Lest I See You as Monsters
The basement of the cathedral was not a simple structure. Like an anthill, it branched into countless side passages. For Ashtain, who possessed no useful information about the underground levels, this was an unwelcome complication. He would have to check each path one by one. Still, he could sense intuitively which areas mattered. The place where the paladins were swarming. Aria would surely be there. He trusted this instinct completely.
Look. Were those not men actually rushing him right now?
Two paladins charged from the front and side, swords drawn. The fact that they wielded their weapons without hesitation told him they were almost certainly up to something shameful. To them, it probably felt like a threat. But to Ashtain, who had faced every kind of monster imaginable, their movements looked painfully clumsy.
He swung his sheathed sword into the abdomen of the one in front, crushed the skull of the one approaching from the side, and pressed onward. The farther he advanced, the more paladins appeared.
One hand cannot defeat two. Two cannot defeat three. Three cannot defeat four. As if openly denying that universal truth, Ashtain trampled them all—whether one, two, three, or four.
BANG!
A sound too heavy to be called the clash of sword and sheath rang out as one paladin floated through the air. Another paladin stabbed at Ashtain’s exposed back. It must have seemed like the perfect opening.
But the paladin’s eyes widened in shock. Ashtain had pinned his left arm to his side, trapping the incoming blade. With the sword clamped beneath his armpit, Ashtain twisted at the waist and drove his right elbow into the man. The motion flowed like water—smooth, natural, and blindingly fast.
The paladin released his weapon and tried to block the elbow with both hands.
BANG!
Even though he had blocked it, the impact slammed into his brain like a hammer. The paladin crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The remaining paladins stared at Ashtain. His breathing had not even grown ragged. At the sight, they swallowed hard.
The Hero. A blade that could reach even the absolute being known as the Demon King. When he stood as an ally, he felt like a force of ten thousand soldiers. But the Hero as an enemy was…
A monster.
Not merely a monster. He was another Demon King incarnate.
Ashtain said nothing. He simply gazed at them, studying each face one by one. That cold scrutiny sent a chill racing down the paladins’ spines. Despite their superior numbers, none of them could see any path to victory. The difference in strength was simply too overwhelming.
For a brief moment, the paladin formation and Ashtain stood locked in a silent standoff.
“So far,” Ashtain said, “I’ve still been thinking of you as human.”
Thinking of you as human. Did that mean if they were not human, they were monsters?
The paladins could not grasp his meaning. Ashtain had not spoken expecting them to understand. Even so, why say it? The words had been closer to self-hypnosis.
What was a Hero, at its core? An assassin meant to kill the Demon King. Was that not so? The one who infiltrated the enemy’s stronghold and returned with the Demon King’s head was closer to an assassin than a warrior. That was why the Hero’s blade had no choice but to be infinitely sharp.
When facing humans, he dulled that edge somewhat. But even dulled, a masterwork sword remained a masterwork sword. Its sharpness did not easily grow blunt.
Ashtain narrowed his eyes. The men before him were still human, for now. But what would happen after he saw what lay ahead? Would he still be able to call them human then?
“I hope the day never comes when I see you as monsters.”
A smile as cruel as it was icy. The paladins could not utter a single word. The pressure radiating from the man called Ashtain surpassed imagination.
“I won’t repeat myself. Move.”
Of course, these were not men who would obediently step aside. Ashtain shrugged and let out a long breath.
“Stubborn religious fanatics.”
Battle was about momentum. Once you seized the flow, you had to press the advantage without mercy. Ashtain, who had taken the lives of countless monsters, understood this better than anyone. Those who shrank back between life and death would be devoured in an instant.
Hot heart, cold head. A cliché, yes—but clichés became clichés because they were common sense.
Ashtain took a step. The Hero was coming. Alone.
One step. Two steps. On the third step, he vanished.
No—he had not vanished. He had simply arrived directly in front of the paladins. At a speed beyond human perception. An explosive burst of movement that looked as if he had folded space itself.
BANG!
Moving at blinding speed, Ashtain slammed into a paladin like a charging water buffalo. The man’s breastplate crumpled with a sickening crunch as he was launched backward like a cannonball, unable to withstand the tremendous kinetic force.
The unreal sight made the other paladins catch their breath. Ashtain did not pause. Gripping the hilt and middle of his blade, he swung it at the next man.
BANG!
The paladin who took the surprise blow square on flew away like a child swinging a frog by its hind leg before hurling it. He crashed heavily into the floor.
Like a wolf set loose among sheep, Ashtain rampaged in every direction, neutralizing the paladins. Numerical inferiority meant nothing. He displayed overwhelming dominance so absolute the fight resembled an adult twisting a child’s wrist.
Some of the paladins cried out in anguished voices.
“Goddess!”
“Why call for the Goddess? She won’t help you.”
“Urk!”
