Salvation
My first meeting with Lisa was nothing that could be called pleasant, even as a joke.
As a rule, ordinary guild parties moved solely for the benefit of their own members. In that respect, a Hero’s party was not so different.
Yet a Hero’s party had one fundamental distinction.
At its core, a Hero’s party did not chase money alone.
Even when there was little profit to be made, if something threatened the safety of ordinary people, they threw themselves into the fray without hesitation. That was what it meant to be a Hero’s party.
And so greater honor and renown—and, on occasion, wealth—followed them. The weight of responsibility grew in equal measure. A Hero’s party was therefore compelled to a certain degree of self-sacrifice, and always bound by the duty to remain just.
The Saintess and Stella shared that duty for my sake, as the Hero. Stella, for her part, seemed rather more motivated by the promise of extra pay…
That day we were traveling, as usual, to carry out our regular assignments.
1. Subjugate the monsters threatening carriage traffic in the vicinity of the village.
2. Investigate and report on the abnormal fluctuations in mana quantity detected around the village.
Familiar work, no different from any other day.
“If anything feels off… it’s those abnormal mana readings that have me a little worried.”
It was not unheard of for faint shifts in mana to be caused by nothing more than weather or temperature.
Summer’s coming on. Probably just the rising heat.
As party leader I made that call, and decided that monster subjugation took priority for the village’s safety. Measuring mana levels and writing a report could wait until the others had rested properly. That was my judgment.
“We’ve rested enough. Shall we get moving? It’ll be a problem if the sun goes down on us.”
“Aaron, you worry too much! We could rest a little longer.”
“No. We still have to do the investigation first.”
“Aw, come on…”
Stella fretted like someone worn out by the mission. I had thought we had rested enough; apparently it had not been enough for her. I understood. As a knight she bore the brunt of both mental and physical strain. Our party had no dedicated mage, so the front line’s burden was naturally heavier.
The Saintess smiled gently.
“Lady Stella, even if we rest, it will be more comfortable once the investigation is finished and we can sleep at the village inn. It will be over quickly.”
“If the Saintess says so… fine.”
Stella grumbled in reluctant acceptance.
…
Then Stella shaded her eyes with one hand and stared into the distance, as though she had spotted something strange.
“Huh? Aaron, look at that.”
The Saintess seemed to sense the same wrongness.
“Doesn’t something feel off, Lord Aaron? The mana lamps…”
“You’re right. This village shouldn’t be this dark.”
The place had grown around magic and the magical engineering that used it. It had no business being this dark.
“Wait—you’re right, Aaron! The mana lamps are all out!”
“Something’s wrong. There’s no way every single one would be extinguished…”
And then we witnessed the atrocity.
…
Magic is the supernatural motion produced when refined mana is burned and the resulting magical power is released. Unrefined mana inside the body cannot be used for magic. Under normal circumstances, therefore, the mana within a person never combusts.
An entire village annihilated by overheating mana circuits.
It was a grotesque sight. Only the traces of bodies thrashing in agony and the ash remained. Yet the man-made buildings stood without a single scratch. We were overwhelmed by the uncanny contrast. To our eyes, no life remained that could still be saved.
Stella ground her teeth.
“Aaron, what the hell is this?! Damn it—what happened here…?”
Horror. But we could not simply stand there stunned. We had to search for any possible survivors.
“Look for survivors first! We don’t know what we’re dealing with, so everyone stay sharp!”
“May their souls rest with the Goddess… ugh… All I can offer is prayer…”
Was the expression on the Saintess’s face sorrow, or despair?
“There are times when I feel so powerless as a Saintess…”
“No, Saintess! I’m the one who can’t even properly comfort their souls…”
Stella hurried to console her. Of all the many Saintesses who bore the Church’s name, she was, as far as I knew, the one closest to true “sincerity.” Devout, more empathetic to pain than anyone, she seemed nearest to the ideal of a real Saintess. That was why she had volunteered for the Hero’s party—the group closest to the work of saving people.
Of course none of this carnage was her fault. If fault existed, it lay in my decision to take a long rest after a hard subjugation. And even that—could it truly be called a mistake? I still believed the judgment that monsters posed the greater threat had been correct. There had been more dangerous beasts than expected; we could not simply leave them. It had been a decision made for the village’s safety, with both justification and justice behind it.
