"Senpai... I have a bad feeling about that party."
To rewind slightly: this took place when we, Silvery Grey, were first approached by Ruerie and the rest of Windmill at the guild. This was the strategy meeting the four of us held afterward.
"It feels like Ruerie-san is... afraid of those two. Are they really her comrades?"
"..."
To be honest, Yulitia’s intuition was remarkably reliable. Her natural personality, combined with her upbringing, made her exceptionally keen at sensing the subtle flickers of caution or fear in another woman’s heart. I’d also felt a certain staginess—a lingering sense of wrongness—and if Yulitia was saying it too, then it wasn't just my imagination.
The expressions on Master’s and Atri’s faces also betrayed deep suspicion.
"Indeed. Setting the girl aside, the men... they have a somewhat fishy scent about them."
"Agreed."
Hmm, it was impressive that they could be so certain. To be able to perceive someone's true nature before even holding a conversation—that was a talent that deserved to be called magical.
Come to think of it, I recalled the protagonist of 'The Original Work' getting caught up in a similar situation.
My meager knowledge of the novel, which I hadn't thought about in quite a while, resurfaced.
If I recall, the incident began when two girls started recruiting help, saying, "Please help us find our lost companion." The targets were a "mob" party that had no real connection to the protagonist. However, the protagonist happened to run into that group while out hunting monsters and, sensing a strange atmosphere, decided to temporarily accompany them.
As expected of that protagonist; even while acting like a lone wolf who supposedly hated socializing, he could never turn a blind eye to someone in danger. Because of that, the fans often treated him like a new breed of tsundere.
Later, after following the girls' guidance, the group was suddenly ambushed by Ruffians. That was when the truth came out: the "search for their companion" was a total lie. In reality, their actual comrades were being held hostage, and the girls had been coerced into luring "prey" to the Ruffians' hunting grounds.
The "prey" referred to the innocent adventurers who had cooperated with the girls out of the goodness of their hearts. I remembered it being an especially vile plot—exploiting and then trampling upon human goodwill.
While the Ruffians were eventually annihilated by the protagonist’s overwhelming power, the hostages were already... that was how it ended. I remember it being quite a gut-wrenching read. The final scene closed with the girl's wailing as she clutched her companion’s corpse.
"...I see. In that case—"
Combining everyone's intuition with my knowledge of 'The Original Work,' the pieces fit.
Those two men calling themselves Cain and Lloyd are likely Ruffians. They are monitoring the young Ruerie, pretending to be her comrades to ensure she carries out their orders. Ruerie is desperately trying to lure "prey" while suppressing her terror, all to save her companions who are being held hostage.
Considering that Yulitia had been stalked previously, it was possible that Silvery Grey had been marked as a target since then. If they saw me being pushed around in a wheelchair in town, they probably thought it was a lucky break—that we were carrying a perfect "burden." Thinking about it that way, even that comedy-like apology from earlier seemed suspicious, likely a performance to lower our guard.
The thought of it made me feel physically sick.
If this deduction was correct, Ruerie was being forced to call the scum who had harmed her friends "comrades" and to interact with them with a smile. She was being forced to aid the Ruffians' gang and stain her own hands with evil.
Then, just what must Ruerie...
Be feeling right now?
"..."
In the pit of my stomach, a dark, bitter sediment began to swirl and cloud.
I told you, didn't I?—I absolutely loathe bad endings. Even if it's a stranger I’ve never met, I can’t stand watching someone be unreasonably tormented before my eyes until the light leaves them.
It’s painful, it’s nauseating, and the displaced rage feels like it's going to fry my brain. Why do people do things like that? Why can’t they just let her smile? Even if this were just a work of fiction, is causing someone pain really that much fun?
That vile, degenerate dark fantasy world that had thoroughly shattered my emotions in my previous life.
To me, this world was no longer fiction.
It was reality. I was living here. Everyone was living here.
Ruerie wasn't just a "character." She was a real girl living in this world just like me—
"—Then, we accept."
A girl’s voice, nearly devoid of emotion, sliced through my spiraling thoughts.
