One Step (1)
The mage, Nella Tar. She was a mage at the very peak of the 5th Circle, standing on the threshold of the 6th, and a genius lauded by the Magic Tower. Gifted in destructive magic, her role on the battlefield was to incinerate the lesser monsters while Aryen and Elroy handled the larger threats.
Georg, of course, was practically a human fortress, and Isis stayed behind his shield, healing the wounded. On paper, it was a perfectly balanced party with DPS, tanking, and healing all accounted for. The reality, however, was a different story.
Aryen and Elroy were constantly at each other's throats. Isis occasionally sided with Aryen, while Nella clung to the Hero's coattails, using his authority to torment both Isis and Aryen. Georg simply kept his mouth shut.
And then, in the original novel, not long after Elroy and Isis left the party...
"Why are we clearing these so slowly?! Didn't you kick Aryen out because you were confident? Aren't you supposed to be the Hero?!"
"At this rate, we'll die before we even lay eyes on the Calamity."
"If it was going to be like this, why didn't you stop the Saintess from leaving? Why did you banish Aryen from the party?"
"Why can't you fight even half as well as Aryen?!"
The Nella who used to fawn over the Hero vanished, replaced by a bitter, complaining teammate. It was during this period of constant friction with Elroy.
Right before the raid on the fifth Calamity, Nella Tar unilaterally announced her departure from the party. She left Elroy behind to crawl back to Aryen, who had successfully defeated the fourth Calamity.
And, as fate would have it, the Hero's party was wiped out during that very raid on the fifth Calamity.
With Aryen and Isis gone, there was absolutely no reason to keep her around. She was a member who did far more harm than good. I had no luxury to waste on thoughts of her redemption. Helping Daphne grow was already more than enough to keep my hands full.
"If Nella sees Daphne, she'll probably fly into a rage. A girl like her will take it as a massive blow to her pride."
Georg had told me that early in the morning two days ago. I had simply shrugged and continued sipping my tea in peace. It was a day when the rain, which had fallen for several days, was finally beginning to clear.
"What are you going to do?"
"It's only right to respect her wishes. If Nella chooses to stay in the Hero Party of her own accord, she might create a good synergy with Daphne. But if she decides she wants out..."
I looked at Georg with an expression that said, 'You know how it is, right?' Georg let out a sigh heavy enough to sink the floor.
"First Aryen, then Isis, and now Nella?"
"You sound awfully sure she won't stay."
"You know as well as I do that she isn't the type to swallow her pride and stay. And you, Elroy, aren't the type to beg someone like her to remain either."
He knows me well. I nodded. Georg shot me a look that asked, 'How can this bastard be so shameless?' but he soon shook his head. Ever since the hearing, the irritation in Georg's eyes had vanished, replaced by a lingering sense of curiosity.
"Do you really think Daphne can fill Nella's shoes?"
No matter how atrocious her personality was, Nella was a mage who, at a young age, was already on the verge of the 6th Circle—the minimum qualification to become a Magic Tower Master. While she wasn't on the level of Aryen or Isis, finding a replacement for Nella was no easy task. For anyone but me, that is.
"Yeah. I believe in her. I recruited her with the intention of taking responsibility for her until the very end."
Because I had no doubt that Daphne would eventually shatter her walls and shine brilliantly, I could answer Georg with absolute certainty. Georg furrowed his brow and crossed his arms—a habit of his whenever doubt crept in.
"...Fine. We'll find out soon enough."
And now, back to the present.
"Was today the day Nella returns?"
Georg let out a low groan. Even then, the sharp clicking of the mage's footsteps drew steadily closer. Resting my chin on my hand, I nodded. Thud, thud. The footsteps finally reached the door, and Nella flung it open as if she intended to tear it off its hinges. I could hear poor Daphne taking a small, hesitant step backward.
SLAM! Nella Tar stood in the wide-open doorway, silently scanning the office. She glared at me with eyes full of hatred, turned an even more burning gaze upon Daphne, and finally looked at Georg before opening her mouth.
"Explain to me what the hell is going on here."
Her voice was overbearing. Georg closed his eyes as if a headache were coming on. Daphne hovered hesitantly, glancing at me, and I calmly gave Nella her answer.
"We recruited a new mage. Her name is Daphne Epiphone. She's currently a 4th Circle—"
Nella cut me off, her voice rising to a screech.
"So what?! Why did you bring in another mage? I am standing right here, alive and well, as the mage of this party! What on earth possessed you?!"
"The more talent in the party, the better. We needed to fill the vacancies left by Aryen and Isis."
"Why is a mage filling the spots of those two bastards? Shouldn't you be picking up some stray swordsman from the streets instead? And you brought in a bitch like that? Calling her a 'talent'?"
Nella took a long, sharp breath. "Get rid of her right now. I'll overlook this once. Or, if that little whore has any sense, she'll walk out of here on her own." Nella growled, slowly stepping toward Daphne.
"I can't do that."
"What?" Nella stopped in her tracks and let out a hollow laugh. Her eyes narrowed sharply, darting between Daphne and me. Soon, she glared back at me, her face a tempest of conflicting emotions—disappointment, anger, irritation, and jealousy.
"You've fallen for her, haven't you, Hero? First you were sniffing around the Saintess, and now you've already found yourself a new bitch? You're acting like a dog in heat. What the hell is wrong with you?"
