Too Simple to Be True
Ratel quickly realized there was nothing in the room to light it. The black blade of the sword was glowing, as if trying to bewitch anyone who looked at it.
"L-Let me go! If you want to die, die by yourself!" The skinny priest thrashed wildly, completely heedless of his robes getting ruined. His arms, thin as dry twigs, flailed and struck blindly at Ratel's hands, but he was only dragged deeper into the room with brutal force.
"How does a holy relic kill people? If you don't answer, I'll just have to throw you in to find out." At Ratel's calm question, the priest tried to press himself against the wall, desperate to get as far from the sword as possible.
"It eats them! It swallows them whole! So let me go, damn it! You don't want to die either, do you?! Let's get out of here together!" Ratel clicked his tongue at the man's incoherent babbling about an inanimate object devouring living things. Dragging the useless priest along, Ratel approached the sword. Then, he threw him right at it. Ratel waited to see the true nature of the priest's terror.
"Aaargh!!! Help me! Please!! Please...!!" But nothing happened.
"U-Ugh..." Yet, as if under attack by some invisible force, the skinny man began to crawl backward, only to freeze completely a moment later, as though grabbed by an unseen hand.
"What's wrong with him now? Shouldn't we save him?" Lia, her hands still bound, asked in a panic.
"I told you to stay outside. Why did you come in?" Ratel's annoyed tone made Lia's eyebrows twitch.
"I came to ask you to untie this. I need to run away too, you know," Lia said, wriggling her bound arms.
"You don't need arms to climb stairs."
"Damn it, what if someone tries to catch me again out there?" Deciding she wasn't worth answering, Ratel turned his gaze back to the priest collapsed on the floor. "Do whatever you want."
"Why is that priest just lying there anyway? No matter how I look at it, that sword is bad news... Wait, what is that?" Lia, who had been gesturing toward the priest with her chin, stared blankly. Something was swallowing the priest. Something that looked like a black mist.
"So that's what he meant by eating," Ratel said casually. Meanwhile, the skinny priest vanished entirely into the black mist. Terrified by the sight, Lia called out to Ratel. "Hey, Ratel! Let's go get help. Let's get out of here together."
"..." Ratel stood perfectly still, as if deaf to her voice. Lacking the hands to grab him, Lia kicked his leg. "I'm telling you, something is wrong! Let's get away from there!"
Get away? After how long I've waited for this moment? Ratel brushed off her nonsense and took a step closer. The priest's form had completely vanished, and the black mist writhed as if searching for its next target. Then, it stretched a chilling tendril toward Ratel. Even in that moment, Ratel was leisurely thinking of something else. For instance, the wrinkled face and voice of the Elder looking down at him.
Ratel reached his hand out toward the sword and the priest. Lia's eyes widened in surprise, thinking he was risking his life to save the priest, but she quickly realized her mistake. A cluster of white light burst forth from Ratel's hand. Watching this, Lia's eyes grew so wide it seemed they might pop right out of their sockets.
"W-What?! What are you doing?!" Ignoring Lia's startled stammering, Ratel drew power from deep within his body. He had heard until he was sick of it just how incredible these holy relics were. The face of the Elder flashed in his mind—the man who had constantly whipped him into shape, telling him he had to become stronger than this to destroy them. He remembered all the days he had spent waiting for this very moment.
Was it because his journey had turned out differently than planned? He felt none of the excitement or ecstasy he had expected. There was only a dull exhaustion, the feeling of ticking off a chore that had to be done. Having absorbed Ratel's power, Sierra's Sword began to lose its dark glow. As its pitch-black luster faded, the weapon gradually reverted to an ordinary—no, a downright dilapidated—sword.
It was over far too easily. If destruction is this simple, what on earth have I been training for all this time? Feeling a mixture of emptiness and irritation, Ratel slowly walked over and picked up the now-ordinary sword. Nothing happened. When he remembered that he had participated in that bizarre tournament just for this, his feelings leaned heavily toward irritation.
Finally, to destroy the sword completely, Ratel laid it down on the floor. The blade settled quietly against the stone. Though metal met stone, there was no loud clang—only a heavy silence. In that moment, Ratel realized something. At some point, his surroundings had become dreadfully quiet. He raised his head and looked around. No one was there. Both Lia and the priest had vanished.
Without hesitation, Ratel thrust his own sword into Sierra's first holy relic lying on the floor. As if mocking him, Sierra's Sword deflected Ratel's blade. A faint smirk played on Ratel's lips. Right. It wouldn't make sense if it were too easy.
Lia stared down at Sierra's Sword, which lay abandoned on the floor. It was exactly as the skinny priest had said. The sword devoured people. The moment Ratel unleashed that mysterious light, the black mist that had enveloped the priest shifted its target to Ratel.
"Kyaaaah!!! Ratel!!!" Terrified, Lia screamed his name, but he stood frozen just as the skinny priest had, staring blankly until the black mist swallowed him whole.
