

The little girl grinned proudly, her eyes sparkling.

"You should keep smiling like that forever! Promise?"

Before Joy could even respond, the girl’s mother called from across the hall.

"Grey! Come here, darling!"

"Coming, Mama!"

The little girl waved enthusiastically.

"Bye, Big Sis Angel!"

Joy watched her run off, her small curls bouncing with every step, until she disappeared among the rows of tables.

Then she looked down again at the smiley sticker on her chest and placed her hand gently over it.

Her smile remained and for a long moment, she stayed like that—still smiling faintly, still trembling slightly.

And when she finally lifted her head and looked around, she realized she wasn’t the only one overwhelmed.

Half her sisters were crying openly, holding each other as they watched the women work and laugh.

Some tried to stay composed, wiping their eyes and whispering prayers under their breath, but their trembling shoulders betrayed them.

Aqua stood nearby, biting her lip and looking teary-eyed yet proud.

Maria clasped her hands in front of her chest, silently mouthing a thank-you to the heavens.

And Carmela—strong, unflinching Carmela had the gentlest smile on her face, her eyes soft and glimmering.

Caramela met her gaze for a second.

But neither said a word.

But both understood.

All their doubts, their suspicions—everything they’d come here with felt meaningless now.

Because the truth was right before them.

This place wasn’t somewhere where life ended...

...but it was a haven where people were reborn.