It was Atri.
"In situations like this, we should pretend to be fooled and then crush them all together."
"Atri..."
Indeed, that was what the Silvery Grey of old would have done. We weren't a charity organization that went around helping everyone, but we always did what we could for those within our reach. Ever since the party was just me and Master, that was how we operated.
But was it right for me to prioritize my emotions here? Master and the others were with me, and right now, I was just a liability with one eye and one leg. Even if we faced them head-on like the original protagonist, it wouldn't be me, but Master and the others who would be walking into danger.
I had already been enough of a burden to them since I ended up like this—
"Wolka."
Her voice was soft, almost like a gentle scolding.
"Making a face like that, you have no persuasiveness."
"..."
What kind of face was I making? I’m sure it was a miserable one.
"Are we... unreliable?"
"—That's not it."
"Then, rely on us. We're companions, aren't we?"
...Right.
Atri was correct. To her, it must look like I didn't trust my own party. From her perspective, my hesitation must have felt like a rejection of everything she was. I would have felt the same way if I were in her shoes.
"Senpai. I feel the same way."
Yulitia also had a fierce determination in her eyes, a look that suggested she was ready to offer up her life.
"I want to be your strength, Senpai. Please..."
Seriously, what was wrong with my face? They were taking this incredibly heavily.
"Wolka...!"
Furthermore, Master gripped my hand tightly with both of hers, her voice sounding as if her heart were breaking.
"Don't try to carry it all alone...! We'll carry the burden together...!"
Wait, just how serious did they think this was?! These were the kind of lines you used to talk someone out of a suicide mission. I mean, sure, the cruelty of this degenerate world was a serious problem to me, but I was really just having a moment of "Damn this dark fantasy world."
Besides, it’s not that I don't trust them. On the contrary, I think I understand better than anyone in this world just how strong and reliable my companions are.
The root of my inner conflict was simply my own frustration at being able to do nothing but rely on them. If even one of my legs were functional, I could have fought alongside them. As it stood, the most I could do was try not to be an obstacle.
It’s a matter of... pride, I guess.
From the outside, it probably looked like I was just living the high life, being protected by beautiful women. If that old man were still alive, he’d probably let out a sigh of disappointment so loud it would shake the room.
It’s not logical; it’s just a "man" thing.
I definitely need to find a better prosthetic once we reach the Holy City. I went through the trouble of avoiding the bad ending from the original work; if the only result is that I become a sheltered burden who forces others into danger, then I’ve failed.
"—I understand. Thank you, everyone."
I was truly grateful for their willingness to help. However, I knew I couldn't just grow complacent and take it for granted. Even if it was impossible now, I had to gradually increase what I could do, return to normal life, and eventually, return to the sword.
If I didn't, everyone would remain trapped in a cycle of guilt and regret forever.
Even in a dark fantasy world where some injustice is always waiting around the corner, I’m not giving up...!
"—I see. So, the request might be a trap set by Ruffians."
"Yeah."
At sunset on the day before the suspicious request, we gathered everyone in the church’s infirmary—our final night's lodging—and explained the situation to Rosche and Anze.
"Sorry for dragging you into this."
I bowed my head to the two of them. Even though we had planned to travel to the Holy City together anyway, they were being pulled into a mess they hadn't signed up for.
However, Rosche and Anze both beamed with smiles.
"Haha, don't be so formal! I’d much rather you let us help. Right, Anze?"
"Yes."
Anze clasped her hands in prayer against her chest.
"I will mend all wounds. Please, have no fear."
"Thank you."
Even if the opponents were just thugs, there was always a risk to their lives—yet they agreed without a second thought. I really am blessed with my companions.
"Besides, given our combined strength, we can hardly turn a blind eye, can we?"
Rosche gallantly brushed back his bangs and declared grandly:
"Lady Liesel, who wields magic surpassing even a Sage! Lady Atri, of the legendary Arsvalem Tribe! Lady Yulitia, with her brilliant sword talent and infinite potential! —And me!!"
