A Person From Another World
A Person From Another World
An dark room with no clock, not even a window. I endured many blades there.
If the wounds had been sustained in some adrenaline-pumping, fantasy-like battle, I might have been able to accept it.
I was exhausted.
I couldn't possibly understand why such a reality awaited me, and tears welled up in my eyes. It hurt, it hurt so much that I felt my senses were going numb. They cut my body, tore off my flesh, all the while claiming that the Power of a Saint came from a virgin, so they avoided my abdomen, killing me countless times.
First, they cut me with a knife, then they twisted and cut off my fingers with pliers, then they sawed off my arms, then my legs, cutting, cutting, cutting.
I learned how messily flesh spreads when a human body is sawed.
I learned how much blood flows from a human body.
The fact that I learned things I never wanted to know was so terrifying that I screamed until my throat was raw. When I begged for the pain to stop, my body would regenerate on its own again. My severed limbs would regenerate and return to their original state, so they started taking parts of my body one by one.
They even collected my blood, claiming it would become an Elixir of Immortality, and bottled it as if it were a Potion.
The sticky liquid that crawled down my face after they gouged out my eyeballs still felt vivid.
It felt like I was experiencing the limits of human cruelty with my own body.
In the end, they broke my bones, and sawed my neck to kill me. I wondered if I was going crazy, and then my mind felt bleached, leaving me blank.
After my mind went blank, before I could even say anything, the King put a rope around my neck and hung me from the ceiling.
He said that next time he returned, he would teach me "mental education" or "the proper attitude for a Saintess."
After that, I closed my eyes again.
When I opened my eyes again, I exhaled a trembling breath.
The rope tightening around my Carotid Artery would instinctively make me regain consciousness, only to quickly lose it again and repeat the cycle of dying. I wouldn't even know how many times I had died by now, so what did it mean that I could properly regain consciousness, and that my body was rolling on the floor?
Thinking that, fear arose.
Was he here for "mental education" or something? Was it brainwashing? I flinched and recoiled.
"H-huh, ugh."
I couldn't even speak properly, so I clutched my constricted throat and let out a groan.
No matter how much my neck had been squeezed, even though my body didn't die and healed its wounds, a strange sensation remained.
As I lifted my gaze with fear-filled eyes, there was someone else there, not the King. A man with white hair and blue eyes. A tall man clad in splendid armor.
Was he a Knight? Was he telling me to follow him? The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
My Saintess's Robes were already embarrassing, but now they were so tattered that they no longer functioned as clothes, revealing parts of my skin. Although it wasn't my original body, the feeling of the body I woke up in being exposed was not pleasant, so I curled up and tried to hide as much as possible. When I glanced at him, he mumbled.
"...Veronica, Saintess?"
At the voice of the man who knew my name, I trembled.
With wide eyes, I looked at him.
"P-please save me. I, I don't want to be hurt anymore. Please? I, I'll just stay, stay here quietly."
As I spoke with trembling lips, he looked at me with a bewildered expression, then approached me, kneeling on one knee. With him approaching, I couldn't retreat further due to the blood-soaked chair behind me, so I swallowed the breath rising in my throat with a choked sound.
I begged.
I had screamed in pain and cursed in a fit of anger, but I had no idea what this "prepared education course" was, so I could only beg.
In the past, especially religious orders and Cathedrals that were zealous enough to designate heretics, all had highly developed torture tools.
So, more than the current moment of simply being beaten with tools, I was more afraid of facing those highly developed torture devices, so I squeezed my eyes shut.
Then, the man in front of me opened his mouth.
"Uh, um. W-were you, uh, always here?"
At his somewhat idiotic question, I unconsciously furrowed my Glabellum.
It seemed he wasn't someone sent to fetch me, so I swallowed a groan and quietly looked up at his face.
But what would change if I stared at him for a hundred days? What could I find out?
Having gained nothing, I clutched the tattered fabric of my clothes and cautiously asked,
"...Who are you?"
His dazzling white iron armor with golden embellishments, and the gold-leafed blue cloths adorning various parts of his body, seemed to boast of his presence.
Somehow, the moment I asked that question, I felt like I knew, and my eyes widened.
"For now, I am the Hero."
"For now," he said.
Is this how one usually meets the Hero?
No matter how much I tried to compare, I had never even started this game, so I couldn't say anything.
Was it fortunate that I hadn't gone crazy before encountering the Hero?
Was it just that I was so scared I was trembling?
At that thought, I felt a little relieved and pulled up the corners of my mouth that had drooped.
My straight lips moved again.
"...You're the Hero-nim?"
"You are Saintess-nim, right?"
"Eh...."
Wait a minute, the Hero of this game is the protagonist.
Isn't the protagonist the one for *that* kind of assault?
Many calculations ran through my mind at the sudden thought.
But to have to choose between the King who bound and tortured me, or the game's protagonist, who was synonymous with assault and humiliation, no easy answer came to me.
I disliked both, and I didn't want to choose either.
