Chapter 16: Friendly Banter.

(Sei’s POV)

After walking a short distance from the camp, I found a suitable place to prepare lunch where no one would overhear our conversation.

I stopped and turned to Elaister. “So, about Altair-”

“I told you I am fixing myself first before that,” Elaister said, waving her right hand dismissively. “Just give me a bit, would you?”

“Fixing… I assume you mean some kind of surgical operation on yourself. But with an injury like that, the way your body seemed to collapse inward, how do you even repair it without using a spell?” I remembered clearly how my [Heal] had cracked against her the day before. “Yesterday afternoon you were in far worse condition, and by night you had already recovered.”

“Oho? Impressed? Curious? Want to know my secret?” she asked, one hand covering the mouthpiece of her mask as she half teased and half laughed.

“Indeed,” I replied flatly.

The spell [Healing], and its variants, was tightly regulated by the Church. Officially, this was to ensure that only certified priests and priestesses could use it, spreading them across the continent as the primary source of healthcare. In most places, their services were free. This extended beyond the human kingdoms to Elfkin, Dwarfkin, and Beastkin society as well, though never to Demonkin. In many ways, the Church operated beyond the authority of any single kingdom.

There was another reason for this regulation. On a large scale, it prevented wars from escalating. If a kingdom chose to wage war against another race or nation, the Church would withdraw its support and refuse to heal the wounded. Only the Holy Crusade against demons was exempt from this rule. On a smaller scale, the lack of access to healing magic kept criminals from surviving long enough to continue their crimes.

There had been attempts to develop medical practices outside of magic. Sometimes this was because the Church had condemned a group for suspected ties with demons. Sometimes a region was too remote to maintain a stable Church presence. Other times, injuries and illnesses were too severe for common priests, requiring specialists from the cathedral. From these circumstances, surgical operations were born.

They were never popular. They lacked funding, carried significant risks, required long recovery periods, and were deeply inconvenient compared to simplicity of casting [Healing].

That was why the Elven expansion fifty years ago had seemed so strange. The Church had withheld its support from them, which might not have mattered at first, but over decades there should have been plagues, injuries, and sickness that slowly weakened them. Yet their forces remained strong.

Most people assumed that elves must possess some ancient medical knowledge passed down through long lifespans, and the woman standing before me was likely the proof of that assumption.

“Well, I suppose I could teach you,” Elaister said casually.

“What?” My mind blanked for a moment. That answer had come far too easily.

“It would be inconvenient for me if your god suddenly abandoned you and you became useless, would it not?” she added.

Ah. There was the remark. I had spoken too soon.

Still, she was not wrong. Why would God weaken my blessing because of what I did to Altair last night? I had only expressed my love. If loving Altair was forbidden, then there was no meaning in me being the Saint.

“Always practical,” I said calmly. “I am sure this is simply for your own convenience, is it not, Elaister?”

“You are not wrong,” she replied as she began to walk past me. “Well then, I will see you in a…”

She stopped mid step and slowly looked at me, then down to my arm, then me up to bottom, then glanced around the clearing.

“Hey, before I left you all alone, I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“How exactly are you planning to cook lunch?”

…

...

...

Oh right. We were outside.

…

Oh right. We had only brought rations for this mission.

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Oh right. There was no cookware.

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…

Oh right. Elaister's so right. So, I looked at her.

“Yeah, no,” she said immediately. “Do not look at me with those eyes. Don’t tell me… Are you… perhaps, an airhead?”

A vague memory surfaced of how children back home would react when caught in a similar situation.

“Te-He?” I tilted my head awkwardly.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it! You’re not even endearin- Ghuek.”

Blood seeped into the ground.

“…”

“…”

…

“I might have overdone it…”

Elaister had been gone for several minutes now, off somewhere in the forest to tend to herself in whatever unsettling way she called fixing. In front of me stood a sturdy table completely covered with freshly prepared dishes, steam still rising gently into the air. The aroma alone was rich enough to make one forget the oppressive presence of the dungeon nearby.

Under normal circumstances, such a scene would have been impossible. This was only achievable because Elaister was, quite literally, a walking warehouse, and because of the strange artifacts she carried with her.

