"There. You'll be fine now."
Namia was wrapping bandages around my wounds. That’s right—I had been beaten by Dalga and his cronies, and Namia was nursing me back to health.
"Thank you," I said.
Namia gave me a shy, bashful smile.
Looking at her expression, a sudden doubt flickered in my mind. Why was Namia here? She was supposed to be dead. The realization came with cold, simple clarity.
I was dreaming.
"I'm sorry, Namia."
Even knowing this was a dream, I couldn't help but apologize.
"What’s wrong? Why are you apologizing all of a sudden?"
"I couldn't... I couldn't save you."
"Oh, Kiska. You didn't do anything wrong. You shouldn't worry about it."
"And... I thought I might be able to bring you back to life. But I failed at that, too..."
"It couldn't be helped. Just knowing that you’re alive makes me happy."
That was the Namia I remembered. She was always so kind. If it were the real Namia, she would surely forgive me like this.
"...Is that what you thought I'd say?"
Suddenly, her expression stiffened.
"Eh?"
"If it weren't for you, I never would have died! It’s all your fault, Kiska! Everything is your fault!"
Namia screamed in a fit of rage.
Immediately, my chest tightened, and an impulse to scream welled up inside me.
She was right. It was all my fault...!
"Kiska! Are you alright!?"
I'm sorry, Namia.
I tried to force the words out, but as I opened my eyes, I realized the figure in front of me wasn't Namia. It was High Priest Sierotia.
She was peering down at me, her face clouded with concern.
"I-I'm fine. Just a nightmare."
"I see. You looked like you were in such pain while you slept... I was worried. But it seems you've regained consciousness. That's a relief."
I had clearly caused her a great deal of trouble.
Actually, what was the situation? I remembered fighting the masked figure and winning, but then I had collapsed. I sat up, taking in my surroundings as the memories returned.
"I happened to find this mountain hut. I brought you here to rest."
Just as she said, I was lying on the floor of a small cabin. It was crudely built; even from the inside, I could tell the walls were thin. A storm was raging outside, and the entire structure rattled and groaned under the force of the wind. The noise made it hard to hear her voice.
It seemed she had carried me all the way here.
"Thank you... for getting me to safety."
"Don't mention it. Thanks to you, we recovered the Holy Grail. This was the least I could do."
Sierotia spoke with a composed expression, but carrying a grown man through a storm couldn't have been easy.
"Also, Sierotia... there's something I’ve been wondering about."
I understood the gist of how we got here. But there was one detail that I couldn't quite wrap my head around.
"Yes?" she asked, her tone perfectly level.
I wondered how she could remain so calm given the circumstances.
"Why... why are we both naked?"
To be precise, someone had stripped me down to my underwear and draped a single blanket over me. Sierotia was in a similar state, having stripped down to her bra and panties. Since there was apparently only one blanket, she had nothing covering her.
"Our clothes were soaked through by the rain. I took the liberty of removing them because I was afraid we would catch pneumonia if we stayed in those wet things."
When she put it like that, it was perfectly rational. Still, the situation was incredibly embarrassing. I was impressed she could explain it without blushing.
Our clothes were piled in a corner of the hut.
"Are they... not dry yet?"
"No. They’re still damp," Sierotia said, reaching out to check them. It looked like we were stuck like this for a while.
"It's really coming down out there."
"Yes. It will be impossible to descend the mountain until the rain lets up."
"Right. I hope we can make it back before the festival starts."
"I hope so, too. Hopefully, it will stop by morning."
"Are you cold, Sierotia? Here, use this blanket."
"No, I'm fine. You’re the one recovering, Kiska. You need it more."
I felt guilty keeping it all to myself. As a man, I felt I should be the one to endure the cold.
"Is there really only one?"
"Yes. This blanket was the only one in the hut."
"Then you should definitely have it."
I tried to push the blanket toward her, but at that exact moment, a loud bang echoed through the room. The door had been ripped off its hinges by a violent gust of wind.
The storm roared inside, bringing a blast of freezing rain and wind that instantly sucked the heat from the room. This was no time for chivalrous posturing.
"Sierotia... do you want to share it?"
"I was just about to suggest the same thing."
Our thoughts were in sync.
We huddled together under the single blanket, pressing our bodies close for warmth. Fortunately, Sierotia had used a bit of magic to start a small bonfire nearby. Despite the wind and rain howling through the doorway, we were managing to hold on.
However, there was a glaring problem.
I was pressed right up against a nearly naked Sierotia. No man could remain indifferent in this situation. She was undeniably beautiful, and I could feel her body heat radiating through her skin.
