The weight of it all was so intense I thought I might black out halfway through.
As soon as Shannon arrived at Le Bouquet and burst into my room, she began pouring out her heart like a condemned woman in a confessional. For someone like me who hates bad endings, it was... well, it was a lot to take.
I can’t believe all of that happened while I was unconscious. If you took that sequence of events and isolated it, you’d have the perfect setup for a tragic "misunderstanding" bad end. My stomach started to ache just listening to her; the aftertaste of the story was bitter.
I had assumed that Shannon, being a diligent clerk, might have tried to conduct an insensitive interview for the sake of the investigation, leading my Master to coldly rebuff her.
But the reality was far more tragic—a sequence of unfortunate timing and emotional disconnects. It made sense now why Master had looked so awkward earlier. From her perspective, she had essentially lashed out at an innocent bystander who just happened to be there at the worst possible moment.
"I’m so sorry... It’s because I was being intrusive and didn't think about everyone's feelings! I was so worried about you all that I felt like I had to do something, but I was really just thinking about myself...!"
Having finished her explanation, Shannon was a complete mess, her eyes brimming with tears as she stood before us.
Her cowlick—that signature charm point that looked like dog ears—was currently wilted and drooping. Those locks seemed to be directly linked to her emotions; they shriveled when she was sad and bounced energetically when she was happy. I briefly wondered if they weren't actually hair, but real dog ears disguised as a cowlick.
...Anyway, enough with the escapism.
The fact that Master and the others had such a painful misunderstanding with Shannon was ultimately my fault for pushing myself to the brink of death. Even if it was to shatter the shitty "total annihilation" end of the original work, I was painfully aware that I had put those close to me through hell.
"Listen... I’m sorry I worried you, Shannon."
"Wol-kun, you didn't do anything wrong! You’re the one who suffered a life-threatening injury! You’re the one who ended up with this body! You're the one going through the hardest time...!"
Please, stop crying so much. Shannon’s greatest strength and her greatest weakness was her capacity for empathy; she felt the pain of others as if it were her own, and she wept accordingly.
"It’s the Guild's fault... it’s my fault," she continued, sniffing and trying to steady her breathing. "The party I requested to conduct the investigation... they’re called Flamberge."
"Flamberge..."
The name rang a bell. If I recalled correctly, they were a reasonably successful A-rank party.
"It seems there was a problem within the party. After everything came to light, they were handed over to the Cathedral to face Judgement."
In this nation, "Judgement" referred to a trial conducted by the Chryscles Holy Church. It was, in every sense of the word, a court of law.
It was hard to believe. I didn't know Flamberge personally, but I had a vague memory of seeing them at the Guild. Specifically, one of them stood out.
"I think I remember a woman in that group with a very strong sense of justice. It’s hard to imagine something going wrong with her around."
She had been a warrior who led the party with a sharp, fearless tongue, never intimidated by her male counterparts. I wondered what could have happened to send a party with such a reliable leader to a religious trial.
"I don't have all the details myself, but..." Shannon’s expression grew even darker. "Apparently... that woman didn't actually participate in the investigation."
"Wait, what?"
"There was a falling out among the members, and the party was in the middle of an internal collapse. Because of that..."
So, because the party was fractured, the investigation might have been negligent? If that were true, then our tragedy wasn't just a freak accident.
"—It might have been a man-made disaster. That’s why I’m so, so sorry...!"
"...No."
I had already made my peace with the fact that the battle with the Life Reaper was an unavoidable fate.
The "Original Work" played out that way for a reason. The boss room was hidden by a sophisticated teleportation trap, and the moment you triggered it, you were forced into a lethal encounter. It was a "first-time player killer" trap in the truest sense. Honestly, blaming an investigation team for failing to detect that felt like an impossible standard.
If Flamberge had successfully found the trap and bravely activated it to investigate, they would have been wiped out instantly. Then the Guild would have sent another party, who would have also been wiped out. Eventually, the Knights would have been called in to form a large-scale expedition, and they, too, would have been slaughtered. It would have been a never-ending chain of death.
Compared to that, losing only my right eye and left leg was a stroke of incredible luck. From the moment the Life Reaper was placed in that dungeon, it was a trolley problem where sacrifice was inevitable. Labeling the accident a man-made disaster caused by Flamberge felt a bit unreasonable.
However.
