Just the Two of Us
Alex and Velita said nothing.
They had become heroes—worshipped by everyone. Whatever misfortune might have struck at the very end, that much was fact. And yet, in the midst of all that adoration, their faces could not have been darker.
The reasons, of course, were not the same.
"Could it be that the Hero is... still alive?"
Velita was the first to speak.
The Hero, Olivia Reinhardt, was dead. That was what the world believed. And then, without warning, the Holy Sword had vanished. Reports had come in from East Port of a golden light.
"How...?"
Velita covered her mouth, the word barely more than a murmur.
The moment of what they had done to her remained so vivid it visited her in nightmares every single night. An eye blown out. A heart run through. An arm torn away. Her skin already rotting under the God of Death Poison—and from that state, she had fallen from a cliff of that height. And still she hadn't died. She had survived. More than survived: she had successfully formed a new contract with the Holy Sword at East Port, a journey of several days even by carriage.
"This is a serious matter, Miss Velita."
"Yes..."
"It seems you still don't grasp the situation. Rayna, you, and I set out to assassinate the Hero, and we actually went through with it. Not only did we fail spectacularly—we announced our success to the world."
"..."
"If Olivia manages to cure even the God of Death Poison, there will be no turning back. We'll be finished."
"She might have already cured it."
"No. She couldn't have treated it yet."
"Why not?"
Alex privately filed Velita under idiot for needing even this explained to her. He could hardly insult someone occupying the position of Saintess to her face, however, so he kept the thought where it belonged—inside his own head.
"The fact that she was at East Port means she intends to go to the Eastern Continent."
"That's right."
"Then her objective becomes clear. Elvenheim. That's where she's headed."
"Elvenheim. The World Tree Sap!"
"Precisely. It's said to heal any poison, any curse."
And there were records that it actually had.
If that was the case, then Olivia had gone from East Port to the Eastern Continent with a single purpose: to somehow obtain the World Tree Sap in Elvenheim and heal her body.
Impressive. I didn't think she'd know information like that.
She'd had no interest in anything besides fighting, so her general knowledge was surprisingly thin in places—but she'd known at least that much? No. That wasn't what mattered right now.
What mattered was that Olivia knew about the World Tree Sap, and that she had actually made it all the way to East Port in order to get it.
He had never intended to underestimate the Hero's vitality. Even so, he had never imagined she would still be alive after taking that much. Not finding a corpse had left him vaguely uneasy, but he'd assumed that at worst she'd be collapsed somewhere, barely clinging to life. He had never thought she would move that ruined body all the way to East Port.
What a monster.
Alex recalled the thought he'd had a hundred times on the road, and let out a small sigh.
"W-what am I supposed to do, then?"
"First, we contact Miss Rayna. She wanted to return to Elvenheim, after all."
Well—she might simply want to run from him. He had deceived that innocent girl, and now a collar called a contract hung around her neck; she had no choice but to follow him whether she liked it or not. So long as she behaved, he had no particular intention of treating her poorly. He'd planned to use her to keep relations with the elves on good terms. The pact had been a precaution, nothing more.
And given the current state of Elvenheim, the elves' own nation, they would have even more reason to bow their heads to Alex.
"Listen carefully, Miss Velita."
"Yes."
"Even if the Hero is alive, what we have to do doesn't change. We simply kill her again. No matter that she's obtained the Holy Sword—the God of Death Poison is killing her as we speak."
The clock ran until Olivia, the Hero, detoxified the God of Death Poison. They could not, under any circumstances, allow her to obtain the World Tree Sap. Even if the elves were unfriendly toward her, even if they refused to cooperate—if, in the worst case, she seized it by force and used it to purge the poison, they would be finished at that very moment.
"We kill her before she's freed from the God of Death Poison."
"..."
"Miss Velita. You wouldn't happen to be feeling guilty, would you?"
"I—"
Alex stepped closer.
"...!"
"What do you think would happen if people found out that you—the Saintess—have no qualification to be one?"
He had to admit, it was impressive. Velita produced power to rival a true Saintess without actually being one; she deserved to be called a genius. It was only because Olivia the Hero stood so far beyond the ordinary that she didn't stand out. Every member of the Hero's party had been a genuine expert in their own field, and Velita in particular had held the seat of Saintess without ever possessing the Saintess Stigma.
Admirable. But in this kingdom, nothing mattered more than legitimacy.
"Especially your family. House Bright, which you all but hold up by yourself. If it came to light that the Saintess in fact has no Saintess Stigma... what do you think would happen?"
"..."
"You have to do your best for your family's sake too, don't you? Miss Velita."
"...I understand."
"Good."
Next was Rayna. She had looked even worse off than Velita, but if she wanted to protect Elvenheim, she would need Alex one way or another. That much was certain.
"Let's go. First we tell Miss Rayna—and we make sure Olivia Reinhardt never sets foot in Elvenheim."
"Lois. It's only been a day since I fell asleep."
"That's right."
"But your arm's already healed."
"It seems it was a lighter injury than I thought."
"..."
"..."
Silence stretched between them.
