114. Traces

The wet, squelching sound of viscous liquid soaking the bathroom floor. A sound that couldn't even become a scream, escaping through tightly clenched teeth and a rough gag. A figure writhing in agony on the blood-soaked floor.

Always infuriating, annoying, prickly, sensitive.

But confident, upright, cool, and despite being a fellow woman, someone who made her heart race strangely.

Eliarnes.

She was pouring blood from her entire body.

"Ah, ugh..."

Stella.

Could not comprehend the situation before her.

Having returned to the academy, she recalled what she had done before slipping outside. The scheduled message. It was no different from a will.

It was something that absolutely must not be delivered.

So, dragging her exhausted body, she had searched through the grass. She found Eliarnes's device and tried to cancel the scheduled message.

But... was it okay to touch it carelessly?

It might contain her private life.

Of course, she was... curious. She was curious who Eliarnes exchanged messages with, who she called.

But she couldn't just open it on a whim. If she imagined someone else snooping through her own device, she absolutely hated the thought.

Surely Eliarnes would feel the same.

Let's not touch it carelessly.

Having reached that conclusion, Stella decided to cancel the reservation in front of Eliarnes.

When she came to Eliarnes's room, the door was slightly ajar.

She could definitely sense someone inside. She could hear rustling and clattering sounds. But no matter what she was doing, Eliarnes didn't answer when Stella knocked and called out.

Had a thief broken in...?

In her impatience, Stella opened the door and entered.

And found her in the bathtub. Undressed, wrapped in a towel. Eliarnes, with a gag in her mouth.

It wasn't a thief? What on earth? What was she doing? Could she actually have that kind of taste? The moment she thought that.

Blood burst from Eliarnes's face. Bright red, dark red, black blood sprayed in all directions.

It kept pouring, and pouring, and pouring. From her eyes, nose, mouth, ears—from every opening in her body, blood poured out.

In that instant, her thoughts stopped. The heart that had been beating a little fast the moment she saw Eliarnes seemed to stop, and even breathing became difficult.

The scene unfolding before her eyes was so gruesome it was hard to believe it was real.

"E-Eli... arnes...?"

She called her name. No prickly answer came back. The only thing she could hear was a moan that couldn't even form a sound.

"Wh-what do I... what do I do...? Th-this..."

Sounds. The sounds—the squelching sounds, the sound of bones tearing, the sound of skin bursting, the sound of blood vessels snapping, the breath that couldn't escape because her vocal cords had collapsed.

She kept hearing them.

It didn't end. It got worse. It got louder.

Now she couldn't even hear sounds anymore. The only things she could hear were sounds that should never come from a human body.

The endlessly pouring blood eventually reached Stella's feet where she had collapsed. A horrific ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smell stabbed at her nose. Her whole body trembled, and even though she wanted to move, no strength entered her body.

She forced herself to move. She whipped her body, soaked in helplessness. She bit her tongue to move her body. She crawled on all fours toward Eliarnes's hand.

The blood-soaked hand. A hand that seemed to have lost its shape.

She couldn't grasp it. Afraid that if she touched it wrong, it might shatter. Afraid it would hurt. She couldn't dare touch it.

"Ugh, hic... Wh-what do I do. What do I do..."

She couldn't understand why, why this had suddenly happened.

Had this happened while fighting?

She remembered how Eliarnes had looked the same as always, then suddenly her aura had changed.

She had become overwhelmingly strong. Strong enough to unilaterally push back an 8th Circle Wizard in an instant.

It was as if she had become a different person.

There was no way such power came without a price.

Then this—what was happening now—was it the price of that power?

Because she had fought to save her.

Because of me.

Had Eliarnes ended up like this because of me?

That thought, this catastrophe, her own helplessness, the guilt—they became a sharp blade carving into her chest.

"H-hic... hic... Ah, ugh... N-no..."

With trembling hands, she pulled out every Potion from her bosom. She opened the lids and carefully poured them into Eliarnes. She didn't heal.

"P-please... please... p-please..."

Instead, the blood-soaked body spat the Potions back out. Each time, her convulsions grew worse.

From that point on, she couldn't maintain rational thought. The body she had been too afraid to even touch—she unconsciously pulled it into her arms.

She held Eliarnes as she thrashed in her embrace.

The body writhing in her arms was small. Light, and far too thin.

The pulse she felt from that body was faint. Her breathing seemed like it could stop at any moment, and her blood-soaked eyes had no focus.

What could she do? There was nothing she could do.

She could only desperately hope that Eliarnes's pain would end quickly.

How long, how long had passed like that?

An hour, two hours. Perhaps an eternity.

She didn't know.

"...Hey."

A voice, cracked and barely intelligible, came from her arms.

"...Stop, sniveling... and put me, in the tub..."

With breaths that sounded like they could stop at any moment, Eliarnes spoke.

"E-Eliarnes! Y-you... suddenly, hic... are you okay? Huh? Are you, are you alive? Wh-what do I do... hic... I-I'm sorry, I'm... I'm sorryyy..."

"Ugh, shit... don't yell, just... put my damn body, in the tub..."

"Th-the tub? O-okay... ugh, hnnngh...!"

