Before He Wakes
By the time word spread that the old man and the girl had finally fled, the whole affair had been wrapped to a close—and the House of Charlotte promptly descended into an uproar.
After all, the young lady they served had come home unconscious, carried on the Family Head's own back. And as if that were not enough, every one of the children who had followed in her wake had returned seriously wounded as well.
"M-My lord?! Wh-why is the young lady...?"
"Calm yourself first. Send word to the Church and request a priest, this instant."
"Y-yes?! Even if we contact them this very moment, it will easily take hours—!"
"Tell them the Saintess is here, and they'll come running on their own. Quickly, now."
"...Pardon?!"
Just as the Duke had predicted, the Church dispatched a priest without delay. And not just any priest—one of the rare high priests counted within their ranks, no less.
"You say the Saintess herself is HERE?!"
"...I never asked them to send an escort detail, mind you."
Of course, they had hardly sent that one man alone. He had never imagined they would go so far as to dispatch a handpicked contingent of paladins, yet the holy knights caused no trouble whatsoever. If anything, they offered nothing but words of thanks—for being permitted to protect the Saintess.
"Now then, let us begin the treat—oh my..."
"What is it?"
"N-nothing, my lord. Only... her injuries are graver than they first appeared."
"...Are they, now?"
"I'm afraid I will need to exert every last measure of power I possess."
And so, after yet another bout of frantic treatment—just how much time had passed? A woman now lay in deep slumber within that mansion. A woman who might, one day, come to be its mistress.
"Mmm..."
"Oh? Are you waking, my lady?!"
"Uuugh... where am I?"
"Inside the mansion, my lady."
Shino Charlotte had just opened her eyes—still clutching a head that rang like a struck bell.
The Hound had kept watch at her side without rest, and even now he remained thoroughly shaken. In the state she had been in, she should not have been able to rise at all.
Her ribs and both arms had been fractured outright. The kneecap of her right leg had ruptured completely. A broken rib had stabbed deep into her internal organs, heaping internal injury atop it all—that had been the state of her body before treatment. Wounds that should have kept her flat on her back for the better part of a day at the absolute least.
Even with a high priest summoned to heal her, there was no escaping the aftereffects of such damage.
Yes—surely that was the way of things. And yet...
"Haah... I'm alive, huh?"
"...."
Without a shred of aftereffect, she stretched her arms toward the ceiling and looked about the room as though nothing had happened at all.
Viewed from any angle, it was a deeply strange sight—yet the Hound asked no further questions. To doubt one's master's conduct was not a dog's place.
"Indeed. The Family Head saved you with his own two hands, my lady."
"...Really? Wouldn't have guessed he'd come himself."
An odd thing to say, perhaps, from the lips of the very person who had sent up that desperate call for reinforcements—but in truth, she had never really allowed herself to hope. The moment she laid eyes on that old man, instinct had told her they were all going to die.
A killing intent on an entirely different plane from Allen, who had twisted into a Majin. That horrid, filthy pressure—like standing before a wall as vast and immovable as a mountain.
And he had gone straight for Jenison, no less. Even judged as charitably as possible, the man was no friend of theirs. She had been certain they would all be dead long before any help arrived.
And yet here I am, alive...? Why?
"My lady, is something still amiss?"
"No. Nothing like that. I was just wondering why I'm alive."
"...Pardon?"
The Hound's voice wavered—faintly, but unmistakably. He could not make sense of his lady's words.
Why alive? Did that not sound as though she believed she ought to have died?
"Honestly, I hate to say this, but he seemed even stronger than that bastard's father."
"...."
"What? Was I wrong?"
And with that, she flashed a bright, easy grin. A truly beautiful smile, it was—and yet to the Hound, in that moment, she looked like nothing so much as a little imp. The grin of a mischievous brat, daring him to object if he believed her wrong.
"...."
"Can't answer, huh? Then I must be right."
"...Please rest now, my lady."
Hehehe— Leaving that small, careless laughter rippling faintly behind him, the man who had nursed her without pause moved to slip from the room. His lady had awakened hale and whole; there was no longer any reason for him to remain at her side. All she needed now was rest.
More than that, there were orders to carry out. The Family Head had commanded him to unearth and investigate every last scrap of information on those monsters. He intended to report only that his lady had awakened, then throw himself into that task at once.
—If only his lady had not caught him by the sleeve from behind.
"...?"
"Ah, one more thing. The people who were with me—are they all safe?"
The people who had been with her... no doubt she meant the two siblings, and the Saintess.
