Tormenting the Lanky Scrub (5)
Practice Mode? THIS is what you opened to try to calm me down?
Ha. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. I'm speechless. Did you really think I'd be all grateful just because you unlocked some random feature for me?
This is literally the most useless feature in the entire game!
In Soul Academy, Practice Mode was the place where, whenever you learned a new skill, you could try it out on scarecrow dummies.
Its whole purpose was to teach new players how their freshly acquired skills worked.
For people playing the game for the first time, sure, it's a welcome feature. Not for me.
It's even worse now that this is reality and I can't coast through life on a handful of skills the way I did in the game.
It doesn't build proficiency.
Wreaking havoc in there doesn't fulfill any of the conditions for learning new skills.
What am I even supposed to do with a feature whose only remaining benefit is letting me beat on dummies to my heart's content?!
Do I look like a sucker to you?!
Hnngh. Hnnghhhh.
I've got a whole laundry list of things I'd love to say, but if I spit all of it out, who knows what kind of retaliation I'll face, so I'll hold it in — but know this one thing, at least.
It was true before, and it'll be true from now on: in my heart, your official title is permanently fixed as the Pathetic Chief God.
Starting now, I refuse to call you Armadi like a decent person.
Got that?
You pathetic, perverted, useless Chief God!
I was busy clearing away the system windows floating in front of me when Phoebe opened her eyes.
She stared blankly at the ceiling, then slowly lifted her head and looked around. The moment she spotted my face, she stiffened slightly before forcing out a smile.
"Lady Alrn... is this really the real world?"
Yes. It is.
"You're a saintess and you can't even tell that apart? Wow, pathetic. Yep, this is reality, you useless saintess."
She'd just escaped danger, so I should have been relieved — but Phoebe's frozen expression refused to thaw.
Why are you making that face?
Phoebe?
"Pathetic saintess? Why are you making a face like a puppy that got scolded for something it didn't do?"
"Ah... um. Well..."
Fidgeting lips. A flinch in her shoulders every time I said the word "saintess."
Hmm. No way. I mean, it couldn't be... but you know what they say about once in a million.
Could she have figured it out? That she hasn't actually been chosen by Armadi yet?
"The title of saintess... doesn't suit someone like me."
Aaaaaaargh.
This is bad. She figured it out.
That's impossible!
How on earth did she find out?
Aside from me, there's nobody around Phoebe who could have told her.
Her mentor's whereabouts are at stake — there's no way Alsaetin would commit the madness of leaking that.
And Phoebe's power hasn't grown strong enough to crush the Church's meddling into irrelevance either.
I turned the mystery over in my head, then remembered what had been tormenting Phoebe just moments ago and bit my lip.
Dammit. Nakrad. That miserable bastard must have been running his mouth.
Who else could it be —
who else but him, a former experiment subject in the Church of the Main God's orphanage, would know that Phoebe is a fake saintess?
Things have gotten tangled up. Judging by her reaction right now, she seems convinced she's a fake.
Which means there's a good chance her memories from the orphanage have come back.
Sigh. How am I supposed to handle this?
Unlike the saintess in the game, this Phoebe was already being shaken up and down by everything happening around her.
If she realized both her true identity and her past memories, her mind would have shattered completely.
Comfort first.
No — damage control first.
No, wait, before even that—
<Child. Calm thyself.>
How am I supposed to stay calm in THIS situation, old man?! If a mentally shattered Phoebe goes asking the Church about herself, it's going to be an absolute catastrophe!
She was one of my favorite characters to begin with, and after living close to her these past weeks, I've grown genuinely attached. I don't want to watch that character disappear!
Instead of lecturing me, why don't you figure out how we can keep Phoebe under control, Grandpa!
<That child seems stronger than we give her credit for.>
What's that supposed to—
<Look at her. She's troubled, aye, but she does not appear to be wavering, does she?>
...Huh. Good point?
I'd watched Phoebe waver time and again while we traveled together, and I could tell this was different from back then.
Maybe she's just pretending to be strong — but being able to pretend is more than enough.
Having her very existence denied, and still managing to hold herself together? That means her grip on her own mind is holding.
Could Phoebe have grown in her own way over everything we've been through?
Back when we first entered a dungeon together, every emotion would have been written plain across her face.
<It seems we need not drown ourselves in worry.>
Grandpa. Can you take responsibility for those words?
<Of course. I take pride in my eye for reading people.>
Sigh. Fine. You're telling me to trust Phoebe, right? Okay. I'll go with Grandpa's judgment.
But if this blows up in our faces and Phoebe goes off the rails, you do realize the Academy Hazing Tour begins — with you as the star attraction, right? Grandpa.
I took a breath and scanned the room. Right now, no one existed in here but me and Phoebe.
But past that door, I could hear the breathing of the priests milling around out there. They could hear whatever was said in here, too.
Which meant I couldn't talk about Phoebe being a fake saintess. If that conversation leaked, I knew exactly how the Church of the Main God's higher-ups would react.
If those people moved the way they did in the game's scenario, the Phoebe of right now wouldn't survive it.
There was so much I wanted to say to her, so much I wanted to ask — but that could wait until we were somewhere safe.
