The Saintess of the Ash River
Cedric Rowell gritted his teeth.
'This is impossible... Even I barely survived that mental trauma...'
It had ended without Del Roan even showing a hint of struggle.
All that remained was Roan, casually thumping the breastplate as if asking if it was finally over.
'Does he not have any painful memories? Can such a human even exist? If so...'
Did that mean Roan had conquered it?
Was he, Cedric, going to lose that armor?
He clenched his jaw.
He bit down so hard his teeth dug into his lower gums, drawing a slow trickle of blood.
Indeed, Roan showed no intention of taking the armor off.
"Hmph... Do you like it that much? I suppose you would, having witnessed its power. It dragged my scrawny body all the way up to that level."
To Rowell, who spoke with blustering bravado, Roan simply shook his head in response.
"No. Even if I like it, I'm not taking it. This is your gear."
But.
"Not yet. I need to make sure it learns to behave first."
With those final words, the etiquette training inside the forest resumed.
"Here, take it back, Rowell."
Having finished the etiquette training and applied first aid, Roan held out the armor.
Somehow, both of them seemed far more subdued than usual.
The armor, and Rowell himself.
"But remember. You have to conquer this armor before you can conquer any monster."
Rowell silently took it from him.
As the cold metal wrapped around his body, the quiet power he thought he had lost surged back to life.
And at that exact moment, a familiar whisper wormed its way into his ears.
'No one will remain by your side but me.'
'You must be alone. That is the only way to survive.'
'Everyone hides their true intentions. Eventually, they will use you and cast you aside.'
Through the haze of whispers, he saw Roan holding out a hand.
"Now, let's go together, Cedric Rowell. With you, our frontline's destructive power will skyrocket."
Rowell did not take the outstretched hand. He only stared at Roan.
In his mind, the memories of their battle and the armor's brutal etiquette training flashed by.
That strength, which seemed to transcend humanity itself.
'If that bastard wanted to... he could easily strip this armor from me again.'
No, he undoubtedly would.
Because the whispers told him so.
The extinguished light in his eyes flared back to life.
And then—
Crack!
His body lunged forward without warning.
He drove his knee straight into Roan's side, right where his liver was.
A vital point exposed, completely unguarded.
Even for someone as monstrously strong as Roan, it was a blow that made him stumble.
"What?! You crazy bastard! What do you think you're doing?!"
Startled by the sudden turn of events, Jane leaped to her feet and began chanting a spell.
But the target of her curses had already vanished into the distance.
The clanking of iron rapidly faded, and silence reclaimed the forest.
It had all happened in the blink of an eye.
Roan belatedly looked in the direction Rowell had fled.
"Ah. He got away."
His voice carried no real hint of regret.
Hearing that, Jane's tension dissolved as well.
"...How did you not see that coming? I thought you knew everything."
"I told you, I don't know everything. Ah, so that's what he was like in the beginning..."
Roan spoke, lost in reminiscence once more.
Rowell, too, had been one of the members who joined after seeing the expedition recruitment notice in his past life.
He had possessed a solitary aura when he first joined back then, but he hadn't been quite this twisted.
He must have mellowed out a lot over the years.
"But it's fine. I have this."
Roan showed her something.
It was a wriggling fragment of armor.
"That looks disgusting... What is it?"
"A piece of the armor. With this, I'll be able to tell if Rowell is in danger or not."
"...You're going to keep worrying about a guy who betrayed you and ran away?"
Jane asked, utterly dumbfounded.
"Why bother? We can just give up on him and find another comrade."
"No."
The answer was instantaneous.
"This time, I want everyone to make it to the end in one piece."
This answer, too, was difficult for her to comprehend from her perspective of living in the present.
"Well... I agree it's better to go together if possible, but it might be better to let a guy like Rowell go for now."
He was a lone wolf by nature.
Since he had only opened his heart at the very end in the past, it might actually be better to let him grow on his own for now.
"Besides, thanks to Rowell, I've decided who we should look for next."
"...Who?"
"I'll tell you when we get back to town."
Although she wanted to hear it right away, Jane also agreed that they needed to get out of the forest.
...Because it was getting dark.
And so, the two quickly descended the mountain and returned to a nearby town.
Seated in a quiet corner of a tavern, Roan laid out the information on their next target.
"We're going to recruit a priest."
Someone who borrowed divine power to heal wounds.
At the mention of the profession, Jane's brow furrowed deeply.
"What? A priest? You're bringing one of those annoying bastards into our party?"
It was only natural for her to detest them.
After all, things like healing and piety were originally the exclusive domain of the nobility.
"I mean, I get it. Now that I know you actually bleed and can get hurt, we need a healer. But I still hate those hypocrites. They hoard regenerative powers and demand money for them."
"Do you think the person I'm looking for is a miser too?"
"Well—"
Jane couldn't answer easily.
