Episode 7. The Night the Storm Came (12)
Under the slowly brightening sky, all that remained in the forest were the traces of the fierce battle. Trees and earth stained red with splattered blood, holy knights and priests still standing amid it all.
“…”
“Urgh…”
And there was the paladin, still unable to rise with my sword embedded in him, and me.
The divine spells that had flown in and the barriers that had unfolded, even Asha’s magic—all had come to a halt at some point. The holy knights stood frozen, staring in disbelief at the unbelievable scene.
We had won. In the end, I was the one who hadn’t fallen.
No matter how wretched and miserable it had been, in the battle against the paladin, I was the one who hadn’t crumbled.
“H-how can this…”
“Impossible…”
Such murmurs reached my ears faintly. Or maybe they weren’t faint—perhaps they were loud shouts. I couldn’t tell anymore. My ears had gone wrong; every sound buzzed and echoed distortedly.
My vision was badly blurred too, making it impossible to distinguish one face from another. White figures swayed indistinctly before me. The ground around shimmered red, and the sky now gleamed faintly blue.
My body didn’t just creak—it had lost all sensation. Through the hazy vision, I could only see the red blood dripping steadily from me, plop-plop.
To put it simply, though the paladin was the one clearly unable to rise right now, my condition was far worse. Unlike him, who’d only had both knee joints shattered to immobilize him and a sword lodged in his shoulder, I looked like a corpse barely clinging to life.
But even in that state, when I heard the pattering footsteps of someone charging in—thud-thud-thud—my body reacted.
One of the white figures, which had been standing still, swayed and rushed forward. Trailing a glow noticeably dimmer than the paladin’s, it bounded with fresh vigor unlike my battered form. Sword of pure white in hand, it raced not toward me, but toward where Asha should be—the direction of the gray it meant to slay.
So, on reflex, I hauled my kneeling body upright and scattered the last of my mana. My body swayed and groaned, but the mana in my boots forcibly aided its movement.
Before I knew it, I’d circled behind the white figure and slammed my gauntlet down on its back with all my might.
Crack!
“Guhh…?! H-how, in that state…!”
Unlike the paladin’s armor, which had withstood blow after blow unscathed, this one crumpled inward with a single punch—I could feel it.
I kicked the fallen holy knight far away. Or at least, far enough. I wasn’t sure anymore. I didn’t even know if I had that much strength left.
All I did was scan my blurred vision for any other holy knights approaching Asha, then turn back to the still-prone paladin.
Silence kept falling over us. None of them had expected things to come to this; they were all eyeing each other warily.
Even amid it all, I stood there blankly, gripping the hilt of my sword still lodged in the paladin to keep my tottering body from collapsing. Blood dripped, plop-plop.
I couldn’t keep my mouth shut; sticky blood mixed with saliva kept pouring from my parted lips in rivulets. It seeped thickly between the gaps in the gauntlet wrapping my utterly ruined hand.
Blood trickled down the blade, steadily dyeing the paladin’s armor even redder.
And then a deep voice rang out.
“…, Why.”
“…”
The voice echoed calmly, cutting clearly through the buzzing distortion.
“Cough…, why resist so desperately.”
“…”
I couldn’t see his expression. My vision was too fogged to make out his face or guess what look he wore. But even without seeing it, I could feel the paladin’s emotions.
“Even if you resist like this now, urgh… you and the gray will be hunted by the Holy Kingdom until you all die. Why…, go this far…”
“…”
Why, exactly.
His words dripped with human emotion from the paladin I’d thought devoid of it, as if he couldn’t comprehend my actions at all.
“The gray is evil. Cough…, the gray is calamity. Hundreds, thousands of years of history declare it so—why…!”
So.
“…, Just.”
I too grasped my dazed mind and spat out words.
“What does that…”
“We just wanted to live normally, just…”
In truth, I spat it out: we never wanted to live like this; we just wanted to be ordinary.
“Just…, we only wanted to live ordinary lives.”
“…”
We’d only hoped to live ordinarily, yet this journey had been forced upon us.
“Like everyone else… just live ordinary lives, laugh ordinarily, be happy ordinarily.”
“…”
Who the fuck wants to be chased by the Holy Kingdom and have their life threatened?
Ordinary. It might have been simple and natural for others, but for that young girl, nothing had been harder.
“But…, you bastards won’t allow it even though we’ve done nothing wrong…, hah…. You won’t let us live ordinarily, you fucking fanatic shits.”
