Shannon barely remembered how she made it through the following day.
The fact that she could wake up at her usual time, wash her face, change into her uniform, and even eat until her hunger was satisfied was merely a result of habits etched into her soul by her life as a guild clerk. She vaguely recalled a flicker of self-loathing at how shamelessly her body demanded food even in the midst of such despair.
She must have helped Fyuji with his work afterward, but the details were a blur. For all she knew, she had simply been an obstacle. Yet Fyuji never complained, nor did he demand anything of her.
—Listen, and listen well. That boy, Wolka.
—His left leg was amputated, and he has likely lost his right eye. It’s a miracle he even survived. He still hasn’t regained consciousness.
The words the Old Sister had spoken yesterday refused to leave the back of her mind for even a second.
There had been a lapse in the investigation for the Clear Approval Shannon had arranged, and the party had been ambushed by a powerful monster at the worst possible moment—that was now an undeniable fact. But even so, what kind of nightmare could bring a party as legendary as Silvery Grey to the brink of annihilation? What kind of cruelty had Wolka and the others been dragged into?
Why did this have to happen to them?
The question cycled through her mind in an endless, agonizing loop.
"Shannon."
She couldn't recall exactly when Fyuji had spoken to her in that quiet, reasoning tone.
"Tomorrow, we’ll go to the church one last time. Whether we see Wolka and the others or not, we’re handing the rest over to the locals and heading back. The people at the Holy City are waiting for us."
He was right. Shannon and Fyuji had come as representatives of the Holy City Guild solely to investigate the accident and offer support. They hadn't come to save Silvery Grey. Their real work would begin only after they returned to the capital; they weren't in a position to linger in this town.
And yet, the thought of leaving without seeing them even once was unbearable.
Wolka, hovering between life and death after losing an eye and a leg, still unconscious. Liesel and the others, so shattered by despair that the Sister wouldn't even allow visitors.
Shannon didn't know what she could possibly say to them. Perhaps there were no words left in the world that she had the right to offer.
Even so.
If she didn't do something, however small, she felt as if her heart would simply stop.
The next morning, Shannon finished packing her bags for the journey home before heading to the church one last time.
She wanted to see them—if only for a moment. But even as she prayed for the chance, her footsteps were heavy with dread. If her wish were granted, how much could she actually endure? Could she stand to see Wolka broken and silent? Could she bear the sight of Liesel and Yulitia consumed by grief? A cowardly voice in the corner of her mind whispered that it might be easier to turn back now and avoid the regret.
As they reached the long slope leading to the church, Fyuji glanced at her over his shoulder.
"You doing okay, Shannon?"
"Honestly? I'm really not," Shannon replied with a hollow, self-mocking laugh. How could she be? Something terrible had happened to her favorite adventurers; staying calm would have been a sign of madness. If she had a target for her rage, she would have lashed out with everything she had.
Instead, she whispered, "But Liesel and the others... they must be hurting so much more."
"..."
They continued up the path. Before long, Shannon noticed a figure walking down the slope toward them. Her mind was so clouded with dark thoughts that she didn't look closely, assuming it was just another Sister.
"Atri?"
"Wait—"
Fyuji’s voice snapped her back to reality.
It felt like a physical blow. As her vision cleared, she realized the person before her was certainly no Sister. She saw the light brown skin rare in these lands and the exotic, revealing attire of a distant country.
There was no mistaking her.
"A-Atri...!"
"...?"
Shannon rushed to her side. The girl—Atri—tilted her head slightly.
"Shannon?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Hey there, Atri," Fyuji said, catching up.
"Fyuji..."
Atri met his gaze with a vacant, distant stare. Shannon felt a momentary surge of relief. Cool, mysterious, and impossible to read—this was the Atri she knew.
But that was exactly why Shannon didn't know what to say.
"Um, well..."
She hadn't expected to run into her here, but more than that, it felt wrong for Atri to be "normal." Wolka was at death's door; no matter how stoic she was, she couldn't be fine. Shannon wavered between trying to be her usual cheerful self or choosing her words with extreme care to offer quiet support.
Atri broke the silence before Shannon could decide.
Her words were cold, devoid of any warmth, as if she were addressing a total stranger.
"What do you want?"
"Wh-What?"
"If you don't want anything, move. You're in the way."
Shannon felt a sharp pang in her chest, as if a set of claws had suddenly tightened around her heart. Her breath hitched.
"A-Atri? I, uh..."
"Don't get in my way."
Shannon recognized that tone. She had heard it when a stranger tried to flirt with Yulitia, or when a drunkard ruined a quiet dinner. It was the voice Atri used when she had absolutely zero interest in a person.
"Are you off on important business, Atri?" Fyuji asked, stepping in for the speechless Shannon.
Atri’s reply remained frigid. "Going outside. Hunting monsters."
Shannon couldn't believe her ears. "What? You're not going alone, surely—"
"What does it matter?"
Atri spoke with utter indifference, as if nothing in the world mattered anymore.
This isn't right. This isn't the Atri I know.
