I Would Never Forgive Myself
The Death God Cult.
A religion that, true to its name, worships the God of Death, believes in him with fanatical devotion, and seeks to resurrect him.
It was not, of course, an officially recognized faith. And yet it kept multiplying somehow, and crimes committed by its followers kept surfacing from one place or another.
Even back when I had been traveling with the Hero, we had come across atrocities the Death God Cult had committed. The Hero had quite literally beaten the perpetrators to a pulp with her bare fists.
The reason was simple: they did not deserve the mercy of dying cleanly, in a single stroke of the Holy Sword.
They had been conducting human experiments on children. Countless children had been sacrificed. Even I, who normally tried to stop the Hero from using excessive force, said nothing.
It may be a strange thing to admit, but that was also the first day I truly shared the Hero's feelings.
"What is the Death God Cult doing to Half Village?"
"I'm not sure whether to say what they're doing, or what's being done to us."
"In real time? Then there ought to be evidence. You should take this to the city guard. However much discrimination against half-bloods there may be, people in official positions aren't going to simply ignore what you have to say."
The Eastern Continent had a fair number of half-bloods, after all. Most of the people who came this far were either well-disposed toward them, or at least indifferent.
Of course, people came in every stripe. It wasn't as though nobody had ever traveled all this way just to shout their hatred of half-bloods. If anything, the fact that so many half-bloods lived here might have been precisely why they shouted it.
Regardless, they would at least hear the report. Invoke the name of the Death God Cult, and they would surely dispatch soldiers to Half Village to investigate, if nothing else.
"There hasn't been any direct harm. It's hard to explain, but... followers of the Death God Cult are being made in Half Village."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"Please, just listen! Those people aren't the sort who'd ever fall in with a twisted religion like the Death God Cult! Something is wrong!"
"...Lois? What do you think?"
"Mental manipulation isn't impossible, but I haven't seen it myself. It's difficult to say anything with certainty."
"People changed overnight. And it's spreading. By now, there are fewer people in Half Village who aren't with the Death God Cult."
"..."
Mental manipulation was a genuine possibility. Was there any event that could make someone devote themselves to a religion overnight? I couldn't say it was impossible — but when it wasn't one or two people, when it spread as if it were contagious, the odds dropped considerably. Mental manipulation was the far more likely explanation.
"And they've been growing more... violent, I suppose you'd say. Half Village does allow a certain degree of religious freedom, but this has gone too far..."
"Blind faith. Obsession. Classic behavior for a fanatic — and for someone whose mind has been tampered with."
"This isn't something we can confirm without seeing it ourselves."
"A friend of mine got me out. I wanted to ask for help however I could, but I couldn't go to the city guard."
"Why not?"
"As I said, half-bloods face a certain amount of discrimination. However little of it there may be, the Eastern Continent isn't free of it either. And if they heard that we'd fallen in with the Death God Cult..."
There was a real chance we would be marked for extermination.
"..."
If the mental manipulation came to light, there might be room for leniency. But if they had already been acting as members of the Death God Cult, that alone would be enough to brand them as criminals.
There had never been a case of someone standing trial simply for belonging to the Death God Cult — but that was only because the cult's members almost always caused trouble and got caught in the act. Merely being known as a devoted follower wouldn't get you arrested, but in the public eye, it amounted to the same thing as being a criminal.
And if those followers happened to be half-bloods, then depending on the discretion of whoever was in command, the possibility of being cut down on the spot was not zero.
"So that's why you couldn't go to the guard."
"You two seem strong. I know this is an imposition. But I have nowhere else to turn...! Please, help us!"
"..."
"..."
The Hero and I fell silent at the same time. Then she looked at me.
What was I supposed to say?
I thought for a moment, then opened my mouth.
"This is your journey."
"It is."
"Fortunately, Half Village lies on the road to Elvenheim, so we wouldn't have to turn back. But there's no telling how long it would take to resolve this. And that lost time could prove fatal."
"..."
"There's also the matter of how Elvenheim would take it if they learned we'd helped a half-elf. At worst, an already poor impression could grow even worse."
They might not take so discriminatory a stance. But I could not guarantee they wouldn't.
I held the Hero's gaze and went on.
