The One Who Failed to Protect (2)
The uneasy premonition had not been wrong.
The Saintess Elise, of whom rumors abounded, really was the Ellie Kallen had known.
It was the reunion he had ached for more than anything—and yet what seized Kallen was not joy or relief, only an unfamiliar, strange sense of distance.
For one thing, Ellie's appearance itself had changed.
Her reddish-brown hair, plain and unremarkable and so much lovelier for it, had somehow been dyed a white as pale as fresh snow.
Her green eyes, once as fresh as spring seedlings, now held nothing but a golden radiance so brilliant it felt almost reverent.
Ellie, dressed not in her usual worn and faded dress but in a gown embroidered with gold thread and lavish ornamentation, was buried in the embrace of someone who was not Kallen.
And that someone being Noel of Aramis—the man who had usurped every scrap of Kallen's glory—was a catastrophe that needed no further explanation.
"Ah…?"
Long after the triumphal ceremony had ended, Kallen still swayed where he stood, his eyes unfocused.
Surrounded by so vast a crowd, he felt nothing but a desolate loneliness, as if he were the only person left in the world.
"…Ah."
A pain pierced deep in his chest, and without thinking he clutched at his breast.
The image of Ellie and Noel exchanging tender gazes, sweet as dripping honey, clung viciously to his mind and would not let go.
Something had gone wrong—very, very badly wrong.
All Kallen felt now was the impulse to dispel this swelling anxiety as quickly as he possibly could.
He staggered and barely steadied himself on his feet.
Then, dragging his halting steps, he soon vanished beyond an alley.
Paladins in gleaming white armor stood in solemn guard on either side of a magnificent gate adorned in gold and ivory.
So formidable was their presence that the crowds dared not press near—but Kallen, utterly indifferent to it all, walked doggedly toward the gate.
Seeing him approach, one of the paladins stepped forward to block his path and spoke in a threatening tone.
"Turn back. This is where Her Holiness the Saintess resides. It is no place for anyone to come and go as they please."
Even faced with that icy warning, Kallen simply looked at him calmly and spoke.
"I have business here."
"What business?"
"I must see Ellie."
"El…?"
The paladin frowned for a moment in puzzlement at Kallen's words, then quickly twisted his face into a snarl.
"You there! How dare a gutter beggar like you utter Her Holiness's name so carelessly! Get lost before I take your head for blasphemy!"
"I said I must see Ellie."
"Why, this little…!!"
The paladin swung his spear haft, fully intending to thrash the presumptuous intruder soundly.
But Kallen didn't so much as flinch—and when he caught the descending spear shaft in one hand, the man's eyes flooded with shock for an instant.
"Th-this…!"
The paladin blocking his way was no longer any concern of his. Kallen glanced briefly at the man twisting and straining against his grip, then murmured in a voice tinged with impatience and buried indignation.
"Step aside before you get hurt. Last warning."
"This bastard!! How dare you!!"
Unable to simply watch, another paladin drew his sword and brought it down on Kallen from behind. Still gripping the spear shaft, Kallen merely tilted his body slightly, letting the blow slide past.
Riding the momentum, he twisted his upper body and drove a clenched fist straight into the paladin's abdomen.
"Ughk…"
A resounding crash, and a cloud of dust billowed up.
The paladin slammed into the wall, managed only a faint groan, and crumpled to the ground on the spot.
And when another saw his comrade's thick plate armor crumpled like parchment, he turned pale and desperately blew an emergency whistle.
"Heretic!! There's a heretic after Her Holiness!!"
At the signal, the paladins swarmed out in an instant, murderous intent boiling, and encircled Kallen in a tight ring.
Facing dozens of these warriors sworn to salvation—each one a match for a hundred men—all alone, his spirit still simmered, quiet and steady.
No words were exchanged. The air hung thick and lethal.
And just as the paladins flinched at the sight of Kallen settling once more into a charging stance—
the mansion's great gate swung open, and a clear, elegant voice rang out.