It was true that Atri was blunt and struggled with socializing. When they first met, she had been just as curt and unapproachable. But over time, as Shannon supported Silvery Grey, Atri had begun to show small changes in her expressions. She had slowly revealed herself to be a girl with a heart.
But the girl standing there now... she was even colder than the day they had met.
She had to be at her breaking point. Shannon could only assume that Atri was spiraling into self-destruction, driven by the guilt of failing to protect her companion.
Shannon reached out to stop her. "Wait! Wolka is still—"
"—Shut up."
It wasn't quite a murderous intent.
But it was a sharp, biting pressure that felt like teeth bared at her throat. It was unmistakable hostility.
"Move."
"...!"
Shannon didn't step aside because she was intimidated. It was because Fyuji grabbed her arm and pulled her back, causing her to stumble out of the way.
Atri didn't look at them again. Without a word of farewell, she began walking down the slope with a stiff, chilling resolve, looking as if she would cut down anything that dared to stand in her path.
She looked possessed, but Fyuji kept a firm grip on Shannon's arm.
"Don't worry about her," he said. "The Arsvalem Tribe doesn't throw their lives away like that."
"But..."
Shannon felt the weight of her own inadequacy. If even Atri, the most resilient among them, was like this, then what state were Liesel and Yulitia in? She hadn't been able to say a single word to Atri’s back. What could she possibly achieve at the church? Perhaps the Old Sister had been right. Perhaps she should just give up and leave them be.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Shannon?" Fyuji asked gently. "The other two might be just as bad."
"..."
"No one would call you a coward for turning back. Sometimes, staying away is the kinder choice."
In hindsight, Fyuji was probably right. But Shannon couldn't accept it.
"I can't...! I just can't accept this...!"
She hated the thought of doing nothing while they suffered. She couldn't stand being useless. Driven by a foolish, self-centered streak of stubbornness, she refused to back down.
"You again."
The Old Sister met them at the church, looking troubled as soon as she saw Shannon’s face. She sighed. "I’m sorry, but those children still—"
"Please," Shannon interrupted, bowing her head in a desperate plea. "Just for a moment. Please, let me see them."
"..."
The Old Sister looked at Fyuji. He offered a tired, faint smile. "I know why you're hesitant. But I also know how much she needs this."
The silence in the entrance hall stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Shannon began to fear the answer would be no.
"The girl with the brown skin just left... did you see her?" the Sister asked at last.
Shannon looked up quickly. "Y-Yes."
"The other two are in a far worse state than her. Do you still wish to go in?"
Shannon bit her lip, enduring the ache in her chest. "Yes."
"I see." The Sister’s stern expression softened slightly, showing the first sign of relenting. "Fine. Follow me."
"...!"
"However," she warned, her gaze sharpening again, "be extremely careful with your words. Do not say anything to provoke them or force them to relive the accident. Especially the mage, Liesel. I don't know what might set her off in her current state."
"..."
"The moment I decide you've done enough, you leave. Understood?"
Shannon met her eyes and nodded. "Yes."
"Follow me."
The walk down the church corridor felt endlessly long, as if they were moving into a dark, isolated world. The Sister stopped before a nondescript door.
"Wait here."
She knocked softly and entered alone. After a minute, the door creaked open, and the Sister signaled Shannon to enter. Shannon took a deep breath, steeled her resolve, and stepped inside.
"Excuse me..."
Despite the gravity of the situation, the room didn't feel cold. The morning sun poured through the windows, making the ward feel almost mockingly warm and bright.
On the bed, Wolka lay still. Under the blanket, he looked like he was simply sleeping.
Beside the bed sat two small figures, their backs to the door.
"Liesel... Yulitia..."
Shannon whispered their names, but there was no response. She looked to the Sister for permission to approach, and after receiving a nod, she crept closer. She knelt down to look at their faces.
"—!"
In that instant, Shannon wanted to pull them both into a tight embrace and never let go.
Their eyes were hollow. There was no light, no heart, no sign of life in their gaze. They looked like porcelain dolls with clouded glass eyes.
"Liesel! Yulitia!"
"...Ah."
Shannon called out more forcefully, and Yulitia finally blinked. A faint, blurred flicker of recognition appeared in her eyes.
"Shannon-san? Why are you here...?"
"Heh... I wonder why," Shannon said, forcing a cheerful smile. She felt that if she didn't act happy, she might shatter into pieces right then and there. "I was worried about you."
"I'm sorry..." Yulitia looked down, biting her lip.
Both girls looked terrible. Their hair was matted, and their eyes were red and raw from crying. They were clearly exhausted, having neither eaten nor slept properly. Shannon had never seen anyone look so much like a hollow shell.
Her throat tightened. She had wanted so badly to help, but now that she was here, she was paralyzed. She was terrified that anything she said would only cause more harm. She felt as if she were standing at the foot of an impossibly high wall, dizzy with helplessness.
She looked away, her eyes falling on Wolka. The shape of the blanket where his left leg should have been was unnaturally flat. The scar on his face, stretching from his forehead to his cheek, was a jagged reminder of the violence he'd endured. He would have to wear an eyepatch for the rest of his life.
