Two Years Later
This world does not belong to humanity.
In the skies above, dragons breathe their fire; in the seas, monsters lurk that can sink even a galleon; and across the land, countless monsters clash over territory.
To the monsters, humans were nothing more than the most fragile of prey.
"Chief! More Lizardmen have appeared from the west! They've set up camp right in front of the village!"
"Where's the reinforcement force the lord promised us?"
"...I don't see them."
And the weakest of humanity—the poor—were the most exposed of all to the monsters' threat.
Those who couldn't even count on the protection of city walls and armies. To the monsters, such people weren't objects of pity, only delicious, tender game.
"Lizardmen... and a Drake has appeared with them."
"Tell the villagers. Those who can fight, fight. Those who can't, flee while you can. There's no winning this."
The only things defending the village were a ramshackle palisade of lashed-together wood and a dozen-odd farmers gripping their farm tools.
The Lizardman horde, by contrast, numbered a hundred strong, properly armed with swords and spears.
At the head of their army marched even a four-legged reptilian beast—a Drake—and the villagers' morale hit rock bottom.
"Kikikiki! Too few of them!"
"Drake food not enough. Must catch more."
The Lizardmen were already flicking their tongues in anticipation of the feast to come.
"We'll flush the weak ones out the back of the village. That's where we go."
With a careless burst of laughter, about twenty Lizardmen moved toward the rear of the village.
In that direction lay the village's emergency passage, where the children were being evacuated. The village chief, catching on to their intent, cried out in desperation.
"Th-they're going after the children!"
"Chief! Out where there's no palisade, we can't even buy them time!"
A slaughter was about to unfold before their very eyes, and they were too weak to resist properly.
The villagers standing at the palisade bowed their heads, crushed beneath despair.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"You filthy vermin."
But the Lizardmen made two mistakes.
The first was that instead of destroying the village in a swift strike, they had leisurely taken their time forming an encirclement.
"...Do you enjoy killing people that much? Like those bastards did? Is it some titan you worship?"
And the second was that they had provoked the trauma of the cruelest hero in all of history—the Saintess of Fire, Paula.
"Without so much as a trace of having existed... vanish!"
The Lizardman detachment standing before her was engulfed in flame, and then vanished without a trace.
Only ash carried away on the wind remained, the sole evidence that anything had happened at all.
"Wh-what is that thing?!"
"Strong human! Strong human! Kill her with the Drakes!"
The Lizardmen let out unearthly shrieks, then quickly pushed the Drakes to the front.
Four meters of hulking mass, a bite force that could crush steel like it was nothing, and scales hard as armor.
A single one of these monsters could lay waste to an entire village.
"Move."
But before her words had even finished leaving her mouth, two Drakes had already been reduced to ash, scattering on the wind.
"KyaAAAAAK!! It's a monster! A monster!!"
"H-heroes! It's the heroes!!"
"KyaaAAK! A hero has appeared!!"
Only then did the Lizardmen realize something had gone terribly wrong, turning tail and running.
Not even knowing that they had just spoken words that must never, ever be spoken.
"...Heroes?"
Paula let out a hollow laugh, her voice sinking nearly to the ground, and then, with a face full of hatred, she breathed out fire.
"Who is it that dares to look at me... and think of that bastard?!"
KWAGWAGAGAGAGAGAG-!!
This fire was weaker in power, so the Lizardmen caught in it did not turn to ash in an instant.
It was a flame that burned them alive, making them suffer for a long, long while. A flame brimming with resentment.
"...This is irritating."
Paula soon turned her eyes away from the burning scene and walked away from the village.
***
The walled city of Velsendon, near the village where the Lizardman raid had taken place.
It was a city that handled the logistics of all the surrounding territories, drawing countless people to its streets—and yet everyone in it was talking about one person and one person only.
"The Saintess has done it again. I was stunned when she took down that wyvern, but this..."
"Even the knight order was with her back then! But this time she fought alone, didn't she? A-lone!"