The narcissism of putting himself as the grand finale was impressive. Well, he actually is incredibly strong, so I’ll let it slide.
Having satisfied himself with the pose, Rosche calmed his voice.
"And you as well. You are the swordsman who achieved the magnificent feat of slaying the Grim Reaper alone. Even in your current state, ordinary men couldn't hope to match you."
"That's right! I think so too."
Yulitia?
"I have the feeling that even if I threw you in front of an Ogre right now, you’d slay it with a perfectly bored expression."
"There's no way I—"
"I truly believe that!"
Yulitia cut me off with such conviction that I was left speechless. Slaying an Ogre with one eye and one leg? That’s not a swordsman; that’s a monster.
I cleared my throat.
"Regardless, we have no proof. It's almost certain Ruerie is lying, but still..."
"In that case, Wolka-sama."
Anze spoke up, modestly raising her hand.
"What if I were to take a 'look' at them?"
"?"
I frowned, not following her meaning. Anze kept her hand over her heart.
"I can determine if someone is a sinner just by looking at them."
"You can do that?"
"Yes, I am a Sister of the Cathedral, after all."
The Cathedral’s Sisters are terrifying. To expose a person's sins just by looking at them—it was like meeting a judge of the underworld.
"However... I am still quite inexperienced, so I can only see very recent sins..."
"I think that's more than enough."
"No, I am a mere novice. Did you know? One of the Saints at the Cathedral, the Saint of Star Eyes, is said to be able to see through every lie and every sin a person has committed over their entire life."
Forget "like" a judge of the underworld; there was an actual one in this world. I definitely never want to meet the Saint of Star Eyes. She’d probably see right through me being a reincarnator.
Well, as a lowly adventurer, there was almost zero chance I’d ever cross paths with a Saint, so it was probably a groundless worry. To me, they were beings as distant as the stars.
"If things are as you fear, Wolka-sama, I believe I can be of service."
"I see. Anze, may I ask this of you?"
"Yes... yes! If I can be of help to you, please, tell me to do anything!"
She looked so delighted it actually startled me. I still felt guilty about how depressed she’d become when I turned down her support as a Sister earlier. I thought I’d done something terrible back then, but seeing this intensity... if I hadn't turned her down, she might have kidnapped me to the Cathedral for a life of total, pampered decadence.
Anze, you’re really a bit too extreme.
"That’s good, Anze."
"Yes!"
"Then, let me know the moment you find anything. I shall relay it to everyone via Telepathia."
"Understood. I look forward to working with you, Lieselalte-sama."
Still... no matter how often I saw it, they really were an incredibly reliable group.
That was exactly why my own helplessness was so frustrating. I don’t think I was wrong to fight as hard as I did back then, and I don’t regret it for a second.
But losing the leg... like that incident with the prosthetic the other day, it just weighed on me sometimes.
If the protagonist of the original work had been in that situation, he wouldn't have had to fight with his life on the line. He would have coldly and instinctively found the perfect solution to cut through. He might not have come out unscathed, but he would be physically whole, and he wouldn't have made anyone sad.
"..."
No, I need to stop. Ever since I smashed that prosthetic, I’ve been having too many stray thoughts. I shook my head mentally. There was no point in dwelling on the past. 'Get back to the Holy City and find a better leg'—for now, I had to move toward that goal.
Therefore, I didn't notice.
Just as I was switching my mindset, I let out a tiny, barely audible sigh—and Yulitia and Atri were watching it intently from the darkness of my right field of vision.
The night deepened, and the lights of the city vanished one by one until only the pale moonlight remained. The adventurers had all returned to their lodgings, finishing their conversations, meals, baths, and gear maintenance—everything required at the end of the day—before finally settling into bed.
In a cramped double room at the most affordable adventurer's inn in town, Yulitia and Atri sat on their beds, facing each other. Illuminated by a magic stone lamp, Atri looked so pained she seemed as though she might vanish into the night at any moment.
Yulitia figured that if even Atri looked like that, her own face must be even worse.
"Senpai... was blaming himself, wasn't he?"
"...Yeah."
