The Guidance of Faith (1)

"…May you find eternal rest."

The hands of Marina Bergard, Grand Saintess of the religious nation of Serion, trembled violently. Before her eyes lay a set of carefully arranged human remains.

The pure white skeleton bore scars here and there, as though it had been poorly maintained or subjected to a severe impact during transport. Beside it, a suit of silver armor had been neatly laid out—proof that the remains' owner had been a holy knight of Serion.

"…These are the remains of Priest Donovan, who was murdered by the Progenitor Vampire in Elmaile and then resurrected as an undead. The mana has fully dissipated now, and he has returned to an ordinary corpse."

Though Marina had asked no questions, the woman standing behind her—Isabella Morden, Chief Saintess of Serion—offered an explanation of the bleached bones of her own accord.

"…"

Hearing this, Marina forced her shaking hands still and reached toward the remains of the devout priest and holy knight Donovan.

It was not a task she welcomed, but to confirm the Progenitor Vampire's involvement with greater certainty—and to grasp the full circumstances—she had no choice but to examine the residual mana wavelength still clinging to these bones.

"Hoo…"

She exhaled a deep breath and took hold of the corpse's femur. Through it, she felt a human mana that, by all rights, should never have remained.

"This is…"

What reached her fingertips was a mana deep and dark as the abyss itself. The mere contact was repulsive; in an instant it bored into Marina's heart and began to corrode her sacred power.

"…!!"

A mana vast even in scale clamped down around her heart. Cold sweat burst from every pore of her body, and every sense sharpened to a razor's edge. Light flashed before her eyes; her muscles convulsed, her hands and feet twisting grotesquely. Then came a crushing wave of nausea.

"U-ugh, uwaaaaagh…"

In the end, Marina emptied the entire contents of her stomach. As the hair-raising black vomit spilled out, her convulsing body finally began to settle. At the same time, she felt the dark mana that had been eroding her gradually fade away.

"Gahk, cough, cough…"

"G-Grand Saintess! Are you all right?!"

Chief Saintess Isabella rushed to support Marina, who had collapsed to the floor. Her anxious voice echoed through the empty cathedral. Marina waved a hand to signal that she was fine.

"I-I'm all right…"

Once she felt her body's rhythm roughly restored, Marina gripped a nearby chair and pulled herself upright, finding her balance. She looked down at the holy knight's remains with an expression of pure contempt.

There's no doubt…

The most vicious, most catastrophic corrupted mana imaginable—power that might well have killed an ordinary person on contact. A forbidden force vast and dark enough to raise the dead as one's own slaves.

This was not the mana of an ordinary necromancer.

It was the mana of something that stood far beyond any necromancer.

And in the memories of Marina—who, as a fallen angel, had lived more than a thousand years upon the earth—there was only one being who had ever possessed such insane power.

"Elzerva…"

A thousand years ago, for reasons of her own, a vampire had assassinated the princess of the Abilia Kingdom. Elzerva. Only she—who had faced nearly a hundred thousand troops alone—could have wielded mana like this.

"So she has awakened after all…"

Having risked her life to analyze the residual mana wavelength in the corpse, Marina was certain. Judging by its quality and concentration, Elzerva had not lost her power through the long sealing. She was clearly at peak condition, in full possession of her complete strength.

"…The calamity has been unleashed at last."

Elzerva—who had shattered a sealing vessel crafted by none other than Astira, the Goddess of Heaven and Earth whom they themselves worshipped.

An unprecedented vampire who could never have been captured without the betrayal of the elf who now served as Prime Minister of the Abilia Kingdom, and without the support of the ancient eastern shamans whose line had long since died out.

Whatever the reason, the unwelcome news that this calamity had been set free made Grand Saintess Marina shudder.

"…Whether from rage or something else, she has already annihilated two cities of the Abilia Kingdom, including the royal capital."

"…I suppose that stands to reason."

Marina let out a deep sigh at the Chief Saintess's report.

Sealed away for a thousand years—there was no way she would be in a good mood. Whether she was even capable of rational judgment was an open question. A thousand years ago she had possessed intelligence equal to any human's; Marina could only worry that she might now have become little more than a mindless monster, beyond even the barest negotiation.

Chief Saintess Isabella continued her report with calm composure.

"…Accordingly, the Prime Minister of Abilia has already requested our aid. She says the need is desperate."

"The Prime Minister…"

The Prime Minister of the Abilia Kingdom.

The elf who had sealed Elzerva alongside Marina a thousand years ago—and the very spy who had deceived her. Lilianel Greenfield.

Whatever wrongs Elzerva might have committed, she would almost certainly make Lilianel—the one who had betrayed her—her first target. The woman must be so anxious she could scarcely sleep.