Behind me sat two large devices rested beside a second table piled high with dry ingredients, utensils, and cookware she had pulled from Pandora.

The first device was a metal box with four black circular rings embedded into its surface. Beneath each ring was a knob, carefully calibrated, allowing controlled flames to bloom and recede at will. A Stove. I had seen something similar during my time in the capital, though such artifacts were strictly reserved for important locations like the royal castle or the cathedral kitchens. 

When Elaister had tried to boast about it earlier, coughing blood between sentences, I had casually remarked that the design was not entirely new, she had visibly sulked immediately.

The second device was far more interesting. I had encountered freezers before, again in the capital, but this one was unmistakably more refined and diffrent. The upper compartment froze items solid, while the lower rack maintained a controlled chill that preserved ingredients without turning them into blocks of ice. It allowed food to be stored long term while remaining immediately usable.

With my cooking skills, the convenience these devices provided and other reasons, I had lost track of time entirely. I cooked far more than was appropriate for an expedition like this, one where we were supposed to keep our bodies light and ready for combat. Roasted meats, simmered vegetables, freshly baked flatbread, and soups thick with herbs filled the table, far exceeding what our small group could reasonably consume.

I surveyed the spread again and let out a quiet sigh.

Well, I could always ask Elaister to store the excess back into Pandora later, along with the tables and devices she had deployed. Waste was unnecessary when space itself bent for her convenience.

The bushes rustled nearby, branches brushing aside as someone emerged from the forest.

“Oooh,” a familiar voice chimed teasingly, “for whose wedding party are these dishes for?”

Elaister stepped into the clearing, already reaching toward the table, her hand drifting toward a perfectly roasted thigh as if it belonged there by right.

“For mine and Altair’s, of course,” I replied brightly.

She froze mid step.

For a full second, she did not move. Then she burst into laughter.

“That’s a good one,” Elaister said, grabbing a piece of chicken and leaning casually against the edge of the table. “Alright then, Saint. What was it you wanted to say to me about your boy?”

“Right,” I said, folding my hands neatly. “I am satisfied with your service. I could immediately see his growth from just a single outing with you. However, could you at least warn me next time?”

Elaister hummed thoughtfully as she chewed. “Anything else for the TOS of renting out your donkey?”

“Yes.” I pointed at her without hesitation. “You left his injuries untreated and let me be the one to heal him. I am the healer. I want to be the one he feels grateful toward, not you.”

That made her pause again, though only briefly. She resumed chewing as if nothing had happened, her tone casual when she finally spoke.

“Hm. Sure. But if his injuries are too severe, I am allowed to heal him enough to keep him from bleeding out while I bring him back to you. Gotta make compromises.”

“I see,” I replied calmly. “You do use him rather roughly.”

“It’s not like I’m acting outside your line,” Elaister said. “From where I’m standing, you prefer him to suffer first so you can swoop in as his so-oh-bright-merciful salvation.”

“Correct,” I said without hesitation. “I am open to your compromise.”

“...”

Elaister went eerily silent.

Her visor tilted slightly, the dark surface boring into my face with an intensity that made the hairs on my neck prickle. For a moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath with her.

“Is there something on my face?” I asked gently.

Then she burst out laughing.

“But seriously, ghahahaha, isn’t this way too much food for a single lunch?” Elaister pushed herself up from the table and leaned forward, bracing her hands against the wood as she laughed loudly. It was not her usual theatrical laughter. It was louder, sharper, and too forced, as if she were trying to drown something out.

“Really, I did make too much,” I said, letting out a small laugh of my own. “Ehe.”

Our laughter overlapped, filling the clearing with a sound that felt strangely hollow.

…

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…

…

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…

“Seriously,” Elaister cut in at last, her voice flat as a blade. “Aren’t you one pitiful piece of work?”

I closed my mouth.

She straightened, turning fully toward me now. Whatever humor had been there before vanished completely. “As amusing as I find the contradiction that is your existence,” she continued, “it is honestly a disgrace to the title of Saint. I guess the god of this world truly is as twisted as the one they chose.”

Her words came casually cruel.

“Unlike them,” she went on, “your existence is nothing more than a parasite clinging to that boy’s life. Say you get together. Then what? Say you force your obsession onto him and he is forced to return it. Then what? Do you even see him as an individual?”

