Lingering Embers (3)
"I wonder, are you the first of the Grian line to look upon my face?"
The woman squatted in front of the iron bars, lowering herself to meet my gaze.
My head throbbed with a hangover, but I did not let my guard down.
Just moments ago, I was drinking with a hairy middle-aged man.
Somehow, I was growing accustomed to these sudden, absurd developments, and a hollow laugh threatened to escape my lips.
Though, I suppose I had finally met the person I was bound to meet eventually...
"Hmm, do not harbor too much resentment toward the Count. It was I who commanded him to bring you here."
Her crimson eyes gleamed with a strange light.
Even though not a single ray of light entered this room.
"The Hero of the Northern Front. I hear the soldiers whispered of you as the 'Blade Demon'. Those close to you simply called you 'Young Master'. Looking at your record... you were practically the sole architect of our victory."
"Who are you?"
"Yet, when I review your grades from your Academy days, the accounts of the knights who sparred with you, and the words of those who instructed you, it is quite peculiar. You were a man who wouldn't have been out of place dying on his very first day."
The woman continued to speak, not expecting an answer.
As if whatever I said did not matter in the slightest.
Her tone suggested she was talking to an empty room.
"Have you ever heard such a tale in your childhood? Of a useless, trashy scoundrel of a noble house who suddenly, one day, turns over a new leaf through his bonds with others and saves the world?"
Somehow, I knew exactly who the woman before me was.
A living, breathing person could hardly be identical to a 2D pixel sprite... but with that hair color, those eyes, and that self-centered temperament that completely ignored my responses, it was impossible not to recognize her.
The cluster of pixels I had only ever stared at on a screen was now crouching close enough to slit my throat.
If only I had transmigrated into this game with a cheat trainer active, I might have lived a rather happy life.
I would have maxed out everyone's Affection levels right from the start... and I wouldn't be living a life where everyone pointed fingers at me.
I might not have even been dragged to the front lines.
"I am asking you a question, Grian."
"I have, Your Holiness."
"...Oh? Why do you call me 'Your Holiness'? Or does your kind have a way of knowing? Since this is the only blessing I have received, I cannot say I understand."
The woman smiled with satisfaction, yet she drew the sword from her waist.
"Still, I must verify."
Immediately after, as if offering a casual greeting, the drawn blade thrust straight through the iron bars.
I had a feeling she would do this the moment she drew the sword, so I jerked my head aside to dodge.
*Screeech!*
The tip of the blade grazed my ear, leaving a long, scraping screech against the wall behind me.
The woman looked down at me with a subtle expression, murmuring softly.
"Is a strike of this measure... something that can be evaded through mere skill or experience?"
"What the hell, so suddenly—!"
She gave the sword a light flick before speaking again.
"And if I do this..."
"Wait—!"
Before the words could even leave my mouth, the sword flew.
At a speed that seemed as if it were coated in mana.
The thought of dodging couldn't even register in time.
You don't die instantly when your head is pierced by a sword.
For a brief moment, you feel a foreign sensation... and then you just die.
With the blade skewering me, I caught sight of the woman looking down at me, looking somewhat disappointed.
"Was I mistaken?"
The center of my vision blurred into white, and a thin, high-pitched ringing stretched out endlessly.
"You said you'd support me, and now you're saying going to the Capital to become an adventurer is a foolish dream? ...Sure, maybe being an adventurer isn't as free as I think... Yes, just as you said, it might not be free. But... if I grow slowly, raise my rank, and make a lot of money, won't I be better off than you, who does nothing but cry by the river? Lihen, sometimes I think... I shouldn't have talked to you when we were kids. If I knew you'd shackle me like this, I would have never met someone like you in the first place."
I blinked.
The sword was still held in her hand.
In the exact same posture as when she had just flicked it.
As if nothing had happened.
I thought I would eventually get used to dying and returning, but I hadn't.
Once my mind was scrambled like this...
"And if I do this..."
Once again, the sword flew, piercing my heart.
Seeing that no light enveloped the blade right before it pierced me, it was at least not mana.
The genre of Endrog was, first and foremost, fantasy.
There were guns and cannons, but it was a world where swords and magic were so dominant that such things were meaningless.
