The Masked Nun
To modern people, the three words masked man, woman, and collar might spark nothing more than a fleeting lewd fantasy. But for those living in an era where the buying and selling of human beings thrived in the shadows, the act of placing a collar around another person’s neck carried a weight far too heavy to dismiss lightly.
It was the stuff of tragic romance—the sorrowful tale of a lover sent off to war, captured by the enemy, and reduced to slavery. The kind of worn-out cliché that third-rate novelists could never let go of, the perfect seasoning to add a savory kick to any story.
Which was exactly why Dawna, the most well-read member of the party and someone deeply familiar with the Capital’s many subcultures, let out a shrill scream the moment she saw her old comrade being dragged away with a collar fastened around his neck.
“I’ve heard rumors lately that high-ranking priests and nuns in the Cathedral have been secretly acquiring sex slaves to satisfy their carnal desires! He must have been unable to withstand their advances, caught in some compromising weakness, and forcibly conscripted!”
Her theory was wild, feverish, and laced with leaps of logic. But unfortunately, the only person present capable of pushing back against Dawna’s emotional tirade was her longtime rival, Apis.
“Calm down? How can I possibly calm down?! Our comrade might have been dragged off into slavery! I always knew you were a cold-hearted, bloodless elf, Apis, but I never imagined you were this heartless! I’m disappointed in you!”
“What the hell did you just call me, you bitch?! You think everything that comes out of your mouth is automatically true?!”
Even though Apis was trying her best to appear composed on the surface, she was just as shaken as the rest of them. She had heard the growing sentiment among humans that the clergy’s insistence on premarital purity was nothing more than an outdated, archaic custom. And the rumor that a certain young priest named Lobel Wright had announced his marriage to no fewer than seventeen fiancées had been the final nail in the coffin. The idea that priests were pure had become little more than a stale old wives’ tale in human society.
Because of that, she couldn’t completely shake the torrent of dark suspicions rising within her, like water flooding a leaky boat. Still, she had to maintain at least the appearance of calm, however paper-thin it might be.
“Hero! What do you think about all this?!”
“Y-you idiot! Why are you asking her right now?!”
“Let go of me, Apis! I want to hear the Hero’s opinion on the current situa—”
Clang!
At that exact moment, Dawna’s words died in her throat at the horrifying sight unfolding before her eyes.
“Haa… Haa…”
The Hero had drawn her beloved sword—the one she rarely even touched outside of battle or regular maintenance—and now held it with solemn dignity. Her breathing was measured, as if she were trying to suppress the violent emotions raging inside her. She looked like a volcano on the verge of erupting with molten fury, or a dragon of flame moments away from spewing inferno in every direction. The sheer pressure she radiated made even the simple act of breathing feel dangerous—an instinctive warning rather than a rational one.
“H-Hero…”
“Hero… please calm down. Put the sword away first…”
The crystal orb that could have provided vital clues in tracking the priest had shattered under the force of her killing intent, but that misfortune had already been pushed to the back of their minds. The thick, oppressive aura the Hero emitted with every breath was unlike anything they had ever experienced.
Apis and Dawna, who had fought alongside her for years through countless hardships and battles, had never once seen her display her emotions so openly. In fact, it would be more accurate to say they had never even imagined it was possible.
She had always been the one who scattered warmth and kindness wherever she went, smiling brightly like a benevolent being crafted by the gods themselves from nothing but pure, gentle emotions. She never hated anyone, and no one ever hated her. That was the Hero’s true nature—the conclusion they had reached from everything they had seen, heard, and felt until now.
“Hic! I-I’m sorry!”
The Hero hurriedly sheathed her sword, looking as if she herself couldn’t believe she had drawn it. Her awkward movements and familiar tone finally reassured the others that this was indeed the Hero they knew. Only then did they exhale the breath they had been holding, relieved by the sudden return of normalcy in the air.
I must have seen it wrong, right?
It was a rare, monumental moment in which Apis and Dawna’s thoughts aligned perfectly without the slightest discrepancy.
“Could you please remove that mask?”