That logic only held up if Flamberge had actually fulfilled their duties. If the investigation report contained irresponsible "negligence," the entire situation changed.
Clear Approval was a high-level responsibility for adventurers.
In the fantasy stories from my previous life, there was usually some convenient mechanic—like a dungeon "core" stopping or a clear piece of evidence appearing—to prove a boss was dead. This shitty world lacked such luxuries. Rare drops from boss monsters were the only clues, so the only way to confirm a clear was to send people in to check every single corner.
If Flamberge had abandoned their responsibility...
That was likely why the Cathedral was stepping in to bring every fact to light.
It was strange. What should have been a single footnote in the original plot had grown into a deep-rooted institutional crisis. Perhaps this had happened in the original story too, and I just never knew because the Protagonist avoided the Holy City.
"...Regardless, you aren't to blame, Shannon."
None of us held a grudge against her. If anything, Shannon was a victim too; she had trusted them with a request, only to be betrayed by their half-hearted work.
"I’m doing fine. I made it back with this leg, and I even trained with the others this morning."
I was getting used to life with a prosthetic. I could walk without a cane now, and my training had evolved from simple sword swings and calisthenics to light sparring with Yulitia and the others. Granted, I couldn't move much on this leg, so it mostly involved me parrying their attacks...
But it felt right. Perhaps because I was missing an eye and a leg, my other senses had sharpened; I could see my opponents' movements more clearly than ever before. If I could get a more advanced prosthetic and learn to step into my strikes, predicting and neutralizing an opponent might actually be possible.
It was what people called "counter-initiative"—wait, was that the right term? If I was predicting and moving first, maybe it wasn't a "counter"... well, whatever.
The point was, I was delving deeper into the essence of the sword, and I was actually feeling a bit excited about it. There was no need for her to worry.
"No one thinks this is your fault. How could we?"
I looked at Master. Now. If you’re going to apologize, do it now.
Master caught my gaze and flinched. "Ah, er, I'm sorry about before! Truly! I’m fine now, so p-please, forgive me...!"
Atri and Yulitia followed her lead.
"I’m sorry too," Atri said. "I took my feelings out on you."
"No one hates you, Shannon-san," Yulitia added. "We all love how kind you are!"
Shannon’s sobbing hitched for a second. Then, a fresh torrent of tears erupted, looking like a fountain from a gag manga.
"Waaaaah! You guys are too nice!!"
"Gyah!?"
Shannon lunged forward and tackled Master. She pulled Master’s small head into a tight embrace.
"Hic... sniff... I love you guys too! I love you so much!"
"Mmph—hey, stop that! Let go!"
"If there’s anything I can do, just say the word! I’ll work my hardest at anything!"
"I said let go of me!"
Master thrashed and complained, but Shannon wouldn't budge. With a tear-streaked face, the clerk gave a weak, blissful smile.
"Ehehe... Liesel has such cute little hands..."
"Wolka, save meeee!"
Yeah... she was definitely back to normal. Shannon had always doted on Master the most in our party. I decided to let Master suffer for a bit if it meant healing Shannon’s heart.
Seeing Shannon finally smile, we all let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Let! Me! Go!"
Only Master continued her futile struggle.
After she had satisfied her urge to cuddle Master, Shannon seemed much more energetic.
We took the opportunity to give her our official return report. When we told her about the incident with Ruerie and the Windmill party on our way back to the Holy City, her cowlick drooped again.
"...I see. So that happened too."
Reports of casualties were common in her line of work, but clearly, she would never get used to them. Still, she managed a smile to commend our efforts.
"Good job. Thank you for coming back safely."
"Of course we did."
The Holy City was a good place. While the Royal Capital might be more convenient, the Holy City was easier to breathe in. It felt like everyone lived with a certain level of freedom and ease. "Peace" was a word that felt like it was coined specifically for this place. The Royal Capital, on the other hand... well, it had a darkness that I didn't want to talk about.
"Right! Leave everything regarding the Guild to me!"
"Thanks, Shannon."
"No, I get why it’s hard for you to show your faces there right now. You’ve all been through so much, so please, just focus on resting!"
The Shannon who had been crushed by guilt earlier was gone. She pumped her fists with a determined "Right!"
"Well, I should get back to the—"
But the moment she stood up, she swayed violently as if hit by a wave of vertigo. Master and Yulitia immediately caught her by the arms and lowered her back down.
"What’s wrong? What happened?"