Countless people had lost property, family, and friends to monsters—traveling merchants more than anyone.
To such people, the stories of a Saintess who ruthlessly swept monsters away offered an indescribable, cathartic thrill.
"A friend of mine is a scout, and according to the survey, the Lizardman force numbered a hundred, and they even brought a Drake along."
"A Drake? Come on, at least make your stories plausible. That's a monster that kills knights! How is anyone supposed to stop that alone?"
"No, I'm telling you, it's true. And there were TWO of those Drakes!"
"Hey! This guy's drunk. Throw him out."
In a corner of the rowdy tavern, a woman concealed from head to toe in a white robe—Paula—stared blankly into empty air, as if all the commotion meant nothing to her.
"Your lasagna's ready."
"And the booze?"
"You've already downed two bottles. Another?"
"Give it."
Looking at the lasagna set on the table, Paula was lost in thought for a moment before deftly handling her cutlery, slicing the dish into easy mouthfuls.
In the meantime, a bottle of harsh rum appeared on the table, and no sooner had Paula taken a single bite of lasagna than she tipped the whole bottle of rum into her mouth.
"...Haah."
As a Saintess, Paula could dispel any amount of intoxication with a simple purification, no matter how strong the drink.
And yet she was drinking with her divine power sealed away. To get drunk. To bury the painful memories.
"Am I... doing the right thing?"
No one was there to answer her drunken question, so Paula finally slumped forward onto the table.
But her appetite simply would not come, and the innocent lasagna got nothing but the occasional idle poke of her fork.
Then a shadow fell across the table.
"Is the food not to your liking?"
"...Get lost."
"My, such sharp words for someone you've only just met."
Neat black hair and gray eyes. And beneath the disguise of plain everyday clothing, a sword gleaming at his waist.
"Could I trouble you for a moment of conversation? Ah—not a courting attempt. I'm a taken man, you see."
The hero chosen by the Holy Sword. He had certainly accomplished great feats, and like Paula, he was celebrated as a hero who protected humanity.
"Then go crawl back to that woman's skirts."
He was also the one who had betrayed Paula and killed her in her previous life. The sole object of a deep, lingering grudge that belonged to one person alone.
"I don't know why you're so on edge. Is it because you don't know who I am? Or perhaps—"
"I told you to get lost."
"Ha. Fine, better to skip straight to business, then. I need the Saintess's help. The royal court is sending an army to an unexplored dungeon, and they say considerable danger may be lurking there."
Apparently realizing that friendly familiarity wasn't going to work, the hero began explaining the situation in a businesslike manner.
"Countless lives could be lost. Help us."
Paula silently glared into the hero's face.
Then she took another long swig of rum.
***
Outside the tavern, the streets bustled as they always did.
Drunkards stumbling along the road, noblewomen sighing as they wove their way around them, even cutpurses eyeing the drunks.
Among all the varieties of humanity, the ones that stood out most were a trio cloaked in robes.
"What is taking her so long? She said it wouldn't take long."
The green-haired half-elf snapped irritably, kicking an innocent pebble against the railing.
"Dead or alive, she'll show up eventually. Maybe things are going so well that they're having a drink together."
The middle-aged man, his black beard neatly trimmed, tried to soothe her.
"They say the Saintess is breathtakingly beautiful. If he gets carried away by the drink and does something untoward... we'll just have to cut him off at the waist."
"Oh dear. How terrified the Hero must be."
This time, the girl with gray hair tied in twintails glared at the shop with icy eyes, and the middle-aged man could only sigh.
"It's important business, so she's probably approaching carefully. All we need to do is watch whether she comes out of that door alone or with him—"
CRASH-!! THUD!
Before the middle-aged man could even finish speaking, the tavern window shattered, and one familiar figure was hurled out onto the street.
"Master Ain!"
"Kiddo!"
"Honey!!"
Shouting three entirely different titles, the trio drew their weapons.
