The young sister was sweeping in front of the church, tending to her daily chores as she always did.
She was a novice who had only recently started working there. Dressed modestly in her black habit, the girl stopped her broom and stretched toward the sun.
"Mmm... phew. Peace and quiet really are the best, aren't they?"
The sigh she released toward the blue sky was filled with a sense of realism and gravity that seemed out of place for a newcomer. It was only natural. About two weeks ago, the girl had been grabbed by the collar by a veteran sister and forced to assist in the treatment of a young man who had been carried in with horrific, life-threatening injuries.
To be honest, she didn't want to remember that day.
Even now, the memory brought back the thick, iron scent of blood. It was shameful of her to feel this way toward the man who had miraculously survived, but the moment she had seen him, a single thought had flashed through her mind: This is impossible. Almost every sister present had turned pale, their faces drained of color. Only the old sister had spoken up.
"This boy is still alive. If we give up now, it's the same as if we killed him ourselves."
It was a day that had taught her, with painful clarity, what it truly meant to serve the Chryscles Holy Church.
Since then, no one with major injuries or illnesses had been brought in. She realized now how precious that normalcy was. In this world, once you took a single step outside the city, you could stumble upon terrifying monsters at any moment.
She prayed that these calm, uneventful days would continue for as long as possible.
"...Hm?"
She noticed them a short while after resuming her work. Two figures were walking straight up the slope that connected the city center to the church.
One wore a black habit just like her own, while the other wore well-used silver light armor.
"Huh, who’s that...?"
Even as a novice, she was a member of the church. She could tell at a glance that they were a sister and a knight of the Chrys Knights.
But was there a sister in this city with such beautiful platinum-blonde hair? If they were colleagues, she certainly would have remembered her. It was hard to believe they had never crossed paths despite working in the same city.
She squinted, tilting her head as she tried to place the face.
"Wait—"
As the figures drew close enough for her to distinguish their features, the girl lost her voice.
"Hello there."
"—..."
By the time the woman greeted her, the girl had completely frozen.
Wait. Hold on. Just a second.
Why... why are YOU here?
She might have been a newcomer, but it was precisely because she was new that she understood with absolute certainty exactly who stood before her.
Her senses snapped back into focus. Her knees buckled in a reflexive bow.
"Oh, please, stay as you are. I am not such a grand personage."
"Ha... but, no, I mean..."
Gently restrained, the girl was in a state of extreme agitation. If this person wasn't a "grand personage," then every other human on earth might as well be an insect.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Anze."
"Huh? A-Anze... sama?"
She knew instantly it was a pseudonym. Or rather, a nickname. The girl's mind raced to figure out why she would introduce herself that way.
She tried to think, but everything was happening too fast. The sister who called herself Anze chuckled with a melodic voice.
"There is no need for 'sama.' Please, just call me Anze. I am merely a humble sister."
"No, no, no, no, no!"
There’s no way I can do that! What are you saying? What is even happening right now!?
The girl's mind was in utter chaos. She desperately fought the urge to bolt, her eyes darting to the knight standing behind the sister as she silently begged for help. What kind of joke is this? Please forgive me! There’s nothing to be gained by teasing a lowly novice like me! Have mercy!
Her silent prayer was answered.
"Anze, that’s enough small talk. You’re confusing the poor girl."
"Oh... my apologies. We have come here incognito today, you see."
"Oh—I mean, but you two were just walking through the streets normally..."
"Yes. We must not stand out while traveling, so I applied a minor glamour. To the people in town, we surely appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary sister and her knight."
"I-I see..."
That explained it. If not for the magic, the church would currently be besieged by a frantic, worshipping crowd.
"S-So, what business brings you here today?"
"Yes. I have come to see Wolka-sama."
Wolka?
It took a few seconds to search through her mental records, but she managed to place the name.
It was that young man. The one who had been brought in on the verge of death, survived against all odds, and had begun his prosthetic rehabilitation today with terrifying speed.
"I-If it’s him, I believe he’s currently doing his physical therapy—"
That was as far as she got.
Suddenly, her breath hitched. Her throat tightened, and she couldn't force out another word.
It wasn't fear. She wasn't trembling. Instead, she was struck by a memory of the time her parents had taken her to the Cathedral in the Holy City. She remembered the solemn, divine atmosphere—an air so holy it made one shrink back in awe.
It was the sensation of being purified, of becoming clear and white, like praying before a radiant divine statue. It was the feeling of a mortal sensing the presence of the divine—reverence and terror intertwined.
The girl realized then: When a human touches a truly holy existence, they actually forget how to breathe.
"—Ah, my apologies."
The feeling vanished. The world that had been turning pure white returned to its original colors. The blue sky, the street, and her own senses flooded back into her.
It felt as though she had suddenly opened her eyes after a deep, profound prayer.
"I’ve startled you. I am sorry."
"N-No—"
It had happened so quickly that she wasn't entirely sure what she had just experienced.
"Well then, we shall excuse ourselves. May the Lord’s blessing be upon your noble devotion."
Before the girl could regain her wits, the sister entered the church with her knight in tow.
"—......"
The girl stared blankly at the sky. What had she just seen? Was it a daydream brought on by the warm sun? That would have made more sense than the reality she had just witnessed.