She gestured vaguely in my direction. “Every time we talk, it’s him, him, and him. Altair this, Altair that. What is the point of your existence?”

Her visor tilted again, mockingly thoughtful. “Someone gave her the Bechdel test. I’m pretty sure she scored one out of ten at best. Tell me, Saint, what’s the difference between you to him, and those three girls orbiting Heroboy?”

“Why do you care?” I asked softly. “Why do you talk as if you know the Saints who came before me? Are you trying to get in between me and Altair? ”

“…I’m a fan of romcom,” Elaister replied after missing a beat.

“What even is… romcom?” I asked.

"..."

"..."

She snapped her fingers sharply. “Quick. Name five men who aren’t Altair. Go.”

“Uh…” My mind blanked completely. “Altair. Oh.”

The silence returned again, this time broken only by the distant sound of leaves rustling in the wind.

Elaister stared at me.

Then she let out a long, slow sigh, rubbing her mask with two fingers as if she had developed a headache. “Wow. You didn’t even hesitate.”

I clasped my hands together, smiling faintly. “Is that bad?”

“Yes,” she said immediately. “That is catastrophically bad.”

She leaned back against the table and folded her arms. “You realize you don’t love him, right? You worship him. You define yourself through him. If he vanished tomorrow, you would erase yourself just so you could meet him sooner.”

I tilted my head slightly. “Isn’t that beautiful?”

“There is a far more beautiful future,” Elaister said quietly, “if you stop walking down that path.”

“Aww,” I replied sweetly. “You really do play cupid for me. I appreciate that.”

Elaister clicked her tongue. “Let’s just go back. The sun’s already at its peak.” She glanced at the table of food. “I’ll store the excess for later.”

Zap

In a single instant, the dishes vanished. The tables, the devices, every trace of the improvised kitchen disappeared as though it had never existed. The clearing returned to its earlier, barren state, save for the faint scent of food lingering in the air.

Having Elaister around really was convenient, I thought. In more ways than one.

“I could say the same for you, Elaister.”

She did not respond immediately.

“Oh come on,” she said at last, her tone light but brittle. “You don’t actually have anything to say.”

“You are pitiful too, Elaister san,” I replied as I walked closer, reaching out from behind her. My fingers brushed her shoulder gently, almost tenderly. “I saw it. Back when you were fixing yourself.”

She stiffened.

“At first, I couldn’t hear you, nor could I sense you in that forest,” I continued calmly. “But I am certain that at some point, your mask…” I brushed the side of it with my fingertips,“…slipped. Or perhaps you needed to remove it to repair yourself. Either way.”

Her breath hitched.

“That was the other reason I cooked too much,” I said softly. “Elaister, you are aware of the Church spell [Reconciliation], aren’t you?”

Her right hand shot up instantly, pressing against her mask as though she could push it into her own face and hide behind it entirely. The purple glow of her visor flickered violently, trembling like a flame about to go out.

“Yes,” I continued gently, “of course you are. You are a genius, after all.”

“Don’t...” she said quietly.

“It is usually activated through a mutual pact, where both parties agree,” I went on. “But it can also be forcefully triggered, one sidedly, if a certain emotion surpasses a specific threshold.” I smiled faintly. “And yours is quite intense. Overwhelming, even.”

“Just stop...” she said, her voice strained.

“I was distracted by it,” I admitted. “By your emotion. That is why I overdid it and wasted food. I knew you were laughing behind the cover of the trees. I could sense it clearly. And yet, you were in pain. You cried.”

Her shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly.

“Even though you could shut those sensations off,” I said. “Even though you have implemented that capability into your own flesh, you refused to do so. Why?”

She did not answer.

“I know why,” I continued. “Would you like me to spell it out for you?”

“Sei,” she said, my name sounding almost like a warning.

“That emotion is █████,” I said softly, deliberately. “And your goal is ██████████. How human. How pitiful. How amusing.”

I stepped closer.

“I am a parasite clinging to Altair, you said,” I went on. “At least he is real. At least he is a person. But what about you, El███-san?” My smile sharpened. “Are you a parasite to yourself? To your emotions? To your past?”