As I considered choosing and following either, their respective downsides were too stark, and I unconsciously swallowed a groan.
"...Let's go. You'll be hurt if you stay here."
At his words, I clenched my fists tightly.
My fists trembled slightly, but soon I decided to listen to him.
Thinking there was no other choice, I extended my hand.
The Hero always runs towards the end of the game's story.
So, by reaching an Ending, I would surely find some clue that could lead me back.
Of course, being next to the Hero meant I could be assaulted by him, so I had to avoid that flag.
More than that, they said the Power of a Saint manifested through a virgin, so I had a good reason to keep him from touching me. It was fine.
It was a game, yet it didn't feel like a game, with a reality-like degree of freedom. I thought of words to persuade the Hero and placed my hand in his outstretched one.
He helped me to my feet, and I stood up on my wobbly legs, dusting myself off.
My Saintess's Robes should have been white, but they were stained with blood, now mostly red. As I roughly brushed them off, only a dry sensation remained on my hands, as if to signify how much time had passed.
I cautiously followed behind the Hero, who was wandering through the Royal Castle with faltering steps.
The Hero was the only one who could protect me, but separate from the story, at this moment, not knowing the Hero's personality, I needed to be a little careful.
I wondered if he, like me, had been summoned from his original world, perhaps we could communicate a little better.
But not knowing how the Hero was summoned, how he came to be, or where he was from, I felt utterly lost.
Was he originally from this world and chosen as the Hero as he grew up, or was he summoned from another world?
Regardless of the method, was he a 'resident' living in this game, or a person from the same world as me?
I hesitated, worrying that if I said something strange, I might be cast out as a Heretic.
And as I walked, he glanced back at me.
"Veronica Saintess-nim."
"...Yes?"
"Why were you in a place like that?"
At his words, I mumbled.
Should I tell him the truth? But hadn't the Hero saved me?
If I told the truth, and if he was a Hero, a righteous Hero...
But a righteous Hero would never appear in a humiliation game like this.
A Hero in a game filled with all sorts of hardcore play, righteous? No, he'd be lewd.
Thinking that, I suppressed my trembling shoulders and cautiously opened my mouth.
There was no point in lying anyway. The situation was already exposed, and I had already begged to be saved, so I thought that if I lied, he might not save me.
Because it wasn't a game that forced companions.
"...His Majesty said he wanted to test my abilities."
"And that's why you ended up like that?"
"Yes, well."
However, the more we talked, the more I realized that the Hero's tone was surprisingly casual.
Could this be the game's script? I furrowed my Glabellum, unsure, and he hummed, then shrugged his shoulders.
Once again enveloped in silence, I clutched my torn clothes and walked slowly.
And at the end, the place the Hero arrived at was a Convent.
It wasn't the place where the children I was with were, but a space for proper, official nuns.
Normally, it was a forbidden place where men shouldn't enter, but I could enter with my body, and the Hero, perhaps treated as an exception, also easily stepped inside.
But soon, he was chased out.
"Even if you are Hero-nim, you cannot enter here."
An elderly nun, who held some position in the Convent, declared this boldly and chased the Hero out.
At that, the Hero mumbled, then let out a groan and muttered.
"Ah, no, that's... Damn it, if it weren't for this body, I would've gone in."
Hearing those words from behind, my eyebrows twitched.
This body?
I wondered if he was a Possessor like me, so I leaned in, listening if he would say anything else.
But that was only for a moment. The nun-nim seemed to have noticed me, standing as if hiding behind the Hero, and her eyes widened as she looked at me.
"Gasp, S-Saintess-nim! Saintess-nim! What a state you are in! Please come in and change your clothes...!"
"Ah, I, oh."
Without being able to say anything, I was grabbed by the hand of the elderly nun and led through the open iron gate of the Convent.
My body was fine, but the cuts and bloodstains all over my clothes seemed to be too much to bear.
I cautiously glanced at the Hero, and he smiled wryly and nodded.
"Go ahead."
At his words, I thought it wouldn't be a big deal and followed the nun-nim.
Entering a nearby annex, I received a regular Nun's Habit from the nun-nim.
A plain Nun's Habit with a black base and white accents.
"I apologize. Saintess-nim should originally wear white clothes, unlike us."
"No, this is fine for me."
Saying so, I put on the skirt I still wasn't used to.
Because the side was slit, I even had to wear stockings to cover my exposed legs.
It was an unfamiliar sensation, but it was an unavoidable choice to minimize exposure.
Perhaps because it was an Adult Game.
After changing, when I came out of the Convent, the Hero stared at me quietly, then tilted his head.
And then he uttered something suspicious, just like the part I had doubted earlier.
"Is the story moving too fast, so the Saintess's Robes haven't appeared yet..."
It was a monologue, a clearly small sound, but hearing it, I gained conviction and finally opened my mouth.
"...You, you came from another world, didn't you?"
Please, say yes.
I thought so, glaring at him.