In the Memories (1)
After changing out of my tattered clothes, I met Aryen, feeling a bit self-conscious. I hadn't slept a wink all night, but the fatigue hadn't caught up to me yet. Aryen was waiting for me, sitting on a bench in the church's backyard, wearing the exact same gear he had worn to hunt down the cultists. The sun was rising, cutting through the dawn sky.
"What did you want to talk about?" I asked immediately, looking at Aryen. We weren't exactly on terms where we could just casually shoot the breeze.
"You saved them," Aryen said, without any context.
I frowned and scratched my head. I didn't feel like picking a fight by demanding he explain himself.
"Well, because I could."
"You weren't always someone who spoke so simply and directly." Aryen looked at me. Whenever he used to look at me, he would always scowl or glare out of the corner of his eye, but now he was looking straight at me.
"Though I don't know if you've changed."
"Maybe I have. But how could I be the one to say that?" I replied bluntly.
Aryen lowered his head toward the garden grass, seemingly indifferent to my tone. The wind blowing over the hill ruffled his messy black hair.
"There were a few things I wanted to ask."
"Go ahead." Has he been organizing his questions while glaring at me all this time? I walked over and sat on a bench a short distance away from Aryen's. From afar, it probably looked like two men sitting far apart, staring in different directions while having a conversation.
"How did you stop them?"
"Stop what?" Is cutting out all context before speaking just his signature style?
Aryen looked up at me again. His eyes seemed to say, You should have understood what I meant. Honestly, while the original Elroy before my transmigration was a piece of work, Aryen really needed to fix his communication skills too.
"The Doomsday Cultists. How did you stop so many of them on your own?" Aryen's voice carried a chilly undertone. It was a mix of disbelief and confusion. His eyes, glimpsed through his messy hair, locked onto me. I couldn't tell if he was searching for an answer or trying to trap me.
I pondered whether I should tell him the truth about what had happened.
"...The villagers were more interested in the Hero than I expected." What would you have done? I narrowed my eyes, studying Aryen. What would have happened to this village if we had killed the child? Even the child's father, the only man who had kept his sanity, would have gone mad. Just the fact that an outsider had killed one of their own would have meant crossing a point of no return between us and the villagers. Of course, with Aryen's abilities, he still could have easily dealt with the cultists, but sacrifices would have been inevitable. And in the end, the outcome would have been far worse than attempting to cure the child.
"Interested in the Hero? Did you step forward to draw their attention?"
"You can think of it that way. It's not something to brag about, and I don't really want to go into detail."
Aryen turned his head away from me and stared blankly into space for a long moment.
"They might hold a grudge. But I don't believe the Hero's party back then deserved their resentment. The aftermath was the kingdom's responsibility, but the kingdom took a massive blow during the battle against the Kraken."
Scritch. Aryen's boot dug into the grass.
"Even if only to prepare for the next Calamity, they had to conserve the resources they would have poured here and deploy them to Evernode instead. In that regard, the kingdom did its best. Even now, reconstruction is progressing bit by bit." His voice as he spoke was cold.
"We are under no obligation to accept their resentment either. It was their choice to stay on this land and fall into the ruin of Doomsday Cult worship."
His words were pitifully mechanical and rational. Yet, I didn't feel angry. The story I knew was that of Aryen the mercenary. I knew exactly why he went to such lengths. But just because I wasn't angry didn't mean I agreed with him.
"If the way to save these people is by bearing their resentment, then I'll gladly do it. Well, though it wasn't me who saved them, but Isis."
I had intentionally kept my involvement to a minimum this time. I didn't know how the villagers would react if I showed myself, and running around recklessly might have only provoked backlash. The only thing I could do was absorb their grievances.
"There must have been a way to redirect that resentment to me instead."
"As if I'd do something so childish," I grumbled in response to Aryen's remark.
"Salvation is far too sweet a word," Aryen said, his voice bitter and hollow.
"You think it's an exit from the darkness, but the moment you realize it's an illusion, you plunge into despair. And then you realize... there is no such convenient thing in this world."
"Until that moment comes, I will keep saving them. Even if I knew that such a day would eventually arrive, it's not a crime to try. That's not a mistake."
Aryen rested his head in his hand, staring down at the ground. I looked up at the sky, watching the drifting clouds. Wisps of clouds floated like scattered sculptures high above.
"...As I thought, I just don't get along with you."
"Is that so?" There was no anger in Aryen's voice. I slowly lowered my gaze from the sky, looking at his bowed head.
"The only ones who matter to me are my own people. Most people probably think it's enough just to protect their own world. That's why the villagers here fell for the Doomsday Cult, praying to the Evil God and waiting for the end of the world. Because their world had already ended back then."
Aryen turned his head, looking toward the church, the downhill path beyond it, and the village that lay at the end of that path.
