It's Too Late to Cling to Me Now, Jeanne
The demons decided to watch the commotion from a distance. There was no rush to join the fight. After all, an entertaining spectacle was unfolding right before their eyes.
The Hero Party's reactions to Atlas's explanation were varied. Some trembled like aspens, others shouted that it couldn't be true, and a few hung their heads as if everything suddenly made sense. It was only natural. An SSS-rank skill that granted overwhelming buffs to the entire party? It was hard to believe, yet everyone knew that the Gauss family's status window was renowned throughout the empire for its unmatched detection accuracy. There was no reason for Atlas to tell such a bizarre lie on Werther's behalf. And above all, deep down, every one of them had suspected something like this.
“Did you really think you all got stronger because you were just that talented?”
“That I wasn't doing anything?”
“If I leave this party, you're all fucked.”
Werther had occasionally confused them with cryptic remarks like these. They'd always dismissed them as angry curses thrown out in frustration. But looking back, it was strange. How had they grown so strong without ever training? It didn't make sense by any standard. They had literally just been breathing, yet their power skyrocketed at an absurd rate. Why? None of them had ever questioned it. They were simply drunk on their own growing strength, believing it to be divine blessing or natural talent. Even when that power suddenly vanished, they could only blame it on the demons' schemes.
Come to think of it, the crushing defeat they suffered at the hands of mere orcs right after parting with Werther hadn't been a coincidence either. The cause of their sudden power-up had been Werther all along.
——The mystery was finally solved. But everyone instinctively realized that the situation had only plunged them into an even deeper pit of despair.
If only I hadn't tormented Werther...
A wave of shared regret swept through the Hero Party's minds. Jeanne, who had been threatening Werther with such confidence just moments ago, shook her head violently as if denying reality.
“Then… you’re saying that the reason I beat Sylvia, and everything that came after… wasn’t because I was a white swan born among a flock of ducks, but simply because I received Werther’s buff?”
Atlas nodded once more, confirming it.
“Why didn’t you say anything!!!”
Jeanne’s voice cracked as she hurled the words at Werther.
“Why did you hide it so desperately!!”
“What? Are you stupid? What exactly did you hear from that Atlas guy? If I so much as opened my mouth about my buff, the skill would deactivate. That’s why.”
“Then! Then you should’ve stayed in the party no matter what to keep the buff active!!”
“Don’t you remember? You people were the ones who drove me out. Who was it that finished me off with the Holy Sword after I got wrecked by goblins and then said their farewells?”
“……………That was His Majesty’s—!”
“So it doesn’t concern you?”
Ever since joining the party, Jeanne had maintained a haughty attitude toward everyone except Leonhart, whom she treated with utmost respect. It stemmed from her belief that her current status existed solely thanks to him. But for the first time, her loyalty toward Leonhart was beginning to waver.
What supported her were two wings: her social position as a member of the Hero Party and her strength as a knight who could cleave demons in two. If she lost even one, she would no longer be able to fly. The happy days of strolling above the clouds were over. She would plummet to the ground… no, straight into the abyss. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how miserable it would be.
“W-Werther. C-come back to the party. Let’s go on adventures together like before.”
“What? Have you lost your mind?”
His gaze was as cold as ice. It wasn’t the first time she had seen an angry Werther. He had always looked at their sluggish progress with displeasure, so his irritated, annoyed expression was a familiar sight. But the Werther before her now was different from anything Jeanne remembered.
Anger is an emotion that requires at least some lingering expectation. When he used to urge them to hurry up and defeat the Demon King, Werther’s eyes had been full of life. But now, his eyes were coldly dead. Even as he faced Jeanne, it was as if he were staring into empty space—his pupils like barren land where no life could take root.
“Did you forget what I said last time? I told you to live as strangers. And now you want me to come back to the party? Why the hell would I?”
“………Th-the Demon King!”
A deathly pale Jeanne tried a shallow trick. Werther only furrowed his brow in disbelief.
“Ha?”
“I-if you come back to the party, this time we’ll march into the Demon Continent just like you wanted! That works for you too, right?! You get something out of it too, don’t you?!”
“………….”
Werther tilted his head at a forty-five-degree angle and crossed his arms. Just as there are funeral rites for those who meet foolish deaths, humans tend to feel a strange fascination when confronted with stupidity beyond imagination. That was why Werther decided to hear Jeanne out for now.
Jeanne spoke without any awareness that she was babbling nonsense.
