〈 Episode 6 〉 Six Days Until Arrival
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Lucia.
A Saint of commoner origin.
Jeonghyeon had only picked up bits and pieces while being dragged around, so he didn't know the exact details, but…
'One thing's for sure—I heard she was born with immense divine power, enough to be called the next-generation Pope.'
Recalling those words, he looked at Lucia.
The healing magic she had cast on him was certainly several times more potent than what the Archbishop had provided, and she had performed it many times over as well.
'A mere priestess's healing power and total divine energy surpasses that of an Archbishop.'
When that thought crossed his mind, he couldn't help but smile.
Because everything pointed to Lucia being the Saint.
'However, there are three strange things.'
The fact that Lucia the Saint was walking around alone without any 'escorts.'
The fact that the Saint was attending the Academy to receive an education.
And the fact that despite radiating such divine power, no one suspected her identity.
His curiosity welled up, but he decided to put those questions aside for now.
'Now isn't the time.'
He couldn't afford to ruin everything by trying to satisfy needless curiosity, so he decided to bide his time, and Jeonghyeon focused on his food once more.
* * *
The next day, Jeonghyeon tried to train in the same manner as the day before, but the warning message that appeared before his eyes foiled those plans.
[If you do not attend class, the probability of quest failure will increase significantly.]
Quest failure meant death.
He had no choice but to postpone his training until classes were over.
Thus, he changed into a new uniform… a new uniform?
Seeing the closet completely empty, he could only clamp his mouth shut.
He was an Academy student, after all; he had assumed there would be at least two or three sets of uniforms, but there were none.
He searched the room just in case, but when nothing turned up, he could only let out a low groan.
'Guess I'll have to go like this.'
His ragged, blood-soaked uniform would attract attention, but with no other option, he opened the door to head to class in that state.
There, he found a neatly folded uniform and a note.
[No matter how I think about it, I felt bad brushing it off with just a meal, so I'm sending this too.
P.S. — Please train normally from now on. Before I really kill you.
—Lucia]
Chuckling at the note, he changed into the uniform Lucia had provided and headed to the Academy.
[Swordsmanship Department — Class A. Please attend.]
He couldn't tell if this was fortunate or not.
Upon entering the Academy, a message appeared telling him where to go.
Seeing this, he smiled bitterly and thought, 'So this is one of those formats where all content is concentrated at the Academy.'
That explained why he'd hardly seen any system messages while being dragged around.
Thinking that things had been wrong from the very beginning, he entered the classroom.
Buzzing voices reached his ears.
"Isn't that the guy who touched Ellie?"
"Probably? Wow, but why did it have to be Ellie of all people?"
"Jel is dead set on killing him."
Reactions to yesterday's incident.
Hearing such reactions, he sat in the seat indicated by the system, and the surrounding gazes zeroed in on him again.
'How familiar.'
Before his suicide, this had been something he considered entirely natural.
Having been subjected to gazes filled with all manner of contempt, disillusionment, and hatred, this much was nothing.
So he ignored them and was preparing for class when someone kicked his desk and shouted.
"You son of a bitch!"
Fortunately, he managed to pull back and avoid injury, but the fact that he'd been attacked first irritated him. He looked up to see a male student so muscular he looked as though he'd eaten nothing but chicken breasts instead of rice glaring at him, grinding his teeth.
He shouted at Jeonghyeon, furious about something.
"You cowardly bastard, daring to ambush me?"
Was his head stuffed with nothing but muscles?
He was the one who attacked first, so why the hell was he screaming about an ambush?
'Well, that's not important.'
What mattered was that a fight had started.
As was his way, he didn't avoid a fight that came to him.
Deciding to respond to the provocation in full measure, he grabbed his chair.
"……"
When Jeonghyeon suddenly lifted the chair, a flustered expression crossed the other's face.
It seemed he hadn't expected anyone to use a chair as a weapon.
Contrary to his bulky frame, he fidgeted helplessly, unable to act, but…
"A chair? You think you're something just because you're holding a chair, you fucking bastard?"
Perhaps unable to swallow his pride, his mouth ran non-stop, wagging an utterly vulgar tongue.
At that sight, Jeonghyeon smiled briefly and replied.
"It makes me something, all right. A livestock butcher that slaughters pigs."
Then he hurled the chair straight at him and immediately rushed forward.
The stats he had raised significantly yesterday allowed him to move without hindrance.
Thanks to that, he rapidly closed the distance and smoothly drove a powerful punch into the other's stomach.
*Whack!*
A sound like something bursting.
It seemed divine power had manifested, concentrating greater force into his hand.
Along with that sound, before his eyes…
[Your stats have increased.]
A message bearing good news appeared.
'I was frustrated that I couldn't train, but now I'm finally feeling a bit better.'
Feeling his anxiety subside slightly, Jeonghyeon looked down at his arm.
