Renegotiation
A fishy tang of blood drifted at the tip of my nose — a deep, heavy stench I knew all too well from long experience. Some impact had just torn through this buried, hidden chamber hard enough to make it shudder, and now came the gobs of blood dripping from above, their timing suspiciously perfect. They glistened hot and fresh — spilled mere moments ago, that much was plain — but beyond that, no further information was to be gleaned. For me, at least.
The Saintess, who had been keeping her head bowed as though in resignation, went suddenly rigid — eyes rounding as her gaze locked onto the blood dripping steadily from the ceiling.
"Th-this...? W-wait just a moment, I have to go and see—"
"And just where do you think you're going? Did everything I said to you mean nothing at all?"
With that she bolted for the door — so abruptly that she forgot the robe draped over her shoulders entirely, dashing out half-naked as she was. I barely managed to cut off her path, gathered up the fallen robe, and settled it back into place, then, with my temper held on the shortest of leashes, lectured her once more. Even mid-lecture she kept stealing glances at my face, so my expression was clearly none too pleasant. No wonder she kept tiptoeing around me. And yet even that didn't bend her resolve to leave; even now she was shoving against me, testing for an opening.
"Wh...why are you—"
"Hm?"
"I've grown rather curious as to why you're acting this way all of a sudden. You heard that sound just now as well — I doubt you felt nothing."
"..."
"At the very least, tell me why you're so desperate to rush off alone like this."
"...Something has happened at the Church."
Something had happened at the Church? That much anyone could have guessed from the explosion alone — there was even a fresh drop of blood still falling from the ceiling. Even so, it was no reason for such desperation, not from a woman who until moments ago had been on the verge of being violated. And yet the Saintess looked frantic with urgency, so much so that I wondered if she was truly the same person who had been so calm until now.
"That blood — it was heavy with holy power."
"...."
"And no small amount of it, either. Do you understand what that means..?"
"...I believe I can guess."
Even someone as oblivious as I was couldn't miss it, not with events strung together this neatly. Blood saturated with holy power. An impact violent enough to shake the entire Church to its foundations. Someone was assaulting the Church — and savagely enough to leave casualties in their wake.
"Then let me go already!! I'm telling you, it's an emergency!"
"No."
As if I would ever simply wave her through. I hadn't cared for the god this Church worshipped from the very start. Whether the whole institution crumbled to dust or not was none of my concern. Even the quest the Status Window had handed me said nothing about defending the Church — it asked one thing and one thing only: rescue its proxy. Which meant that from the moment I pulled this Saintess out of harm's way, everything required of me was already done.
≪You have rescued the "Sun's" proxy — the Saintess, Hildegard.≫
≪You have successfully fulfilled the "Sun's" request.≫
≪Reward: The Rosary of the Sun has been granted.≫
≪The "Observation" function has been added to the Status Window.≫
≪"Observation" requires no activation phrase; it interprets the user's intent and activates of its own accord.≫
At some point, a rosary of dazzling goldwork had taken up residence in my hand. Surely no one would hand over a plain rosary as a reward — and sure enough, the moment that doubt crossed my mind, new script surfaced across the Status Window.
◈ Once per day, bestows tremendous power upon the user.
◈ The magnitude of that power is determined by the user's will.
A once-per-day limit, but it had at least proven itself a genuine artifact. Better still, the power itself had no fixed ceiling — only a condition attached. All things considered, a decent reward; aside from the running, it hadn't even been particularly taxing. And then there was the bonus function added to the Status Window. Judging by the name alone, it seemed to offer a rough sketch of a target's information. As a test, I turned it on Rignil, who was dying by slow degrees over there. The mere thought of calling up his information conjured a fresh window before my eyes.
Target:Rignil
Race: Human
Title: Bishop of the Church of the Aslan Empire
Once nothing more than an ordinary man, he discovered the vast holy power sleeping within him after a certain incident. He joined the Church soon after, playing the devout believer before all, and upon finally rising to Bishop, unleashed his desires without restraint — using his standing within the Church to toy with countless women. Any woman who caught his eye, he would violate by any means necessary.
Trait:Desire Release
The stronger his desires burn, the more powerful his magic becomes.
Reading it over twice changed nothing: he was a man tailor-made for exactly the end he had met. I clicked my tongue at the profile, and the Saintess before me pressed her plea anew — let her go, she said; this was a moment she simply had to go.