I was entirely unfazed. I had heard insults and provocations like this ever since I first dropped into this world—dozens, hundreds of times over. By now, they felt like nothing more than a casual greeting. But Daphne, who had been quietly listening to the exchange from behind me, apparently felt differently.
"What did you just say?" A cold voice—one I had never heard from Daphne before—drifted from behind my shoulder.
The day after Elroy fully recovered from his injuries. His recovery had been far faster than expected. Daphne had worried that he was pushing himself too hard, but Elroy had simply gripped the Holy Sword with his right hand and swung it through the air to reassure her. The bandages were no longer wrapped around his arm. Recalling her own handwriting that had been scribbled upon them, Daphne followed Elroy once more toward the outskirts of the Royal Capital.
"Starting today, let's focus less on casting barrier magic on me and more on using your destructive magic to take down the monsters." Elroy stretched as he spoke. He wore his usual confident, relaxed expression.
Of course, even then, Daphne still couldn't properly manifest destructive magic when standing before a monster. Though her fear of people had faded somewhat, the memories of her past still held her in a tight, unyielding grip.
"Shall we head a bit deeper? Our clearing speed is noticeably faster than before." Elroy nudged a Hornhog with his foot—now nothing more than shredded meat scattered across the forest floor.
Elroy had grown visibly stronger. It wasn't so much that his raw strength or mana had increased, but rather that a sense of ease had settled into his combat style. As if he had mastered the art of efficient energy distribution, he dispatched several Hornhogs without looking like he had exerted himself at all.
"You've gotten stronger." Elroy blinked in surprise at Daphne's words, then shrugged. "More like I've gotten calmer." He continued walking at an easy pace.
Despite all the effort he poured into helping her, Daphne's progress remained slow. In fact, there was none. Yet Elroy never rushed her; he simply took her out to the forest day after day, without fail.
"...Um, Elroy."
"Yeah?" At Daphne's call, Elroy paused and looked back at her.
The forest path, slick with half-cleared rain, was a muddy mess. The woods felt exceptionally dark and damp today, looming in a quiet, deep teal that perfectly mirrored the color of Elroy's eyes. Unable to resist a sudden impulse, Daphne let the words slip from her mouth.
"By any chance... do you like me, Elroy?"
Countless adventurers had treated Daphne like a flower in the past. A flower surrounded by thorns, of course. She would not be plucked, and no one even dared to reach into the brambles. They would merely spit at the thorns and walk away. They defined Daphne on their own terms, projected their expectations onto her, and then vanished, blaming her when those expectations fell through.
"...What?" The moment Daphne saw Elroy's expression shift, she instantly wished she could swallow her words. Elroy's brow furrowed in sheer bewilderment, which slowly gave way to a faint trace of disappointment.
No, that's not it. Daphne's pupils trembled violently. No. I didn't ask that to make you feel this way. She had been foolish. She already knew. She knew that Elroy was entirely different from the others.
Daphne knew that whenever Elroy spoke to her, his gaze never wandered; he looked straight into her eyes. And she knew that what lay within those eyes was trust and encouragement. Her question had been born of impatience. It was impatience, self-reproach, and a desperate desire to escape from the wall she couldn't seem to break through.
"Daphne... I—"
"I'm sorry." Daphne immediately apologized, bowing her head. Please don't be disappointed. Please don't look at me with different eyes. Don't hate me.
The silence was terrifying and heavy. She could hear every single drop of water dripping from the leaves, the sound of grass blades bowing under the weight of the moisture before springing back up.
"Should we sit down for a moment?" Elroy said with a sigh. Daphne nodded and used her magic to dry a wet rock. Elroy remained silent for a long time. Daphne stole a glance at him, then hung her head low once more.
How much time had passed? By the time the ripples of Daphne's question had been washed away by the sound of the rain, Elroy suddenly spoke.
"Calmed down a bit?"
"Yes."
"..."
"..."
"I'm sorry."
"As long as you know."
"...Are you mad?"
"A little?"
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad anymore."
"..."
"Still, it was a foolish question."
"...I know."
When Daphne finally looked up, Elroy was wearing his familiar, bitter smile. Any lingering awkwardness seemed to have completely vanished.
"Well, I suppose it might look that way to outsiders."
"It's not like that." Elroy chuckled at her timid response, stood up, and brushed off his pants. "Though I couldn't care less what they say."
Elroy extended his hand to Daphne. It was a gesture of reconciliation and forgiveness, a gentle invitation that carried a silent reassurance. Daphne took his hand and stood up. Her hesitation was gone, replaced by a single, resolute emotion. I will stay. By the side of the man who believes in me. Her grip tightened around Elroy's hand.
. . .
"You've fallen for her, haven't you, Hero? First you were sniffing around the Saintess, and now you've already found yourself a new bitch? You're acting like a dog in heat. What the hell is wrong with you?"
And now, right in front of her, was a person treating the man who believed in her like a dog in heat. A person demanding that her place of belonging be stripped away. It was one thing to be insulted herself, but she could no longer tolerate insults directed at the person who trusted her. She must not tolerate it.
Her heart pounded. Her mana writhed, urging her to step forward. Driven by an emotion she had never felt in her entire life, Daphne glared at Nella and spoke.
"What did you just say?"