15. The Black Knight Swore to the Blind Saintess

I came to my senses and pushed myself up.

"Father Emilia, let's get into the shade and rest for a bit. The sun's brutal—we'll be dehydrated in no time."

"Yes."

Emilia nodded.

We left the beach behind and walked inland. There was no real shade to be found anywhere, so I shrugged off the coat I was wearing and draped it over the branches of a scraggly tree, rigging up a makeshift canopy. When Emilia's eyes met mine, she flusteredly looked away.

I settled down in the shade.

"Come sit over here. You shouldn't be sweating right now."

"Okay!"

Emilia came over and sat beside me, awkwardly drawing her knees together. There was a bright, lively warmth to her every movement, to the way she spoke. Even after losing both her eyes, if she kept that spirit—and layered her earnest devotion on top of it until her divine power awakened—then surely she would become the noble, saintly Emilia Rosebloom I'd read about in the novel.

But because of me, she hadn't lost her eyes at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all. And that changed everything. She wouldn't drag corpses washed ashore onto the white sand and kneel there offering prayers in the same spot for an entire month like a madwoman. That had been pure desperation—Emilia clinging to God because she had nothing else left. As long as she could see, and as long as she had another survivor to lean on, no such miracle would ever come to pass.

Noble saint or not. For the next month, until the navy came looking, the two of us simply had to survive on this deserted island together. Knowing her, this was probably exactly the situation Rhea had been hoping for.

"I just woke up too, you know. And when I did, there you were, Mr. Castollini, lying flat on the sand. I've never been so relieved to see anyone."

"Are you feeling all right? No injuries?"

"Thanks to you, I'm fine. And you, Mr. Castollini? If anything hurts, tell me right away. I can manage basic healing magic."

"Fortunately, nothing's wrong."

A brief silence settled between us. The sound of the waves filled the gap.

Emilia spoke up.

"Mr. Castollini."

"Yes?"

"May I ask you something?"

I answered while gazing out at the distant sea.

"I suddenly smelled oil and gunpowder, didn't I."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"That wasn't what you were about to ask? You weren't going to ask how I knew to jump off the ship?"

Emilia shook her head.

"Oh—no, that's not it."

"Then?"

She avoided my eyes and puffed out her cheeks a little.

"Hmph. ...Fine, it was that."

So she had some pride after all.

"To be perfectly accurate, I didn't jump. Something felt wrong, so I was holding Father like this and trying to move toward the railing to get clear—that's when the blast wave swept us both clean off the ship."

Emilia nodded along.

"I see."

We watched the ocean in silence. Splinters and wreckage from the sunken ship were drifting in toward the shore. Among them, I could see bodies. Emilia's expression darkened.

I decided I needed to lift her spirits.

"The navy will come looking for us, most likely."

"You think so?"

"There were quite a few nobles aboard. They'll mount a search. And you were on that ship too, weren't you, Father?"

"I—what do you mean, me?"

According to the novel, Emilia had already been famous even before she was venerated as a saintess. The way people aboard the ship had looked at her had only made me more certain of it. The empire where God looked down with favor upon His people—and she was its beloved sacred idol, so to speak. That such an idol had not only survived a horrific accident but performed a miracle even after losing both her eyes... it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no wonder they'd begun worshipping her as a saintess.

"What are you saying? Father, you're the jewel of our empire. Of course they'll come for you."

"..."

She gave a quiet, bitter smile.

"Father, let's agree to think positively, all right?"

I was, in effect, asking Emilia to hand me her hope. She looked up at me, seemed to grasp what I meant almost immediately, and nodded.

"You're right. Yes—thinking about it, of course they'd come rescue me! Don't you worry, Mr. Castollini. I, Emilia Rosebloom, may not look it, but I'm quite the important person!"

Emilia raised her small fists in a determined little flex.

Good. Mental care: handled. Now it was time to make a plan and move.

What's the first thing you do when you're stranded in the wilderness? 'Secure a safe base camp and find drinking water. That's always step one.' That's what Bear Grylls and the Law of the Jungle guy always said, anyway.

"First, let's walk the shoreline and gather anything useful that's washed up. Then we'll circle the island and look for fresh water and somewhere safe to spend the night. If we can manage it, we should build a signal fire too—one big enough to call for rescue."

"Have you been shipwrecked before, Mr. Castollini?"

"Sorry?"

"You seem to have all the answers ready at a moment's notice."

I gave a wry smile. Half-joking, half not—the truth was, this second life I was living now didn't feel all that different from being stranded.