"I've laid out the risks as I see them. ...Now I need your answer. What will you do?"
When all was said and done, this was the Hero's journey — a journey to save her life. The choice was hers.
"What if."
"..."
The Hero sat there blankly for a moment. Then a faint smile touched her lips.
"Let's say I refuse this request here. Let's say I go off to save my own life, and I actually succeed."
"That would be a relief."
"Right? But then afterward I go to Half Village, and a lot of people are dead. Or wounded. Torn apart, even."
"That wouldn't be your fault."
"I know. Even if I refuse here, no one would blame me. Someone might even praise me for making the wise choice."
The Hero was smiling.
There was a nature in people that nothing could change, no matter what they did. I had one. And so did she.
"Someone is suffering right now, this very moment. Someone might even be dying. If I hadn't heard Sylphy's story, I could have just moved on, telling myself I'd never known. ...But I did hear it. And now it's right in front of me."
"..."
"..."
"If there's a tragedy that will come of this — if there's a tragedy I can stop by going... then I want to go."
I simply closed my mouth and listened.
Back when I had been in the Hero's party, I hadn't particularly liked her — but I hadn't disliked her either. I felt as though I were seeing the reason for that, right here, all over again.
"Am I saying this because I'm trapped in some obsession? Or am I saying it with my own true voice?"
"That isn't something I can judge. Would you like to let my evaluation decide your values for you?"
"...I'd rather not. I don't want to become that kind of weak woman."
"I'm glad to hear it."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
The Hero fidgeted a little, then spoke.
"You don't actually have any reason to come along on my journey. You're helping me out of nothing but goodwill... So the kindest thing I could do for you would be to get to Elvenheim as fast as possible and finish what we came to do."
"That's quite right. I don't want you to die, after all."
"Yeah... I'm sorry."
"Then let's go, quickly."
"Huh?"
"Solving Half Village's problem and then moving on is the fastest route, isn't it? So we should go."
"..."
The Hero looked at me, a little startled. Then she said,
"I-I'm supposed to be the one raising my affection rating here...! Why do you keep raising yours with me?!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"U-um..."
"Hm?"
It occurred to me then that we had gotten so absorbed in the conversation we'd forgotten Sylphy was still there.
Still, the word Hero itself had never come up, and her appearance was different enough from the widely circulated image that he wasn't likely to make the connection immediately.
"From the sound of it, you have business in Elvenheim."
"That's right."
"Are you ill? No — you do look unwell, just from looking at you..."
"The Dea—"
I covered the Hero's mouth.
"Her condition hasn't been good. We need medicine that can only be obtained in Elvenheim."
"I see. Would that happen to be the sap of the World Tree?"
I considered Sylphy's question for a moment, then let out a quiet breath.
"Yes. That's what we need."
"I might... be able to help you with that."
"What?"
"No, please don't get your hopes up too high..."
Sylphy's expression was deeply troubled. Was it a sensitive matter to speak of?
"If you save my village... you'll have staked your lives for someone you only just met. That's right, isn't it?"
"Put extremely, yes."
"Then I'll help you too. I don't know if I'll actually be of any use, but one method has occurred to me. I'll stake my life as well, and see to it that you can obtain the sap of the World Tree."
Hmm.
From the way he spoke, he wasn't certain — but it sounded as though he had something along the lines of, Wait, this might actually work. Whether it was a legal method, I had no idea.
But obtaining the sap legally from the elves' own nation would be difficult as things stood. We had no information, and if we went in only to be turned away at the gate and insulted for our trouble, we would be lucky. In that situation, Sylphy claimed to know a way to obtain the sap of the World Tree.
I didn't know what it was, or how likely it was to succeed — but it might well be wiser than going in as we were and bowing our heads to beg.
"Very well."
The more options, the better. Even if we didn't choose the path Sylphy had prepared, simply knowing we could choose it at any time made a difference in peace of mind.
"We don't have time to linger. Let's go."
"By the way, Lois."
"Yes?"
"I smashed the dishes earlier..."
"...I know."
We'd have to pay for those, wouldn't we?
Once this journey was over, I was going to have to work a little harder. Money was pouring out of my pockets left and right.