...But could anyone truly call them fine?
"...Why aren't you answering, again?"
Ah, blast. Too slow. His lady's unease reached him even here.
...Haha. So my lady, too, had friends who meant that much to her.
"...Well? Say something. Don't tell me..."
"Ah—your friends are all alive, my lady."
"F-friends? No—I mean, they're all right, then?"
All right, was it. Curious. Why did her tongue stumble now, when it had run so freely only a moment before?
"The Church sent their own people to escort the Saintess home."
"Mm. And?"
"As for the other two... the mansion they were staying in was all but torn down around them, so..."
"...?"
"Fortunately, the Family Head has taken those two in to stay at the estate."
"Oh. Good."
"Were you worried, my lady?"
"No. Not really. Why would I worry?"
That was what she said—yet inwardly, she too had been harboring a considerable worry of her own. The sensation was simply so utterly foreign to her that she did not recognize the emotion for what it was. She decided, instead, that it must come down to the debt he still owed her.
After all, the man had spared her life. Surely that meant there was a fair bit of fun yet to be squeezed out of him.
"Mm. So... you're telling me everyone's fine, then?"
"...."
"...Um? Hello?"
"Everyone else has regained consciousness, but..."
"...But?"
"The young lord of House Reinhardt has yet to wake."
"...."
"My lady?"
"...Hoo. First things first, then. Where is he?"
At that very moment, in another room of the Charlotte estate.
Black night had long since fallen, and yet brilliant light still poured from within that room—all for the sake of treating a single soul.
"The emergency treatment is complete, but..."
"But? Did something go wrong?"
"Ah—no, it isn't that. The patient's condition was simply so critical."
"...."
"First, if you would light these incense candles at the patient's side, his condition should improve a good deal further."
"Hmm... I see. And are you heading back now?"
"No, my lord. How could I possibly leave while my patient still lies there?"
"Then?"
"There is no telling what might befall him, were I to step away even briefly."
"...I see."
"Consider these a safeguard against precisely that."
"Hmm, very well. Is there anything else you need?"
"Ah... one more pair of hands to assist me, if at all possible."
"Understood. I'll send someone along shortly."
Incense candles brimming with holy power filled the room from wall to wall—yet gave off no smoke at all. Holy power took its place instead.
"Hmm... the wounds are nearly all closed now, so..."
"Hoo... hoo..."
"Late as it may be, the young lady should wake by tomorrow at the latest..."
Aria now drew slow, even breaths—so steady, in fact, that every ounce of worry her attendants had poured out until now seemed almost laughable. High priest John, dispatched headlong to this place, judged that she needed no further treatment whatsoever. The rest was a matter for her own body's natural mending.
Truthfully, healed to that extent, she was as good as fully recovered already.
"...."
"The problem is this one, I'm afraid."
"Khh... khh-hurgh...!!"
"Goodness, coughing up blood again. Lend me a hand wiping this, would you?"
"Yes, Father."
The condition of the man lying quietly at her side—Jenison—was her exact opposite.
John himself possessed no meager reserve of holy power, even measured against the Church's own. He had poured nearly all of it into this one man, and still his wounds healed at a strangely sluggish pace. As though something were actively interfering with the mending of his flesh.
Thinking it worth a try, he had fetched a high-grade potion from a nearby shop and fed it to him—even that had been refused. And this was the grade of potion said to reattach a severed arm, given nothing more than the right timing.
Not that it was any easier to brew for it, mind you.
"Koff... koff...!"
"Oh dear... what is it this time..."
For a man who placed the patient's safety above every other consideration, no better answer presented itself. In the end, the course he chose was simply this: to remain at the man's side until he woke, and treat him each and every time he vomited blood.
Cases where holy power proved ineffective had certainly existed before. But a body that recovered this slowly—this was a first even for him.
Perhaps, in the end, this was the best judgment available to him.
...And yet, best was all it was. He could not quite call it the right one.
"Khh-hurgh... koff..."
"Oh dear, oh dear... again..."
"Big brother...?"
Then it happened. The impossible came to pass.
The girl who should have needed a dozen hours of rest at the very least—she looked upon the brother lying beside her, and began to weep.
"Y-you're awake?! Here—how many fingers am I holding up?"
"Big brother... again... I was no help..."
"Um—first, let us check whether anything is wrong with your body—"
"I'm sorryyy... I..."
"...I'm going mad."
A man who had lived his whole life as a high priest, who had devoted his every year to God—and now, for the first time in that long life, he found himself face to face with a woman who answered him with nothing but tears.