Herself and Cedric Rowell.
Both of them were clearly far from ordinary.
The next person might be of a similar breed.
"I'll tell you in advance, this priest is a bit different."
"Different how?"
"She uses her power without holding anything back."
Saying so, Roan pulled out a stack of newspapers.
They ranged from issues printed six months ago to relatively recent ones.
It was quite a comprehensive collection.
[Erian Belgard Bestows Blessings Upon the Slums...]
[Holy Church Declares 'No Affiliation'...]
[Belgard Vows to Care for the Underprivileged in the Slums]
[Exiled from the Holy Church]
"...Exiled for helping the slums? Huh. I guess not all of them are completely rotten to the core."
A sliver of goodwill.
But Roan already knew.
He knew that this priestess was the natural enemy of this mage, who had clashed with her more than any other comrade in their past life.
"Well, fine. So? Where are we going?"
Instead of answering, he pointed to the most recent newspaper.
[Erian Belgard Departs for the Ash River]
"Ugh... I'm really experiencing all sorts of things with you. Now I have to smell rotten water too?"
Jane pinched her nose shut as she surveyed her surroundings.
"They call this the Ash River... but it's literally just toxic wastewater."
"Yeah. It's a river in name only."
Roan scanned the murky landscape.
The viscous waves were a dark, muddy black, completely incapable of reflecting any light.
Black oil slicks and putrid foam drifted along the sluggishly crawling current.
In the distance, children could be seen laughing as they scooped up the toxic water and carried it back to their shanties.
Rather than a place for humans to live, it looked like a noose keeping those who had been cast aside barely tethered to life.
"Still... the people seem surprisingly cheerful."
Just as Jane said.
The faces of the people living here were bright.
Beside the river reeking of decay, people laughed and sang merrily, filling the air with lively sounds.
Starving children danced with joy, and an old man, coughing up blood-flecked phlegm, smiled as he watched them.
And right in the middle of it all, someone appeared, her voice thick with nagging.
"Wait! I told you to stay still! How many times do I have to tell you to rest if you're tired?! And you, elder, please go inside! What is there to be so happy about when you're coughing up blood?!"
The one who brought light to this dreadful landscape. It was Erian Belgard.
"...Don't start crying again, okay?"
Jane looked at Roan.
Given his usual pattern, she fully expected him to burst into tears of emotion.
'Huh? What's this? He's not crying this time?'
But there were no tears in his eyes.
Instead, his expression was more deadly serious than ever before.
"...Cheerful?"
He repeated the word Jane had just used.
He asked as if to confirm it, even though he was seeing it with his own eyes.
"You can see it too, can't you? Everyone is smiling."
"They shouldn't be cheerful."
What on earth was he talking about?
Telling people who were smiling happily that they shouldn't be smiling.
"This is a place that shouldn't be bright yet."
Roan's gaze drifted forward.
Insects landed on the river's surface, and sticky bubbles popped over the filthy water.
Yet, even all of this seemed to represent a moment of pure happiness to them.
"I said, stay still! Drink the water I brought, not that river water!"
Looking at the scene again after hearing Roan's words, things seemed slightly different.
Children playing around, completely ignoring the blessings they were receiving.
Elderly people ignoring clean water, trying to plunge themselves into the filthy river.
And Belgard, busily moving among them all alone.
She hadn't noticed at first, but looking closely now, it was an incredibly bizarre sight.
And there was one thing in particular that amplified this sense of strangeness.
'Del Roan is actually this serious?'
It was the look in Roan's eyes.
For this monster, who usually brushed off any crisis with a casual "well, things happen," to react like this was unprecedented.
"Hey, Del Roan. What's wrong? What do you mean they shouldn't be cheerful?"
Unable to contain her confusion and anxiety, Jane finally asked.
Right at the moment Roan was about to answer her question—
Splash!!
"Kyaaaah!"
The sound of someone diving into the thick, filthy water.
A single, sharp scream.
But the lively laughter that followed it was deeply chilling.
Rubbing the goosebumps on her arms at the madness of the slums, Jane shuddered.
"Crazy... They actually jumped into that river— Hey?! Del Roan!!"
She shrieked in shock.
Before she knew it, Roan had bolted forward and plunged into the toxic river without a second thought.
A moment later, Roan emerged, dragging up the person who had sunk to the bottom of the wastewater.
It was the old man who had been coughing up blood and laughing just moments ago.
Blegh, cough!
Having dragged him out with great effort, Roan began to gag and retch.
"Hey, hey...! Roan! Even for you, this is too much! What is going on?! Why?!"
Disregarding the filth getting on her, Jane patted his back.
Barely catching his breath, Roan spoke to her.
"...This is different from my memories."
The flow had changed.
"An early destruction is coming."
A manufactured god was approaching.
"We must stop it."
A grim determination, unlike anything seen before, etched itself onto his face.