The Meeting - 4
Time rewinds a little earlier.
Around the moment the Hero arrived at the church, the two Holy Knights stepped into my room, asked for leave, and took their places behind the table.
The sight of the two of them in clanking silver armor standing at my back looked reassuring enough, yet I knew full well they were nothing more than extras treated like decorative screens.
So they wear armor on special days like this.
It was oddly novel to see them in full plate when they normally wore only light cloth. In the end, though, they were people whose faces I would never even properly see before forgetting them entirely.
Feeling a faint twinge of regret, I waited for the Hero. Then a single soft knock sounded at the door.
Tak—
The handle turned at once and the door swung wide open.
The sun shone from behind me, casting a long shadow that stretched out and stopped right in front of the Hero.
The line the Saintess is supposed to say…
—Welcome.—
The Hero looked at the words written on the paper, then offered me a stiff, slightly awkward greeting.
"Hello."
To one of them it was a reunion; to the other, a first meeting.
His black robe still had the hood drawn up, so the Hero pushed it back and fully revealed himself. He walked straight forward, took the seat across from me, and opened his mouth.
"Greetings, Saintess."
"My name is Ain. I am the Hero of this generation."
"Please join my party."
"I need you."
The reason the Hero could speak with such confidence was the Holy Kingdom’s deep respect for tradition—and the fact that a Hero had always acted alongside the Saintess.
The answer I was supposed to give was, of course, acceptance.
So the story was finally beginning. A tangle of anticipation, excitement, nervousness, and perhaps even fear whirled through me, yet my hand steadily did what it had to do.
—Understood.—
I wrote the words and turned the paper so the Hero could see.
That takes care of the important scene. Now…
I was already relaxing and thinking about the next line of dialogue when the Hero suddenly spoke again.
There isn’t supposed to be any more dialogue after this. We’re supposed to leave the next day…
The situation had diverged sharply from the game.
"Let us depart at once."
Fortunately the mask did not crack. The solid mask called “Saintess” would not shatter over something so minor. Keeping my expression carefully composed, I calmly wrote on the paper.
—What do you mean by that?—
"The front lines are in a precarious state right now."
He continued without pause.
"We need reinforcements as soon as possible—even a single day earlier would help."
Yes, his reasoning was perfectly sound. The front lines truly were in danger; it had simply been an element the game never made obvious. But the Hero had never said anything like this.
Already the future I knew was twisting beyond my control.
The small, subtle differences inside the Holy Kingdom had been manageable. The Hero arriving in only two days was trivial—if anything, the extra time could even be seen as a positive. But if I went to the front lines with my still-immature holy arts, my true nature might be exposed. All the careful work I had put into this solid mask would become worthless.
It was true that my proficiency had risen when the Erosion Rate suddenly spiked for no reason, yet reaching the original Saintess’s level of skill in so short a time was impossible.
So what answer should I give? My mind spun, yet no solution appeared.
In that moment one of the Holy Knights standing beside me suddenly spoke. Another variable.
"Hero, my name is Jerome."
The abrupt self-introduction made me lift my head to look at him.
He’s supposed to be an extra…
His blond hair caught the sun at his back, casting a long shadow.
"I will go with you as well."
Jerome’s blue eyes shone as he spoke.
"Please add me to the party."
"Take me to the front lines."
"I will not be a burden."
He finished as though he already expected rejection, then squeezed his eyes shut. Rejection would have been the natural outcome. There was a line that an extra who never even received a name in the game simply could not cross.
The Saintess tensed at the appearance of this major variable called Jerome, yet she still believed her plans would not collapse. She already had an optimal party composition prepared, and she confidently assumed that even a naïve country boy would never accept Jerome’s request.
What the Saintess could not know was that the Hero had accepted Jerome’s proposal in previous loops as well.
Beside them, his younger sister Titia forgot the Hero was even present and began scolding him in an agitated rush, trying to stop him.
"…Have you lost your mind?"
"What on earth are you thinking, saying you’ll go to the front lines?!"
