Chapter 125

Plumes of white smoke rose from every corner of the horizon, and the pungent stench of something scorched stung the nostrils. That "something," to put it plainly, was the town of Travis itself.

Looking down from the plateau that served as both a shelter and a field hospital, the town of Travis stretched out below in a state of utter devastation. It was a sight so harrowing it threatened to draw tears from anyone who looked upon it.

Even so, Erika pressed her lips into a thin line, forcing herself to burn the image into her memory.

This was a reality she had lacked the power to prevent. Had Harold and their companions not been there, the Sumeragi Territory might have met the same end. She etched that truth deep into her heart.

"Erika."

"……Lifa-san. Is it time for our shift change?"

"Nope, I’m taking a break too."

Stretching her small body with all her might, Lifa came to stand beside Erika.

Both of their gazes were fixed on the charred remains of Travis.

"It really is a nightmare, isn't it?"

"Yes……"

"……To be honest, I can't stop thinking about it. I keep wondering if there was something more we could have done."

"As do I. I have been made to realize my own inadequacy so painfully it hurts……"

The massive monster assault had occurred without warning several days ago.

The horde had been even larger than the one discovered in the Sumeragi Territory. Erika and her group had happened to be in town by chance and joined forces with the Knight Order—who seemed to have anticipated the threat and bolstered their security. Together, they had held the monsters at bay while executing a two-front evacuation of the townsfolk by land and sea.

While they had succeeded in saving many lives, the town had been trampled, and inevitably, some lives were lost. The number of casualties was by no means small.

That was why Erika, Lifa, their other companions, and surely every member of the Knight Order shared the same haunting thought:

Was there a way we could have saved more?

"But perhaps…… that is merely conceit on our part."

Erika spat the words out after a moment's hesitation.

Lifa didn't deny it; she simply let the words settle.

"Yeah. We’re not heroes or gods out of some legend. There’s no way we could save every single person right in front of us."

"And yet, I feel that if we dwell only on our regrets, we would be disregarding the feelings of those we did save—those who were kind enough to offer us their gratitude."

Many of the survivors had suffered grievous injuries. Had they been left alone, most would have surely perished.

Erika and Lifa, both capable of healing magic, had worked for over forty-eight hours without a wink of sleep to treat the wounded after the initial attack subsided. Thanks to their tireless efforts, they had managed to save everyone whose injuries were severe enough to require magical intervention.

Furthermore, a significant factor had been the contribution of Traveling Merchant El, whom they had encountered several times on their journey. He had suggested a method called "triage" to categorize the wounded by severity, which allowed them to treat the most critical cases with maximum efficiency.

He claimed to have learned the technique from an acquaintance; Erika made a mental note to ask for a proper lesson once the situation stabilized.

For the time being, the crisis had reached a lull where constant healing magic was no longer necessary, and they had transitioned to general relief work at the shelter, such as staffing the soup kitchen.

Every member of the group understood the need for haste, yet they were in unanimous agreement that they could not simply walk away from this tragedy. The women worked the soup kitchen while the men spent their days searching the ruins of the town for any survivors who might have been left behind.

They couldn't stay forever, which was exactly why they threw themselves into the work with such fervor. This included Ventus and Lilium, who had asked to remain with the group until Harold’s whereabouts were confirmed.

They surely had their own reasons for staying. Both worked more energetically than anyone else.

"I shall return to my duties. Lifa-san, please take your rest—"

"Waiiiit a minute! Keep me company for just a little longer."

"Eh? I... I don’t mind, but……"

They sat side-by-side on a stone slab—hardly a bench, but sturdy enough to serve as one. It wasn't comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, yet Erika felt a sense of relief wash over her for the first time in days.

Perhaps she had been wound tight for far too long. As if seeing right through Erika’s heart, Lifa spoke up.

"A lot has happened lately. None of us have really had a moment to just sit and breathe."

"That is true. Given the urgency of our problems, it may be unavoidable, but……"

"Well, that's why you should let yourself relax a bit now."

As soon as she spoke, Lifa lay down and rested her head in Erika’s lap. It was a classic lap pillow.

"Aaah~... Just as I thought. Top-tier comfort……"

"L-Lifa? What are you doing all of a sudden……?"

"Enjoying a lap pillow from Erika. Also, you finally called me that."

"Eh?"

"Just 'Lifa.' You’ve been calling me 'Lifa-san' for a while now."

"T-That is……"

"I’m not blaming you, okay? I’m sure you had your own reasons, or maybe just a change of heart."

The phrase "change of heart" made Erika’s chest tighten.

The day she was forced to realize she wasn't qualified to stand by Harold’s side. The moment she realized that everything she had built up was meaningless.

In that moment, Erika felt as though she had heard the sound of her own heart shattering.

Lifa seemed to sense Erika’s inner turmoil. She looked straight into Erika’s eyes, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

"But even so, Erika, you're way too serious."

"……Am I?"

"You are. I mean, it’s a virtue and all, but when it comes to romance, don't you think it’s okay to be a little more selfish?"

Erika understood what Lifa was trying to say. That she should ignore her status and the obstacles between them, and simply convey her feelings as an individual.