Wolka never said it out loud, but there was no mistaking it. Wolka was mourning his broken body. If only he weren't like this, he could fight too—he was blaming his own worthlessness for having to be protected by them.
Even though Wolka had done nothing wrong. Even though the reason he was in that state was because Yulitia and the others hadn't been strong enough.
"He looked... like he was in so much pain."
"Yes."
As far as Yulitia knew, Wolka was a man who hated seeing someone suffer unjustly more than anything. At first, she thought he was simply a kind-hearted person with a strong sense of justice. But the more she watched his back, the more she realized the emotions smoldering inside him were not so simple.
Earlier that day, when Yulitia had looked at the men claiming to be Ruerie's comrades with suspicion. He didn't burn with righteous indignation, nor did he simply feel pity for Ruerie.
It was—a sorrow and disappointment toward the world itself, so deep it was frightening.
He wasn't just angry at the Ruffians using Ruerie; he was angry at the world for allowing such things to exist.
It was as if his heart had been betrayed by reality over and over again since long before Yulitia had ever met him.
Wolka was the oldest in the party after Liesel, but at seventeen, he should still be considered a youth.
And yet, in his life before he met them—a life that should have been his childhood—just what had he seen?
Perhaps Wolka had walked a path more tragic than any of them could imagine. A past so harrowing that Yulitia's own mistreatment at the hands of her brothers would seem like a joke by comparison.
He said he spent his childhood training under his grandfather.
But could someone reach such a height of swordsmanship through that alone? Why would that lead to such profound disappointment in the world?
There had to be something. A reason why he had to become that strong, beyond just mastering the blade. A reason why the world had failed him.
Why hadn't she ever questioned it before?
She felt ashamed of herself for knowing nothing about him while just looking up to him with starry eyes.
Wolka was blaming himself for not being able to swing his sword. He had slain a nightmare like the Grim Reaper alone; no one would ever mock his injuries as a sign of weakness, yet he alone was regretting his "weakness" for having to sacrifice his eye and leg to survive.
It was as if he were comparing himself to someone else—someone who could have survived that situation without a scratch.
And that was why Yulitia was suddenly terrified.
That at this rate, Wolka might throw his life away again someday.
It wouldn't be a logical choice. In that moment, he would simply decide to sacrifice himself without a second thought, driven by instinct. He would choose to die because he believed that was all he was good for now that he couldn't fight.
That was why...
"Atri-san. If those people really are Ruffians... I will never forgive them."
When he broke his prosthetic leg, Wolka had looked as though the path he’d walked—and the path he was meant to walk—had completely collapsed. That suffering was already more than he deserved, yet those people were trying to torment him further by using an innocent girl in the exact way he couldn't ignore.
She couldn't allow it.
For Wolka to suffer any more, or to sacrifice himself again... absolutely not.
That was why Yulitia and the others had to... eliminate them.
"...Are you sure? You don't have to force yourself. I can handle that part."
Yulitia understood what Atri meant. She wasn't used to killing people. It was her own lingering softness, her desire to avoid conflict. Just as she still struggled to firmly reject the men who pestered her, she instinctively hoped things could be resolved without drawing blood.
But then, a memory resurfaced.
Since Silvery Grey had taken its current form, they had fought Ruffians several times. Once, because Yulitia had hesitated to deliver a finishing blow, Wolka had stepped in to protect her and was injured.
It had only been a shallow cut on his arm, but if things had gone slightly differently, it could have been a wound that ended his life as a swordsman.
In the depths of her heart, a heavy, viscous emotion began to boil.
She spoke.
"I'm fine."
While the person she loved and respected most was suffering, to prioritize her own comfort—that was unthinkable.
She would not repeat her mistakes.
"I will fight too. Let’s eliminate them. Every... last... one."
"Understood."
Atri nodded, glad that Yulitia felt the same way. For Atri, as long as they were all working together to protect Wolka, that was enough.
She didn't notice that Yulitia's eyes, caught in the lamplight, were darker than the shadows of the room, devoid of any emotion at all.
And even if she had noticed, she likely wouldn't have cared.