These were paladins capable of strengthening their bodies through holy spells. Yet that blessing proved meaningless. They could not stop the man called Ashtain.
…Human? Could something like that truly be called human?
Paladins fell like weeds. They could do nothing but be beaten helplessly. Elites who had prided themselves on their skill were crumbling before a single man. Their opponent did not even look winded. If anything, he seemed invigorated.
It made no sense. It was terror. An endless, primal terror of the unknown.
With movements as nimble as a wild beast, Ashtain broke through the path the paladins had blocked. They were powerless to stop him. They possessed neither the strength nor the right to halt the Hero.
“There really are a lot of you,” Ashtain muttered.
An enormous explosion erupted from the center of the clustered paladins. Explosion magic.
BOOOOOOM!
Heat and black smoke shook the entire basement. Had the paladins been in proper formation, they would have responded with holy barriers. But their ranks had already been thrown into chaos by the Hero, and they had never imagined he would use magic. The blast proved devastatingly effective.
Most of the paladins were blasted off their feet. Only a handful remained. They trembled, unable to believe the reality before them.
“M-magic too? H-how…?”
Ashtain answered indifferently.
“I learned it, so I use it. Now will you get out of the way?”
The paladins despaired. This man could not be stopped. Yet they still refused to clear the path.
“Stubbornness has its charm, but a little flexibility would be nice.”
Ashtain knocked down every last one of them and walked on without hurry. It did not take long.
It feels good. So good I forget to breathe. My whole body is burning. My lower belly throbs.
“Huuu…”
Isn’t it strange? It feels this pleasurable, so why does my chest feel like it’s being ripped apart? Is it suffocating? There’s nothing sad happening. This is the same thing that always happens. Is today especially difficult?
“Hik… hik…”
What am I? What was I hoping for? Why did I come back to the cult?
Ah. That’s right. It was for Mr. Ashtain. I did it because I wanted to make things a little easier for him.
But why does my heart hurt so much? It feels good, yet my heart aches terribly. Strange, isn’t it? Those two feelings shouldn’t be able to coexist.
I thought about it. In the end, all of this happened because I clung to a vain hope.
Mr. Ashtain. I must have become strange for a while because of you, right? I probably lost my grip on reality.
It’s only natural that nothing changes. So why did I believe I could change anything?
That was clearly nothing more than a futile dream. Dirty things should remain dirty in the end.
Cardinal Mavlof removes my holy garment. I quietly watch him. He will make me feel good. Yes. All I have to do is pant. All I have to do is cry. All I have to do is obediently surrender my body. That is all I can do.
Resistance is meaningless. Rebellion is meaningless. That is the natural order. Isn’t that right, Goddess?
If I stay quiet, it will definitely… definitely feel good.
That was when the door shattered.
With a thunderous crash, dust flew everywhere. And then I saw you.
You, with your navy-blue hair and eyes as black as the night sky.
Mr. Ashtain. How did you find this place? Have you already passed the Holy Sword trial? Isn’t that too fast? Or is this another surprise Bishop Ronin prepared?
I tried to open my mouth.
“Aria.”
You spoke first. Your voice was ice-cold. My body froze at the sound.
After Makarof’s follower saw me like this, now even you… My mind feels like it’s burning white with agony. The pleasure vanishes completely.
I hate it. I hate it. You must despise me for letting my body be used like this, don’t you?
Suddenly I realized my hands were shaking. Is it because I’m cold? Yes, that must be it. I’m naked, after all.
“Aria.”
You call my name again. The sound terrifies me to the marrow. It feels like a cold blade sliding deep into my heart—chilling, painful.
I pretend I cannot hear you.
The others are shouting. How did you get in here? What happened to the paladins outside? But you give no answers. You only look at me. That terrifies me most of all.
At last you speak.
“What do you want me to do?”
The words hit me like a blow to the head. I go blank.
Why are you asking me that? Why don’t you question what you’re seeing? Why aren’t you angry? Why aren’t you calling me a filthy whore?
Why? Why? Why?
“Tell me.”
After that, you close your mouth and say nothing more.
My chest tightens. Is it all right to speak this feeling? Won’t it just be crushed again? Fear rises in my throat. This choice is too difficult for me.
“I-I’m sorry…”
You smile, bright and clear.
“Don’t apologize. What do you want me to do for you?”
“…Pardon?”
“Tell me your true feelings.”
Your words. Your eyes. Your actions. How can they be so reassuring?
I bite my lip. My face twists horribly. As if my tear ducts have broken, hot tears spill down my cheeks. I must look hideous. I know I do.
Is it really all right to say it? You won’t scold me? It’s okay, isn’t it?
Because you are unshakable. Because you always remain calm. You will accept even this heart without wavering, won’t you?
Just as you wished, I spoke my true feelings.
“…Please save me.”
You smile. It is the same gentle smile as always.
“Understood.”