But Harold surely wouldn't want that. It was because she believed this that she had kept her love hidden, telling herself that doing so was for Harold’s benefit.

The truth, however, was that she was simply terrified of speaking her mind and being flatly rejected. Claiming it was "for Harold" was nothing more than a convenient excuse.

"I have neither the confidence nor the courage……"

"Wait, are you mocking me?"

"Of course not! I would never!"

"I feel like if Erika can't have confidence, then who can……?"

Muttering to herself, Lifa remained on Erika’s lap, her brow furrowed in a deep "hmmm" of concentration.

The sight reminded Erika of a cat, and she instinctively began to stroke Lifa's hair. Though they were discussing a serious matter, Lifa’s presence seemed to soften the otherwise stifling atmosphere.

It was a quiet moment, detached from the gruesome reality surrounding them. After letting herself be petted for a while, Lifa spoke up as if she’d hit upon a brilliant idea.

"How about you just keep confessing until Harold says yes?"

"I... I beg your pardon?"

Lifa was undoubtedly a brilliant young woman. Though they hadn't known each other long, Erika had seen her sharp intellect in action many times. Perhaps because of her scientific background, she often made leaps of logic that Erika never could—though they usually turned out to be rational decisions based on hidden data.

Was this suggestion of brute-force persistence also based on some profound insight?

"You’re scared and losing your nerve because you think it’s over the moment you’re rejected. So, let’s change the mindset: decide that you'll confess as many times as it takes until that guy finally says 'yes'!"

Apparently, there was no profound insight.

Though, the idea of repeating a process through trial and error until a successful result was achieved was very much like a scientist.

"I truly don't think I could…… It would be such a nuisance to Lord Harold……"

"It’s—fiiiine—!"

Lifa sat up, stood in front of Erika, and reached out to cup Erika’s cheeks in her palms.

She stared intently into Erika’s eyes.

"『You are beautiful, like a flower dancing in the moonlight.』"

"W-What was that for?"

"It’s a charm for girls in love passed down in my village. It’s my first time using it, though it feels more like a confession than a charm."

Lifa released her cheeks and gave a mischievous grin.

"But that takes care of the confidence and courage problem, right?"

"……Why do you push me so hard? You told me that you, too, admire Lord Harold."

"I’m definitely attracted to him. Maybe not as clearly as you can say you love him, though."

"Then, why?"

"Because I like you too, Erika."

Lifa said it plainly, without a hint of hesitation or embarrassment.

Erika knew she didn't mean it in a romantic sense, yet being the recipient of such straightforward affection made her the one to turn red.

"Honestly, I don't know if pushing you like this is the 'right' choice. If I really wanted what was best for you or Harold, maybe I should just stay out of it."

A shadow flitted across Lifa's face. She clearly had her own burdens to bear.

For a moment, she looked as though she were making a painful sacrifice.

"But I just can't stand that. Even if I'm wrong, I don't want to regret not doing anything! I want to dream of a future where everyone—all the people I like—can laugh together from the bottom of their hearts!"

"Lifa……"

"I don't care if someone ends up hating me or resenting me for it. This sentiment is the core of who Lifa Goodridge is."

Erika couldn't fathom the sheer weight of the resolve behind those words.

Yet, she knew it was a conviction strong enough to define Lifa’s entire existence.

Erika felt a sense of pure envy toward that way of life—a way of living that, in some ways, mirrored Harold’s own.

"……I must express my respect for you once again, Lifa."

"Right back at you. I think I grew to like you because you’re the kind of person who can say that so sincerely."

"?"

Erika tilted her head, not quite catching the meaning.

Seeing her confusion, Lifa looked slightly exasperated.

"You know, some people would be suspicious of my encouragement."

"Suspicious…… of what?"

"That I might be egging on a love rival just to make sure she gets rejected and disappears."

The realization hit Erika like a physical blow.

Certainly, if one looked at it through a colder lens, that interpretation was possible. It was a perspective Erika hadn't considered in the slightest.

If Erika were rejected by Harold, it would mean one less rival for Lifa. On the surface, she was being supportive, but underneath, she would be sabotaging a competitor.

"Lifa…… You might actually have a talent for politics."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Yes, a high one."

After a brief pause, Lifa burst into laughter, and Erika joined her, the two of them giggling together.

Erika realized she was wearing a genuine, shadowless smile for the first time in a very long while.

Meeting Lifa and becoming her friend was undoubtedly one of the greatest treasures Erika had found.

It might not happen overnight. But not for Harold’s sake—for the sake of her own desire to be someone who could help him—she would change. Slowly, step by step, she would reevaluate her approach to Harold.

(It isn't a question that offers an easy answer, but by the time this journey reaches its end, I hope……)

With her heart feeling significantly lighter, Erika set back to work.

She would change—not in a rush, but with steady, certain steps. Or so she believed.

Right up until the next morning, when Yuno arrived with a report: a monster attack similar to the one in Travis had struck a small town called Burston, and Harold, who had been caught in the middle of it, was missing.

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Part 5 concludes here.