No strength entered her body. Still, forcing herself, Stella lifted Eliarnes and slowly carried her body.

"Ah..."

"Sploosh—"

She dropped her. Eliarnes's blood-soaked body was far too slippery, and Stella, who had been crying her eyes out, had completely lost the strength in her hands.

"Aaaaaah! N-no!!"

*****

"...Hey. If you're gonna cry, go cry in your own room."

"Hic... hic..."

The backlash had ended, and all my wounds had healed. My condition wasn't too bad either. If I slept and woke up, I felt like I could run right away.

Combat would be too much, though.

Still, the good news was that the backlash was less severe than expected. Was it because this body's performance was good?

It hurt far less than the backlash I'd experienced in my Past Life, and it ended incredibly quickly.

For a moment—just a brief moment—I thought I might drown after slipping into the tub, but Stella grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up, so I barely survived.

Stella's assassination attempt was far more dangerous than ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Samaella's Ideal Manifestation. I almost actually died.

Anyway.

I showed her a side of me I didn't want seen.

Why, of all times, did she have to come then?

According to Stella, between sobs, it was because of the scheduled message. She said she came to find me because she didn't feel right opening it alone.

So she arrived at my door, but it was open and no one answered when she called, so she came in thinking a thief might have broken in.

And then she witnessed that scene.

I'd known it for a while, but she's pointlessly diligent.

Anyway, calming Stella down took an incredibly long time.

When she asked if I'd been trying to kill her, she cried like she was about to stop breathing the moment she heard me curse. It was so pitiful.

Her face was deathly pale, her hands and feet were trembling, and she was barely breathing, so I got scared too, wondering if she might actually die.

I spent nearly three hours babying her like that.

Only then did Stella come to her senses and pull me into a tight embrace.

My naked body.

Since we're both women, showing her isn't... not entirely fine... but still, embarrassing is embarrassing.

"...Fuck."

Thinking that I showed that sight... to a young girl, it's humiliating.

"I'm sorryyy... hic, hic... sniff..."

"What are you always sorry about?"

"Because of me... hic, because of me you ended up like that, waaaaah...!"

"Why would it be because of you? How many times have I said it's not... tch, fine. Whatever. Think whatever you want."

I let out a deep sigh and sat up.

The backlash was over, but a pain like my whole ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠body was being tanned remained.

Still, it was bearable.

"So, the scheduled message. Did you cancel it?"

"Y-yeah... I, hic... did. I cleaned... the bathroom too, hic... and cleaned the room, too..."

"Good. Well done."

"I... I showered too..."

"Why would you shower in my room? Actually, why are you even telling me that?"

"Because you, hic... because you hate it..."

"...Okay. Well done. You're the best."

After laying my healed body on the bed, Stella voluntarily cleaned the bathroom and the room until they were spotless.

A girl who can't even clean her own body properly cleaned my room immaculately. It's ridiculous.

"Now go to your room. I'm going to sleep."

"G-go...?"

"Yeah. I'm tired."

Stella, her eyes swollen and puffy, opened and closed her mouth for a moment before nodding and getting up.

"Are you... really okay now?"

"I said I'm fine. And I told you it wasn't because of you. Stop overthinking and go."

"...Okay."

With those final words, Stella shuffled away. With a click, her presence disappeared, and I slowly got up and stood by the window.

My head... is a mess.

Of course, it's not because I showed Stella that side of me.

The cherry blossom.

I gently stroked the cherry blossom resting quietly on the windowsill.

I recalled the vision I'd seen when I touched it at my grave. It wasn't a long vision. It was a very short, quiet vision.

But it was horrifyingly intense.

Clear and vivid.

The smell, the texture, the sounds—everything was exactly like reality.

Right. It wasn't a vision.

"...Reality."

It was reality.

In that vision. In that scenery.

Luna and Paulo were there.

Luna.

Her right arm was severed, and scars were carved across her entire body. They weren't ordinary scars.

Sacred. Stigmata.

They covered her whole body.

Blood didn't flow. Instead, pure white Holy Power flowed like blood. Her skin was pale, her one remaining left hand was cold, and her face held no life.

Paulo.

A sword was impaled through his chest.

It wasn't an ordinary sword either. Humble. The Sacred Sword.

The Sacred Sword pierced through Paulo's chest. The light it had emitted with every swing was gone. The tip of the blade was broken, and the blade itself was cracked.

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠along those cracks, Paulo's body was also fissured. Cracks that looked like he would shatter if touched.

The moment I saw it, I instinctively understood why those idiots were like that.

The owners of the Sacred Relics.

The Hero and the Saintess.

The sealed Demon King.

The price for it.

"...Stupid bastards."

Luna and Paulo had offered their own bodies as the price to seal the Demon King. They weren't dead. They were clearly breathing, clearly existing.

Why on earth. Why were those bastards like that?

I couldn't hold onto that question for long.

There was no time to wallow in sentiment, no time to organize my thoughts.

Click—the closed door opened.

Who now? Actually, how did she open a locked door?

I turned my head.

"Eliarnes...? What the—"

It was Stella. In one hand she clutched a pillow, and in the other she held a lunchbox and the key to my room.

Stella, looking shocked, hurried over.

"Why are you crying...?!"