"Stand down."
It was a voice far too familiar to Kallen.
He turned his head toward its source, and in that instant every ounce of his fighting spirit drained away. He could only stare, wide-eyed.
The lover he had dreamed of night after night.
The last precious person he had left in the world.
"Sheathe your swords. Now."
The Ellie he had longed for so desperately was walking straight toward him.
"Your Holiness! It's dangerous here! Please, inside—"
"I believe I told you plainly to stand down."
The paladins cried out in shock at the sight of Ellie appearing in person, but she only rebuked them in a stern, dignified voice.
"Or is it that my words mean so little to the gentlemen assembled here?"
"Ugh…"
Before Ellie's icy pressing, the paladins lost their will to fight just as Kallen had.
After a moment's hesitation, they lowered their weapons entirely and withdrew to a distance as instructed.
And to Kallen, all of it felt nothing short of alien.
Ellie scolding them with stern dignity without raising her voice or cursing, as she once would have. The paladins obeying her like limbs of her own body.
All of it.
"Come inside. We'll talk in there."
Only after everything had been settled did Ellie turn back to Kallen and give a small smile.
Kallen limped along in silence behind Ellie, who walked ahead without a word.
The girl who had always tucked herself affectionately into the crook of his arm now strode on far ahead without so much as a glance back.
Only when they reached a parlor lavishly decorated with exotic plants were they finally able to sit facing one another.
It was Ellie who broke the heavy silence that stretched on and on.
"It's been a while."
"…Yeah."
Kallen forced out the words as if wringing water from a stone. Ellie gave a soft laugh at the sight of him sitting there, stiff and awkward.
"What's with that voice? Aren't you happy to see me?"
It was her usual teasing tone, but Kallen remained frozen in place.
There were far too many things he wanted to ask.
What had happened after he lost consciousness.
Why on earth her hair and eyes had become what they were.
How she had come to be the Saintess.
…Why, though she was alive and well, she had left him all alone in that place, Belote.
And… what exactly she was to Noel.
"Happy… to see you. Of course."
But all Kallen could manage was a dazed nod.
Ellie's attempt to force a bright mood sank quietly back into stillness.
It felt as though an invisible wall, thick and unyielding, had risen between two people who had once been as close as one flesh.
At last suppressing the breath that burned hot in his chest, Kallen threw out his question in a cracked, rasping voice.
"I never… would have imagined that Saintess Elise was you."
"You heard the rumors, huh? I was pretty surprised at first myself."
"Wh-what happened…?"
"Remember what I told you once before? About how in my dreams I was wrapped in a bright light and heard a strange voice."
Ellie took a calm sip of her tea, savored it, and continued slowly.
"They say that's one of the signs of an apostle's awakening. That's why my hair and eye color changed too. Proof that I've been chosen by a god, or something like that…"
"Is that how it happened…?"
"Mm. The priests from the Church of Aten's main chapter verified it for me. Amazing, right? I don't remember ever living all that devout a life."
Ellie heaved an exaggerated sigh, then broke into a wide smile.
"I guess this is what they call destiny."
"…"
"Honestly, it's not quite as wonderful as it sounds. There's all sorts of etiquette I have to memorize, and I have to put on this tiresome airs now and then. Well, I've more or less adapted by now. What do you think? Doesn't this dress suit me pretty well?"
Ellie lifted and turned her ornately decorated sleeves, showing them off to Kallen with something like pride.
Even that innocent display felt, somehow, like needles pricking at Kallen's heart.
And unable to bear it any longer, Kallen finally forced out the reason he had come looking for Ellie.
"…I saw you. In the street, earlier."
"…"
For the first time, the ever-composed Ellie flinched.
Like a child caught doing something wrong, she avoided Kallen's gaze—but even that lasted only the barest instant.
Recovering her expression as if nothing had happened, Ellie nodded and replied with perfect nonchalance.
"Yes. And?"