I noticed that some of her hair dye had washed away in the rain, revealing streaks of brilliant silver.
"Are you... cold?" I asked, trying to focus on anything else.
"No. Thanks to you, I'm very warm."
"Good. That's good."
I tried to keep the conversation going to distract myself, but it was futile. I couldn't stop being conscious of her.
"Kiska..."
"Yeah?"
"You said you had a nightmare. May I ask what it was about?"
"It was... about my childhood friend."
"The one who died?"
I realized then that I had told her about Namia before.
"You might not believe this, but the woman who stole the Holy Grail... she had the exact same face as Namia."
"What?"
"I know she’s a different person. I know that. But it made me feel like... like I really was the one who killed her. The guilt just hit me, and I blacked out."
"...I see."
It was a bizarre story, but Sierotia didn't question it. She just listened in silence, which I was grateful for.
"Sorry for always dumping my problems on you. Is there anything you want to talk about, Sierotia?"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. I want to know more about you."
Sierotia looked at me for a moment before she began to speak.
"I lost my father because of this silver hair."
She spoke with such a casual tone that I didn't know how to react to such a bombshell. Her past was hauntingly similar to mine.
Her father had been an Alcusian, but her mother was not. Even so, they had faced persecution in their village. Her family had lived in the shadows, trying not to draw attention to themselves. It was an inconvenient life, but she had been happy.
Then, one day, her father was arrested.
A local family had been murdered during a robbery. Even though there wasn't a shred of evidence, he was suspected simply because he was an Alcusian. Her father had denied the charges until the very end, but he was eventually killed by a mob that refused to believe him.
Her mother had suffered a mental breakdown after that and became unable to care for her child. Sierotia was sent to live with her maternal grandparents. They were members of the church and had been estranged from her mother, but there was nowhere else for her to go.
Because of their ties to the church, Sierotia began working there as well. To survive, she had to keep her Alcusian heritage a secret. That was when she started dyeing her hair.
"I had a talent for the priesthood," she concluded. "That's how I eventually became the High Priest."
"I see..."
A heavy silence settled between us. I didn't know what kind of words could possibly comfort someone who had been through that.
"To be honest... I don't really like the fact that I dye my hair. It feels like I'm denying the father I loved so much."
I tried to imagine myself in her position. I’d never had any qualms about dyeing my hair, but then again, my father was a piece of trash who had abandoned us.
"And... I've always struggled with a fear of people who aren't Alcusian. That’s why, when I first met you, Kiska... I was so happy. I felt like I had finally found someone I could truly trust."
"Sierotia..."
"So... I would be very happy if you stayed close to me from now on."
She leaned against me as she finished. In the heat of the conversation, I’d managed to forget our state of dress, but now the sensation of her soft skin against mine made my heart hammer against my ribs.
"The rain... it’s slowing down," she whispered.
"Yeah."
The violent wind had died down to a dull roar. At this rate, the storm would be over by morning.
"U-Um, Kiska...?"
"What is it?"
The atmosphere had grown tense. Sierotia’s voice was strained, as if she were bracing herself.
"I’m going to say something strange. Is that alright?"
"Of course. Go ahead."
"Okay... here goes."
She hesitated, the words seemingly stuck in her throat. To reassure her, I reached out and took her hand. She squeezed it back, looking relieved.
"Would you... stay by my side forever?"
I looked at her. Her usual calm, professional mask was gone. Her face was flushed deep red, and her eyes were wet with unshed tears. I could hear the rapid thrum of her heart.
I wasn't so dense that I didn't understand what she meant. This was a confession.
Should I take her hand?
I definitely liked her. But I couldn't give her an immediate answer.
The first person who came to mind was Namia—but she was gone. Then I thought of Sage Nyau—but our time together was a century in the past. I would likely never see her again. Then there was Vampire Eudite, but those memories were gone, too.
I even thought of Parasitic Sword: Puppeteer, though that was different...
My biggest concern was the girl I couldn't quite remember. The one who had met me in the Dungeon and given me the Skill: Save & Reset. There were holes in my memory, and they were all centered around her. I felt like I would be betraying her if I just let myself be swept away.
"Kiska... please say something."
Sierotia was curled up, looking like she was about to burst into tears. My indecisiveness was hurting her.
"I'm... I'm so happy you feel that way. And I think I love you too, Sierotia. But I'm sorry. I can't give you an answer right now."
In the end, it was the only honest thing I could say. I felt like I didn't have the right to be with her yet.
"I-I see... I guess I'm just not that attractive to you... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have burdened you."
She was on the verge of sobbing.
