“...U-Um, I brought another helping... but...”
“Ah, eh, erm, well... aha, ahahaha...”
“Ah—s-sorry! I got the lunchtime wrong! I’ll come back later!”
The Sister, who read the room perfectly, hurried away. I watched her leave with a slight pang of guilt.
“—T-That was a most unsightly thing for you to see...”
Sitting on the crisp, white bed of the Cathedral’s medical ward, Shiarie’s face looked even redder than usual, appearing as if steam were whistling off her skin. In this room within the ward attached to the Cathedral, we had finally come face-to-face with the awakened Shiarie, but—
“...It is very difficult for me to say this, but this is my older sister, Shiarie.”
“Uu, don’t say it’s difficult to say...”
It turned out to be a much more bizarre meeting than I had expected. Introduced by Ruerie with a chilly gaze, Shiarie shrunk back meekly, looking as if she wanted to wither away.
To start with her appearance, she was unmistakably Ruerie’s older sister. Her hair was medium-length in the back, similar to Yulitia’s, with side locks bundled together reaching down to her chest—if you took Ruerie’s hairstyle and grew it out just a bit longer, it would be a perfect match for Shiarie’s. Her violet hair, which had been completely damaged from being trapped in the ruins for days, was already reclaiming its lustrous sheen and a startling level of vitality, perhaps because the energy from the delicious food was already circulating through her system.
Since Ruerie was fourteen, Shiarie was likely around my age. According to her, she ate five times a day to pack in nutrition as she grew up. Her height seemed about the same as Atri’s, if not taller, and as for her other physical proportions—suffice it to say, I suspected my Master might make an enemy of her just on principle.
However, in contrast to her refined appearance, her personality left something to be desired.
“Neesama has loved eating since she was little; she’s really good for nothing else...”
“T-That’s not true! How can you say that in front of guests?! I-it’s not like this; usually I’m a bit more reserved... I-I just don’t have enough energy right now!”
“Neesama, are you still trying to play it off at this point? It’s no use. Look, Wolka-san and the others all have eyes saying, ‘So this is the kind of person she was...’”
“Wahhh...”
To put it plainly, she was a bit too healthy for her own good, or perhaps she was the type who had left her elder sisterly dignity behind in her mother's womb. In short, they were the kind of sisters where the power dynamic was completely reversed.
Because of everything that had happened, I had expected her to be a dignified older sister who led Ruerie, so this was a surprise. The face of a demon I had seen when she was desperately trying to protect her sister back then, and this pathetic figure sobbing "Wahhh..." in front of me—it felt like it would take a little more time to reconcile the two as the same person.
Liesel and the others looked like they didn't know whether to be happy that she was so well or exasperated that she was far too well.
“Well, it is good to see thou art energetic. Indeed.”
“Y-yes, that’s right. I’m relieved.”
“Enjoying food is a very good thing.”
“T-thank you for your kindness... aha, ahahaha...”
The mountain of food that had been in front of Shiarie was now tucked away in a corner of the room, the table covered by a cloth.
“Sorry for interrupting your meal.”
“N-no, not at all! It’s my fault for eating at this time!”
Indeed, if this was supposed to be lunch, it was a massive false start that would have disqualified her instantly. And then, when lunchtime actually came... would she eat again? Eating what she wanted, when she wanted, and as much as she wanted, while maintaining a figure that was attractive for a woman—to the women of the world who curse the scale as a demon, her metabolism would surely be something they would weep tears of blood over in envy.
In any case, it was true that I was relieved to see her healthy. Considering the agony Shiarie had been forced to endure, the fact that we could face each other and laugh like this was nothing short of a miracle.
“U-um... so, about that!”
Perhaps trying to cut through the atmosphere of a public execution, Shiarie clapped her hands together crisply. However, her vigor only lasted for a moment.
“I’ve heard about all of you from Ruerie...”
Shiarie’s words trailed off. She looked down at her hands, interlacing her fingers, and remained silent for a while. It wasn't that she was hesitating, but rather as if she were waiting for her emotions—shame, awkwardness, and heavy memories—to settle.
Eventually, she bowed her head straight toward us.