"By the time you arrive, Saintess, it may all already be over."
"I don't care!!"
"You may arrive only to find a situation beyond your help. And you may well suffer something like this all over again."
"You're right. I..I'm powerless, and without someone to protect me I can't do anything on my own. That's exactly what I am."
"How reassuring that you know it."
"But the people who've spent years beside me at the Church, through thick and thin — they might be hurt right now! What if my own..f-father is injured in there?"
"...."
Tears were creeping into the Saintess's voice. Her round eyes had gone damp as well, glistening as though they might spill over at any moment.
"Rimel — the ten-year-old who once clung to my sleeve, acting sweet and begging for just one piece of candy. Sir Behorn, who has always stood guard at the Church's gates, proud and unshaken. Even Priest Hern — gruff and brusque, yet always willing to quietly listen to whatever troubles someone needed to unburden."
"..."
"And that blood out there could be theirs — and you're telling me, a Saintess, to just stand here and do nothing?"
"...."
"Thank you, truly, for saving me, Brother. But..I can't just stand by."
There was no getting through to her anymore. Hers was already the face of someone who had made peace with whatever came next. Honestly, with my reward in hand, I had no further obligation to shield the Saintess — I'd have liked the Church's backing, but it was nothing I couldn't do without. So at last I stepped aside in grudging acquiescence, and she, watching me warily the whole while, dipped her head once and shot out the door like a bolt. From behind me drifted a sniveling "Me too.. m-me too.." — I paid it no mind. These ears of mine hadn't been remade to listen to the whining of trash like him.
And so, just as I set about making my own quiet preparations to slip away from the Church with my prize, the letters appeared before me yet again — seemingly tireless.
≪The "Sun" warns that if you send her off like that, its proxy will be plunged into danger once more.≫
≪The "Sun" begs you to protect her one final time.≫
"Refused. I saved her once — that much is fact — and she is the one who chose to walk away."
≪The "Sun" explains that the Church's faithful are like family to her.≫
"That, too, is not my concern. They are not my family."
≪The "Sun" offers yet another reward alongside its earnest plea.≫
≪A quest has been generated at the "Sun's" behest.≫
Please save the Church from its crisis.
🎁 Reward: ????, ????
⚠ Note:This quest may be refused.
Refusable. An unthinkable concession from a being that treasured the Saintess beyond all reason. Which, thought through, meant one thing: no matter how this ended, the Saintess would live. But it would surely cast a long shadow over her future — and that was why it begged for my help.
Yet the very next thought kept me from resting easy. That the Saintess would survive was good news for me too — but what if she lived on into a life that felt like no life at all? If word of her reached me one day, could I ever claw free of the guilt? If she lost her smile? If she lost her family? If she lost her trust in people? And if — worst of all — she forsook her faith and finally shattered beyond mending? Could I hear all of that and still feel nothing?
I wrestled with it on the spot for a long while — long enough that I couldn't have said how many minutes had slipped past. Once the thinking was done, what needed doing was simple.
"..Goddess. Scale down your conditions."
≪The "Sun" asks what you mean, puzzled.≫
I leveled a finger toward the ceiling and continued in a calm, weighty voice — as though to impress that letting this chance slip would spell disaster.
"Change the terms: I will save the Saintess from the crisis unfolding up above. Grant me that much, and I am willing to take it on."
≪The "Sun" brightens and accepts the revised terms.≫
≪The "Sun" extends its heartfelt gratitude.≫
"Spare me the useless pleasantries and hand over the information."
≪The "Sun" asks what information you seek.≫
"Locations."
The instant the word left my mouth, the Status Window shifted once more — into a map again, laying out the whole area in fine detail. This time, unlike before, the Church's people and the hostiles seemed to be marked apart, and as I kept watching, I realized the situation was even graver than I had imagined. Enemies blanketed every direction, and the faithful were thinning by the moment — more than enough, on its own, to set my feet moving faster.
Meanwhile, even amid all this chaos, one man was carrying on his devotions in the prayer room. The only thing that set his prayers apart from any other's was this: he was not praying to an ordinary cross, but to an inverted one.
For a long while the man prayed with his head bowed, without so much as a twitch. Then, slowly, he lifted his face and let out an exclamation steeped in madness.
"At last.. so little time remains now..! O our.. Moon.."