"Are you alright?"
"Oh—"
Shannon shook her head sluggishly, blinking repeatedly. "S-sorry. I just got dizzy all of a sudden..."
Now that I looked closer, I could see faint dark circles under her eyes, though they had been masked by her crying. If those were the result of a month of guilt-driven overwork and sleepless nights, it made sense that her exhaustion would catch up to her the moment she finally relaxed.
"Shannon-san, are you perhaps exhausted?"
"N-no, I’m fine!" She tried to stand again, brushing Yulitia off. She managed to stay upright this time, but her forced smile was brittle. "See? Perfectly fine! Really!"
She was clearly pushing herself. She tried to walk toward the door, but she lost her balance on the very first step. Atri stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
"No. Passage denied. You are wobbly."
"U-Uuuh..."
With no strength left in her body, Shannon slumped against Atri with a miserable groan.
"Can't walk straight. Dangerous."
"But... the report... I have to go back to the Guild and record it..."
Who cares about the report? Why are you being such a workaholic?
I was about to open my mouth to tell her to stay put when a familiar voice called out from the hallway.
"Hey, Wolka-kun. You in there?"
The voice was lazy and aloof. I recognized it immediately. "...Old man Fyuji?"
"Yeah. Can I come in?"
"Go ahead."
Fyuji opened the door and poked his head in. He was the quintessential sloppy middle-aged man of the Adventurer's Guild.
To be honest, even though I knew him, the man was an enigma. He was technically an instructor in charge of rookie training and exams, but he lacked any semblance of ambition. Most adventurers mocked him as a "daytime lantern"—a useless ornament. He spent most of his days lounging on the Guild’s sofas, much to the annoyance of Shannon and the other staff.
His grey-green hair was a mess of bedhead, and his stubble only added to his unkempt appearance. He wore the Guild uniform, but his collar was open, his sleeves were half-rolled, and his shirt was untucked. He was the definition of a "no-good old man."
However, I secretly suspected he was a total powerhouse.
Whenever he taught combat to rookies or mediated an adventurer's brawl, I caught glimpses of something else—a hidden, lethal aura. It felt like he had sharp weapons concealed in every shadow of his body.
But for now, he was just his usual lazy self. He sighed as he saw Shannon leaning against Atri.
"Did you make up with everyone, Shannon-chan?"
"Y-yes..."
"Good. Then you know you’ve hit your limit. Take the day off. The Guild can survive without you." He looked at us. "This girl hasn't stopped working for a month. And she hasn't been sleeping at home, either. This old man is losing his hair over it."
"Shannon..."
"Uuh..."
We were partly responsible for her state, so I couldn't exactly lecture her. But if she kept this up, our next meeting really would be in a hospital bed at the Cathedral.
Fyuji seemed to have anticipated this outcome. "Which is why—Roze!"
"Right here~!"
Roze, our reliable and handsome "onee," appeared from the hallway. He looked down at Shannon with a maternal warmth.
"Shannon-chan, you're staying here to rest. We’ve got empty rooms today anyway."
"N-no, I couldn't. If I just rest for a little bit, just a tiny bit—"
"Shannon-chan." Roze cut her off firmly. "After hearing that you haven't slept in a month, do you really think I’d let you leave? Hmm?"
"Eh? Um... hya!"
Roze reached out and traced a fingertip along Shannon’s cheek. His eyebrows shot up in faux horror.
"I knew it! Your beautiful skin is starting to flake! I absolutely will not allow this. Before you sleep, you're going to experience my signature skincare routine!"
"Hieh... no, um—"
While Shannon was still reeling, Roze moved like a whirlwind.
"And the food! Your hair is starved of nutrients. First, you're going to sleep, and when you wake up, I’m treating you to my special recovery menu!"
"Ro-Roze-san? Wait—hyah!?"
Roze scooped Shannon up in a bridal carry.
"Also, I’ve been making aroma candles lately. I’ll light some for you while you nap. Let me know what you think of them, okay? If they're good, I'll make them a new service at the inn!"
"Um, excuse me—!?"
"Anyway, I’m taking charge of this girl! See you later~!"
And just like that, he carried her out.
In the silence that followed the whirlwind, we all stood there, blinking. Fyuji was the only one who laughed.
"Man, Roze is something else. Talk about reliable."
"...Yeah."
