Just the Two of Us
The world is not fair.
Innate talent divides a person's life into what they can do and what they cannot. And by the whims of fortune, people who were perfectly alive die, while those who committed evil live on.
That is why I believe in a world after death—one called Heaven, and one called Hell.
I had nothing that could be called true faith compared to other clergy, but I still offered the minimum of belief and respect, because I hoped such places existed. I prayed that those who did the right thing would find happiness in Heaven, no matter how wretched their end. I hoped that those who committed atrocities would pay for their sins in Hell, even if they died in peace.
The belief that some transcendent being watches over the good and evil we do in this world—that is the origin of religion, and the reason it never disappears, no matter how much time passes.
And I, too, sincerely wished for that.
"How are the people?"
"They're alright. They're still affected by the mental erosion, but everyone just says they don't know why they did what they did. They don't seem to think of themselves as members of the Death God Cult."
"That's a relief."
The condition of Half Village was remarkably stable. Mental erosion was a dangerous magic that could drive someone truly insane if left untreated for too long, but fortunately, no one seemed to be suffering severe aftereffects this time. In the worst case, there could have been people who, even after the erosion was lifted, still believed themselves to be members of the Death God Cult.
I wrote a few precautions on a small slip of paper and handed it to Sylphy.
"What's this?"
"The villagers may look fine for now, but as time passes, those memories may start to feel more real, and they may grow anxious. Memory occupies a particularly important part of a person's identity. The fact that they acted that way—that they felt those emotions—will linger in their minds for quite some time."
There were individual differences, of course, but in the worst cases, people who had committed murder under mental erosion couldn't bear the guilt and took their own lives. They had harbored murderous intent toward people who had done nothing wrong. And they had acted on it. Even if they had been under mental erosion, not many people could casually endure the fact that they had felt those emotions and possessed that will. No matter how much you comforted them by saying it couldn't be helped, the sensation remaining in their hands and the emotions of that moment would never be erased.
"The herbs written here should help calm them. It won't be a complete solution, though."
From here on, it was up to each of them. Completely separating those memories, those emotions, and that will from oneself was quite difficult. The one fortunate thing was that no lives had been lost. If blood had been spilled, this would have become a story no one could smile about, and I wasn't joking when I said several people would have suffered extreme mental collapse with serious symptoms.
"I've distinguished which ones can be steeped like tea leaves and which cannot, so please use them exactly as written."
"Th-thank you. You know so much, Lois. I'm so much older than you, and yet I know less than you do. I don't know what to say... it's embarrassing."
"I simply enjoyed reading books and learning more than most people. A crime born of ignorance is not necessarily innocent, but if you find ignorance shameful, this would be a good opportunity to start learning, little by little."
"Do you think I could learn?"
"You have far more time than a human like me. Given enough time, you might even surpass me in knowledge."
"...Haha. I can't even imagine that."
Well, in Sylphy's case, it wasn't so much that he was unintelligent as that he lacked the will.
When long-lived races and short-lived races fought, the long-lived should theoretically grow stronger as time passed, and yet for some reason, particularly powerful individuals often emerged from the short-lived races. Looking at the Heroes alone, they were always chosen from among humans. Never once had a Hero been born from the elves, the dwarves, or the Dragonkin. Humans were among the shortest-lived of all the races, and yet the powerful figures who left their names in history were disproportionately human—even compared to those who were older and had trained for far longer.
I didn't know why. Perhaps because their lives were short, they possessed something akin to obsession.
"I'll go deliver this to everyone!"
Sylphy ran off, waving the paper I'd given him, looking rather pleased. Still, it was a relief that the village had been saved peacefully. If things had gone even slightly wrong, blood would have flowed in droves, and no matter how I looked at it, that would have been a far cry from a happy ending.
"......"
"......"
Silence settled over the room, now occupied by only the Hero and me.
A soft rustle. The Hero drew noticeably closer. Little by little—but unmistakably—she came toward me.
"That's too close."
"Ah, sorry."
Only then did the Hero step back a little and look at me.
"I got permission to touch you, so. Yeah. ......You're going to tell me now, right?"
"You look like you've been holding that in with considerable effort."
"Well, even so, I couldn't exactly have a leisurely chat while the village was in chaos. So I held back everything that was bothering me and waited until the aftermath was over. After coming this far, if you said you actually didn't want to talk about it..."
"If I said that?"
"I'd just be disappointed, that's all."
"......Is that all it takes? I lied to you."