The sight tore at her. If it hurt Shannon this much, what kind of hell had the girls been through? Wolka was only seventeen. His life was supposed to be just beginning.
Sadness turned to a bitter, burning resentment. With injuries like these, his future was—
"Why...? How did this happen...?"
The horrific thought slipped out before she could stop it.
That was the turning point.
"Why...?"
A voice like dead ash rose from the chair.
Liesel. She remained slumped over, but her lips were moving.
"Why? You're asking... why?"
"Eh?"
Shannon turned. The Sister’s face twisted in alarm, and she reached out to intervene.
It was too late.
"—THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW!"
It wasn't a cry or a scream; it was a raw, agonizing howl of pure suffering.
Liesel kicked her chair back as she stood. The loud crack of the wood hitting the floor sounded like a final gavel. She wasn't looking at anyone. She stared at the empty floor, clutching her head as her body shook.
"Why?! Why Wolka?! Why... why?! Someone tell me!"
"Liesel, I—"
"Why?! Why, why, why, why?!"
Mana exploded from Liesel's body. Her silver hair began to glow with a beautiful, distorted light. It was a Magic Power Rampage. Her uncontrolled energy whipped into a localized storm, a violent vortex that rattled the windowpanes and knocked objects off the tables.
"Liesel-san!"
This clearly wasn't the first time. Yulitia moved instantly, pulling Liesel into her arms and holding her tight against the erupting mana.
"Liesel-san, please. It's dangerous. I'm right here, okay?" she said in a voice so gentle it was terrifying.
The Sister grabbed Shannon’s arm and hauled her toward the door. "I told you to be careful!"
"I... I didn't mean..."
Shannon was practically shoved out of the room. She collapsed to the floor in the hallway, her mind unable to process the chaos.
Why? That was all she had said. One single word.
"Get out! Everyone get out! Just leave us alone!"
The Sister worked quickly to weave a stabilizing spell while Fyuji stood over Shannon to protect her. As the "poison" of the situation finally settled in, Shannon realized what she had done.
Fortunately, Liesel’s mana didn't cause a catastrophic explosion. The surge eventually cracked the window glass and then subsided, leaving only the sound of a girl sobbing into Yulitia’s chest.
Shannon was broken. She couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't even stand. She realized, with cold clarity, that there was absolutely nothing she could do for them.
"Let's go, Shannon," Fyuji said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing for us here."
"..."
She felt so utterly, completely useless. She had thought of herself as their "big sister," someone who would always be there to support them.
But in the end, she had only managed to irritate Atri and drive Liesel and Yulitia further into their grief.
Coming here had been a mistake.
"Liesel... Yulitia..." Shannon’s voice trembled with pathetic, weak sobs. She tried to smile one last time, but it must have looked grotesque. "I'll... I'll be waiting for you. I'll be waiting in the Holy City..."
The words fell flat, echoing hollowly in the hall. They reached no one.
Driven by an overwhelming sense of failure, Shannon had to be led back to the entrance by Fyuji. He sat her down on a bench. In the distance, she heard the Sister and Fyuji talking.
"...Now you see what I meant," the Sister said. "We can't even ask them what happened. One wrong word and they lose control like that."
"I'm sorry for the trouble," Fyuji replied.
"It's alright."
Liesel’s scream continued to ring in Shannon's ears.
She felt pathetic. She had played at being a mature adult, yet she had folded the moment things got hard. She hadn't been a source of strength; she had been a nuisance. She felt a disgust for herself so deep she wanted to scream.
"The girls tried their best to tell me what they could... I wrote it down here," the Sister said, handing Fyuji a slip of paper. Fyuji read it in silence, his expression unreadable as he folded it and tucked it away.
"Thank you."
"It's my job. As painful as it is."
"Yeah... I hear you."
(It's my fault.)
Shannon remembered Atri’s anger, Yulitia’s hollow eyes, and Liesel’s despair. If there had been a mistake in the paperwork, it was her responsibility. She had fixated on "helping" them, but had that really been for them? Or had she just been trying to ease her own conscience?
She had been selfish.
A dark memory from years ago threatened to resurface. Meeting Silvery Grey had been the highlight of her life. They were like the younger siblings she never had. They had accepted her annoying, overbearing personality and treated her as an equal.
But they probably hated her now. They probably hated the Holy City. They might never come back.
Everything she loved was shattering, and she was powerless to stop it.
"Let's go home, Shannon. Shannon?"
Her heart ached with a dull, throbbing pain. She wiped her tears again and again.
She wiped them.
She wiped them.
She wiped them.
"Sorry," Fyuji said to the Sister. "Could you give her a moment to compose herself?"
"Of course."
Shannon couldn't stop the sobs. For the first time in a very long time, she truly hated herself, and she hated this world.
"—So, I thought... I thought Wolka and the others would never come back to the Holy City... and that they hated meeee! Waaaaah!"
"O-Oh..."
So, apparently, that was the drama that had unfolded between Shannon and the others while I was unconscious.
Good grief, that’s way too much for anyone to handle...!
My stomach... Oh, my stomach hurts...