The green-bobbed woman drew her white bow, the middle-aged man his massive curved greatsword, and the gray-twintailed girl transformed her hands into a bear's claws.
"Hey, kiddo. You okay? Who did this to you—"
"Old man. Things have gone bad."
"Why? What happened? Did you meet the Saintess or not?"
"I did meet her, and she's really, really angry."
The middle-aged man hastily dragged the sprawled hero over to the party.
Just then, through the shattered window, a woman clutching a flame-wreathed sword leapt out.
"Whether you're a hero or a piece of trash, I told you clearly—I have no intention of playing around with you."
A pure-white dress and hair white as raw silk. She was the Saintess that everyone in this world knew.
But unlike the rumors of how she had cured every plague patient she found without taking a single coin, her expression—blazing like furiously burning fire—was steeped in killing intent.
"How dare you lay hands on Master Ain!"
"Kali! Stop!"
Despite the hero's protests, the half-elf drew her bowstring.
It was a warning shot, so the arrow landed right at Paula's feet.
But Paula, apparently having no intention of accepting it as a warning shot, deliberately extended her foot and let the arrow bury itself in her leg.
"Kali! What are you doing!"
"I-I didn't—she stuck her leg out on purpose!"
Paula glanced down at the arrow lodged in her leg, then raised her sword toward the hero party.
The crimson flames blazed all the fiercer, until before anyone realized it, they were coiling around her entire body.
"And now I've got justification, haven't I?"
As the commotion swelled, guards came running from all directions.
But with a Saintess descended to save the world and a hero party standing against the threats to humanity, weapons drawn in a standoff, there was nothing mere guardsmen could do.
The atmosphere sharpened by the moment, and it looked as if the two factions might come to blows at any second.
"UWAAAAAAH!! WAAH! WAAH!"
At that moment, the sound of wailing echoed down the street.
It came from an infant swaddled in a red blanket. Feeling the attention of the crowd turn toward her, the mother desperately tried to soothe the baby.
As if recalling something, her expression softened noticeably, and Paula let out a sigh.
"...Hoo. All of you. Take that wretched little thing and get out of my sight."
"Eh? Ah, yes. Right away, milady, as you say."
The middle-aged man immediately sheathed his greatsword and hoisted the battered hero over his shoulder.
"And you."
Paula extinguished the flames wreathing her sword and yanked the arrow clean out of her own leg.
"Half-elf. Catch."
"...You lunatic."
Faced with the sight of her casually accepting an arrow still glistening with her own flesh, the half-elf took the arrow and hastily put distance between herself and Paula.
"There, there. Kali, you come here too. Now then—"
The last member of the hero party. The twintailed girl who had transformed one arm into a bear's claw was silently watching Paula.
"M-milady. Could you pleeease stop having a staring contest with the Saintess and come over here?"
But whether the desperate plea failed to reach them or not, the distance between the two women slowly began to shrink.
"My name is Yuka. I walk the path of the Druid."
"Paula. The Saintess of Fire you were trying to recruit."
"It seems my beloved and master, Ain, has caused you trouble. Please allow me to apologize on his behalf. We will handle the compensation for the damaged shop ourselves."
Paula looked down at Yuka with eyes still brimming with fury. As if she might carve her throat open at any moment.
"If you know he caused trouble, then get lost."
"...I apologize, but we will come again. I know it is rude of us, but this matter is desperately important to us as well."
"Come if you want to die."
"It concerns the Crimson Order, so I don't imagine you would be so averse to it."
At that instant, far in the distance, a flock of birds shot up into the sky in perfect unison.
From the guardsmen trying to control the situation to the citizens who had gathered to watch—every being that knew how to feel fear dropped to the ground.
"Oh, you have got to be—"
A wave of dense killing intent, so heavy it stiffened even the bodies of the hero party watching from afar.
"Tell me everything."
The enraged Saintess's voice buried even the church bells tolling the curfew, and crushed the entire street beneath it.