There was a long pause.

“You laughed at me, didn’t you,” Elaister said slowly as she turned her head. Her visor faced me directly now. The purple glow within it seemed to darken, crawling toward crimson. Perhaps it was the lighting. Perhaps it was the shadow. Or perhaps it was something far more dangerous bleeding through.

“It is only fair,” I replied.

“…Right,” she said. “Gha… ghaha… haha… of course.”

Something was wrong.

I instinctively took a few steps back. She would not hurt me. She could not. I might have pushed her buttons, but-

“Hey, Saint,” Elaister said, her voice suddenly calm, unnervingly so. “Let me stress test that [Healing] spell of yours. Let me see just how different, advanced, and mastered the healing of a soon to be Saint is compared to an ordinary priest’s.”

The world shattered into motion.

The last thing I saw was a flat silver surface unfolding in front of me, swallowing my vision whole. A violent purple flash drowned out every other color, silver and violet consuming everything as the clearing vanished from sight.

(Third Person POV)

Kestrel hid among the shadows of the forest canopy, balanced silently atop a thick branch. Her eyes widened as she watched a sight that belonged only in dungeon depths or in the old records of the Holy Crusade.

The ground trembled. Dust rose in choking waves. Flesh moved like a living tide.

She had been searching for undetected goblin nests, but what she found instead was something far worse. Below her, the forest floor churned with movement. A marching river of malice pushed through the trees, trampling everything in its path. Goblins poured forward in numbers far beyond what should have been possible for a scattered nest.

A Monster Stampede.

Something that did not occur naturally outside of dungeons, and even inside them, it usually required the presence of a demon general to provoke such a phenomenon.

Did Elaister killing their leader cause this?

At this rate, the swarm would reach Thidono in less than three hours. Worse, the path of destruction split in two directions. One branch veered toward the Ulla Dungeon. The other moved north toward the nearest human border.

‘I must inform Hiroto sama immediately. Only he can deal with something of this scale.’

“Oooh. A Black Hand agent. Kestrel, wasn’t it?”

A familiar female voice came from behind her.

But it was wrong. It lacked the usual flair. The tone was flatter, more even, as if someone were attempting to imitate the original voice and failing to capture its spirit.

Kestrel spun instantly and slashed backward with her poisoned knife. The figure behind her parried the blade with her left arm and leapt back. Sparks flew as metal scraped against metal.

Kestrel landed lightly on the branch and faced her opponent.

A girl stood before her.

From the neck down, she was wrapped in black robes. An eclipse shaped crest was embroidered over her chest. The sleeve she had used to block the knife was torn open, revealing pale grey skin beneath. The flesh was completely unharmed.

The same grey tone colored her neck, and likely her face as well, though it was hidden behind a crow like mask.

Was that mask metal?

Or bone?

‘How did she get behind me?’

Kestrel had sensed nothing. No footsteps, no shifting leaves, no change in airflow. It was as if the girl had appeared from thin air.

“Wh.o a.re y.ou?” Kestrel asked, her voice controlled but tense. “A.re y.ou t.he one wh.o cau.sed t.his? W.hat is y.ou.r pl.an?”

As she spoke, her lips subtly formed the syllables of a whispered incantation in between her questions.

“Well, I am glad you aske-”

Kestrel activated [Acceleration].

Her body blurred forward, leaving the girl behind in an instant. Information was secondary. Escape and warning Hiroto were the priority.

“Ghk-?!”

A foot struck her jaw from above, or rather she crashed into it.

The impact sent her crashing off the branch and down into the forest floor. She rolled hard across the dirt, barely managing to absorb the fall. Fortunately, she had moved far enough away from the goblin horde that they had not noticed.

She looked up.

The girl stood above her again.

“How impolite of you,” the girl sighed. “I was trying to introduce myself.”

Now that she was closer, Kestrel noticed something unsettling. Dark, damp lines streaked across the girl’s robes. They were soaked with blood.

But Kestrel had not drawn blood.

It was almost as if the girl had torn her own body apart to cover that distance instantly.

“Let me try again,” the girl said calmly. “If you run this time, I will kill you.”

She tilted her head slightly behind the crow mask.

“I'm Blacksuns One, Lut.”

つづく