The One Unbreakable Belief
Savoring the surprisingly serene dawn air of the imperial capital while idly watching the passersby, Ariel was approached by a man.
"You've arrived."
"Ah, Sir Levan."
The man was dressed in a black priestly robe, with a pistol engraved with a cross holstered at his waist.
He was a holy knight from the Church of Light, whom Ariel had ordered to investigate the drug incident in the capital.
In normal circumstances, Ariel would have expressed her gratitude to the holy knight out for catching drug dealers on her command, but the situation didn't allow for it.
"Shall we get moving, then?"
Ariel glanced around as she spoke.
Her face was already widely known.
As the Saintess of the Church of Light, it would have been stranger if people didn't recognize her.
Even though she'd chosen the earliest airship to avoid unnecessary commotion, she could feel the airport's atmosphere starting to buzz. With a soft smile, she said,
"Too many eyes here for a report."
. . .
Guided by Levan, she arrived at a hotel where members of the Church of Light had gathered. There, she immediately received a briefing on the current situation from the priests and holy knights assembled.
"Hmm. I see."
After hearing the progress on the Miraz drug and the treatment status of those addicted, Ariel let out a relieved smile.
"Fortunately, the addicts were freed from their addiction thanks to swift action."
This was the reason Breck had said the Church's people had stirred up the drug incident and exposed it all.
While investigating the drug, the Church members had gone above and beyond by treating those addicted to Miraz.
Abel and Breck hadn't bothered much with saving existing addicts; their goal was to eradicate the source.
But Ariel was different.
She believed that even among the addicts, there had to be innocents who had fallen into it unknowingly.
It was a decision rooted in her experiences from before her regression—back when she was the bastard child of a count, born and raised in the slums.
'It was horrific...'
Thinking of the scenes she'd witnessed before her regression, Ariel's eyes darkened unconsciously.
She still remembered it vividly.
The screams of a man who had unwittingly fallen into drugs through someone else's scheme, surviving day by day on them.
His stomach acid had refluxed so badly that his teeth were long since corroded.
Without the drug, the excruciating pain wracking his entire body could only be soothed by more of it.
Like a zombie, he shuffled about, regaining his senses for just a few minutes each day—always weeping and sobbing those words.
That man's tears, his screams, still echoed vividly in her ears.
A vicious cycle of evil, made all the worse because it was imposed by another's will.
Someone might say it: Your meddling slowed down the eradication of the drugs. You made the Church overstep, delaying the chance to cut off the source.
Sure, that might be true. It was a perfectly valid criticism.
But Ariel didn't bend her stance.
An unbreakable conviction, firm and unyielding? No, it wasn't that.
She was someone who listened to others and could bend if needed.
But there was one thing she would never compromise on.
'...'
Priestly divine power could cure drug addiction in its early stages.
Miss that window, and it became impossible forever.
To fully eradicate the drugs, leave the treatable addicts to their fate?
When it was obvious their lives would become nothing but endless suffering, barely clinging to survival?
'I can't.'
Call her shortsighted if you must.
But she refused to compromise on saving lives.
If she'd bent on something like that and abandoned her beliefs long ago, she would have despaired and done nothing.
Regression.
Thanks to the sacred relic, she'd regressed—but the world wasn't the one she knew, and the constraints of regression would have already doomed everything.
'Whew... My thoughts are wandering too far.'
As her mind deepened, Ariel noticed the priests and holy knights watching her silently. She stopped and looked ahead.
"Did you send the letter to Baek-Young as I requested?"
"Yes. It was left at the door in the early hours."
The priest handed her a letter stamped with the emblem of the Nebla Duke Family's execution unit, Baek-Young.
"This morning?"
She'd sent her letter to Baek-Young just last evening.
A reply this quick was unexpected.
Dale Newspaper
Time: 7:30 PM
We accept the alliance. — Abel
The letter contained a simple address, time, and a curt message.
Dale Newspaper—one of the empire's many papers, the public face of the Nostra family.
Ariel's gaze fixed on the final line, the name Abel.
Abel.