"If Isis had been hurt in the process, I would have drawn my sword. And I would have slaughtered the mob that harmed her. Just as Bishop Andre said. Just as they lost their world, I would have resented and hated them."
Once again, Aryen and I locked eyes. I opened my mouth.
"And I probably would have stood in your way. I would have stopped you both, no matter what."
"The kindness you offer to the world should only come from what's left over after protecting your own. That's how everyone lives," Aryen said firmly.
"Do you think someone who tries to protect another's world when even what's in their own hands is unstable can keep their own safe? Even if that person is the Hero?" Aryen shook his head.
"They can't. I can say that with absolute certainty. Even if you put a blade to my throat, my answer won't change. And Elroy, the way I see it, your method is just that precarious."
Aryen continued. Slowly, emotion began to seep into his words.
"I believe that if we had followed your words back then, we might have stopped the Kraken. I can't deny that. But surely, someone in our party would have had to die."
Aryen clenched his fists tightly.
"...I couldn't let that happen. I am not a good person. That's why I draw a clear line between what is mine and what is not, and I protect what is mine. And I don't believe that goodness is always the right answer."
Aryen was drawing a line across the world with himself as the boundary.
"I believe the moment we deny the possibility of salvation is the moment we fall into ruin. Someone has to believe in it, and someone has to act on it, so that we aren't consumed by the end. Someone has to foolishly wish and believe that they can protect everything." I looked straight into Aryen's eyes.
"Because in this world, there are people who can't even protect their own worlds, like you said."
"A foolish thought indeed."
Clang! Our swords clashed simultaneously. I stared at Aryen's face past the showering sparks.
"In the end, it seems I won't be able to help you."
"I was the one who banished you. I'm the one who doesn't want your help."
Grind. Aryen raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by my improved skill, before knitting them together in a grimace. Frustration, confusion. I read those emotions in his eyes.
We stood locked in a stalemate for a while, swords pressed against each other, before Aryen spoke first.
"I see you didn't defeat the fourth Calamity for nothing."
"I'm always down for a spar."
Aryen lunged at me again. His swordplay was ridiculously fast, precise, and cunning. Blocking was heavy, and dodging would mean surrendering the initiative. I met the tip of his blade with mine, crushing his attack.
"...!" Screech. Our swords tangled like serpents, letting out a sharp shriek. My face remained expressionless, while Aryen's lips twisted slightly.
Gripping the hilt of the Holy Sword with both hands, I swept it downward. Rather than resisting the strike, Aryen slid his blade down the Holy Sword's edge, aiming the pommel of his hilt at my head.
Whoosh. Ducking would make my movements too large. I spun my body in the opposite direction, letting Aryen's attack slip past. Although Aryen's torso was exposed, his overextended arm was ready to snap back at any moment. I rammed my shoulder forward to prevent him from swinging, trying to break his balance.
"Not yet."
Thud. A dull pain shot through my arm. Aryen had driven his knee straight into my body. However—
"—!" My body seemed to have grown far sturdier than Aryen anticipated, too much so to back down from just that.
Thud. Aryen staggered backward. I swept my arms, which had been cocked to the right, upward from below. Even with his balance disrupted, Aryen defended against my attack flawlessly.
What followed was a battle of pure steel against steel, utilizing neither Aura nor Mana.
I was losing ground. It might be a different story if I were slaying monsters, but in a duel against a human, I could never defeat him. Skill, experience, split-second judgment—in every aspect except raw physical strength, I was being overwhelmed, as if about to be devoured. The initial momentum of our even clash gradually began to tilt toward my defeat.
Clash! Aryen's sword and mine collided in midair and ground to a halt. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. The grimace on Aryen's face remained. After studying my expression, Aryen suddenly relaxed his arms, breaking the deadlock, and lowered his sword.
"...?" I asked him with my eyes why he was stopping, but Aryen ignored my gaze, sheathing his sword of his own accord.
"I just realized that the very act of fighting you is too contradictory," Aryen spat out, then began walking back toward the church.
I watched his retreating back and let out a sigh. I had a feeling that even if it wasn't today, I would clash with him again someday.
"Do not take his words too deeply to heart, Elroy."
"You are not alone."
I nodded heavily at her words. Right, I have you, after all. I chuckled softly and stroked the hilt of the sword.
"...Even if it is not me, you have others, do you not?"
The Holy Sword murmured, and I smiled bitterly as I sat back down on the backyard bench.
The people's resentment, the matter with Isis. Over the past two days, too many things had happened that were completely different from how things were in Evernode. I closed and opened my eyes, looking up at the sky once more. The drifting wisps of clouds were gone, leaving only a clear, blue expanse. Somehow, I had a feeling that today's conversation with Aryen would linger in my mind for a very long time.