Perhaps because he had struck relatively soft human flesh rather than wood, there were no visible injuries on his arm.
Seeing this, he gained a realization and curled up the corner of his mouth.
'This is nice.'
Getting hurt less was a given, and his stats rose to boot.
After confirming this, Jeonghyeon checked the time.
[8:40 AM]
Twenty minutes until class started.
Before then, he had to beat that guy up and raise his stats as much as possible.
Thinking that coming to the Academy wasn't such a bad thing, he charged at the muscle-bound lump once more.
* * * * *
Bishop Leah silently surveyed the battlefield where the fighting had ended.
White ash, nothing remaining after burning brilliantly.
Nothing could express this battlefield better.
In that stark scene of futility, Leah silently gazed at the corpses strewn about.
'Do you still not understand what a great blessing it is for trash like you to obtain proper value through self-destruction?'
Her own voice, which had shifted all the responsibilities she should bear onto him, bloomed anew each time she saw the dead.
'Trash suits trash. So why don't you sleep in the nearby garbage dump?'
They were unmistakably her own words.
Yet every time they resurfaced, indescribable disgust welled up within her.
Why? Why had she said such things?
Leah clutched at her gradually distorting mind, then drew a breath and attempted denial.
'If only the Hero had been able to grow properly, if only he could have controlled his divine power… if only he had not provoked the kingdom as he did…!'
She wouldn't have denied his value so thoroughly, wouldn't have tried to trample him.
Why did he have to do such a thing!
Realizing that she was unconsciously shifting responsibility onto the Hero once again, she covered her own mouth—which had uttered not a word—with both hands.
These disgustingly baseless thoughts were slipping out without her knowledge.
'This isn't me. Yes, this isn't my true feeling… they're just words that come out because of stress.'
While she was comforting herself by repeating this shifting of blame once more, a familiar voice called out from nearby.
"Leah? Can you provide some healing?"
The Second Princess, her face etched with exhaustion, approached Leah while shaking blood from her sword.
Then, seeing the soldiers growing cold, she squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth.
"…Please make it quick, if possible."
"Yes. I shall."
Seeing the Second Princess reveal her side, Leah bit her lip.
If only the Second Princess had mediated properly, she wouldn't have made the wrong choice.
At that thought, killing intent flared, but she suppressed it forcibly and spoke.
"Your condition is not good. Even if I use healing magic, it will be several days before you can walk properly again."
"Several days?"
"Yes. So please rest."
"…Where is the Saint? If it were the Saint, she could heal this instantly."
The moment the Second Princess mentioned the Saint, Leah's expression twisted.
The Second Princess clearly knew of Leah's hatred for the Saint; she had obviously brought it up to make a comparison.
"Find her yourself. That is not my concern."
At those words, the Second Princess smiled bitterly.
"Indeed, that is not your concern. Yet managing the Hero was not your concern either, so why did you torment him so?"
At that single sentence, Leah froze and looked at the Second Princess.
What did this mad woman just say?
"I still remember. That every night, under the pretext of penance, you tortured him. If only you hadn't done such things…!"
"You did it too, didn't you?"
"What?"
"The penance. Why pretend otherwise?"
At those words, the Second Princess fell silent.
Seeing that reaction, Leah began to unravel everything she had kept pent up.
"And wasn't it the Princess who created that situation in the first place, speaking of necessary sacrifice?"
"…That…!"
"No matter how much the Princess shifts the blame onto me, a dead Hero does not return."
Leah thought that perhaps those last words were meant for herself, and squeezed her eyes shut.
At that moment, Daisy approached them, her face deathly pale.
"Still have the strength to fight… I see? If you had that kind of energy, why not catch one more demon?"
At Daisy's words, all the emotions that had flared within Leah subsided.
Like the battlefield she had witnessed earlier.
'Disgusting. Everything.'
The Second Princess, Daisy, the Saint… and everything surrounding her was disgusting and abhorrent.
Gagging on the terrible disgust rising through her body, she soon saw her reflection in the sewage pooled on the ground, and realized that the truly revolting one was herself.
The puddle was small, making her look as though her neck had been severed.
That sight reminded her of the collar she had placed on the Hero, and in that instant, she felt everything distort.
Unable to endure the stress, she plunged her face into the sewage and regretted, but…
Since she could not even apologize to the dead, all of it was meaningless.
As long as he did not return alive, it meant nothing.
Nothing at all.
Just as Leah's mind was gradually sinking into a swamp, Daisy's voice roused her.
"Shouldn't we disperse soon? The work here is done, after all."
At those words, Leah looked ahead.
As Daisy said, there was nothing more to be done here.
'…Then now. I suppose I must go to the Academy as the Cardinal said.'
To clean up after that damned Saint… no, to drag her down into the abyss alongside herself.
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