Echoes of Betrayal and a New Kidnapping

After the real Ceres kidnapping incident, no more weird curses popped up, but that damn box hadn't turned up since then either. It wasn't until dusk finally settled that I managed to track it down, hand it over to the professor, and finally part ways with Prin.

"Haa... why the hell do they always give me such a pain-in-the-ass task."

"...Um, Lian... can I ask you something?"

['NTR Hater!!!!' who dumped this bitch snaps: way too talkative.]

She really was way too chatty. The sheer audacity of her striking up a conversation like that boiled my blood more than anything else.

"What now."

Prin flinched at my response, then let out a deep breath as if steeling herself before firing off a single short question.

"If I renounce my saintess position, would you be friends with me?"

"Nah, straight up no thanks."

What the hell kind of fresh nonsense was that? Our connection was too toxic even to call it a bad relationship. To be honest, if neither Prin nor Zenovia had regained their memories, they would've had zero ties to me anyway. Ceres still had that ex-fiancée link, but we were already cutting that loose. Lianne... well, Rain seemed to value her as a maid, so she was sticking around for now, but once academy graduation hit, she'd be done with the Primal family. Just let her scrape by doing maid work or whatever.

"Look, since it's about time, I'll lay it out straight. I really don't want to get tangled up with any of you."

"...That ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bad, huh."

"You know how I died, right?"

"I do... suicide and Zenovia's sword..."

"Besides those two. Back when I was living as a saint."

Those two times, the betrayal hit hard emotionally, but physically? Not so much. I'd endured enough agony from battles with the Demon King to shrug off mere death pangs, and pain itself had dulled for me by then.

"That time, it started with torture."

They accused me of impersonating a saint and yanked out every fingernail and toenail as fanatics. Then came the mana force circuits. They didn't care if my blood vessels got wrecked. Their heads were filled with nothing but punishing me for fabricating lies in the goddess's name, convinced that pain alone was the path to atonement. And purely in terms of suffering, it ranked among the worst of all my lives.

"They healed the nails daily with heals. Even if blood ran low, a rare few in the Holy Kingdom could use blood-replenishing magic."

Time blurred in that endless, unforgiving torment until I lost track of days. That's when they finally released me—my nerves so shattered I couldn't move, drink water, or even chew food. Pain no longer registered properly, so their final judgment was the mob's flames. They tied me to a cross and let the very citizens I'd saved burn me alive. Heat climbed from my toes, engulfing my ankles in an instant, charring my body's surface in seconds.

"My vital organs like the brain and heart stayed intact. I just ended up blind and a vegetable, but alive. Then they buried me. Not in a coffin—just straight into the dirt."

"What?"

"Got to experience something new thanks to that. Maggots writhing in my guts, soil clogging my lungs through nose and mouth. At least the holy power didn't seep into the ground much, so I died quick... but it was horrific."

In the next life, I even had Lianne ban all dirt from the mansion interior. Just seeing soil made my body react.

I settled that grudge against the church in my fifth life. I didn't Hero it up, so pure physical torment was off-limits, but I could still wield the Primal Duke's influence. Plus, with Prin's failed schemes I refused to back and the bribes I funneled to her enemies, they crumbled pathetically and got wiped out. Destroying one religion? Piece of cake. The priests who'd tortured me? I judged them myself... and capped my revenge by burying them in elixir-soaked soil.

Prin hadn't betrayed me across multiple lives like the others, and they never held personal grudges against me. It was just blind faith making them swallow the High Priestess's words hook, line, and sinker—a tragic misunderstanding.

"And in my fifth life, they wouldn't even remember what they did to me. I inflicted pain on them purely out of personal vengeance. That's it—no more grudges. If they come at me with swords, I'll meet them with mine."

We traded pain once each. I repaid their unreasonable violence... but Prin's betrayals? No way to pay those back.

"Prin, did you ever truly see me as a friend?"

"...I loved you."

"Yeah, you loved me when I was the saint, the Hero."

"No!!"

"Don't lie."

Desperation flickered in her eyes, begging me to believe her. But in my first life, that's exactly what Prin did.

"Then why'd you reach for my holy sword as I lay dying?"

"That was...!!"

"You did. I remember it clear as day. In the first life, as I was dying, you went for the holy sword before me."

Did it bug her that a church guy held the holy sword? Hate the Hero's crimson holy power over the goddess's? Or just hate me? I obsessed over it right after regressing. That's why I ditched becoming the Hero in the second life—scared she'd kill me to reclaim it. I figured graduate academy, marry Ceres, live happily. Didn't pan out.

"Eh, doesn't matter why. What I saw then? The holy sword mattered more to you than I did."

"No! I can explain that part, really!!"

"Fine, spit it out."

Prin sounded like a desperate soul, squeezing out her voice as she explained.

"That was right after I woke up from suiciding in the life where you lived as a saint! I opened my eyes and saw you dying, so I thought the holy sword's natural healing formula could revive you..."

"You're a saintess yourself—what kinda nonsense is that."

"Ah..."

How much more pathetic could she get? The excuse was just ugly. Sure, artificial or goddess-granted holy swords both had regen effects, but not enough to fix a hole in the heart. Unless it was a saintess-level miracle.

"Aah... aaahhh...!!"

"Too late to realize now, isn't it?"

Just admit it.

"Admit you didn't love me. What you loved, admired, was the position and achievements, right?"

"No..."

"Killing me at the end? Those guys were part of it, sure, but you probably figured Hero's death meant more power and merits flowing your way."

"No..."

"A Hero like me must've been a political pain too. If I'd been a commoner, no issue. But Primal Duke's heir? Had to kill me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to stop power consolidating, right? Someone probably requested it."

"I said no!!"

Ridiculous. Denying her own deeds while screaming... utterly repulsive.

"Whatever. I've said my piece... got more?"

"...No, I didn't... I didn't do that...!!"

She's lost it.

Anyway, I'd done what I came for, and it was time for my dinner promise with Minel, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so I turned toward the dorms. Prin didn't even try to stop me. No, she just mussed her hair, mumbling denials. As if that erased the past.

"...Ugh, just dredged up a bunch of irritating memories."

I summoned Nero to blot them out and first delivered the insulated-magic-warmed food to Minel.

"You're here."

"Yeah, any issues?"

"Not none, but tolerable. Feels like training during my confinement— not terrible."

"Good. I'll feed you first. With hands and feet bound, only way is face-planting the plate..."

"Please. Even if it's for the young miss, I won't ditch my dignity."

Right?

I fed her meat pie from an outside spot, and Minel stuffed her mouth like a hamster, munching away.

"...Feels like being a baby."

"Same thought crossed my mind."

Well, more like a pet, but I couldn't say that.

Nothing changed after. I'd offer pie, she'd open wide, cram it in, chew thoroughly. When she needed water, I'd give her some from the bottle, pacing to her rhythm.

"More embarrassing than I thought. Relying on someone to eat."

Yet her face stayed stone-cold...

"Anyway, time to check on Ceres."

I etched runes on myself for a plain butler look—altering build and voice—then slipped into what used to be Minel's room...

"Hm?"

"...What the hell is this."

They say disasters pile up when it rains... no breathing room.