Only after Ratel's form had completely vanished did Lia take a hesitant step toward the sword. Neither the priest nor Ratel was there. All that remained in the room was her helpless self, unable to use her arms properly, and the now-lifeless sword.
"W-What is this?" Lia muttered, dazed, but there was no one to answer. Realizing she couldn't just stay like this, she crept closer to the sword. Even as she neared it, no black mist emerged. It was just a piece of junk metal. She sank to her knees, awkwardly turned her body, and grasped the sword with her bound hands. Still, nothing happened.
Tears she had been holding back threatened to spill. She couldn't understand why things had turned out like this in the city she had entered with such high hopes. Even so, Lia kept moving. She knew well enough that sitting down and crying wouldn't solve anything. Clutching the sword with her hands bound behind her back, she began to waddle forward.
The path up from the basement was long. Only after dropping the sword multiple times and falling over and over did she finally reach the basement door. Standing with her back to the door, she struggled to somehow open the lock with her bound hands. Even if she managed to get out, she had no idea what to do. If everyone in the temple was after them, the moment she ran into a single person, she might be dragged right back down.
Her hands kept slipping from sweat, and blood dripped from her fingers, scraped raw by the rough wood. "Sniff... What do I do? Someone save me, please," Lia sobbed under her breath.
Shhhf—shhhf—
Step, step.
From the other side of the door, she heard the sound of footsteps and something heavy dragging along the floor. Startled, Lia tried to back away from the door, but her feet tangled and she tumbled to the ground.
Clack, clack.
The sound of a key turning in the lock echoed. Lia's heart sank. Anyone with a key was bound to be from the temple. She had nowhere left to run, and no strength left to flee. Just as Lia gripped Sierra's Sword in a final, desperate act of defiance, the door swung open.
"Lia?"
At the sight of the silver-haired old man who stepped through, Lia finally burst into tears.
"I am the champion of the Lucha Tournament. I came here after hearing that my companions went inside." At the temple entrance, Jing politely but swiftly identified himself to the knights blocking his path.
"Do you have proof?" Jing quickly pulled out the certificate he had received from the temple in Rucha. The two knights inspected it and lowered their guard, though they didn't exactly seem to welcome his visit. Beneath their expressionless faces, Jing read a distinct discomfort.
"Where are my companions? They should be a young man and a young woman."
"Follow us for now."
Though the situation was highly suspicious, Jing silently followed behind the two.
Just as Ratel and Lia had, Jing was brought to meet Priest Blat, who welcomed him warmly. "I heard about you from Miss Lia. Your name is Jing, correct? The two of them have already retired for the night, so it would be best to meet them tomorrow." Facing the smiling priest, Jing toyed with a wooden cup.
"Have a drink. It is a medicine that purifies the body."
"I didn't know the temple offered such medicine," Jing chuckled, causing Blat's smile to stiffen slightly.
"You speak as if you know a great deal."
"I know enough. And I would like to see my companions right now."
"This is a necessary step to receive the blessing. Drink up."
Jing hesitated for a moment. Should he politely decline the liquid, which obviously contained something suspicious, or should he just spill it right in front of him? Given how quiet the temple was, it didn't seem like Ratel had caused a scene yet. Deciding on the former, he pulled his hand away from the cup. Watching him, Priest Blat's lips twitched, but he didn't force the issue any further.
"I have much I wish to discuss with you. I heard you encountered a pack of Orcs. Did you find the person who was taken?"
"No, but someone said they saw them heading toward Limis... so we will likely find them soon." Rather than telling the truth and being treated like a madman, Jing chose to gloss over the facts to keep the conversation going.
"How strange. They should have come straight to the temple."
"They might have looked for lodging nearby first. It was late, after all."
Priest Blat asked a few more questions about the survivor, then lowered his voice. "How did you defeat those Orcs? You don't seem much different from any other mercenary."
"...I have my unique talents."
"You didn't kill all the Orcs, did you?"
"...No, many of them are still alive."
Jing tried not to frown as he watched the priest's smile widen. "I should be going now. Could you guide me to where my companions are staying?"
"You still haven't had your drink."
Thinking the man was incredibly persistent, Jing picked up the cup. It wouldn't be hard to drink it and then throw it up out of his sight. Priest Blat kept his eyes glued to the cup as it neared Jing's lips, waiting for his Adam's apple to bob. Unfortunately for him, that didn't happen.
"What are you doing? Why aren't you drinking?"
At Blat's urging, Jing pulled the cup away from his lips. "Didn't I tell you I have quite a few unique talents?"
Blat furrowed his brow at Jing's sudden boast.
"My hearing is much better than most. So, Priest Blat, you have some explaining to do." Jing turned the cup upside down. The sweet-smelling red liquid poured onto the floor, splashing over Blat's shoes. "Like why I can hear my companion screaming from beneath this very building."
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"I hear much better than you do. So you'd better answer me carefully this time. Believe it or not, I'm a man who has laid hands on a god more than once."