Stockholm Syndrome
The romance fantasy novel I had transmigrated into was called The Reverse Harem is Somewhat Strange. In that story, the major plot points were referred to as "episodes," each one given its own title. The person responsible for that task was none other than the protagonist, Heidi. As an avid reader of novels, she had a habit of framing everything she experienced as a single "episode." It was usually described along the lines of, "This would probably count as the third episode if this were a novel! Maybe this title would work?" The term "episode" was particularly effective at summarizing the novel's key events, and I knew readers discussing the story frequently used the word as well.
So, to borrow Heidi's phrasing...
The current episode was the second one following the train attack. After this second episode—which they intended to use as a stepping stone to steal the students' dreams—the succubi would begin their full-scale activities. That started in the fifth episode: The Dream That Never Ends.
In that sense, the fact that the Saint was single-handedly defeating a succubus who wasn't supposed to appear in full until the fifth episode meant his current combat strength had already surpassed the level it should have at that point in the story.
"Wouldn't more allies be better?" If someone said something like that, I would smile silently and deliver a sharp kick to their shin. As I've said repeatedly, every single male lead in this novel is twisted in some way. They were threats to me, not allies. Never allies.
The only reason nothing had gone wrong until now was because the male leads kept each other in check. But if the delicate balance of power tipped entirely toward one side? That was practically a guaranteed bad ending.
At least it's the Saint, so maybe it's not the worst outcome. If any of the others had grown this overwhelmingly strong alone, it would have been game over for me. But with the Saint, there was still a chance I could survive. For one thing, he had his reasons for not wanting to kill me—Jack Orlannte, specifically.
If we were talking in game terms, the Saint was a tank whose stats were all concentrated in defense rather than attack power. Perhaps that was reflected in how he obsessed over Heidi. Unlike the others who resorted to violence, he simply wanted to lock her away for the rest of her life.
Of course, that wasn't exactly a good thing either... But if the crown prince were currently as strong as the Saint, I'd already be writing my last will. Compared to killing everyone around her or devouring Heidi, the Saint's approach seemed far preferable.
Huh? Wait, what am I even thinking?
Have I finally gone mad? The day I started thinking that stalking and confinement were "not that bad" had arrived. Was this Stockholm syndrome? It terrified me to realize that if I ended up imprisoned later, I'd probably accept it cheerfully with a "Well, it's better than having my organs eaten~" I needed to find a way out of this world as soon as possible, no matter what it took.
"Haa... haaack...!"
At that moment, Fate's pain-filled cry shattered my thoughts. Her breathing was growing increasingly labored, as if even drawing breath had become difficult. Her eyes trembled violently. The pool of blood spreading across the floor made her dire condition unmistakably clear.
"I didn't want to die like this..."
Fate twisted in agony as she forced the words out. It must have been her final burst of strength. Even I could instinctively tell she was burning through the last flames of her life.
"Since you've come here, I assume you know who I am?"
That's why I listened to her quietly. No matter what evils she might have committed in life, she was someone who had been toyed with by fate only to be run over by a dump truck of a Saint and soon depart this world. Besides, in the current situation the Saint wasn't the one in danger—he was the one wiping everything out. Listening to her a little wouldn't hurt, and it might even help drain some of his power.
"Be good to Lucia. Her personality is a little twisted, but she's a good kid at heart."
"...?"
"I'm serious. I'm a succubus, so I can tell whether someone's good or bad with perfect clarity."
She coughed up several spurts of blood, then her lips merely twitched as if speaking had become too difficult. In the novel, I'd assumed Fate was only getting close to Lucia because she wanted to use her, but...
"It's because she played with me for a few days. That's why I'm telling you this specially."
Perhaps, at least in the original story, Lucia and Fate had truly been friends. Even though she was dying so pointlessly now due to the Saint's anomaly, if they'd had more time together in the novel, they probably would have grown much closer.
"...I knew it would end up like this someday."
Fate let out a breath as if relieved, then slowly closed her eyes. Her chest, which had been rising and falling in time with her breaths, stopped moving altogether. Finally, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly in what looked like a smile, and then she vanished from the spot as if she had turned to dust.
And so, Fate—the key figure of the fifth episode—died.
May you rest in peace.
I offered a brief prayer for her, then began walking toward where the Saint was, following the trail marked by bloodstains, the thick metallic scent, and faint screams.