Had it been too clumsy a lie after all? No matter how you looked at it, it was far too easy to see through for someone who had spent her entire life in combat. The Hero, who had been watching me quietly, eventually turned her head.
"Forget it. If you don't want to talk about it."
"...Are you all right with that?"
"I'm not going to pry it out of you. Just tell me when enough time has passed that, in your heart, I've become someone you can share secrets with."
"...Do you truly intend to stay with me for the rest of your life?"
Hearing her put it that bluntly was a little embarrassing. Did this woman not have the concept of beating around the bush? She probably wouldn't last a day in politics.
"I have no intention of living in the Royal Capital, you know."
"Hm? Neither do I."
"...I beg your pardon? You're from House Reinhardt of the kingdom, aren't you?"
"I don't need any of that. However justified their reasons might have been—do I have any reason to live in the kingdom that reduced me to this? I don't want to go to the Royal Capital."
"..."
It was a more plausible reason than I'd expected. Whatever the circumstances, she had been thoroughly betrayed, and without me she would have died right there—no exaggeration. The weight of her words was different. In a great many ways, she seemed to have let go of a great deal since reclaiming the Holy Sword.
The old compulsion had largely faded. Her once-clouded gaze had cleared somewhat, and the face looking back at me was, for once, a human one.
Above all, she made no attempt to hide her goodwill toward me. Not only that—she seemed to feel not the slightest flicker of embarrassment about it. When she wore that utterly unashamed, almost manly look that said, Why should I be embarrassed about saying I like someone I like?, I had no idea how I was supposed to respond.
"Personally, I think a life of travel with you would be enjoyable too."
"Is that so?"
"But that's my greed talking, so I don't need a yes from you yet. I will make you say it, though. That you want to keep traveling with me too."
"That confidence of yours hasn't changed one bit—then or now. Get too confident and it turns into arrogance, and then even the things that should work out won't. You were actually betrayed that way, weren't you?"
"..."
Ah. That might have been a little rude.
The Hero looked at me for a moment. Then she smiled.
"You're right."
"..."
"So I'll do my best. So that this stays confidence, not arrogance."
"...You don't have to slam me with a confession right off the bat, you know."
The Hero sat back in her chair and grinned at me, playful.
"Look at that handsome face."
"Pardon?"
"And that nice voice."
"..."
"A kind demeanor. A rare vocation as a Spiritist—you can make a living anywhere. You're tall, too. All in all, you're a good man."
"What does any of that have to do with this?"
When I asked, she went on.
"If you'd saved me because you liked me, I figured I could afford to take my time. If you'd saved me because I was 'Olivia Reinhardt,' I could have been leisurely about it. But..."
She looked at me.
"That's not it, is it? Even if it weren't me—if someone had collapsed like that, you would have saved them. You would have done everything you could to help."
"I believe I heard this earlier."
"Yeah. If you'd save someone even if it weren't me, then getting you to accept a confession seems impossible, doesn't it? If I dawdle and some other woman figures out what a good man like you is worth, I wouldn't stand a chance."
The face she made while laying this out so logically was somehow irritating, but I listened quietly for now. More than that, I couldn't understand why she was so certain I was a good man. I didn't think I was that bad—but personally, it seemed like a great deal of the Hero's own feelings were mixed in.
"Why wouldn't you stand a chance? If we can just deal with the poison, you're quite the looker yourself, aren't you?"
"That's the past."
"The past?"
"I'll apologize for every discourtesy I showed you during the Hero party days. Thinking about it, I should have done it the moment I saw you. No matter how much I've changed my mind, the past doesn't disappear. In your heart, I'm a woman with nothing but bad memories—someone you could never possibly like."
"..."
"That past doesn't go away. So even if my looks are a bit worse than they used to be, I'm at a considerable disadvantage. You understand, right?"
Hearing my own psychology laid out by someone else was a truly peculiar feeling. And the fact that it was uncomfortably close to the truth was somehow irritating too.
"Still. I do have some advantages."
"Let's hear them, then."
I was mildly curious why I had to sit through this, but she was going to say it anyway, so I gave up.
"Appearances aside, I've had quite a few men hitting on me. In other words, objectively speaking, my looks aren't bad. If I can just get the World Tree Sap and the Elixir and restore my face, I won't lose to anyone."
"That's true."
"And on top of a beautiful face, I have two lumps of fat that your average woman doesn't possess."
"...Would you please get away from me? I was in the wrong."
The Hero smiled.
"In all my years living as a Hero, I never once thought these hunks of flesh were convenient. From now on, though—they just might be."
"..."
"..."
A brief silence settled. Then the Hero looked up at me.
"Want to touch them?"
"No thank you."
"An instant answer hurts a little. Could you hesitate a bit first next time?"
"What a troublesome woman..."
"You knew that when you picked me up."
It was true that I'd expected the journey to be troublesome, and that looking after the Hero would be troublesome too. The kind of troublesome I'd imagined, however, had not been in this direction.
I checked the pocket watch I was carrying.
"It's almost time for the ship. Let's go."
"So even after a demon attack, the ships still run."
"Those people have to make a living too."