“It seems I caused you all a great deal of trouble. I’m sorry.”
“...No.”
How much should we touch upon that subject? Even the Old Sister had said to avoid making her remember ‘that time’ as much as possible. A careless reply could trigger those foul memories.
“...We were not able to do much either,” Liesel answered hesitantly.
Shiarie slowly shook her head.
“I... did such a terrible thing to Wolka-san.”
So she did remember. What happened then.
Shiarie had read the hesitation in my eyes, and I think she tried to act bright so the atmosphere wouldn't get any darker. But all she could manage was a half-baked, forced smile that was clearly just a show of false bravado.
“Um... actually, I don’t really remember much about when I was captured!”
“...,”
“W-when I try to remember—”
But that attempt at cheerfulness only lasted a split second. Cracks appeared in her makeshift smile. Her pupils dilated with terror. In an instant, her face turned pale.
Cradling her own body, she began to tremble.
“A-ahaha... I start s-shaking like this...”
“Enough. Stop.”
“Neesama!”
Ruerie immediately kicked her chair back and threw her arms around Shiarie with all her might.
It wasn't so much that she didn't remember, but rather that her instincts had sealed away the memories to protect her own mind—a form of psychogenic amnesia caused by trauma.
Ah, that’s right. For days in the depths of the ruins where no sunlight reached, she had endured violence after violence, watched her companions be killed, and lived through a hell where she didn't even know if her sister was truly safe. There was no way anyone could have endured it. No one could stay sane. That was why Shiarie had lost her mind back then to the point where she couldn't even tell if the person in front of her was an enemy, having no choice but to move with desperate frenzy.
Her breath, sounding like a sob, repeated over and over as if she were about to crumble. She gripped Ruerie’s hand as if clinging to life, struggling desperately to stop her body from shaking.
After some time, she finally calmed down enough to speak.
“But... there’s one thing I remember clearly. And that’s Wolka-san.”
After Ruerie wiped away her cold sweat, a bit of color returned to her face.
“I remember. That I did something terrible to Wolka-san... and the words Wolka-san said to me then.”
I had Ruerie sit back down. Only my reflection was visible in those violet eyes. I looked straight back at Shiarie.
For a short while, only the two of us exchanged words.
“Are there any scars left?”
“No.”
“I’m truly sorry.”
“You were just trying to protect Ruerie, weren’t you?”
“It must have hurt.”
“Well, I wonder.”
“I remember it so clearly, it’s strange even to me. Your eyes were so honest back then, Wolka-san, and your fingers were surprisingly warm.”
“...You remember a lot.”
“I remember every word you said. ...‘You protected your sister.’”
“Ah—... it’s embarrassing, so please don’t dig it up too much.”
“Eh, why? It’s not embarrassing at all!”
Before I knew it, the trembling had completely vanished from Shiarie’s breath, and she was able to smile naturally again as she spoke. Realizing this herself, she continued.
“If it weren't for you, Wolka-san, I wouldn't be able to make a face like this. If I couldn't remember anything, and didn't want to remember... I think I would have shut myself away.”
At that moment, what crossed my mind were the stories from the Original Work—the wretched plotlines where the lives of nameless mobs were tossed away like scrap paper, situations the Protagonist was dragged into time and time again.
The Total Annihilation End for Silvery Grey was the same. If I hadn't had the strength to stand up with desperate resolve back then. If I hadn't remembered my Knowledge of the Original Work. If even one thing had been slightly different, Liesel and the others would have been brutally murdered exactly as the story dictated, toys of the unreasonable fate known as the Original Work.
That the precious companions I had traveled with until now were, to the God of this world, nothing more than lives worth as much as scrap paper—the thought of it was truly unforgivable. I didn't care what happened to my own life anymore; I wouldn't be satisfied until I had torn out every bit of that absurdity by the roots.
The reason I tried to stop Shiarie alone wasn't so much that I wanted to save her, but simply because I couldn't forgive what was happening. I think what was in my heart wasn't the goodwill of a savior, but an anger that sought to break the unfairness in front of me, even if only a little.
In the end, it was just that, and I hadn't really saved Ruerie and her sister in the truest sense.
