The Giant's Fall and the Protector's Oath
A moment so surreal it could have been ripped from myth. The instant the giant, who had lived since the dawn of creation, crumpled under a single midday strike from a human—and after that, events unfolded with absurd simplicity.
Terndan collapsed under Vargo's assault and fell back into slumber right there on the spot. The pursuers either failed to evade Vargo's attack and vanished, or survived only to scatter in panic. Watching the scene, Vargo muttered something like,
"Eh, tsk. These young ones these days have no spirit."
Then he returned to the Holy Kingdom.
Vera followed him back to the Holy Kingdom. That had been just two days ago.
In the infirmary of the Great Temple, Vera sat by the bedside, shaking off the thoughts that had plagued him until then as he checked on Rene.
Her face was peaceful in sleep. It was the scene he'd witnessed for two straight days since returning to the Holy Kingdom.
...Fortunately, no backlash.
She had drained every last drop of her divine power, so she'd need time to recover physically, but there were no other permanent damages. Her current deep slumber was simply the result of divine power depletion combined with the exhaustion from their long journey. Rene would wake soon enough.
As Vera's thoughts continued, he suddenly felt his fist clench tight and scowled.
It's my failing.
Because he hadn't protected her more thoroughly, she'd resorted to using her power. Because he'd shown such a vulnerable state, she was still lying here like this.
Not being able to move freely while holding her, having to match Norn's pace—
...Excuses.
They were excuses to cover his own shortcomings. He should have been strong enough to ignore all those trivial issues.
Anyone guarding the Saint should possess that level of power as a matter of course.
As his thoughts deepened, Vera recalled Vargo's strike from two days ago.
The moment he unleashed his divine power, the air around him compressed in near-miraculous pressure. The crimson iron mace formed from that gathered might. An overwhelming menace that evoked death just by looking at it.
The instant he saw it, Vera knew.
I can't win.
No matter how many times he fought—a hundred times—he couldn't beat Vargo.
For Vera, it was a sense of defeat he'd never felt before in his life. He'd never once looked at another person and thought, I absolutely can't win. But the moment he saw that mace, he had no choice but to entertain the idea.
And with it came a nagging doubt that surfaced whenever he thought of the man.
Such a human... dying of old age?
Of natural causes, no less—and a mere six years from now.
Recalling the history of his previous life, Vera snorted derisively and pressed on with his thoughts.
Ridiculous.
It was nonsense. No matter how fleeting life could be, a human who could crush space itself with his divine power wouldn't just drop dead in six years.
Vera was certain.
The public information was fabricated.
He didn't know why. Why Vargo died, or why it was announced as natural causes. There wasn't a scrap of clue about the man, so it was only natural.
But Vera did know what would happen if Vargo died.
His gaze shifted back to Rene.
...War.
A continental war erupting the moment Vargo died. The entire continent rising up to claim the Saint.
Once the absolute guardian backing the Saint vanished, the continent would plunge into a long war over the divine relic manifested in the mortal world: Rene herself.
Vera's eyes darkened as he studied Rene's complexion. Her neatly fallen locks of hair, her tightly shut eyes. Her small breaths as she slept peacefully.
Gazing at her, Vera shifted his eyes to her hand and continued his thoughts.
A war fought over this one tiny hand of hers—a war that only paused with a temporary truce when the Demon King rose.
And Vera knew what choice Rene would make to stop that war.
A fake funeral. She'd surrender her power and erase her existence, hiding away in the slums. Sacrificing herself to halt the conflict.
As his thoughts flowed, Vera laid his hand over Rene's, filling his vision.
Then—
Squeeze.
Strength flowed into that grip, intertwining Vera's rough, callused hand with her small, unblemished one.
A renewed resolve filled Vera's mind.
...I have to stop it.
The war. The wounds she'd suffer from it. The life she'd ultimately abandon.
He had to protect it all.
Warmth seeped in from her small hand. Feeling it soak into him, Vera pondered what he must do to safeguard this warmth.
The way to protect Rene.
The answer came without hesitation.
Might.
That's what he needed. Power so overwhelming that no one would dare target the Saint.
And Vera knew who possessed such might.
Vargo Saintroar.
A long breath escaped Vera's lips as he thought of him. His eyes sank deeper.
Extending the man's life was the surest way, but without knowing how his death came about, betting on that uncertain possibility would be foolish. Even if he saved him, it wouldn't change much. Vargo's time differed from his and Rene's. The man would face death someday—and far sooner than they would.
Shifting his gaze to their intertwined hands, Vera reached his conclusion.
...Me.
He had to become as strong as Vargo.
In that moment, Vera felt a surge of fighting spirit born from the unprecedented thought of surpassing someone.
Honestly, he wasn't confident this time. Vargo's display had been that overwhelming; he couldn't make guarantees.
But even so.
...I must.
Not I can, but I must. That mindset alone was enough to engrave in his heart.
*
Rene pondered.
Should I say I'm awake?
It had already been over ten minutes since she'd stirred. The moment consciousness returned, she'd felt the rough hand and kept silent until now, but the dilemma left her feeling troubled.