"You could serve safely in the rear—why would you—"
"You’re just going to leave me here all alone?"
Jerome opened his eyes and met his sister’s gaze. He forced the words out with difficulty.
"I… finally have a goal."
"I may have forgotten it."
"The responsibility and duty that come with the name of a knight."
"If I don’t chase that goal now, I no longer know what I’m supposed to live for."
He paused briefly, then continued.
"Is it truly a knight’s duty to live each day in safety at the rear, merely grateful to be alive?"
"While countless people die on the front lines, is simply standing by and living in comfort the Holy Knight I wanted to become?"
"All I can see is a powerless little boy who couldn’t even protect the girl at his side."
"I was still a child. Still a fool."
He spoke of his resolve.
"So I intend to set it right, even now."
Having finished, Jerome glanced around awkwardly and apologized to the Hero.
"…I’m sorry."
The Hero scratched the back of his head with one finger, looking embarrassed.
He hasn’t changed at all from our first meeting.
Feeling the reality of having truly turned back time, the Hero answered Jerome’s apology a little awkwardly.
"It’s all right."
Watching the entire mess unfold, the Saintess clicked her tongue inwardly.
Jerome? Never heard the name.
This is going to wreck the party composition. I was planning to bring the top-tier characters, and now this sudden curveball?
If I force the issue and stop him, it’ll hurt my image.
Stay calm. Act carefully.
Then, without warning, Titia strode over, slammed the door shut, and left the room. The Saintess flinched and trembled. It was a shameful, hasty action unworthy of a knight—the result of being far too faithful to her own emotions.
Jerome neither followed nor stopped her.
"I would like an answer now."
The Hero hesitated for a moment, then replied.
"Come with us."
This man will definitely be useful.
A faint smile touched his lips.
How much time passed with conversation cut off between us? Swept along by the smoothly flowing progression of events, I had no choice but to simply entrust my body and follow. The Saintess was meant to be an advisor and, at the same time, passive. Still, the sudden extra Holy Knight—no, Jerome’s impulsive action—was undeniably a major variable.
Even if every other variable could be forgiven, in a game whose ideal clear party size was four or five, having a single slot taken by an extra who wasn’t even a second- or third-tier character would become a serious obstacle to clearing.
How had the situation changed so drastically? Even if my possession alone had triggered a butterfly effect, this was far too large a blunder.
Was this the second mistake? Or the first? I briefly blamed a mind that could no longer even count properly, and kept walking.
The Holy Kingdom in spring was a beautiful street where the trees lining the road scattered petals. The Saintess’s feet followed diligently behind the Hero, treading those petals underfoot.
My legs hurt.
Heal
While I patched my legs with healing and complained about my pathetic stamina, the Hero seemed to notice I had used holy arts; he glanced back for a moment.
What?
I worried for an instant, but he soon faced forward again and kept walking. His pace seemed to have slowed just a little.
Haa… If we just reach the port like this and cross over to the Empire…
My head isn’t working.
Just then a hand appeared right in front of my eyes. Food rested on it, and the owner of the hand was the Hero. I had no idea where he had pulled it from, but a single piece of chocolate sat on his palm.
Before accepting it, the Saintess wrote with paper and fountain pen.
—What is this?—
The Hero smiled as he answered.
"A gift."
The Saintess was someone who felt gratitude even for small things, so I coaxed a faint smile onto my face, placed the chocolate in my mouth, and wrote again.
—Thank you.—
Seeing the words, the Hero lifted the corners of his own mouth slightly and looked ahead once more.
In that moment the Saintess was thinking of nothing at all. She chewed the chocolate melting in her mouth.
Om-nom-nom—
This is… delicious!
For an instant her expression softened into a melting smile, but she was certain no one had seen it and quickly fixed her face again.
The Holy Knight called Jerome watched the scene from beside the Saintess and wore a pleased smile of his own.
⊳ [Hero] Ain
⊳ [Saintess] Theas
⊳ [Holy Knight] Jerome
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