To think that personage had appeared before her, spoken to her, and for a fleeting moment, made her feel like prostrating herself...
A moment later—
"Welcome to the Holy Church! How can I—HUH!? UEHHHAAAAAAA!?"
Hearing the startled screams of her colleagues echoing from inside the building, the girl realized it definitely hadn't been a dream.
"...Say, Wolka. I have to ask. This really is your first time walking with a prosthetic, right?"
"Is it that obvious?"
I’d been at it for over an hour. I’d graduated from the handrails to the cane, and finally, I’d managed to walk on my own—at a snail's pace.
If I were being honest, "walking" was a generous term. I was wobbling across the flat floor like a newborn fawn.
It was completely different from moving my own leg. The hardest part was the lack of sensation; the prosthetic was just a tool, not a part of me.
With my own leg, I could feel the ground the moment I stepped. I knew instantly if the surface was soft, hard, or unstable.
The prosthetic provided no such feedback. Even when I committed my weight, the physical reality of the floor didn't reach my brain properly. Am I stepping firmly? Is it going to slip? Am I about to fall? That sensory disconnect created a mental wall that was hard to scale.
I’d expected to do a bit better than this. Maybe I’d gone soft. If my grandfather were here, he’d be shouting about how pampered and lazy I was being.
The veteran sister, however, seemed to have a different opinion.
"You’re learning too fast... no, 'fast' doesn't cover it. Usually, it takes days just to take a step without support."
"Is that so?" Maybe it took that long for ordinary people. Did that mean it would take a month before I could walk normally?
I didn't have that kind of time. They say a newborn fawn can walk within hours of being born; I wasn't about to let an animal outpace me.
I intended to be walking around the church without issues by the end of the day. If I could do that, I wouldn't have to rely on Master and the others just to get a glass of water.
Besides, what was the worst that could happen? I’d fall.
If you’re afraid of falling, you have no business picking up a sword or becoming an adventurer. Compared to the training I’d endured in the past, this "safe" rehabilitation was nothing.
Personally, I would have preferred a blunt command like, "Learn to run by sunset. Move." But if I said that out loud, Master would probably burst into tears, so I kept it to myself.
"Good work, Senpai."
"Thanks."
I sat down for a break, and Yulitia immediately brought me a cup of water. Master followed close behind.
"Wolka, a-are you pushing yourself? You don't have to work so hard! A little at a time, okay? Just a little...!"
Master was currently being held firmly in Atri’s lap like a toddler. She’d been panicking every time I wobbled, trying to rush over and catch me, so Atri had finally intervened and dragged her away.
Atri patted Master’s head. "Liesel is too much of a worrywart. Calm down."
"B-But..."
"No buts," I muttered.
"Honestly, I agree that you should take it slow," the old sister added. "Is there a reason you’re in such a hurry?"
There were nothing but reasons. I didn't want to be a burden, I wanted to return to the Holy City—and I wanted to move my body again.
Ever since I’d started practicing my sword swings again, I’d developed a sort of compulsion. It might sound dramatic, but I felt like if I stopped being a swordsman, I’d stop being myself.
I’d been avoiding thinking too deeply about it since I lost the leg, but it was becoming clear.
To me, the sword was...
Perhaps it was even more important to me than I’d realized—
The moment was shattered without warning.
"—HUH!? UEHHHAAAAAAA!?"
A scream erupted from outside the room. It wasn't a cry of pain or terror, but a sound of pure, unadulterated shock. Like someone had just seen a legendary figure walk through the front door.
The commotion spread through the halls, sister after sister shouting in surprise. I heard a man's voice—affected and theatrical—saying, "Now, now, Mademoiselles, pray, compose yourselves!"
I leaned forward and rubbed my temples. That voice. Is it him? Why is an elite knight from the Cathedral out here?
As a headache began to form, the door flew open.
"Wolka-sama!!"
Contrary to my expectations, the person who burst in was a young sister.
I recognized those refined features and that radiant platinum-blonde hair. There was only one person in the world who would call a lowly adventurer like me "sama."
The Chryscles Holy Church is a second home for many adventurers, and Silvery Grey had been based in the Holy City for years. We had plenty of acquaintances at the Cathedral, the heart of the faith.
The sister who always handled my treatments was...
"...Anze?"
"Oh, Wolka-sama—!"
Anze rushed toward me, her face a mask of grief.
"Wolka-sama, Anze has come for you."
"A-Ah... right. Why are you here?"
Anze knelt before me, her eyes lingering briefly on my prosthetic and my eye patch.
"When I heard of your injuries, I could not sit still. Forgive me, I had no idea you were suffering such a terrible fate...!"
"I see. Sorry for worrying you."
Anze was a model sister—pure, kind, and devoted. She was a truly good person.
She was also, unfortunately, prone to extreme dramatic flair.
"But you need not worry any longer."
Even here, far from the Holy City, Anze’s intense personality was on full display. She took my hands in her own, her expression radiating a divine, overwhelming benevolence. Her voice rang out clearly, loud enough to be heard by everyone in the hall.
"We shall return to the Holy City at once. From this day forward, you shall live with me in the Cathedral!"
"""...Hah?"""
It was the first time since our party’s founding that I’d heard my comrades use such a murderous tone of voice.