Episode 8 — The Ambush

"Ambush! Shields up, all of you!"

Bern's shout ripped through the column.

"Form the defensive line around the Saintess's carriage! Priests, raise the barrier—now!"

Cries and the screaming of horses burst out together. The procession, which had been creeping along at a crawl, tangled into chaos in an instant. Holy knights closed around the carriage and planted their shields, while the imperial knights drew their swords and wheeled outward to face the trees.

But I could not give a single order.

There were still twelve hours left. I was sure of it…

We had not even reached the heart of the Valley of Weeping. The forest around us had been searched again and again for more than ten days. No tracks of monsters on the move, no abnormal surges of mana, no sign that anyone had prepared an ambush—there had been nothing wrong at all. And yet… why…

The blue window in the corner of my vision no longer showed how much time remained. It announced only one fact, and it announced it without ornament: it had already begun.

"Grrrr…"

A low bestial rumble spread through the forest from every side. Something was wrong. They were not charging out of the woods. In the shadows between the trees—empty only a moment before—blackness began to bleed outward, as if something were being born there, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from within it the monsters revealed themselves one by one.

Dire wolves that belonged in the high ranges. Trolls found only in swamps. Packs of goblins armed with human bone. Beasts that should have lived in utterly different territories were jumbled together in a single place, and among them were creatures never once reported to dwell in the Valley of Weeping. By rights they ought to have been baring their fangs at one another, yet not a single one showed the slightest hostility toward its own kind. Dozens of pairs of red eyes turned as one upon a single point—the carriage I was riding in.

"Kraaaaa—!"

With that roar, the monsters charged all at once.

Crash!

The shields planted at the outermost edge bucked and shuddered. A startled horse reared and flung the holy knight from its back, and a monster's claws slipped through the gap to tear a long gash down his arm.

"Aaaagh!"

Blood fountained through the rent armor. The smell of it pushed all the way into the carriage, and the moment I drew a breath the sickening reek clogged my throat.

On the far side of a screen, it had been nothing but a few lines of text. The Saintess's party was ambushed by monsters. Elysia repeated this moment dozens of times. In the end, only Elysia and Bern survived. That was all it said—because it was only a web novel. But a real scream did not pass the way a few lines of text did when you were reading. The sound of flesh tearing, the sound of broken bone twisting inside living meat, the face of a person screaming to be saved: none of it could be dismissed by closing the window, or skipped by moving on to the next sentence.

"Saintess, your orders!"

"We have wounded on the left!"

"They're closing from the rear as well!"

"Saintess!"

"Healing, please…!"

They called for me from every direction, and I could not tell whom to look at first. The instant a scream on the left jerked my head around, the formation on the right buckled and a new scream tore loose. In the space it took me to check the front, another monster appeared at the rear. My mind froze white.

Shhk—!

A line of white aura carved a long stroke through the air. The dire wolf leaping for the carriage lost its head, and before the black blood could even soak the ground Bern had already turned toward the next beast.

"Imperial knights, hold the vanguard! Holy knights, form up around the carriage!"

"Yes, sir!"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Priests, keep the barrier up and pull the wounded inside!"

The moment the orders fell, the knights who had been thrashing in confusion snapped back into their places. Shields overlapped, and long spears thrust out through the gaps. The priests wove their magic tighter, raising a barrier more solid than before. Goblins swarming the vanguard were run through, and when the barrier caught a troll's fist it answered with a blinding flare of light.

Bern did not so much as glance back at me.

"Saintess! The wounded are in your hands!"

Only then did I remember what I was supposed to do. I thrust out a trembling hand.

Pure white radiance wrapped the holy knight whose arm had been torn open. The split flesh drew back together. The bleeding stopped, and color returned to a face that had gone deathly pale. The knight stared down at his own arm as if he could not believe it, then snatched up his shield at once.

"Thank you, Saintess!"

I could do it. My power could save people.

"Bring the injured inside! I'll treat them!"

One. Then another. A knight whose thigh a monster had bitten through, a priest with broken ribs—every one of them opened their eyes and rose again the moment my light touched them. The wounded did not stop coming, but no one died. So long as my hands could reach them, no one died.

"Four critical, thirteen minor!"

"And the dead?"

"No confirmed fatalities so far!"

Almost in the same breath, the monsters pressing the vanguard began to give ground. The layered shields advanced a step at a time, and whenever the imperial knights drove their swords into the gaps, goblins and dire wolves collapsed in sprays of black blood. Little by little, the beasts' cries receded.

"Hold the line! Do not chase them in deep!"

Bern checked the knights who meant to pursue the retreating monsters at once. Only then could I truly look around me.