So honestly, I felt a bit of guilt being thanked.
But...
“Because Wolka-san said those things to me... um, how should I put it... I feel like I was able to do my best until the end, and I feel so saved by that now.”
But with this, perhaps just a little...
“—Thank you so much for saving us.”
Had I been able to strike back at the shitty God of this world, even if only a scratch?
“I see. ...I’m glad.”
“Yes! Liesel-san, Yulitia-san, and Atri-san, thank you as well! I heard you were all incredibly strong!”
Shiarie turned that same smile toward Liesel and the others.
“Think nothing of it. We only did what was natural!”
“Please rest your body well. Just, um, try not to upset your stomach...”
“Ahaha, it’s fine, I have plenty of confidence in my stomach—ah, wait, are we digging that up again? L-Let’s not! The mood is finally getting good! Right?!”
“I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of.”
“W-well, that’s... a maiden's heart, you see...”
“Neesama... did you even have such a thing as a maiden's heart...?”
“Ruerieee?!”
Good grief, I wondered which side should be the one saying thanks. While it was far from a Happy End, I was truly glad that Shiarie was able to smile again. And to think that a girl who was originally this expressive and bright had been driven so far that she almost lost her sanity... sorry, Dia, but the God of this world really is just a villain.
“A-anyway!”
Shiarie pulled herself together and made a cute little muscle with her right arm.
“I’m still like this for now, but once my body can move properly, please let me repay you in various ways. We’re thinking of trying to live here in the Holy City from now on.”
“Is that so?”
That was news to me. I had assumed they would quit being adventurers and return to their hometown—
“We have to go back to our village once because of Cain and Lloyd... but we’ll come back. Because Ruerie said she’d be lonely and hated the idea of saying goodbye to everyone—”
“Chowaahhhh!”
Ruerie screamed and lunged at Shiarie. Coincidentally, her knee landed in a choice spot, and Shiarie let out a noise like a squashed frog.
“Wha-wha-wha-what kind of stupid things are you saying?! T-that’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s not like that! This is, well... just that I’ve been longing for city life for a long time!”
“R-Ruerie-san! Um, your knee is in a bad spot on your sister—ahhh, your sister is turning purple?! Ruerie-san?!”
Thanks to Yulitia rushing in to stop them, Shiarie managed to avoid reversing her maidenly dignity along with the contents of her stomach. Ruerie, her cheeks slightly flushed, spoke up.
“E-erm... so, we want to look for new work that even we can do.”
“Cough... Yes, that’s how it is...”
“We decided to quit being adventurers... after talking it over with Neesama.”
I didn't say anything, only giving a small nod in response. I shouldn't say that was for the best, but I too wanted the two of them to choose a peaceful life away from adventuring.
“So, if you happen to know of anything nearby, please let us know.”
“The Church does some job placement. Why not ask there?”
“O-of course we intend to ask. But...”
At that, Ruerie’s speech became strangely hesitant. She averted her gaze slightly, pursing her lips.
“The H-Holy City is quite big, isn't it...?”
“? Well, it is the Holy City, after all.”
“So... um.”
Shrinking into herself and fidgeting, Ruerie said in a tiny, almost vanishing voice.
“...I thought it would be nice... if we could work as close to all of you as possible...”
“...”
What is this adorable creature? We all felt quite heartened.
Shiarie chimed in from the side.
“Wow, Neesama is so happy that Ruerie has grown so attached to them—”
“Moooooreeee!”
“Hieee?! W-why are you getting mad?!”
Ruerie lunged at her again, and they started scuffling. Hey, hey, don't make so much noise, you’ll bother the people in the next room. They really are a pair of energetic, lively sisters...
Of course, I’m sure part of it was them consciously acting bright because they were in front of us. As a senior in Holy City living, I definitely had to cooperate so that days like this could become their new normal as soon as possible.
Fortunately, I had an idea regarding work for Ruerie and her sister. We had a reliable veteran of life close by who we could easily consult about such things.
Thus, at the inn Le Bouquet, a certain pair of sisters would eventually be hired as apprentice employees—but that is a story for a little further down the road.
“—I see. So you knew about Wolka-sama.”