The Hero smiled.
"You're a wise person, Lois. You can judge perfectly well how much your own wounds sting. If you decide you can endure it on your own, you won't say a word. But you're human too, and there are things you simply can't handle alone."
"......"
"Just like how I'm receiving your help right now. ......So when your wounds are too raw and too painful, I want you to take the hand of the person right beside you. ......Well, I only have one left, so it might not be all that reliable."
She could probably still wipe the floor with everyone around her with that one remaining hand. It didn't seem like something a person who had just overwhelmingly defeated the Reaper Cult Leader should be saying. Whatever else you said about her, she was every bit the Hero rumored to be the strongest since the First Hero. No—there were even assessments that she might be the strongest Hero in history, and I agreed with that evaluation. I'd never met the First Hero, so I couldn't say for certain.
"At the very least."
The Hero smiled, warm and quiet.
"If a moment comes when you think you can't endure it anymore, and you shed tears—I want to be there beside you."
"......"
"Unfortunately, I might not have that right. But I'll work for it. ......So that I earn that right. When you're wounded and exhausted inside, I want to be among the people whose hands you reach for. I suppose that's about as much as I can ask for right now."
"......I don't think I've done anything that remarkable for you. I just did what any decent person would consider the natural thing to do."
Saving the Hero and traveling with her was, in the end, nothing more than what a decent person would naturally do.
"Maybe so. But...... no one has ever done that for me."
"......"
"You did."
"......"
"You were there. Not anyone else. ......You made it possible for an arrogant, self-righteous Hero who couldn't see a thing to finally see other people. To you, it might have been nothing more than a small act of charity—saving a passerby, a bit of volunteer work."
The Hero came closer.
"But to someone, it can be salvation. ......So you mean something to me. More than anyone else. Because you're the one who put Olivia Reinhardt into a life that had nothing in it but being the Hero."
"I think you may be overestimating me."
"I'm not."
"Well, I'll leave that judgment to you, Livia...... I don't mind telling the story, but as I said yesterday, it's not a particularly pleasant one."
"I had a feeling it wouldn't be."
Rather than that, I had decided not to think about it myself. I hadn't used Spirit Integration partly because of the strain that power put on me, and partly because there hadn't been an enemy worth using it on—but also because it wasn't a power with pleasant memories attached, and I didn't want to use it. To those who had died without ever obtaining even this kind of power, it might sound rather arrogant, but I too had a power I simply could not bring myself to like. I could use it to save someone, and I would have no choice but to use it if my life were in danger, but the truth was I would rather not use it if I could help it. As I'd said, it went beyond mere strain. I simply didn't want to use it.
"Hmm."
"Are you still debating whether to tell me or not?"
"No. Honestly, it's not something I'd call a secret, so I don't mind. The problem is I don't know where to start explaining. Some stories, when the time comes to tell them, force you to look back on the past all over again."
"I see."
"I see. First of all......"
I quickly pulled off my shirt.
"Wait, hold on!!"
"Yes?"
"I'm fine with it! Yeah! I think it's a good idea! But that's fast! The pace!! No wait—is that what you want? If we're going to do it anyway, I prefer getting it over with quickly. There's nothing quite like it for giving each other that psychological sense of belonging to one another! But isn't the context completely missing?!"
"......"
Hmm. Had I not said enough? Or rather, I hadn't said anything at all.
"I wanted to wait until we had the Elixir and do it properly, but! ......Alright, I'm ready whenever! Still, since it's the first time, be a little gentle......"
"Livia."
"H-huh? ......Wait. What is that."
The Hero, who had been lost in her own fantasies, realized I had only removed my shirt—and then she saw what was on my torso and went still with surprise. To be precise, two gem-like objects were embedded in my chest, fully fused with my body, already as much a part of "Lois" as anything else. They couldn't be removed, and even if they were, they would regenerate on their own over time. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to compare them to fingernails or toenails.
"......"
The Hero's eyes went wide, and then she seemed to intuitively grasp what they were.
"Don't tell me...... is this a Spirit Core?"
"That's right."
Recalling the memories of the past, I spoke to the Hero.
"How should I put this...... Well, simply put, I was captured as a test subject in an experiment. The Artificial Spirit Experiment."
"......"
Did I even need to go this far? I wondered, but somehow I didn't want to lie, so I let out a small sigh and continued.
"The ones who conducted that experiment were the Kingdom."
I didn't know how she would take this.
To be honest, I didn't even know how I was taking it myself, even now.