Everything we had prepared before setting out was doing its work. The supply corps passed healing potions and bandages to the wounded. The holy formulae inscribed on each carriage beforehand shed a faint light and slowed the monsters' approach, and the barrier the priests had raised was still holding firm. Plenty of people were a wreck—it would have been harder to find someone who was not bleeding—and yet no one was dead. Contrary to everything I had feared, the preparations had not been wasted.

"Move the wounded on the left to the second carriage. Use the healing potions on the lightly injured first, and bring every critical case to me."

For the first time, a complete order left my mouth. The priests stared at me in brief surprise, then moved at once.

"Yes, Saintess!"

The wounded were laid before me one after another. A shoulder torn open, fingers broken, claw marks driven deep beneath the armor—wounds ghastly enough that I wanted to look away. This time I did not freeze. I treated one, then set my hand on the next chest at once. Light spreading from my palm closed the wounds and steadied breaths that had been breaking ragged, and the knights who had fallen got to their feet again.

"It's… really healed."

"The Saintess is with us!"

"At this rate, we can win!"

Strength crept back into voices that had been nothing but fear. When a knight I had treated snatched up his shield and returned to the line, the others around him opened a place and took him in. The way they looked at me had changed. These were not the eyes of people waiting only to be saved. They were the eyes of people who trusted me, and meant to fight again.

"Saintess."

A small voice came from beside me. Nina was wiping the blood from my hands with a clean cloth. I had no idea ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠how long she had been holding it.

"Really, no one died."

Nina smiled, bright as daylight.

"You saved every one of them, Saintess."

The words sank deep into my chest.

That's right. No one has died yet.

What the original Elysia had never managed to do, in the end, I was doing.

"Saintess."

Bern flicked the black blood from his sword and stared into the surrounding forest.

"It is too soon to feel safe."

"But the monsters are falling back."

"They are not running."

Bern's eyes narrowed.

"They are opening the distance."

I looked to the forest. Driven back by the knights' counterattack, the monsters glittered with red eyes between the trees. They were not fleeing. They held a set distance and watched us, as if they were waiting for something. But what caught my eye before that fact were the knights being treated and rejoining the line. People who had been lying in their own blood only moments ago were rising again by my power.

"It's all right."

I drew up my holy power.

"If they come again, we only have to wipe them out before they get close."

Dozens of spears of light rose above my head. The hour and the place had both slipped free of what I had expected, and even so the troops and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠supplies we had prepared were working exactly as they should. The barrier stopped the monsters' attacks. The knights held their formation. And no matter what wound opened, I could heal it again. Then all I had to do was bring every last monster down before they could close.

The red eyes in the forest moved once more.

"Here they come!"

I drew a breath and readied the offensive holy magic I had drilled into myself. At the same instant the priest cried out, I brought my hand down.

Boom—!

Blinding radiance swallowed trees and monsters together. Goblins and dire wolves vanished without so much as a shape left behind. The blast tore thick trunks up by the roots, and even the knights standing nearby were thrown rolling across the ground.

"Ugh!"

"Hold the formation on the left!"

The fallen knights staggered upright. Some clutched an arm; some bled at the mouth from the shock. But every one of them stood again.

That much, I can heal.

I knew the force had been too great. But the result—the monsters were gone—made every problem that came with it seem trivial. Holy power still overflowed inside me. Wounds could be mended as often as I liked. Whenever something went wrong, I only had to pour out a greater power. Then no one would die.

As the fighting dragged on, the black blood of mana-soaked monsters spattered in every direction. The knights' pure-white armor was blotched with mud and gore, and sticky monster blood clung to shields and swords alike. Along the edges of open wounds, black stains were slowly spreading where eroded demonic miasma had taken hold. Dark red droplets beaded on the carriage walls and wheels as well.

In that moment, a single dire wolf forced itself through a gap in the wavering barrier and swung its claws at the carriage's open door.

"Look out!"

A priest who had been moving a wounded man through the open door collapsed on the threshold. Nina ducked the monster's claws, then seized the priest's arm at once and hauled him inside. In that same instant the beast was cut down by a holy knight's sword, and the black blood that sprayed struck the back of Nina's hand and the hem of her pale-blue skirt.

"Nina, get back!"

"I'll get him inside first!"

Nina held the injured priest and would not let go. Blood heavy with demonic miasma soaked her here and there—a few drops across the back of her hand, a palm-sized stain at the end of her skirt. At the time, no one spared those stains a thought.

That was when it happened.

From deep in the forest, a strange resonance spread. It was too low to be a beast's roar, and far too regular.

Kwoooooo—.

The monsters locked with the knights stopped moving all at once. The goblins fell back. The dire wolves split to either side, and the trolls turned their bodies with heavy steps. Dozens of pairs of red eyes fixed upon a single place: the left flank, where the knights caught in my attack had not yet recovered their formation.

No. More precisely, the left wheel of the carriage reserved for the Saintess.