Beyond the Original, Part 4
[Russell] Was it because of my age, just as the clerk had said? My legs felt like lead. I had barely walked any distance, yet my strength was already completely spent. I had let Millen land far too many blows. Not a single spot on my body remained unscathed. I staggered, on the verge of collapsing at any moment, as a relentless throbbing pounded in my head. Every step I took sent a vibration rattling through my brain. My vision had gone beyond blurry—it was fading into pitch black. Yet, I couldn't afford to fall. Not when my young daughter was riding on my back.
Look, Isolet. It seems our daughter takes after you completely. She is so incredibly stubborn. Once again, she's worrying me to death.
I had no idea how far I had walked. It felt like only a few minutes, yet it also felt like I had been wandering for hours. When I finally came to my senses, a girl dressed in black holy vestments stood before me. Beneath the veil draped over her head, her vivid silver hair caught my eye, along with her blood-stained gloves and a single axe.
"Take your daughter and go back the way I came. If you meet a silver-haired woman along the way, politely ask her for help. She will help you when she sees Isha."
She was an incredibly beautiful girl, even at a glance. She possessed long silver hair that naturally exuded nobility, and crimson eyes that cast a mysterious, otherworldly aura. The axe in her hand was chilling, but it paled in comparison to her emotionless gaze. Not a single trace of feeling could be found in the eyes she directed at me. It was a look reserved for a mere pebble on the side of the road. The girl, who had been raising her axe with mechanical indifference, suddenly flinched. She stared at me, then lowered her arm.
That knight had definitely mentioned Isha's name. Had they met before? As if on cue, my body finally reached its limit. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees before the girl. Fortunately, I managed to keep a firm hold on Isha, preventing her from slipping off my back.
"Pl-please... help us."
"You must be Russell."
"Yes. I am fine, so please, help Isha first..."
"Hmm."
I knew I had to promise her a reward, but the words caught in my throat. What could a man like me possibly offer her right now? Nothing came to mind. In that split second, a terrifying wave of killing intent washed over me, only to vanish just as quickly. Startled, I looked up at the girl, but the murderous aura was gone, and she had already sheathed her axe at her waist. Instead, a divine power—identical to the one I had felt from the knight—enveloped the area. It was an unsettling energy, yet it carried a strange, comforting warmth. Sensing my apprehension, her flat, emotionless voice rang out once more.
"I know you are anxious, but you can rest easy. Lay Isha on the ground first. My divinity is simply like this by nature."
"Could you... explain a little..."
"It is because this divinity is not meant for the living. It is only natural for life to fear death. Or are you so curious that you absolutely must hear the explanation right this second?"
"No, my lady."
The moment I laid Isha down, the girl placed her hand on my daughter's forehead and unleashed her divine power. The sheer volume of it was overwhelming, far eclipsing anything I had ever felt from other clergymen. Only then did a sense of relief wash over me. I quietly watched my daughter. As the holy light flowed into her, her ragged breathing grew calm and steady. The faint groans of pain she had been letting out began to subside. Every time I had looked at her wounds, my heart had felt as if it were being torn to shreds. This was a mercy beyond words.
You were just like her, weren't you? You never listened to a word I said. Not even until your very last breath. You have no idea how deeply you drove a stake through my heart.
I felt a sudden, irrational resentment toward my late wife. Yet, I was no better; I remained just as foolish and incompetent as I had always been. Even in this dire situation, seeing my daughter's face filled me with a profound sense of relief. My heart ached, yet a secret joy bloomed within me. I was as fickle as a child. I couldn't even remember the last time I had seen her sleeping so peacefully. We had lived so close to one another, yet I had failed to show her even this basic level of care. I should have stroked her forehead just once more. I should have at least made sure she never felt lonely. As a father, I had truly done nothing for her. What on earth had I been clinging to all this time? I wanted to brush away the stray hairs clinging to her cheek, but I hesitated, suddenly terrified of whether a man like me even had the right to touch her.
After a few more minutes, the young cleric stood before me once again. The axe was back in her gloved hand. By now, I had managed to piece things together. The fleeting murderous intent she had directed at me, the blood-stained axe, and what this meant for the future of Requitas.
"It seems I am of no use to you, my lady."
"Indeed. I had no particular reason to keep you alive. Besides, I dislike wasting the divine power I might need to heal my knight on a stranger."
"That is fine. Since you saved my daughter, you may take this worthless life of mine as many times as you wish."
"I have no use for it. I have no desire to lie to my knight over someone like you."
Her tone was ice-cold—except when she uttered the words my knight. The moment those words left her lips, her voice practically dripped with honey. It was easy to tell. This young lady was clearly in the middle of a passionate romance.