And in such a place, there was no way divine power didn't exist.
Though it was my first time seeing it in person, as there hadn't been a single priest on the Northern Front.
The sensation of the blade digging into my chest sent a sudden surge of heat rushing to my head.
"You crazy, *cough*, bitch, let me speak—"
"Is it not you after all?"
"Or you could leave with me! You always say you're sick of living in a place like this, too! You said you liked it when you stayed in the Capital! ...Right, just like you said last time, you can't even follow me of your own free will. You're always like this. You say you like me, but you won't do the things I like with me, and you've probably forgotten everything we said since we were kids. Lihen, aren't you just saying those things to hold me back?"
My chest throbbed.
I couldn't tell if it was because of the sword or something else... but that didn't matter.
Clearly, this was a survivable situation.
Because if I were placed in a situation where death was absolute, I would return to a point before that moment.
But I had no idea how to survive.
My limbs were bound, so how the hell was I supposed to dodge a sword thrust at a speed that might as well be coated in mana?
I racked my brain as hard as I could.
Then, I suddenly recalled a demi-human on the battlefield who used a chained weapon with a blade.
The way they had bound my thrusting sword with their chain, pulled back the blade that had flown far away, and killed me...
Conveniently, the shackles binding my wrists were not without a chain.
"And if I do this..."
The woman thrust her sword once more.
Sensing that the magic-infused blade would aim for my heart again, I brought the chain connecting my handcuffs to my chest and twisted it the moment I felt something flying toward me.
I caught the blade in the chain, pulled it close, grabbed it, and thrust it back toward the woman.
"Good. That is more like it."
The woman dodged it effortlessly, then struck the flat of the blade with her fist, shattering it completely.
The broken metal fell helplessly to the floor.
She then looked at me, the corners of her mouth curling up in satisfaction.
"Indeed, you are one chosen by the Heavens. I felt not a shred of wicked energy when you evaded my blade."
The woman opened the iron gate.
It hadn't even been locked in the first place.
"To introduce myself briefly, I am the woman known as Elseria Saint-Aurelle Larochecroix. I possess about fifteen other names to append to that, but they are not worth reciting here."
It wasn't as if there were Saints in this world.
There were people overflowing with divine power due to the blessings of the Heavens... but they were no longer called Saints.
Though I had heard that in the past, men were called Holy Men and women Holy Women, and they were enshrined in special positions.
"I have heard quite a lot about you from the Count. He spoke of a most reliable figure who fought as if he could see the future, delivering victory on the front lines without sustaining a single scratch."
Since the one with the greatest divine power must be the most devout, such a person naturally became the head of the Church.
"A man who blossomed his talent through the blessings of the Heavens in the holy war against the disgusting heretics... I am glad to see you did not rely on some sinister power."
And the person standing before me... was the head of that Church.
The Pope, Elseria.
She was a character who would always appear as an enemy if you tried to romance a non-human heroine even slightly—or rather, if you got even remotely close to them, even without fully entering their route.
She showed absolutely no mercy, and as demonstrated by how she had pierced my heart in an instant just now, her strength was not inferior to the head of House Grian. She was an incredibly annoying character to face as an enemy.
Even during other heroine routes, if the protagonist's Fame stat rose above a certain threshold, she would always show up to scout him for the Church... and that was likely the case for me now.
I was a war hero, after all.
Only the pathetic nobles and brainless knights looked down on me. At the very least, the wretched bastards who shared the front lines with me could never look down on me.
Because every single one of them practically owed me their life.
Because I was the one who had essentially ended the war.
And yet, that treatment at House Grian, and at the banquet... what on earth was that?
No one, absolutely no one who knew the old 'Lihen', treated me with the respect I deserved.
Which only proved that I was not 'Lihen'.
Would this woman be any different?
"Ah, indeed. I was so absent-minded that I committed such rudeness. You. Join the Church."
But... I never expected to be kidnapped like this instead of being scouted.
"You do not have much of a choice, but I shall compensate you generously."
"...Could you start by letting me go before we talk?"
"I cannot."
"Pardon?"
"Looking at your eyes right now, it seems you would stab me."
"..."