"…"
Some violently surging emotion rose in Kallen, and he found himself gritting his teeth.
"That… the man called Noel, you two seemed pretty close, so…"
Kallen fought desperately to steady himself and forced out the words in a voice that barely crawled out of his throat.
"Th-that man, they say his personality is worse than you'd think… arrogant, and… d-did he threaten you? Or were you forced into it against your will…"
Perhaps there was some circumstance beyond her control.
He clung to the grumbling of a middle-aged woman at a general goods store he'd passed long ago, holding it like a thread of hope.
"Ahh, you mean Noel?"
But Ellie's voice as she spoke of him was brimming with nothing but warmth and familiarity.
In that instant, Kallen bitterly regretted ever raising the subject.
"We're more than close."
The spilled water could never be gathered again—
"We're lovers. We've promised each other a future, as man and woman."
"…"
At Ellie's answer, Kallen's hands clenched into fists.
He was trembling so violently that a faint vibration could be felt even across the tabletop.
Something like a dull, aching pain—neither rage nor sorrow—kept gnawing at the inside of Kallen's skull.
Gasping for breath, Kallen floundered, mouth opening and closing like a fish, and stammered out the words.
"…Why?"
That short question carried far more weight than it appeared to.
Ellie, who had been chattering away so readily, had by now turned cold and expressionless, doing nothing but staring at Kallen.
At last, she opened her mouth quietly.
"Because that's fate."
"What on earth is that supposed to…!!"
Ellie cut off the cry of anguish before it could burst from him, and threw her own question back with a frost-edged voice.
"That day."
"The day our mercenary corps fell into the witches' trap. Do you remember it?"
There was no way Kallen could forget.
Lenart's last warmth, and the sight of his own helpless, wretched self—both still seared into him as vividly as if they had happened yesterday, tormenting him still.
"The one who appeared before me, alone and trembling with fear that day, was Noel."
"…"
"The sight of him drawing his sword and standing against the demon—it was so valiant, so magnificent. Ah, even thinking about it now…"
At some point, awe had crept unbidden into Ellie's voice.
"Unfortunately he only managed to drive it back into the Illusion Realm… but well, that's impressive enough, isn't it?"
And then her mouth, which had been melting in a hazy rapture, suddenly twisted, spitting out a cold sneer.
"After all, he's rather better than a certain someone who invoked a knight's oath and all that, then lunged in so disgracefully, failed to even break even, and passed out cold."
"…"
Ellie's voice was carving into Kallen more sharply than any awl.
He could only hang his head and say nothing at all.
Ellie went on speaking calmly, as if Kallen weren't even there.
"Spending those months with him, I learned what my true destiny was. And how foolish I'd been—me, a poor mercenary's girl, thinking of becoming the wife of that. That's the whole of it."
Ellie's hair, as she said it, was simply pristine—like the season's first fallen snow.
Not a single blemish or encumbering ornament could be found on its smooth, lustrous surface.
The hairpin Kallen had once given her as a token of marriage was gone as well.
"…"
Only then did Kallen understand why she had never once come looking for him.
In the moment she needed someone most, one man had revealed himself penniless and worthless.
The other had appeared like a prince on a white horse and saved her splendidly.
Half a year was the blink of an eye to some; to another, it was more than enough time to build a new bond and erase the past.
Which way the scales would tip needed no seeing to know.
"Are you… are you really… okay with that…"
"Am I okay with it? Isn't that obvious?"
Ellie burst out laughing as though nothing could be funnier, scattering even Kallen's wrung-out protest into nothing.
"Look at me, Kallen. I'm the Saintess. The Saintess. A commoner girl with no money and no schooling has become an apostle of the god Aten. You get that, right?"
"…"
"Those proud, highborn noble daughters bow their heads before me. Lords press their lips to the backs of my hands for a single blessing and offer up rivers of gold and jewels. And the man standing at my side right now is Noel, the strongest knight in the Empire. If this isn't a good life, what is?"