A name she'd first heard after regressing. A bastard son of the Nebla Duke Family she'd never known.
'No idea.'
Ariel had never met Abel.
Not face-to-face, not even seen his face.
So why did she know his name and request his company first?
'What is the head of the Nebla family thinking?'
When she'd started digging into the airship terror preventer, the duke head must have noticed.
But Ariel hadn't worried much, even suspecting as much.
Before her regression, the Nebla head had shown zero interest in his other bastards.
She'd been just another concubine's child back then.
His indifference was infamous enough for even her to know.
'But this time...'
It was different.
Just one day after she began investigating Abel.
The Nebla Duke Family's secret elite assassin unit, Am-Young, had come to her.
The duke's sharpest rumored blade.
When she saw Am-Young enter her bedroom, she'd braced for death.
"..."
But mocking her resolve, Am-Young simply delivered one piece of information.
It was straightforward: rough profiles of the current Nebla bastards. And at the end, what looked like the head's own handwriting.
It's probably Abel, the bastard you're looking for from our family, Saintess.
"..."
Thinking of the Nebla head again made her head ache.
What was he planning? Disinformation? Threat? Warning? Reconciliation? No, none fit.
She had no clue. Truly none.
An unsolvable riddle.
No point dwelling; it'd just hurt more.
Shaking off the thoughts, Ariel looked around.
"Alright. Let's follow the letter. Until then, prioritize treating the addicts."
She pulled a hair tie from her pocket and bundled her long hair up.
To help treat the addicts herself.
Long hair just got in the way with patients.
But as Ariel moved to act, the other priests and holy knights hesitated, looking like they had something to say.
Understanding, she smiled warmly.
"I know you're all uncomfortable allying with the Nostra family and Nebla Duke Family."
How could she not? The priest's reaction when handing the letter said it all.
"But remember: we need their help to cut off the drugs and ease others' suffering."
The priests and holy knights stared blankly at Ariel.
Criminals. The Nebla family, no less? That scandal-ridden house?
No one would welcome it.
"Now, then."
But their Saintess—the one they followed—had spoken.
Would they abandon saving lives over that?
"Shall we move?"
The Saintess had never raised her voice or attacked anyone verbally. Never forced her views.
She simply stated her beliefs and acted on them.
And that's why they followed her.
"""May the blessing of Luminus, god of light, be with us."""
Not fanaticism from being chosen by Luminus.
Not blind obedience to the Church's Saintess.
They followed because her brilliance—her unhesitating drive to save others—was dazzling.
Reminded of that, the priests and holy knights sprang into action.
And that's why the sacred relic chose her.
. . .
Leading the effort to treat drug addicts, Ariel spent the day until the appointed time. Then she changed into neat clothes and headed to the meeting spot.
"This is it."
Arriving at Dale Newspaper, Ariel entered the building with her escort holy knight.
"Hello."
A secretary-like figure greeted her politely upon entry.
"And you are?"
"Sent by Mr. Breck to attend you, Saintess. Just call me secretary."
"Not sharing your name, then?"
A grin.
'No intention to.'
"This way. They're waiting."
Following the secretary, Ariel ascended floor by floor to the top.
Her tension built unconsciously.
Thump thump.
"Everyone's beyond this door."
The secretary stepped back, as if her job was done.
'Beyond this door.'
Abel. He was there.
The one who altered the history she knew.
A true irregular, changing the future before she even moved.
'What kind of person is he?'
Calm? Impulsive? Reports said cold.
Thump thump.
"Hoo..."
Suppressing her pounding heart, Ariel steeled herself.
Creeeak.
"Oh, you came."
Inside, a man—presumably Abel—waved with a small smile.
Languid expression, decadent eyes.
Gray hair like murky clouds.
'That's Abel?'
As she stared blankly, a strange scent tickled her nose.
'What is this?'
Like leaves, but not quite.
(She'd learn later it was cigar smoke.)
For now, unaware, Ariel watched Abel's sly smile.
"Come, sit. We've got a lot to talk about."
A bit dangerous-looking. That was Ariel's first impression of Abel.