There was no question whose hand it was. She knew from the feel alone.
It was Vera's hand. The rough, rugged one she'd held for the past few days.
Feeling the sensation from Vera's hand, Rene continued her dilemma before deciding she should assess the situation first.
She could let him know she was awake and hear the details from him, but Rene preferred grasping things on her own, so she didn't even consider it.
I wonder what the situation is.
Why was Vera holding her hand like this?
As she thought, Rene first checked her own condition.
My body's fine...
More than fine. It felt better than before they set out—overflowing with energy, the best she'd felt in ages.
Where I'm lying...
Next, the place she lay. Soft fabric enveloped her entire body. Vera's steady breathing reached her ears, and with no other sounds, it seemed a safe haven while she slept.
Probably the Holy Kingdom. Likely a bedroom or infirmary.
Why was she here? Rene revisited the question.
Right before collapsing, she'd used her power. Her wish: for herself, Vera, and Norn to escape unharmed.
Putting that together with the current situation...
Ah...
Her manifested power must have worked properly before she fell, allowing their escape. No, that had to be it. She'd definitely sensed some anomaly right before blacking out.
Only then did Rene fully grasp everything.
I saved them.
With her own hands, she'd saved Vera and Norn.
Thump.
Thump.
Her heart raced, satisfaction swelling within. From the fact that she'd saved someone with these hands. From knowing she hadn't been powerless.
Suddenly gripped by the emotion, Rene's fist clenched tight.
Squeeze.
An unconscious motion. Vera's intertwined hand twitched in response.
"...Saint?"
His voice echoed in the room.
Startled, Rene jolted, panic flooding her as she clumsily lifted her eyelids.
"Uh, uuum..."
It was stiff, awkwardly fake—anyone but a fool would see through the act.
But fortunately, Vera—his judgment clouded by worry for her—didn't notice.
"You've awakened? How is your condition?"
Rene inwardly sighed in relief at his reaction. She hadn't been caught pretending to sleep.
Imagine the embarrassment if he found out she'd been awake the whole time, lying still and holding his hand without a word.
Rene had zero desire for such mortification, so with a small inner apology for his worried tone, she opened her mouth.
"Where is this...?"
"The Holy Kingdom. His Holiness was at the border, fortunately, so we made it here safely. More importantly, is your body all right?"
"A bit... stiff."
Her words stumbled. His concern felt too genuine.
Fresh embarrassment surged. Her eyes squeezed shut, and Vera—seeing it—spoke in an even more anxious tone.
"Is it still bad? Please wait a moment. I'll fetch a priest right aw—"
"No! I'm fine! Really!"
A sharp yelp burst from Rene. Heart pounding at Vera's overreaction to her tiniest movement, she continued.
"My body feels great! M-much better than in the village! Way better! Is there some secret to it?!"
She babbled to emphasize she was okay. Vera let out a long breath, sat back down, and replied.
"You received healing from the priests, so it's to be expected. Divine healing infuses vitality into the body."
"Ah, aha...!"
Rene nodded slightly at the explanation, a smile tugging at her lips. Her head turned toward his voice.
"So... how many days was I out?"
"Two days."
Two days. Surprise colored her voice.
"That long?"
It felt like she'd just woken from a normal nap.
"Yes. It's truly fortunate you woke up so healthily. His Holiness and the other faithful were all very worried."
"The faithful?"
"Yes, the other Apostles and the priests residing in the Holy Kingdom all worried for you."
"Ah..."
His words made her belatedly realize she'd entered the Holy Kingdom. She'd sworn never to set foot here due to her resentment toward the gods, yet here she was.
A situation that should bring anxiety or displeasure. Yet her heart was surprisingly serene.
"...I see."
As she murmured, Rene fidgeted with their clasped hands. Warmth and slightly rough skin transmitted through.
Is it because of this?
Was this why she felt so calm?
The thought brought a wry chuckle.
What am I even saying?
What did holding hands have to do with her peace of mind? The silliness made her giggle softly. Shaking it off, she turned to Vera with a question about what lay ahead.
"What happens to me now?"
"For now, focus on recovery. After that... We're selecting personnel to attend you, so once that's settled, your schedule will begin in earnest. I apologize for the unsatisfactory answer..."
"Don't apologize."
"...Yes."
What was he apologizing for now? Rene snickered at his demeanor, then casually added as she thought, I'm really becoming the Saint now.
"...Can I do it?"
A natural worry. Could a blind woman who'd never left her tiny rural village—a bungler who couldn't wield her power properly and collapsed at every turn—handle such a grand role?
At her question born of doubt, Vera answered in a tone firm to the point of resolve.
"You will become more suited to that position than anyone else."
"What if...?"
"No 'what ifs'."
Rarely cutting her off, his response made her insides tingle oddly, and she tacked on another question.
"Because you'll make me that way, Sir Knight?"
"Yes."
His reply carried more conviction than her own. Wondering how he could be so sure, Rene felt that belief steady her, nodding faintly.
"...I need to get better soon."
Strength entered her grip, deepening the warmth of their held hands. The warmth from someone who believed in her eased her anxiety just a little.