The ability to force someone to rest without making it feel like an interrogation or a struggle—Roze was truly in a class of his own. I felt like I could leave anything to that man and it would be fine.
Between Rosche and Roze, the men in my life were all incredibly capable ikemen. I guess this is what it feels like to be a "mob" character overshadowed by "cheat" characters. Well, I am a mob, so it fits.
To skip ahead: Shannon slept like a log in a room filled with the scent of Roze’s aroma candles, finally waking up around dusk. After being lectured by Roze about the dangers of overwork, she came back to my room to apologize.
"Roze-san really gave it to me," she said, looking much more refreshed. The skincare treatment had worked wonders; her skin was practically glowing. "He asked me who would actually be happy if I worked myself into an early grave..."
"I... I’ve always been like this. My feelings get ahead of me. When I was a kid, my friends used to tell me I was annoying because of it."
It was true that Shannon could be a bit overbearing when she got emotional. Depending on the situation, some people might find her intense.
But I respected her for it. I truly did. There aren't many people in this world who act so selflessly or cry so genuinely for the sake of others. In my previous life, that kind of raw humanity was a dying breed. To a reincarnated soul like me, Shannon was dazzling.
"Do you remember when we first met?" I asked.
"Eh? Um... that was when I showed you guys around the city, right?"
"Yeah. When Silvery Grey first arrived in the Holy City, you spent the whole day showing us the sights and helping us find an inn. You could say it was your job, but..."
"But?"
"You were on vacation that day, weren't you?"
"Oh! Right, that’s how it was. We just happened to meet on the street..."
Exactly. Even on her day off, Shannon had gone out of her way to help us. She didn't look annoyed for a single second. She stayed with us until the sun went down, excitedly telling us about the best food and the most interesting shops.
That was who she was.
"The reason we chose the Holy City as our base... meeting you was part of that decision."
Shannon went silent.
Her bright, welcoming smile had made the city look even more beautiful than it already was. I remember thinking that if a city had people like her, it had to be a good place to live. If we hadn't met her that day, Silvery Grey might be based somewhere else entirely right now.
Sure, we’d had a bit of a misunderstanding this time, but that’s just life. We’d made up, and that was enough. I reached out with my right hand.
"I’m looking forward to working with you from now on, Shannon."
Shannon stared at my hand for a moment. She fought back tears, wiping her eyes before gripping my hand firmly.
"—Yeah! I’m looking forward to it too, Wol-kun!"
Her "dog ears" were standing tall again.
I smiled. Girls really are better when they're laughing.
At roughly the same time, atop the tower that pierced the sky above the Cathedral—within the "Holy Sanctum," the private living quarters of the Saints.
"Anze, Dia, do you have a moment?"
"Yes. Is something wrong?"
"Hmm?"
The Saint of the Sword Crest, the Saint of the Snow Crest, the Saint of the Star Crest, and the Saint of the Moon Crest—the four young women who sat at the pinnacle of the Chryscles Holy Church—were gathered in their lounge.
"I heard from the Elder earlier..."
"They're awarding that man his reward tomorrow, aren't they?"
"Yes! Wolka-sama will be coming here!"
"Ooh. It’s a good chance to meet him. I think I’ll be the one to present the reward."
The voices mingled: the pure, melodic tone of the Sword Saint; the casual, unrefined voice of the Snow Saint; the youthful, elegant clarity of the Star Saint; and the monotone, sleepy drawl of the Moon Saint.
"I actually have a suggestion regarding that."
"What is it?"
"I was thinking... why don't you two meet Wolka-sama as well? Just a thought."
"Actually, that’s exactly what I was hoping for!"
"Wait... for real?"
"...For real."
"Oh my...!"
The Saints continued their discussion.
"Seriously? I can understand Yuri, but even Alka?"
"Is it... a problem?"
"Not a problem, but the ceremony is in the chapel below. We’d have to actually leave this floor."
"Well... it might be nice to breathe the air down there for once."
"Please! You really must meet him! I’m sure you’ll both find him wonderful! Wolka-sama is, well, he’s—"
"Yeah, yeah, we can hear the 'Wolka-sama' lecture later! Anyway, this is getting interesting. Let's all go down and surround him together."
"Fufu. I’m quite excited to see what kind of man he is."
"If he looks like he’ll make my life easier... let's just hire him to work at the church..."
They were having a conversation that would have made Wolka’s stomach tie itself in knots.