Just before Elzerva was fully sealed, she had even left word that if she ever awoke, Lilianel would be the first she sought out. Gathering forces capable of opposing that vampire would be the Prime Minister's most urgent priority.

And among those forces, the aid of Serion—the religious nation that stood foremost on the continent against monsters—would be indispensable.

After all, a thousand years ago, it had been Marina herself, arriving from Serion, who had delivered the decisive blow that sealed Elzerva.

"Grand Saintess, what shall we do?"

"…"

But when the Chief Saintess asked whether they would send support, Marina Bergard—the highest authority in Serion—simply closed her eyes in silence.

…Can that elf truly win?

Many thoughts crowded her mind.

Even with Serion's help, could the Abilia Kingdom truly prevail against Elzerva?

A thousand years ago, heaven's fortune had stacked in their favor, along with support from the shaman nation of Tenma and the one-of-a-kind sealing vessel of the Goddess. Now, not a single one of those advantages remained.

Moreover, the Abilia Kingdom's military strength had not advanced at all—if anything, it had stagnated or even regressed compared to a thousand years prior.

…Lilianel. You never imagined a day like this would come, did you?

Lilianel, who had forcibly suppressed the kingdom's development out of fear of rapid "change," and the Hero who served at her side.

Over the past thousand years, consumed by nothing but wealth and power, the sealing of Elzerva must have long since faded into the recesses of their memory.

And yet, having lived that way, they had not suddenly gained the strength to stop Elzerva now. No matter how hard they fought, Abilia's future remained uncertain.

Perhaps this was simply the price of ignoring the counsel Marina had given a thousand years ago—counsel offered even at the cost of breaking Serion's law of non-interference in foreign politics—counsel that Lilianel and the Hero had dismissed.

"I told them as much…"

Marina heaved a heavy sigh.

To dare defy the laws of nature—there was no god in the heavens who would look kindly upon that.

So long as Lilianel Greenfield and the Hero remained in the kingdom, they could hardly expect the grace or aid of the Earth-Heaven Goddess Astira.

Even if they brought out "that thing" they had been secretly hiding, whether it could reverse the outcome was far from certain.

"…"

But Serion and Marina Bergard were different. They were nothing like the Abilia Kingdom and its Prime Minister.

Serion had always kept the words "nothing is eternal" close to heart, and from that day a thousand years ago had continuously prepared for the possibility that such a day would come.

As a religious nation charged with battling monsters, they had honed their holy magic, endlessly deepened their faith to receive the blessing of the Goddess Astira, and ceaselessly expanded their flock of believers.

After hardship comes the light.

…As a result, five hundred years ago, Serion had been granted a single oracle.

The will of the Goddess, transmitted from the heavens—a power that could purify every evil and every monster upon the earth.

"…Isabella. How long remains until 'that'?"

"Hmm… roughly two months still."

"Two months. Understood."

The fulfillment of the oracle—perhaps the greatest key that could allow them to deal with Elzerva.

Two months still remained until then.

Once the oracle was fulfilled, and with the holy magic they had accumulated over a thousand years, defeating that unprecedented vampire would not be a mere dream.

"Isabella. Lead the holy knights and go support Abilia."

…And so, the Abilia Kingdom could not be allowed to fall just yet.

If they were destroyed, Elzerva's next target would be Serion itself.

Two months remained until the oracle's fulfillment. Until then, Abilia had to hold on somehow and serve as their shield.

"…As you command, Grand Saintess."

At the order to support the Abilia Kingdom, the Chief Saintess bowed her head.

"I shall depart at once. May the blessing of Lady Astira be upon Serion."

"…May Her blessing be upon us."

Having decided to send aid, there was nothing to gain by delaying. Chief Saintess Isabella immediately left the cathedral to organize the support force.

Now only Marina remained alone in Serion's central cathedral.

"…"

She drew a small gospel from her robes and opened it to the first page.

There, written, was the Goddess's oracle delivered five hundred years ago—the appointed time she had so long awaited, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chance to reattach her "angel's wings."

It would also be the day she could show that arrogant, insolent vampire—who had never known defeat—what true power really was.

Marina Bergard, the angel cast down from the celestial realm fifteen hundred years ago for reasons of her own, and Grand Saintess of Serion, quietly closed her eyes and offered a prayer to the Goddess she believed in.

"…May the blessing of Lady Astira be upon all things."

…Before long, the hour of the holy war would arrive.

"…May the blessing of Lady Astira be upon all things."

In the small territory of Rieli, a day and a half's journey from the royal capital, its lord—Chris Evergrit—offered his earnest prayers at the cathedral once again today.

Ever since an orc army had suddenly invaded twenty years ago and nearly destroyed the territory, he had prayed without fail, not missing a single day, to the Earth-Heaven Goddess Astira, who stood as the antithesis of all monsters.