"At this rate, the fifth episode..." The episode where the succubi would wait until all the students were asleep before draining their dreams completely. The Dream That Never Ends probably wouldn't be able to proceed properly.
No, perhaps because Eden Holloway was currently sweeping away all the succubi, the fifth episode itself might not occur at all.
"This is seriously messed up."
And not just a little—it was twisted beyond recognition.
The fourth episode, helping Nihil with the Pandemonium subjugation, I had intentionally handed off to him. But I had never imagined the fifth would be skipped over entirely.
"Don't most novels have it that skipping episodes often leads to better outcomes...?"
Was this novel set to hardcore mode or something? It created an ironic situation where the stronger the one progressing the episodes became, the more tense I had to feel.
Still, maybe I can actually talk with the Saint.
In passing before, the Saint had mentioned being "Heidi's childhood friend who went missing when she was young." In truth, Eden, Heidi, and I had met when we were very young. Even before I possessed Jack's body, we had been childhood friends for seven years, ever since we were all six years old.
The reason it was only seven years was because six months after my possession—when Heidi, I, and Eden turned thirteen—Eden received the Mark of God on his arm, the qualification to become a Saint or Saintess.
Receiving the Mark of God automatically qualified one to become a Saint or Saintess.
And Saints and Saintesses were not only representatives of the Holy Empire but also possessed overwhelming divine power. They were unbreakable holy shields before the enemy and paragons of virtue who led the people.
That was the public image of Saints and Saintesses.
So how could they mold those who received the mark into such "symbolic figures"? The qualification could appear in any child, noble or commoner, as long as they hadn't committed any evil deeds.
The answer was semi-forced abduction.
Under the pretext of training Saints and Saintesses, the Holy Empire would take children bearing the Mark of God into their fold by any means necessary. Then, through systematic education, they would shape them into the image the public expected. Of course, since they were provided with quite luxurious food and living conditions, many people didn't complain.
But Eden had loathed becoming a Saint with every fiber of his being.
He would smile brightly in front of others but curse the god who had engraved what was essentially a curse upon him in private. That was why he harbored considerable lingering attachment toward Heidi and Jack, from whom he had been forcibly separated. And toward Heidi—his feelings for whom were mixed with romantic interest—he displayed fanatical obsession, which eventually led to attempts to confine her.
"Still, since his obsession stems from not being able to meet us, maybe we can resolve it peacefully through conversation..."
As I walked, clinging to the most hopeful thoughts possible, something bumped against my foot with a dull thud.
"Huh...?"
I looked down with a questioning sound. What I saw was a succubus beaten like ground meat, smashed and pulped all over yet still barely clinging to life. Seeing that made me seriously doubt whether this could be resolved through peaceful means like conversation.
He's not the type to just beat them to death without even trying to talk, right...?
I knew that no matter how twisted he was, he wouldn't do that to a childhood friend he had lost when young. But after seeing several smashed succubi along the way, I felt deeply unsettled. I had already come across what seemed like multiple that had been reduced to bloody pulps.
"...Sigh."
I tried to calm my mind as much as possible, but the closer I drew, the more the killing intent hanging in the air made my body shiver. My nose had already grown accustomed to the increasingly thick smell of blood that told me I was nearing where the Saint was.
"Kyaaaack!!"
The closer I got, the louder the screams grew. After taking a deep breath and stepping into the area where the Saint should be, what met my eyes was a slender man with blond hair enveloped in a golden domain. And the sight of him repeatedly smashing an already nearly pulverized succubus with his giant mace.
But astonishingly, the succubus's body—which could only be called a lump of meat now—kept recovering in an instant only to be smashed again, repeating the cycle several times.
"Hahaha...!"
As he played what resembled a twisted game of whack-a-mole, Eden's red eyes sparkled with innocent laughter. His expression held the pure happiness of a child squashing ants, and from within that innocence seeped a terrible madness that transmitted through the air and across my skin.
...Hic.
I don't know how long I stood there, body rigid, overwhelmed by that madness.
"...Who are you?"
Before I knew it, Eden had tilted his head at an unnatural angle in my direction. He smiled in a way that sent chills down my spine and began approaching, swinging his mace with a menacing whoosh.
"A new toy, perhaps?"
...I'm not going to die here, am I?