What I needed to tell her right now was already decided.
If I said this normally, the Mesugaki Skill would obviously twist it into something else, right?
In that case, fine — I'll just say it mesugaki-style from the start.
"Useless saintess ♡ Whatever the opinion of a pathetic, dumb saintess is worth — not my problem, right? ♡ I'll call you whatever I feel like calling you. Got that, you totally-useless saintess? ♡"
Phoebe, I don't know how much of it you heard from Nakrad, but I'd bet you got the parts about me too.
You know I'm connected to Armadi. And that's me — saying I'll call you a saintess.
Don't waver. Don't agonize over it.
"Lady Alrn? What... what do you mean?"
"Curious? ♡ You're curious? ♡ Pffft ♡ Well, too bad ♡ I have zero intention of telling you right now ♡"
"...What?"
"Dumb saintess ♡ You can't even follow that? ♡"
Trust me and wait.
Before long, I'll clear up every question you have.
I'll tell you that you're the saintess chosen by Armadi.
What if the Pathetic Chief God disagrees? How should I know?
If she's that bothered, she can descend in person and announce who she considers the real saintess.
Silence implies consent. That's how it's always worked.
See you later.
"See you later. Unlike a certain totally-useless saintess, I'm a busy woman. I've got places to be."
Wait — Lady Alrn! I still have so much I need to say to you. I haven't even been able to thank you properly, and you're already leaving...
Phoebe scrambled to rise, but Lucy was faster, hand already on the door.
The bishop and the Church of the Main God's people waiting outside the door saw Phoebe standing there, perfectly fine, and their eyes went wide.
"The Saintess has awakened!"
"What a miracle!"
"O Armadi! We give thanks!"
"Lady Alrn, thank you so very much! Thanks to you—"
"Spare me. Move it, gutter-priests. You reek and it's making me sick."
Her expression was contempt, pure and heartfelt, and the Church people hastily scrambled backward. Through the gap they left behind, Lucy stepped out of the room.
The bishop and several priests hurried after her, tripping over themselves to offer their gratitude, but Lucy didn't so much as pretend to listen.
As if to say she hadn't saved Phoebe for their benefit.
"Saintess, are you well?"
"How is your body? Any discomfort anywhere?"
"Are you not thirsty, perhaps?"
Phoebe, still staring blankly at Lucy's retreating back, assured the priests crowding around her that she was fine.
Some time later, after the situation had been smoothed over by the returning bishop and Phoebe was left alone, she leaned against the wall and replayed what Lucy had said before leaving.
Lady Alrn looked at me right up until the end and called me a saintess.
The apostle of Armadi herself.
Could she really not have known? That I'm a fabricated, fake saintess?
Impossible. Someone chosen by Armadi couldn't fail to tell the genuine from the counterfeit.
Lady Alrn knew all of it — and still told me I was someone worthy of being called a saintess.
Her manner of speaking was nothing short of dreadful, and I did feel a flicker of irritation even while hearing something that should have moved me to tears — and yet.
Compared to everything Lucy, apostle of Armadi, possesses, I am overflowing with shortcomings. And she acknowledged me anyway. How could I not be moved?
Lord Ruel. What you once said was true. Lady Alrn's speech may be coarse, but she is, without question, a kind soul.
Phoebe noticed the tearstains spreading across her blanket and wiped her face with her hand.
She had done her best to keep up a composed front, but doing so didn't erase the psychological wounds Phoebe had suffered.
The fact that every memory of her childhood had been a lie.
The fact that she, who had lived her whole life striving to become someone worthy of being a saintess, was in truth a manufactured counterfeit.
Those two facts were more than enough to shake the very foundation of who Phoebe was.
I was never a saintess to begin with, so of course I fell short of one.
I had no reason to feel self-loathing toward my own wretched self.
I can simply become more devout from now on — she could comfort herself with such words all she liked, but wounds like these did not fade so easily.
And yet, what Lucy had said before leaving had granted Phoebe salvation.
Because of it, even now — unable to hold back the tears spilling from her eyes — she could tell herself that she would be all right.
She could hold the certainty that she could become better.
A long while passed before Phoebe finally managed to stop crying. She looked at the blanket ruined by tears and snot, and let out a long sigh.
I suppose that's what a good cry gets you — I do feel a little lighter.
...Lady Alrn told me to wait before she left, didn't she.
She surely has plenty of questions of her own, plenty she wants to say — so that was her way of saying "wait for me."
Don't act on your own; wait for me.
If it's the apostle of Armadi saying it, there must be a reason behind it.
I had been planning to move on my own, but...
Yes. I should wait. If that is what the great Chief God wills. If Lady Alrn has a plan of her own, then I — who was saved by her — should follow.
Then what shall I occupy my thoughts with until then?
Hmm. How about I think about how to properly thank Lady Alrn?
What sort of gift would she like? Now that's a question worth pondering.
I should ask Joy for advice.
If at all possible, I'd love to prepare something I could give her alongside a proper thank-you.
Phoebe pictured Lucy, stumbling over her words, face flushed red as she mumbled out a thank-you — and let out a light laugh, as if she'd never been crying at all.
I don't know if it's possible. But I'll certainly try.