Night in the Imperial Capital — 1
At last, late as it was, night settled over the city.
The place had not earned the name of port city for nothing. Crowds thronged the marketplace in numbers that could have belonged to a true metropolis, and the press of people made the claim feel more than justified.
Having already bought provisions enough to leave them comfortable for some time, the Saintess and the Hero returned to their room — and an awkward current hung in the air between them.
Not a single word had passed from one to the other while they shopped, and that silence only seemed to thicken the tension further.
It was the Hero who spoke first.
"Aren't you tired?"
-I'm fine.-
Her face did not so much as flicker as she denied it. Watching her, he might as well have been looking at a statue carved in the likeness of a goddess.
Reading her expression was nearly impossible, and so he could not tell whether she was truly all right.
What rose instead was a faint suspicion.
She had always lied to him. Even on the brink of death she would tell him she was fine, offering the words so casually that he let himself be reassured — and he had believed her.
Only now did he understand how foolish that trust had been.
He had seen it for himself: from their first meeting onward she had hidden a condition so severe she coughed blood, and still she had walked the long road at his side.
He resolved that from now on he would watch over her without fail, and steeled himself to spend the night wide awake.
Why has he been staring at me this whole time?
His eyes were bloodshot again from the fatigue piled up in his body — so much that the healing I'd given him for looking sleep-deprived might as well never have happened. It didn't suit his face at all.
He looked like a pitiful puppy, and I briefly wondered whether I should heal him one more time. Then I worried the puppy might pick up bad habits, and dropped the idea.
Looking at a person like a dog… that might be rude of me.
I almost laughed again.
I personally really hate this kind of awkward atmosphere.
A few words exchanged, then the silence starts over — that mood where neither person can easily speak up.
We're a man and a woman spending the night in the same room. Is there really that little to talk about?
If you're going to be like that, you might as well switch genders with me!
By the way, this inn only has one bed too.
Unlike the cabin on the ship, it was wide enough for two people to lie down comfortably — which was exactly the problem.
You can't make one of us sleep on the floor like that.
Hogging a two-person space all to yourself… even shamelessness has its limits.
My conscience poked at me, asking whether sharing a bed wouldn't be fine.
All right then. I, whose heart is more manly than anyone's, shall grant permission!
…Something about that feels off.
Moving on.
Anyway, night had fallen, so it was time to lie down.
This frail body still creaked and threatened me into resting.
Fine. I get it. Stop poking me already.
I still don't really understand what being a Superhuman is supposed to mean.
If I used physical enhancement all the time, I wouldn't be able to control my strength properly — but without it, I felt like I'd lose an arm-wrestling match to someone's grandmother.
Anyway, I moved to the bed first.
My legs felt like they might tremble as I walked, but thankfully I didn't make that kind of spectacle.
Once I got there, I keenly felt how much buying provisions all day had strained this body.
I was pretty sure the plan had been to pick up a few potions and items…
I checked the knife in my bosom for no particular reason.
I didn't put my hand in, of course.
I knew that doing something suspicious would be stupid.
Just being aware of its presence was enough.
The nun's habit had more hiding places than expected, and the small leather travel bag could hold all sorts of things.
Anyway, the penalty I needed to watch for right now was this —
A system penalty that forces the host to self-harm in order to lower the Erosion Rate.
— but lately it had barely activated at all.
I knew that the more you give in to the compulsion, the faster the next penalty arrives, and that path leads only to ruin.
Even if a penalty came, I planned to endure it somehow.
I tried to lie down, but the Hero was still sitting in the chair, glancing over at me.
I'd known he had a somewhat shady side ever since he told that transparent lie about there only being two cabins on the ship — but having his gaze sweep over me directly felt strangely… not bad.
…Yeah. Better hold onto my sanity.
I don't care about some guy's gaze.
All right. Regaining my composure, I got onto the bed and started thinking.
Was the Hero planning to sleep on the floor again tonight?
Hmm. That seemed a bit pitiful.
I wrote on the paper.
-It's fine if we lie down together.-
When I held it up for him to see, his face seemed to flush just a little.
A grown maiden showing something like that to a man who wasn't her husband — of course she couldn't keep her composure.
How embarrassing.
He seemed to have read it, but his reaction wasn't what I'd expected.
You know the kind — face turning red! Getting flustered! Telling me not to show him things like that so casually!
His reaction was so bland that being embarrassed all by myself made me even more embarrassed.
I want to hide.
He just kept repeating the same answer with a questioning look, like a robot.
"Will you be all right?"
Do you have any idea how many times you've said that already?!
I was starting to get a little annoyed.
I quickly wrote again.
-Yes.-
Taking that as consent, he went around putting out the candles one by one — the only lights in the room.
Even in a world where magic was so advanced, I didn't know why they insisted on candles, but honestly, it stirred a sense of romance.
There's something romantic about it, right?
Thinking those silly thoughts, I lay down and closed my eyes.
Just lying stiffly, staring blankly at the ceiling and counting stains was terribly boring.
The Hero turned his back to me and seemed to fall asleep on his side.
His lack of reaction was a little disappointing.
And contrary to my expectations, nothing happened at all. I simply drifted off to sleep — and morning came.
What is this?! Has his libido been castrated or something?
Hmm. That hypothesis actually made sense.
It wasn't that love routes didn't exist in the game, but the developers had clearly worked hard for a 15+ rating — so "those kinds of depictions" simply weren't there.
…Is this right?
Expectations? Expectations? I shouldn't be expecting anything.
Has my personality already started changing?
It hasn't even been a week!
Ah. My head hurts.
Anyway, the morning sunlight greeted me the same as always.
Only I was changing, while everything else stayed the same — a strange sense of disconnect.
No matter how I thought about it, the fact that I was an outsider in this world would never change.
…It's irritating.
I just feel like smashing whatever's in front of me.
But I shouldn't do that.
I'm the Saintess, after all.
I'm the Saintess…
Something felt off. I just didn't want to think about it.
Ah. I want to just lie around doing nothing like a NEET.
Everything's become such a hassle.
The Hero must have gotten up first — he was already gone from the room.
Hmm. Should I head out too?
I opened the creaking door and stepped into the inn's hallway.
The first person I locked eyes with was Jerome.
His blond hair and blue eyes were the classic Western look I knew, stirring a strangely familiar nostalgia.
Jerome bowed awkwardly in greeting, so I returned it.
-Good morning.-
"Ah — yes."
Still an awkward reply.
But it was satisfying enough, so I brought him along downstairs.
The first floor, which had been empty when we checked in yesterday morning, was now bustling with people.
Apparently the problem was that we'd arrived at the inn a bit past mealtime.
This might be a more popular inn than I thought.
I wondered when the Hero had gathered this kind of local information.
After a simple breakfast, I couldn't help but be disappointed.
The Hero told me to wait a moment, then came back pulling an ornate carriage — without any horses. That was the problem.
In a medieval fantasy, the romance is a clattering horse-drawn carriage!
Even in the game, nothing like this had appeared as a means of transport, so the shock was even greater.
Inside, the Hero had planted the Holy Sword and was continuously pouring starlight into it.
His already tired appearance looked even more exhausted.
Don't tell me he lost sleep again because he slept with me.
So he really is a man after all!
The Saintess had no idea that the Hero had stayed awake all night watching over her — checking whether her health was failing, whether she might sneak out into the night.