It was then that the girl grabbed one of my arms and lifted it. It was the arm Millen had completely shattered.
"I am going to cut it off."
"What did you just say?"
"I said I am cutting it off. If you keep this dangling, I cannot save your life."
There was not a shred of hesitation in the girl's swing.
Retracing the path I had taken, I soon encountered Sirien's divine power. The heavy, suffocating darkness that had blanketed the area vanished like a mirage the moment I stepped through. All that remained was the warm glow of an orange lantern. I walked forward, following the light swaying gently before me. The path was littered with corpses. Some were my handiwork, but I also spotted one or two who had taken their own lives by stabbing themselves in the throat. I thought I had swept the place clean, but it seemed a few had slipped through the cracks. No wonder Sirien always scolded me for being careless.
"Sirien?"
"Over here."
Her voice echoed from a short distance away. It seemed she had retreated into a secluded corner to hide the moment she crossed paths with Russell. Isha was sleeping peacefully, while Russell lay on the ground, having received only basic first aid. Nearby, his severed arm lay discarded on the floor. I had suspected it was beyond saving, and it seemed she had opted to amputate it entirely. It was a sensible choice. Leaving it attached would have only drained her divine power and put his life at risk.
"How are they?"
"Neither of their lives are in danger. Though they will have to suffer through a bit of a recovery."
"As long as they are alive, that is all that matters."
Russell had survived. I had saved a man who was destined to die in the original novel. It might have been a minor deviation, but I found myself thoroughly enjoying this turn of events. For the first time, I had successfully fractured the original plot. There was no telling what kind of ripple effects Russell's survival would cause. Surely, not all of them would be positive. Now that Isha had been spared the trauma of losing her father, she might never find the desperate drive to become a Sword Master as she had in the original timeline. And as Sirien had pointed out, we didn't strictly need Russell. In a way, we had already taken a minor loss. Yet, a living human is a walking bundle of variables, and variables do not always trend toward the worst-case scenario. We were now the saviors of both Russell and Isha. If it were anyone else, I might have doubted them, but Isha was simply not the type to betray her benefactors. I was already eager to see what kind of future this small fracture would forge.
Sirien patted the empty space beside her. Taking it as an invitation to sit, I did as she wished.
"Let's rest a bit before we head back. There is no rush anymore."
"Yeah."
Ironically, the moment I sat down, Sirien stood up. She peered closely at the side of my helmet, her beautiful brow furrowing in a frown.
"What is this? Are you hurt?"
"No. Not really."
"Don't lie to me. You look hurt. Take off your helmet."
Sirien demanded, already reaching out to pull the helmet off my head herself. Her eyes searched my face, brimming with deep suspicion. Then, she pressed her finger against the corner of my lips. Come to think of it, Millen had managed to land a solid blow on me during our fight. I had tasted blood in my mouth, so a little must have leaked out. How had she noticed something even I had forgotten? The worry on her face instantly crumpled into pure irritation.
"I knew it!"
Sirien's hands immediately flew out to punish me. She pinched both of my cheeks with her fingers and began shaking my face back and forth.
"Ow, ow! That hurts! Stop, stooop!"
"You were so incredibly confident, yet you went and got yourself hurt again! And you had the nerve to lie to me about it!"
"A scratch like this will heal fine if I just eat well and sleep—"
"Aaargh!"
"Aaaah!"
I shouldn't have opened my mouth. Infuriated, Sirien shook my head wildly. My pinched cheeks stung fiercely. Somehow, this felt infinitely more painful than the heavy blow Millen had landed on me. Lately, Sirien's hands had been getting strangely brutal. Where had the delicate young lady who used to throw soft, harmless tantrums back at the cabin gone? I missed the Sirien of those days so dearly...
Sirien only let go of me after tormenting me to her heart's content. Even though her divine power had flowed from her fingertips to heal my wound, my face somehow ached far more now than it had before. My cheeks were completely numb.
"Hmph. Let's rest a little longer, then head back. We need to see Baron Isquente."
"Didn't you originally plan to rest here for a few more days? At least until the cleanup crew arrived."
"That was the plan, but I think we need to meet with him a day sooner."
"Did something change?"
"You were right to insist on saving Russell, Rajen. I assumed the information he possessed would amount to nothing more than a few dirty secrets of the central nobles, but it is far more serious than that."
I had thought it was a minor fracture in the plot, but it seemed a massive fissure was already beginning to split wide open.
"Marquis Eloran is colluding with the demons. And Russell has the evidence to prove it."