“...Yes.”
While Wolka and the others were enjoying a peaceful conversation on the surface, at the Celestial Sanctum located at the top of Alnas Tower, a somber atmosphere—the complete opposite—was about to settle in.
Wolka hates God.
When Dia spoke those heavy words, Anze felt almost no agitation. Instead, she felt only a dull, aching sadness, like blood seeping from a wound. While she understood she shouldn't look away, a part of her heart had stubbornly hoped it was some kind of mistake.
“Since when?”
“The night we were coming back from Luther with Wolka-sama...”
The sight of Wolka’s back as he disappeared from the campsite alone, suffering enough to punch a tree in an outburst of emotion. The words of despair he spat toward the heavens, as if loathing God himself.
—Why is it that in every world, humans are—
—There’s no such thing as a God—
When Anze reported the facts exactly as she had seen them, Dia ruffled her white hair with a groan that sounded like a click of the tongue.
“...He didn't look like that at all, though.”
In the voice of Yulirias, the Saint of Star Eyes, who sat in a wheelchair—Yuli—there was an undeniable trace of disbelief.
“That man... said such a thing? Are you certain?”
“Yeah. He said it clearly right in front of me. There’s no mistake.”
Arcasiel, the Saint of Fortune and Woe, who floated in the air with Getten—Arka—was silent for once, her usually sleepy eyes narrowed sharply. Even for these two, who were many decades Anze’s seniors, Dia’s words weren't something that could be brushed off with a half-hearted reply.
“It was so sudden. He didn't even change his expression; he just said it as naturally as breathing. ...It must have been a slip of the tongue. He clearly looked like he’d messed up afterward.”
“...I don't think those are the kind of words that just slip out by accident.”
“It could also be taken as... that emotion was so natural to him.”
“...Yes. I believe so too.”
It was painful to have to agree with Yuli’s opinion. But she felt they had reached a point that could no longer be explained away as a simple misunderstanding or overthinking.
Wolka undoubtedly hated this world. Just like when they were attacked by the Life Reaper. Just like Ruerie and the others when they were attacked by the Ruffians. He detested this world, filled with the absurdities that threatened human peace—absurdities that could only be called ‘fate.’
Perhaps because he had continued to see such sights over and over again, for a long, long time.
Dia exhaled roughly.
“I tried to play it off as a figure of speech or that he didn't mean the God I was thinking of, but in the end, he didn't deny or retract the part about hating God.”
“Pessimism, or perhaps misanthropy... I might understand that feeling a little.”
Yuli’s face was covered by an eyepatch even here in the Holy Sanctum, so her expression couldn't be read. However, the words she whispered while looking up slightly were tinged with a dark sentiment toward an unerasable past.
“—Because that is how I once was.”
“...”
Silence. Dia spoke again, her voice somewhat subdued.
“It’s not like he’s grown to hate everything... on the contrary, he was incredibly forward-looking. Even with his body like that, he looked like he was having so much fun saying he could still master the sword.”
She looked up at the ceiling.
“—And yet, he only hates God... huh.”
“The fact that he is no different from an entirely healthy human being except for that one point is quite distorted.”
As Yuli pointed out, completely contradictory emotions—hope and despair—coexisted peacefully within Wolka. He cherished his companions from the bottom of his heart, was a pure-blooded warrior dedicated to the sword, and rather than despairing over the loss of an eye and a leg, he continued to look forward to his revival as a swordsman—and yet, he hated God.
It didn't seem like a normal state of mind. Wolka, who would die for the way of the sword without letting his hope die out, and Wolka, who was disappointed in this world and harbored a hatred for God—were these truly the faces of the same human being?
“I don't think the loss of an eye and a leg are the only reasons... Anze, do you know anything?”
To Yuli’s quiet question, Anze could only shake her head in response.
“I do not know either. What happened to Wolka-sama... no one in his party knows.”
But there was no doubt that the despair Wolka harbored was rooted in a past that no one knew. As far as Anze knew, the party Silvery Grey was formed about six years ago. And Anze had first met Wolka about eight years ago. Those two blank years that no one knew about—no, perhaps even when Anze met him, he was already...