"Shall we get going?"

First, we collected whatever useful things had washed up along the coast.

"I'm sorry."

Emilia was looting the corpses' pockets alongside me.

[Matches][Knife][Canned Goods Crate]

All in all, a productive haul. Just in case, we decided to take a few sets of the dead men's [clothes] as well. Emilia offered a prayer to comfort their souls before rising to her feet.

"Let's go."

There was none of the despair and hollowed-out desperation I'd seen in the novel—none of that clinging to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠God. In her clear, bright eyes, I could see positivity and the sheer will to live. Bodies left behind rot, and that is nature's way. If anything, I thought, maybe the Emilia struggling so hard to stay alive right now was the closer thing to a miracle.

We decided to climb to the highest point on the island first, to get a sense of its shape. As we spiraled up around it, we naturally fell into talking about ourselves—a kind of trust-building exercise, if you will, so we could rely on each other on an island where anything might happen.

"Mr. Castollini, what made you board that ship in the first place?"

"I'm a merchant... I move to where the goods sell. What other reason would there be?"

Not knowing the exact circumstances of my arrival, I improvised.

Emilia tilted her head.

"Didn't you say you ran a toy shop?"

"Yes. That's right."

"...I see."

Had I said something wrong?

"And what about you, Father? What brought you onto that ship?"

"The bishop issued an order for me to go to the front lines, find the soldiers fighting the demons there, and offer them blessings and comfort."

Ah. Of course. It had been a ship bound for a war zone. Which made me, in an instant, a cold-blooded lunatic on his way to sell toys to an active battlefield.

I nodded along with forced composure instead.

"Is that so? Then in a way, we shared the same purpose."

"I'm sorry—what?"

Her face practically said, what kind of nonsense is that?

I rolled my tongue around and committed.

"Toys comfort the heart, you see. If children in the war-torn villages receive comfort from the toys I hand out for free on the battlefield—then when they grow up and finally have money to spare, they won't forget my toys. They'll come back and buy them. That's the whole reason I go."

"..."

"Isn't it the same when you spread the gospel, Father? If the soldiers at the front find comfort in your words and survive thanks to your blessings—then later, they won't forget. They'll walk into the cathedral and offer prayers of thanks to God. So perhaps neither of us is doing anything more than tending to wounded hearts now, in hopes of a much greater return later on—ah."

I caught myself.

"Forgive me. That was far too presumptuous of me. Please, forget I said it."

A smile spread across Emilia's lips.

"So you were on your way to donate toys."

Phew.

So it works.

I stopped in my tracks.

Huh?

Trickle. Burble-burble.

Water. I could hear running water.

Heart lifting, I dashed ahead—and there it was: a stream, glistening through the undergrowth. One look was enough to tell the water was clean and clear.

"Father! Come look at this—there's water here!"

"Really? Hah, thank the heavens!"

Emilia came running toward me, beaming. And every time she moved, the lewd outline of her figure pressed against the thin fabric of her habit. Her large breasts bounced with every stride as she ran. The habit was slit at the sides, giving me flashes of pale thigh with each step.

Ahh. Now we're talking.

From ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this day forward, the name of this deserted island would be Dongtan—after all, every great 'new town' starts from nothing.

That was the exact moment—

Something long and tentacle-like burst from the bushes, coiled around Emilia's waist, and snatched her away in a blink.

"Kyaaah!"

"Father!"

I crashed through the brush after her. 'Damn it!'

A tentacle monster—an octopus-like thing easily three meters tall—loomed before me. Thick tentacles were wound tight around Emilia's slender waist, one just beneath her chest.

"S-save me, please!"

She reached both hands toward me. Before I could even close the distance, the rest of her—arms and legs alike—was wrapped up in tentacles.

"Nnngh!"

Emilia's face contorted in pain. The tentacles bound her arms behind her back like a prisoner, while another coiled around her slim ankles and hoisted her legs up. In a heartbeat, she was suspended in midair, folded into a ︶ shape as if bound in a wrestling hold.

I drew my knife and charged, slashing at the tentacles.

Clang. Clang.

'What the hell!'

As if the tentacle knew Vajra Body the way I did, the blade simply refused to bite.

"Hhk... Mr. Castollini..."

Emilia wriggled against her bonds, but there was no chance of slipping free. She looked one breath away from bursting into tears. She'd surely heard what happens to a woman when a tentacle monster has its way with her.

'What do I do?'

Then—

Ding.

A status window appeared.

Ah.

So that's what this thing is.