No one had been wrong.
Yet she shouldered the responsibility simply because she bore the name of Saintess. The weight of the Goddess’s name that she carried more heavily than anyone—I could never fully grasp what that felt like. All I could do was resolve to stand beside her and support her when she seemed so fragile.
Thinking that, I continued the search.
Somewhere, a faint sound of weeping reached me.
“Stella! Saintess! There’s a survivor near this building! Search the area!”
I tore through every corner like a madman.
And there she was—a young girl. A survivor I had thought impossible to find.
“Aaaah…! Hic… Mother… uuh… Father… uuuh…”
Her parents had already burned from the inside out into ash, and the girl clung to them, writhing in agony.
“Saintess, this child—quickly!!”
“Ah… this is…”
“This is mana combustion! Ordinary healing won’t work!”
“Aaron, then what are we supposed to do?!”
“…It’s all right. If we draw as much mana out of her body as possible… we can at least stop the burning.”
“Is that even possible, Aaron…?”
“He’s right. Lord Aaron, regrettably such a thing is… even so…”
The Saintess’s eyes looked more desperate than usual. Perhaps that was why I attempted something so reckless.
“It’s fine. Trust me. I’m fairly skilled in this area.”
I spoke with confidence. Of course it would not be easy.
A lesson once given by my master.
“You little brat!! When a splendid master like me is speaking, you listen! You insolent whelp!”
“Ow—ow ow ow! Master, that hurts! I was listening!”
“Ohhh? Then explain what a mana circuit is.”
“The… lines that mana… passes through…?”
“Hohoho, you little…”
“Aaaagh, that hurts!!”
“Mana circuits are the source of every sense!! Extremely sensitive, delicate threads that run throughout the body and create sensation—a true mystery!!!”
“How many times have I told you this!!!!!!!!”
Recalling those days with my master made my head throb.
I’m sorry, Master. I should have listened more carefully. Handling mana—the root of all things—was of the utmost importance, she had scolded me again and again while drilling both theory and practice into me. Yet a human’s ability to manipulate mana has its limits. Even with her teachings, this would be difficult. Still, I had to do everything I could.
“Saintess, find the cleanest place you can in this village. Stella, gather as much black cloth as possible!”
“Leave it to me!”
“Understood, Aaron!”
I did everything in my power to save the girl thrashing in pain. Fortunately the Saintess found a clean spot. Stella brought black fabric and we blocked every source of light as thoroughly as we could.
“We need to lay the child down…”
The pain was so severe she could not stay still; she kept thrashing.
“Stella, we have that general-goods bag, right?”
“Yeah! Here!”
I had stocked various medicines for every contingency. I had even prepared hypnotic potions with this sort of use in mind. With the Saintess’s help I carefully mixed the compounds and administered them, putting the girl into a state of paralysis.
“Thank you, Stella, Saintess. I need to concentrate—can you wait outside?”
“Hang in there! Aaron, you’ve got a plan, right?”
“Lord Aaron… if there’s anything I can do to help, please tell me…”
Leaving the Saintess’s worried face behind, I closed the blackout curtain.
…Forcing mana out of someone else’s body was impossible. The only person who could forcibly expel another’s mana was someone on my master’s level. So what could I do?
I would link my own mana circuits to hers. Then I would use my unburned mana to halt her combustion. Of course it was dangerous. My master’s words rose again in my mind.
Mana circuits are the source of every sense… Extremely sensitive, delicate threads that run throughout the body and create sensation.
This was combustion fierce enough to burn the mana inside a body. It might well burn out my own circuits completely and leave me crippled for life.
Even so, I could not refuse. I had to do it.
Why?
Because of a sense of justice that demanded I save the girl before my eyes?
No.
Because I wanted to lighten, even a little, the heavy burden the Saintess carried by saving the girl?
…
In truth it was not for the Saintess’s sake, was it?
Wearing the mask of supporting her piety, her sense of justice, and the guilt she felt, I had been hiding. The one who had been desperate was neither the Saintess nor the knight—it was me.
I had projected myself onto her, and in doing so I had been protecting myself. Hiding behind justice, I rationalized every action as something I had no choice but to do.
The justice of a Hero. The despair of having saved no one from the atrocity.
In the midst of that, the girl’s survival was hope itself to me.
Saving her was my atonement—
and my salvation.