The Second Villainess — Saintess Arit Ladaine
"Halt."
Esmela makes certain that even the last embers clinging to the building have died out, then releases her rain magic.
"My lady, you aren't hurt anywhere?"
The zombies never managed to lay so much as a fingertip on her, of course, but I ask after her all the same, if only for courtesy's sake.
She stares straight through my face—and then...
"...Can't you tell by looking?"
Once again she folds her arms and whips her head the other way.
Still sulking, then.
In more ways than one, what a remarkable young lady.
Well. That willful streak of hers is part of the charm, I'll give her that.
"Even so, you startled me. We're a fair distance from the square, and yet we ran into them... Don't tell me the zombies have appeared somewhere other than Pirke Square..."
If they have, then this is no longer a matter of them spreading outward from the square as a single great point. Like ink bleeding through paper, they would be breaking out in other places at the same time and spilling into still more of the city—and that would mean they might seize the whole of the royal capital, Erka, faster than I had ever expected.
What worries me most of all is the safety of House Herta.
Before we met the zombies here, I had let myself believe the disaster in the square couldn't have reached the mansion yet. But if they are erupting in many places at once, there is a real chance they have already stretched their claws toward the estate.
"My lady, I think we ought to return to the mansion at once."
At the suggestion, Esmela nods, her face grave.
"Yes. We need to see what state the mansion is in, and quickly."
With that she sets off at a hurried pace. The high heels make her stride look uncomfortable, though.
"My lady, perhaps it would be better if I carried you again..."
"No. You rest, even a little. We don't know when those things will come at us."
"...Understood. Another ten minutes and we'll be on the mansion grounds, so if you can bear the discomfort just a little longer..."
—GRAAAAAAH!
"!"
"It can't be...!?"
An ominous howl tears through the quiet street once more.
"Where is it this time?"
I sweep my eyes in every direction, hunting for the source.
—Kyack!
—Krak, kraaak, kak!
—Grrrrk...
"...Tsk!"
Esmela's face twists, and she clicks her tongue.
There is no need to hunt for the source. This time the zombies are pouring in from every side. They burst from the alleys between the buildings lining the road; when I look back, another pack is already chasing us, and ahead of us a swarm even larger than the last comes charging in a mass. Esmela and I are caught in the middle of the street, surrounded. So many are rushing us that I cannot even count them.
Instinct warns me. This is truly dangerous.
Esmela seems to feel it too. She turns her head from side to side, desperately searching for a way out.
"My lady, Herta's Flame..."
"No. They're closing in from every direction. Use that power to burn them, and we'll be the ones trapped in the fire."
I asked only on the chance, and the answer is exactly what I expected. Then there is only one way left.
"We break through head-on."
"How?"
"Raise walls of earth magic around us and keep them from getting in. Leave the front open. I'll hold off whatever comes at us from that side, and while I do, you use the same flame magic as before and burn the front clear so we have a way out."
"You think you can manage that in the state you're in?"
I know. My mana is scraped so thin I can't say how many more seconds the flame sword will last. But...
"There's no time to weigh the odds! This is the only way we have left—"
Even as I argue with her, the encirclement closes on our throats at a terrifying speed. At last the distance shrinks until those hideous faces are plain to see, and—
"Herta's Flame..."
Just as Esmela reaches for her last resort—
"Lady Esmela, you must not use that power yet."
A gentle voice cuts cleanly through the zombies' howls. She is not shouting, and the words come from some distance away, and yet they ring as clear as a whisper at the ear—merciful, and unmistakable.
"O Chief God Juten, O thirty-six guardian gods, and among them Sigal, guardian god who deigned to extend a hand to this frail seeker. I dare to ask this of you: send down your light."
Fwaaah!
"Wh-what—what is that?"
A hemisphere of light appears out of nowhere and covers the sky, and I stammer in spite of myself.
"I dare to wish this of you: save those who have strayed onto the path of corruption."
Vmmm—
A moment later, countless spears of light rise from that curtain of radiance.
"I dare to beseech you: grant me, in your stead, the power to lead them onto the path of light!"
Pap-pap-pap!
And they fall.
—Kwek!
—Guhk!
—KYAAAAK!
Golden spears pour down without pause, like a torrential rain, and drive straight into the zombies' heads. The wondrous part is that, of all those spears, not one touches Esmela or me. All around us the zombies that had been charging in are run through by spears of light and crumble away—a solemn sight unfolding in every direction.
I whip my head around in a panic, and Esmela's face catches my eye.
"...So it was you."
Astonishingly, she is not flustered at all. If anything, she is smiling, as if she is glad.
"My lady, what in the world is this...?"
"Hmm. Someone you might know yourself."
"What?"
I am still blinking at that cryptic answer when the hemisphere overhead begins to fade.
Paat!
At last the dome of light vanishes, and so do the spears that pierced the zombies. All that remains around us are countless corpses sprawled across the ground, their heads run through.
Step. Step.
Through the hush comes the quiet sound of footsteps, from the direction we had been heading. I narrow my eyes, straining to see who it is.
"...Ah!?"
And by the time she draws near, I cry out before I can stop myself, startled by who she turns out to be.
The gentle voice that filled the street just now was one I know. I know the plain nun's habit on the figure walking toward us, and the long golden hair streaming behind her. Those clear eyes, shining gold, still gleam with a kindness like cut gems. I remember, vividly, the vicious thorn-studded club in her hand, and the sight of her swinging it to purify evil the old-fashioned way—by hitting it.
"May Lord Mitri bless this meeting."
She comes up before us, sets the club on the ground, closes her eyes, and laces her fingers in a devout prayer of greeting. Even that is a gesture I saw time and again in my previous life—so familiar it is almost dear.
"It's been a while, Arit."
Esmela smiles at the woman before her and offers the greeting as if she is glad to see her.
"I am truly glad to see you again as well, Lady Esmela."
The woman called Arit answers with a warm smile.
And so the other villainess of Romance in Arkesia: Four Jewels, the saintess of the Ladain faith, Arit Ladaine, descends before my very eyes.
The Ladain faith. In name and in truth, it is the foremost religion of the Takma Continent, the state faith of the Kingdom of Arkesia and of many other nations of this land.
Its saintess, Arit Ladaine. Chosen by the chief god Juten and by one of the thirty-six guardian gods, she was born with holy power stronger than that of any other cleric, and with that power she serves as the gods' proxy—putting monsters to rest and protecting the weak. The eleventh saintess of the Ladain faith is the second villainess of Romance in Arkesia: Four Jewels.
I sift through memory and call up her official profile.
The saintess of the Ladain faith, known to everyone in the Kingdom of Arkesia, and to anyone living wherever the faith's influence reaches.
From childhood she has taken part in numerous subjugations of high-rank monsters as both saintess and hunter, distinguishing herself with brilliant achievements.
Wishing to study many fields and broaden her experience, she enrolled at the Royal Arkesia Academy.
In ordinary days she is a compassionate saintess, and a beauty who kindles a guilty thrill in the male students. But behind that face, an unexpected secret lies hidden...?
It has been seventeen years since I played Roina, and still I remember it vividly. Whenever I had a spare moment I went back over not only the game itself, but every official source related to it that I could recall. That is the only reason I can.
And now, four years after the ending of the main story, Arit—grown into a proper adult—descends before us as the savior who delivers Esmela and me from the zombies.