That monsters would never invade again.

That even if they did, he would be able to overcome them safely.

That today, too, would pass in peace and safety.

"…"

At first it had been a light prayer begun at a friend's suggestion, but it had long since become an indispensable part of his daily routine—a pillar of his ordinary life.

The psychological stability gained through heartfelt prayer and confession.

Skipping even a single day left him anxious.

Dad! If you're going to be like that, why don't you just go live in Serion?

Suddenly he recalled the teasing words his second daughter had once thrown at him.

Judith Evergrit—who had now been gloriously chosen as a companion of the Hero and was locked in fierce battle against the demon race. The thought of her, the daughter he would not trade for the world, the pride of this insignificant territory, brought a smile to Chris's lips.

"Spending my later years in Serion… well…"

As Judith had said, spending his retirement years on pilgrimage didn't seem like such a bad idea.

…And for that happy old age to come, he would have to do his utmost to be a father his daughters need not be ashamed of, and an excellent lord.

"…I should be getting up."

Chris offered his respects to the priest and left the cathedral dedicated to Astira. He had prayed for so long that the shadows of sunset were already falling outside.

"Hoo…"

Stepping out into his territory, Chris let out a deep sigh.

Despite the long prayer, his heart remained restless and unsettled.

The Progenitor Vampire who had annihilated Elmaile and the royal capital. The knowledge that such a legendary monster was right near his territory—and that he himself had refused to cooperate with that monster—continued to leave a sour taste in his mouth.

Even though he had hurriedly shut down the Teleportation Hub at the thunderbolt news that had arrived two days ago, the capital and this place were only a day's ride by horse. If the vampire set her mind to it, she could destroy this place at any moment.

He had considered bowing his head to that monster, but a creature that slaughtered people indiscriminately seemed unlikely to spare him just because he knelt.

More than anything, as the father of Judith Evergrit—companion of the Hero—and as the lord of Rieli who had sworn never again to kneel before a monster, he could not submit to that vampire.

— You must never submit to a mere monster!

— No cooperation either!

— Even if we die, we have to fight!

— The Hero and Lady Judith will surely help us! We must protect our territory!

— The Goddess will watch over us!

"…"

Moreover, when he had asked the people of the territory for their opinions yesterday, they had felt the same as he did. Rieli would have nothing further to do with that vampire.

…Better to die righteously than join hands with evil—that was the will of them all.

"If only the evacuation would finish soon…"

But if it came to a final stand against that monster, there was no chance of victory for a territory this small.

So yesterday he had begun evacuating the elderly and the weak to a quiet nearby village that would not catch the vampire's eye. If at least that could be completed, Chris felt his heart might ease a little.

"…"

The rest was simply doing what they could—strengthening the watch, setting traps, raising barricades, stockpiling supplies. All that remained was to pray that the vampire would take no interest in this small city.

…It was as he was returning home, burdened with these many worries and anxieties, toward the residence at the center of the territory, that it happened.

"M-My lord!!"

"Hm?"

"It's an emergency!"

From far off, a soldier in chain mail came running.

A middle-aged man with a shaggy appearance, his bangs covering his eyes.

None other than the territory's captain of the guard, Edmund.

"…What is it?"

Chris asked the clearly agitated Edmund. The captain of the guard, sweating profusely, answered in urgent haste.

"A m-monster! A monster has invaded!"

"What?!"

At that news, Chris's heart plummeted. He seized Edmund by the collar and shouted.

"A monster?! What kind of monster—is it that Progenitor Vampire?!"

A monster had invaded?

Could it be the Progenitor Vampire?

This quickly?

Had refusing to cooperate been the fatal mistake after all?

They still had no reinforcements, and not a scrap of information about that monster—

What was he supposed to do?

…He had steeled himself to accept even the destruction of the territory, but the moment he heard of a monster's invasion, a long-forgotten terror coiled around Chris's entire body.

"W-Well…"

But Edmund's next report eased Chris's heart somewhat. The captain's rough voice reached him.

"It's not the vampire. A single undead specimen has appeared near the walls."

"A-A single undead specimen…?"

At those words, Chris's tension drained away all at once.

A single undead specimen—wasn't that just one zombie?

Even an untrained civilian could kill a zombie. He had worried for nothing.

"For heaven's sake, handle something like a zombie with a little initiative!"

Even given the circumstances, Chris snapped at the captain of the guard for reporting every single zombie intrusion.

"W-Well, it doesn't look like an ordinary zombie, you see."

Edmund waved his hands and continued his report.

"It's wearing a clean maid uniform and carrying a massive greatsword on its back. It may look like a zombie, but judging by its equipment alone, it doesn't seem like a normal monster."

"A maid uniform and a greatsword?"

Chris furrowed his brow.