“Y-you know this already, but joining the Hero Party comes with tons of benefits! No one will look down on you anymore! Wherever you go, you’ll be treated with respect just for being part of the Hero Party. It’s practically treatment on par with royalty. See? It’s not a bad deal for you either, right?”
“Are you actually brain-dead?”
“H-huh?”
“Do you seriously believe the Hero Party is going to survive after this? Can’t you see those demons over there? You’re all already dead. Every last one of you.”
“…Eh? D-dead…?”
Jeanne glanced nervously at the demons watching them from afar and flinched, visibly shrinking. They all looked like formidable opponents, but the one sitting on a tree stump in a robe was on an entirely different level. At the very least, he was no enemy that a pathetic Hero Party could handle.
“W-we don’t have to die! If you come back to our party, we’ll regain our strength too! We can just crush the Eight Protection Army like we used to!”
“No, listen. I have zero intention of joining your party. Whether you all die to the Demon King’s army or not is none of my business. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?”
“…………….”
Jeanne froze with a vacant expression, as if time had stopped. The two letters of the word “death” were now etched clearly above her head like a laurel wreath.
“The expedition led by the great Hero Leonhart ends in annihilation here. Well, even if some of you manage to survive by some miracle, the party’s dissolution is all but certain. You’re in no position to recruit new members right now. What’s the point of drafting rookies when the whole club is going bankrupt?”
“Y-you’re joking, right? The Hero Party is finished… and I’m going to become weak again? Th-then what happens to me?”
“I don’t know. Figure it out yourself.”
“Wait!!”
Jeanne desperately grabbed Werther’s arm as he tried to walk past her. He stopped, albeit reluctantly. His entire demeanor radiated extreme annoyance, as if he were saying he’d at least listen to her last words.
“Listen… Werther…!!”
She had to change his mind somehow. If she failed, the Hero Party was finished. And if the Hero Party disbanded, what would she be? What would be left for her? Nothing. Without the title of Knight of the Hero Party, she would be nothing more than a jobless, nationless loser. And if rumors spread that she had become weak again, she would be completely humiliated. Those who used to torment her might come back. She hated it. She hated it so much. She would rather die than return to the days when she was called a pathetic loser.
“Werther… what if, just suppose… you come back to the party…”
“…………”
Werther’s eyes narrowed with wariness. Jeanne tried her best to make her expression as friendly and gentle as possible, parting her lips. Unfortunately, the more she tried, the more she looked like a petty, servile coward desperately trying to save her own skin.
The princess of a small nation removed her breastplate, disarming herself, then slipped her fingers into the neckline of her blouse and slowly pulled it down. Her goosebump-covered skin and the cold sweat trickling down her cleavage were exposed.
“Y-you can have my body… Every night, you can do whatever you want with me… You can play with me however you like. I-I’m still a virgin, you know…? Even if the country is ruined, it’s still the body of a princess. I’ll accept any kind of perverted play you—”
“Not interested. Is that all you have to say? I’m leaving. Good luck fighting on your own.”
“W-Werther! Wait! Let’s talk a little more! Actually, I’ve liked you for a long time! Won’t you marry me? Huh? Hey! Where are you going?!”
“It smells disgusting. I’m going somewhere with cleaner air.”
“But there are demons over there! Werther? Wouldn’t you rather spend a night with a beautiful princess than those demons? I-I’ll become your woman! That should work, right?”
Even after losing her status as a princess, the only weapon that still shone brilliantly was her beauty. The position of a fallen noble lady already stimulated men’s desire for conquest, but a princess? There was nothing better. And if that princess was an exceptionally beautiful woman, it was even more so.
Countless men had approached Jeanne aiming for her body and beauty. Some were nobles, others were wealthy tycoons. But Jeanne, who feared men, had rejected every proposal. And now, the first time she had ever tried to seduce a man, she was rejected.
It wasn’t shame that drove her now—it was desperation.
“Werther! I’m not saying this because of the situation—I really did love you! Can’t you see my sincerity?”
“Haa… It’s so disgusting I can’t listen anymore.”
“Werther!!!”
At that moment, a massive object flew through the air like a cannonball and slammed Jeanne into the ground. Mapharlok, having finished his treatment, could no longer hold back his desire for revenge and had launched his attack.
“Kyaaaaaaaaaah! Save me! Save me! Werther!!!! Wertherrrrrrrr!! I was wrong! I made a mistake, Lord Werther! Please spare me! Scaryscaryscaryscaryscaryscary…!!!”
Werther never once looked back at Jeanne’s desperate screams.