"Ellie…"
"I'm sorry. But you know as well as I do. This is the life the old me… really dreamed of."
For all her words, there was not the slightest trace of apology in Ellie.
She simply smiled brightly, listing off the happiness she had been given as if showing off a prize.
"You know? Noel is the heir to one of the greatest noble houses in the Empire."
No one knew that better than Kallen did. Everything Noel possessed should have been his from the start.
The wealth, the status, the honor.
And even the sword the man carried.
"He's been teaching me all sorts of things lately. A noble's life is even more intoxicating than I imagined. Compared to that, our grubby mercenary days were really… haah…"
"Grubby?! How can you say that!"
Kallen could bear it no longer, and he cried out like a man weeping.
"How did Lena and the others die, exactly?! We owe them a vengeance we can never repay, and you…!"
"It's the truth, isn't it? And what was that? Vengeance?"
Ellie did not so much as stir.
She only glared at Kallen with cold eyes devoid of any affection whatsoever.
"Let me make one thing clear: wake up."
"…"
"That was a High Demon even Noel couldn't kill. And a nobody like you dares to speak of revenge? The man who couldn't even protect his own woman, who was toyed with from beginning to end…!"
Under that torrent of condemnation, Kallen's voice failed him entirely.
Every single word she spat was burrowing viciously into his vitals.
"What do you think you are, some legendary Sword Saint? Look at yourself!! You're nothing but a hired sword—what could you possibly…! Haah…"
The blazing force of Ellie's tirade suddenly scattered with a sigh. She glanced wearily at the parlor clock.
Then she rose abruptly and murmured without even looking at Kallen.
"…It's almost time for Noel to return. I need to prepare to greet him."
And then, something dropped with a soft thud in front of Kallen, frozen like a statue.
Inside the old, small pouch were a few gold coins, faded and stained by years of handling.
As he stared at it blankly, Ellie's quiet voice reached him.
"Take it."
Kallen met her eyes in silence, as if asking what it meant.
"I'd been saving it for my dowry. To me now… it's money that means nothing."
Ellie hesitated, choosing her words with care, then let out a breath and continued evenly.
"I'm giving it out of old sentiment, so take it without a fuss. And go find some country estate somewhere and live out your days quietly raising goats. That's the destiny that suits you, plain and simple."
Without waiting for Kallen's answer, Ellie quietly moved toward the door. There she paused for a moment and left one last remark.
"I'd like you gone before he arrives. We won't be meeting again. Goodbye, Kallen."
Ellie left the parlor without a single glance back. Beyond the sound of her fading footsteps, Kallen stood abandoned, alone and stunned.
It was a parting far too simple, and empty to its very core.
Kallen left Ellie's residence with the staggering gait of a drunkard.
He could feel the paladins' sharp stares on the back of his neck, but unlike before, no one moved to stop him.
From one of his hands hung the pouch Ellie had given him, swinging limply.
What finally blocked the path of Kallen as he wandered without destination was an old well, half-collapsed and long since dry.
Standing before it, Kallen leaned his head over and peered down into the depths for a long, long while.
"Kik… kikik…"
And then Kallen burst out laughing like a madman.
Even as his mouth laughed, his eyes kept spilling clear drops, one after another.
In the end, Kallen had failed to prove himself.
The happiness he had once believed he'd found had long since vanished like a mirage.
Before his eyes there was only the well—deep and black as the abyss, its bottom lost beyond all seeing.
Before long even the laughter that had torn out of him subsided, and Kallen turned his body, step by halting step.
Somewhere beside his path, something weighty dropped with a soft thump in front of a beggar.
"Oh, my lord, bless you…"
The beggar, seeing the gold coins inside the pouch, bowed again and again with eyes gone wide—but Kallen spared him not a single glance, simply walking on toward the city gates and the fading light of dusk.
And so he was swallowed by the gathering dark, then vanished entirely.
In the place he had fled to, abandoning everything he owed—there was no salvation.
At least, not in anything he had ever lived through.