“…”
So maybe that’s why I’d agonized over her pitiful sight—dying in an alley after being abandoned—and finally decided, time and again, dozens, hundreds of times.
“We’ve done nothing wrong…. We just want to cure the gray…. We just want to live ordinarily…. We kept saying it.”
“…”
Even though he didn’t know how Asha had writhed in pain yet endured, holding back to strive for an ordinary life.
“…, What the hell did we do wrong? Tell me, you fucking bastard. What great sin did we commit?”
“…”
Why only now, after all this, did he open ears that had been shut tight to finally hear me?
Once I started spilling the words, they wouldn’t stop, bursting forth like a dam breaking—things I’d bottled up inside. Mixed with blood or tears, I didn’t know, they fell in drops.
“We just wanted to live ordinarily…. Just…, be happy together…”
“…”
Asha and me. Uncle Rendo, Mistress Idrin and Yansen too. Even my parents.
We’d only hoped to laugh together and live ordinarily. Back when she’d poke her head out waiting for me in the alley, or when she worked hard helping at the grocery to afford living there.
We’d only wanted to help because she smiled brightly, trying so hard to live kindly.
“You who claim to better the world…, ngh. Why do this to people who just want to live ordinarily, you crazy fucks…”
“…”
We’d endured more than those living ordinarily. Knowing that crossing the line even slightly meant danger, we’d always been cautious, so very cautious.
“Cough…, you lunatics who slaughter and crucify even gray children—what justice do you babble about? If you’re killing for being gray alone, you should’ve rounded up and killed those worm parents who birthed them and fled too.”
“…”
So really, those declaring justice while crossing lines freely were the worse bastards.
“Cough…, are you really the good ones…? No. You who try to slaughter on sight just for being gray—you’re the evil.”
“…”
“You who act like demons despite not being born with them inside—you’re the real evil, you piece of shit…”
“…”
Isn’t it you fanatics with your rock-solid faith in your righteousness who are wrong for pulling this shit?
I poured out those words, then yanked my sword from his shoulder. Blue mana flickered. The mana stored in the blade was nearly depleted; it no longer had the power to hold the paladin in place.
So I crooked a finger toward where Aberly should be.
Continuing the fight wasn’t wise. Holy knights and paladins backed by priests were near-invincible until their vast divine power ran out—the longer the battle dragged, the more it favored them.
At my gesture, shadowy figures of my comrades bustled onto the carriage. Of course, the halted holy knights raised their swords and poised to charge our carriage.
“…, Your name.”
“…”
The now-risen paladin tossed me the scabbard lodged in the gap of his knee armor and spoke. He gestured for the charging holy knights to halt and seemed to look at me.
“I am Criseo Mateus, veteran paladin of the Brahm Holy Kingdom. What is your name?”
“Hah…, you think I’ll give my name when I’m already wanted as a criminal?”
Luckily, I was only sketched by features for now; once my name got out, I couldn’t even sneak into cities pretending otherwise.
But despite my refusal, the paladin gazed steadfastly at me and spoke.
“I alone shall know it, swordsman without a name.”
“…”
“I swear it upon the life I’ve devoted to the Holy Kingdom and my faith as a paladin.”
Then he unclasped his gauntlet and inscribed a glow upon the church emblem on his hand’s back.
Holy oath. A binding restraint used by Brahm Holy Kingdom faithful when swearing; even the intent to break it was said to kill you outright.
I watched silently, then murmured just loud enough for the paladin alone.
“…, Ain. Intermediate adventurer Ain.”
“I see. Swordsman Ain, I’ll remember you.”
Of course, his words of remembering didn’t sound good. Clutching my sword tightly with that thought, I stared at him, and he spoke his final words to me.
“You’ve bested me, so I’ll let you go. But heed this warning: the next pursuit force will be far stronger.”
“…”
“Failing the mission with one paladin included, they’ll send at least three paladins in the next pursuit team after you.”
“Got it.”
At least three paladins, he said. Guess we’d have to flee as far as possible.
Flee blindly to somewhere the Holy Kingdom’s reach wouldn’t extend, then plan our next move. I nodded curtly to the impassive paladin and headed for the carriage.
My body kept swaying. This was truly the limit now.
And.
“Ain.”
“Ah…, yeah. Let’s go quick.”
“Yes.”
All that awaited was the beautiful woman supporting me.