She hadn’t seen it wrong.
Apis swallowed hard, seized by an eerie sense of déjà vu as she tried to steady herself. Dawna, who had unconsciously wrapped one arm around her own body, didn’t seem to be faring any better.
“I smelled it. The scent of the priest. Although it has changed slightly from the one I remember, and the strong perfume mixed in afterward made it hard to trace at first… I can say with absolute certainty that the priest was with you, Sister, at least for a moment. That much I can swear to.”
Her tone was firm and calm. It completely contradicted the Hero’s own belief that a hero should always wear a bright, cheerful expression to reassure those around her. Yet none of the people present could blame her for such irrational behavior.
“Hey… Hero. Just calm down…”
But at that moment, Apis grabbed the Hero by the shoulder.
Originally, Apis had considered sending the Hero alone to track down their missing party member. However, after witnessing the sight of their supposedly vanished comrade being dragged away on a leash by some nun, she had completely revised the plan. From that day forward, she insisted that the entire party must work together to find him as quickly as possible.
The Hero’s behavior had become increasingly unsettling. Of course, it was unlikely, but if the Hero ever made a wrong decision, Apis believed there needed to be as many people as possible to restrain her. And her judgment had proven remarkably accurate.
Aside from Apis, Dawna, and Victim combining their full strength in a desperate effort to stop her, there was realistically no one else in the entire Capital capable of holding back the Hero in her current state.
“I’m fine! Apis! There’s no need to worry! I am perfectly calm right now!”
“R-right…”
The Hero responded to Apis’s concern with a gentle smile, but Apis couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that something crucial was missing from that smile.
“We are currently searching for a shameless individual who treats our old comrade like mere property and speaks down to him!”
The more the Hero spoke, the more the perceived temperature in the room seemed to drop. In response, the nun sitting across from her grew increasingly rigid, like a window pane covered in frost. Her trembling fists. Her gaze slowly lowering to the floor. Her quickened breathing. The entire sequence made her look like a wretched criminal awaiting sentencing.
“The person in question is about a handspan taller than me, with sky-blue hair! She appears to be in her early twenties! And she has a rather cold demeanor, according to the description!”
“……”
Thump. Thump.
In the heavy silence that had fallen over the room, the nun’s heartbeat rang out like a poorly played instrument, growing louder with each passing second.
“I am not accusing you, Sister! Suspecting someone without solid evidence is a terrible thing to do! However! Given that I can clearly smell my old comrade’s scent on your body right now, I cannot help but harbor suspicions! Therefore, I ask that you remove your mask to prove your innocence!”
“I… see…”
“Ah! Just so you know, this is not a request. It is a warning!”
The nun’s lips quivered as she barely managed to force out her reply. The Hero, still wearing a spotlessly bright smile while delivering her ultimatum, might have looked peaceful from a distance. But to those close enough to feel the weight of her presence, it was obvious she was struggling to suppress some nameless impulse boiling up from deep within her chest.
“Very well… If that is the case, then I suppose I have no choice… If revealing my unworthy bare face can prove my innocence, then…”
“Thank you for your cooperation!”
Click.
As the nun slowly raised her trembling hand toward her face, both Apis and Dawna shot her puzzled glances.
What? She’s actually taking it off? I thought she’d deny it more, or beg for forgiveness. Did she give up? Or was she really innocent?
Even I think the Hero’s intuition is probably right. But the fact that she’s acting so boldly even while terrified of the Hero’s aura… It’s suspicious.
The moment the nun finished clumsily removing the mask that had been hiding her expression—
“Is this satisfactory?”
All eyes naturally converged on the nun’s face, twisting in varying degrees of shock as the air around them froze solid in an instant.
There was no trace of the shameless criminal they had been desperately searching for. In fact, to be more precise, there wasn’t a single intact feature on the upper half of the nun’s face that could even be called human.
Her face above the nose was horribly disfigured by what were clearly severe burn scars. The only part that still retained any recognizable shape was a pair of clear, pale eyes—half-lidded, quietly observing the people before her with a gaze full of reproach.