“I believe... he must have gone through painful experiences that he cannot speak of to anyone.”
Strong... I want to become strong—when Anze first met Wolka, that was the reason he gave for throwing himself into such grueling training.
If so, why did he want to become strong? It was clearly unusual for a child who wasn't even ten years old at the time to possess such a fierce resolve.
Was it really just ‘to master the Quick-draw Technique’?
Was it not that he wanted to become strong, but that he had to?
Or perhaps, the fact that he lost his parents early was also—
“...The fortunate thing is that Wolka-sama doesn't seem to hate even us Saints.”
A Saint of the Chryscles Holy Church was a representative of God who could be called a demigod. Since the first Saint, they had remained symbols of the Holy City for generations, and many people in this country regarded them as guardian deities.
Conversely, Wolka seemed to think of the Saints as nothing more than ‘people of very high status.’ Dia even said that to him, a Saint might just be another human being, another woman.
“How should I put it... I felt like he truly saw me as a person.”
Yuli agreed, sounding slightly pleased.
“Ah, I felt that as well. We are often not seen as fellow humans, after all.”
“Well... that’s true.”
Anze felt as if a very faint smile had appeared on Arka’s lips as well.
“It might have been a long time since I spoke so normally with someone I met for the first time...”
If Wolka identified the Saints with God and loathed them, there was no way the commendation ceremony would have ended peacefully. That alone was a true relief for Anze.
“He seems to have quite the history, but in the end, what we do won't change, right?”
“Yeah. I can't just leave him alone either.”
She wouldn't try to pry into Wolka’s past, tramping over his feelings in his refusal to speak to anyone. No matter what path he had walked, Anze’s wish would not change one bit. There was no way it could change.
She wanted him to be rewarded as much as he had suffered. She wanted him to be happy as much as he wished for the happiness of others. She wanted to become someone he needed, and this time, stay by his side forever and ever.
“Ah—Anze, don't think too hard about it.”
Apparently, it had shown on her face, as Dia patted her shoulder twice in concern.
“It’s weird for me to say this since today was the first time I’ve spoken to him properly, but Wolka-sama isn't the type to change how he sees someone just because of a title. So, even if he finds out you’re a Saint someday, it’ll be fine. Nothing will change.”
“...Yes.”
Anze knew. That the day would surely come when Wolka would realize Anze’s true identity.
At first, it was just her selfishness, wanting to ‘just be Anze’ in front of Wolka. She had confessed everything to Liesel, Yulitia, and Atri shortly after meeting them, asking them to let her remain a normal Sister in front of Wolka. She had also asked those involved with the Church to cooperate in keeping the secret, and if necessary, she even used the power of a magic tool that would prevent people from being conscious of her status as a Saint.
But that was a completely insufficient way to hide her identity from Wolka.
As long as Wolka lived in the Holy City, there were countless other possibilities for him to notice Anze’s true identity. If she truly intended to continue the deception for years or decades, she would have had to use all her authority as a Saint to thoroughly eliminate every possible factor.
But in the end, Anze couldn't make that choice. There were several reasons why she couldn't bring herself to do it—but the biggest was that she had a ‘premonition.’
That the day would surely come when she would have to stand before Wolka as a Saint.
That God would not allow her naive selfishness of wanting to remain just Anze to continue forever. That was why she thought she would have to wake up from this self-indulgent fantasy when that day finally came.
And that premonition had suddenly changed shape in the last few days.
As if it were a divine revelation, it appeared before Anze in the form of a vivid dream—a vision of herself shedding tears as she healed Wolka’s wounded, blood-stained body.
—Finally, finally, I can protect you.
The moment she smiled and called forth the power of the Heavenly Sword for his sake. It was as if ‘that moment’ were already approaching in the near future.
Both of her palms pressed together, Anze prayed.
The first time, she could have reached out, but she had abandoned him.
The second time, she couldn't even be by his side when he was suffering.
That was why there could absolutely not be a third time.
(This time, for certain—)
For that sake, what hesitation could she have, even if she could no longer remain ‘Anze’?
I will protect my precious person this time—surely, that was the reason Anze had become the Saint of the Heavenly Sword.