The maid uniform itself was not particularly concerning—some maid somewhere might simply have become a zombie. What snagged on Chris's nerves was the weapon: a greatsword.

A greatsword? Have there ever been zombies that use weapons?

Ordinary zombies, resurrected as corpses, lost their sense of self and acted purely on instinct. Chris had lived as an adventurer in his youth, and while skeletons might wield weapons, he had never once heard of a "zombie" that did.

"At any rate, it appears to be a rather special specimen. My lord, you should take a look yourself."

"…Very well."

At Edmund's added words—"rather special"—Chris nodded.

A maid zombie that used a greatsword, appearing out of nowhere.

He could not simply assume that the appearance of such an unusual specimen, one never seen in ordinary times, was unrelated to the Progenitor Vampire—currently the greatest threat to Rieli.

…As long as he sat in the position of lord, anything that might threaten the territory had to be confirmed with his own two eyes, no matter what it was.

"Let's go at once."

Chris followed after Edmund.

"That's the zombie!"

When they arrived at the walls that safely enclosed the territory, a zombie in a maid uniform truly came into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠view. Wearing an elegant maid outfit with a massive greatsword strapped to her back, the zombie was scanning their walls from place to place.

Seeing her, Chris narrowed his brow.

Is that truly a zombie…?

Clothes and skin far too clean for a zombie.

A cute appearance, slender hands and feet.

And behavior that seemed almost intelligent, as though she were searching for something.

Aside from the bluish tint of her skin, she looked far closer to a human girl than to a mindless zombie.

…And that made her all the more unsettling.

A zombie that imitates a human…

Between that impossible contradiction he felt a sense of dissonance, and with it a rising revulsion. Whether or not this specimen was connected to the Progenitor Vampire, it was a monster that seemed best not left alone.

Chris shouted to the soldiers on the wall.

"What are you doing?! Drive that monster off at once!"

…In Rieli, which had already nearly been destroyed once, there was no mercy for monsters. At Chris's firm command, the soldiers all drew back the strings of their bows as one. Dozens of sharp arrowheads turned toward the maid zombie.

"Ah?"

Whether she had noticed or not, the zombie looked their way and tilted her head. A chill ran down their spines at the red glow of her eyes sweeping over them, but Chris gave the signal to fire without hesitation.

"We will not allow monsters into our territory! Fire! Turn her into a pincushion!"

Just as they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠always had against monsters that prowled near their land, the soldiers of Rieli loosed countless arrows at the zombie maid.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.

With the sound of wind being cut, dozens of sharp arrows streaked toward the zombie before the walls. All that remained was for her to become a hedgehog and return to being an unmoving corpse.

"Hmph."

"…!!"

But the zombie merely looked at the incoming arrows and snorted. Then came a metallic rasp—ssrrrng—as she drew her enormous greatsword.

"Hup!"

She swung that hideous greatsword forward with all her strength. What followed was a tremendous blast of wind pressure that reached even Chris atop the wall.

"Guh…?!"

— Waaaaah?!

— Everyone hold on! Don't fall!

In the overwhelming wind she generated from the tip of her blade, Chris and the soldiers staggered, and the arrows aimed at her lost all force and balance, scattering in every direction.

…At least fifty arrows, every last one of them, had been deflected.

With a single swing of her sword.

"W-What kind of absurd…"

Chris's expression hardened at the impossible sight.

How could a mere zombie wield a greatsword?

And how on earth could she deflect every arrow with wind pressure alone?

…His thoughts began to twist.

"Hey, human."

"…!!"

Then a voice of pure, bone-chilling dread rose from the base of the wall. He had half expected it—but the maid zombie was looking up at them and actually speaking.

She was using human language. A person's language.

A monster.

A zombie, no less.

"I-Impossible—how can it speak like a person…"

Faced with one shocking scene after another, the strength drained from Chris's legs. The expressions of the soldiers around him were no different from his own. Every face said the same thing: they could not believe what they were seeing.

…The maid zombie below the wall raised her greatsword and spoke to Chris and the soldiers of Rieli.

"…Just so we're clear, you attacked first."

"W-What…"

It was only a single sentence, yet an indescribable chill and terror coiled around Chris's heart. Was this what it felt like to stand before a predator? What they faced was clearly nothing more than a low-tier monster—a "zombie"—and yet every instinct of his five senses was screaming.

Run.

"W-What in the world is that…"

A zombie ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that spoke human language, wielded a greatsword, and possessed the martial power to deflect dozens of arrows in a single stroke.

And at the same time, a charisma that overwhelmed everything.

…Chris Evergrit, lord of Rieli, followed the zombie with his golden eyes as she slowly approached the gate, and muttered blankly to himself.

"What… what on earth is that thing…"

Whatever it was, it was not a monster that looked like good news.