"No, that’s not it! You’re incredibly beautiful, Sierotia. It's not you—it's me."
"...Can I ask why it can't be me?"
"There's... someone else I'm worried about."
I knew she might be disillusioned by that, but I had to be honest.
"Do you love her more than me?"
"It’s not like that. But if I started dating you while I still had someone else on my mind, it would be unfair to you."
"I don't care! If you love me, isn't that enough!?"
Sierotia began to cry in earnest. Seeing her like this filled me with a crushing sense of guilt.
"Kiska, I love you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I can promise you that I’ll never love anyone else for the rest of my life. So please... just stay with me."
It felt less like a confession and more like a desperate plea. I hadn't realized her feelings ran this deep.
"Even if you love someone else... I don't care. As long as I can be near you, I’ll be happy."
"Sierotia..."
"But for now... just look at me."
Before I could respond, she leaned in and kissed me. I didn't pull away. I couldn't. I let her kiss me, accepting her feelings.
"Kiska... I love you."
Hearing her say it so clearly made my heart waver. Her shoulders were shaking. I knew how much courage it had taken for her to say those words.
Without thinking, I put my hands on her shoulders. She buried her face in my chest, and I pulled her into a tight embrace. She felt so fragile, as if she might break if I held her too hard. I held her as if she were made of glass.
After that, we let the moment carry us away. Whatever logic I had left had vanished completely.
By the time I woke up, the sun had risen and the rain had finally stopped. Sierotia was sleeping with her head on my lap, breathing softly.
A wave of affection washed over me as I stroked her hair. But we couldn't stay here forever. We needed to get back to the village. I gently nudged her shoulder.
"Good morning, Kiska," she whispered, waking up.
"Morning."
We changed back into our dry clothes and began the hike down the mountain. We had ridden horses up, but Sierotia told me they had bolted during the storm. We’d have to walk the rest of the way.
As we walked, Sierotia kept her arm tightly linked with mine, as if asserting her place by my side.
I wondered what we were now. She was acting like my lover, but we hadn't actually exchanged vows to date. Then again, given what had happened, I couldn't exactly object if she claimed we were together. I felt it would be awkward to ask, so I stayed silent. We barely spoke for the rest of the descent.
"Hey, what about your hair? If you go back like that, they’ll know you’re an Alcusian."
We were nearing the foothills when I brought it up. Her hair dye had washed away, leaving silver streaks visible.
"I'll use my rain gear to hide it. You’ve got some silver showing too, Kiska, so be careful."
I checked; she was right. My own hair dye was failing. I pulled my hood low to hide my head.
"Also, Kiska... if you want to act like nothing happened last night... that's okay with me."
She let go of my hand and started walking toward the village ahead of me.
"Wait."
I reflexively grabbed her hand, stopping her.
"I want to treasure you properly, Sierotia. So... don't say things like that."
"...I understand," she replied, a happy smile returning to her face as she squeezed my hand once more.
"Sierotia-sama!!"
As soon as we reached the village, Priestess Eliese came running toward us in a panic. She practically threw herself into Sierotia’s arms.
"Thank goodness! You’re safe!"
"Eliese, what happened?" Sierotia asked immediately, sensing the urgency.
Eliese took a shaky breath. "Please, try to stay calm. This morning, Highness Second Prince Diluecca—who was supposed to attend the festival—was attacked and killed."
My heart skipped a beat.
The Seven Prophecies. One of them had been: 'Let Highness Second Prince Diluecca die.' Another prophecy had come true.
"...I see," Sierotia said, her voice remarkably level despite the shock. "Gather the village leaders for an emergency meeting. Eliese, I need you to verify all the information we have. I’m going to go change."
She was eerily composed.
"Hey, are you okay?" I whispered.
"No, I am not. If this is true, the festival is the least of our worries."
The assassination of a prince meant the festival would almost certainly be canceled.
"However, it’s baffling," Sierotia continued. "The Second Prince left the Royal Capital with over a thousand guards. Furthermore, he was protected by the strongest guard in the entire kingdom. For someone to slaughter their way through that and kill the prince... the attacker must be incredibly powerful."
"The strongest guard?" I asked out of pure curiosity. "Who was it?"
I wasn't prepared for her answer. The name she spoke hit me like a physical blow.
"What...?"
I struggled to keep my voice steady, trying to hide my shock. Sierotia looked at me curiously but repeated the name anyway.
"Sage Nyau," she said. "The strongest mage in the Kingdom of Lastana. Surely even you’ve heard of her, Kiska?"
I couldn't find the breath to answer.
Sage Nyau. It was a name I knew all too well.