Dispatching Claire to Hibernia was a decision that meant considerable losses even for the Empire.
As the empire with the most Gates, there were many regions to protect and many troops required.
Claire’s abilities were wide-ranging, her power great, and her experience with the Abyss extensive; there was exceedingly little she could not do.
The fact that they sent her regardless meant that Hibernia was considered that important.
If the Holy Kingdom of Hibernia fell, the Order of Riphue would collapse.
If the Order of Riphue collapsed, it meant they would lose any means to oppose the Abyss.
Claire had been sent to save as many priests as possible and to protect the Sanctuary and the Saintess—the spiritual refuge and focal point for all believers.
That was the role she had undertaken, the mission given to her.
But this was merely a nominal mission, a surface-level duty dressed up to look presentable.
There was another, true mission given in secret.
Claire had hoped that order would never be handed down.
*Beep—*
A familiar vibration came from her wrist.
‘...It has finally come.’
She rolled up her sleeve, bent her arm, and held it slightly forward.
Revealed there was a blue wrist guard.
A long ciphertext appeared over it.
An artifact of command issued solely to the single knight entrusted with the most crucial mission at present.
Its first sentence foretold despair.
\- Begin the true mission.
She read the orders with no change in expression.
\- The power of the 70th floor is beyond imagination.
The Empire would have selected personnel separately to enter the 70th floor of the demonic realm.
Not to conquer it, but to obtain even the bare minimum of information.
Or perhaps the possessed ones on their side had used their abilities to relay information.
Regardless, the conclusion drawn from that information was this:
\- Hibernia is beyond salvation.
The fall of Hibernia.
\- Take the Saintess and escape that place immediately.
She turned and moved at once.
To begin the true mission as written in the orders.
* * *
The place Claire arrived at was one of the most heavily guarded locations in all of Hibernia.
It was the room where the Saintess offered her prayers to the Goddess Riphue.
Had it not been for the current situation, had Claire and Saintess Irina not forged a bond during several raids together, and had there not been the common ground of Hio Pavlenko between them, it was a space she could never have entered.
Upon entering, Irina in pure white robes came into view.
A statue of the goddess reaching to the peak of the towering ceiling.
Beneath it, kneeling with hands clasped in prayer, was the Saintess, Irina.
In such a vast space, only Irina, Claire, and the statue existed.
There was no one else.
Irina must have sensed Claire’s presence, yet she prayed on without any movement.
Only after some time passed did Irina finish her prayers and rise.
“You look even thinner than when I last saw you. Have you still been unable to eat lately?”
Unlike Claire, who looked haggard and emaciated at a glance, Irina did not seem much changed.
It was surely thanks to the divine power overflowing within her, glowing faintly like a halo.
“....”
Claire could not rashly open her mouth.
Against Irina’s cheerful voice, how dark and heavy would her own words sound?
How was she to say that Hibernia would soon fall and that she had come to take only her?
While she worried over this, Irina’s bright voice continued.
“It might be nice to stay with me if things are very hard. The food here has no meat, and honestly, it’s not very delicious either.”
“...That’s rather unfortunate.”
“Right? Hehehe.”
Even in the expeditionary force, Irina had often spoken to Claire like this.
Especially after Hio had disappeared, she would stand at Claire’s side with an even brighter tone.
That made it all the harder to open her mouth.
“Shall we go to my room first? Let’s talk over some warm tea.”
“....”
“I’ll ask them to prepare some tea that’s incredibly good for your health but tastes incredibly bad.”
“....”
“Hmm... Or would you like to look around here a bit more? There’s not much to see, but everyone is curious about it.”
“....”
“Ah, am I being too quiet? Hehe...”
“....”
Irina’s age was, at most, seventeen.
An age more befitting the word “girl” than “Saintess.”
The heavy burden of Saintess had been suddenly thrust upon an innocent girl who knew nothing.
\- The Saintess is the continent's most important figure. We will send support immediately; if necessary, take her by force and bring her at all costs.
How could she say such things to this girl?
\- Remember. If you do not bring the Saintess, there is no future.
But she had to.
Because the Empire had foreseen Hibernia’s destruction.
If so, there was no way Claire could stop it alone.
Nor did the Empire have the capacity to help Hibernia.
Then the Saintess left behind here would die with Hibernia, and what would become of the continent after?
As the orders stated, a continent without the Saintess had no future other than to be eroded by the Abyss and destroyed.
Thus, she had to speak, no matter how difficult.
If words would not suffice, she had to take her by force.
She barely parted her parched lips.
“Irina...”
Irina cut off Claire’s words.
“Did you know?”
She looked around, approached gently, and lowered her voice.
“Truth is, there is no God.”
The words were nothing short of shocking, utterly absurd.
From the mouth of a Saintess came words denying God.
Claire forgot what she was about to say and even showed a rare surprised expression, quickly looking around, but Irina simply laughed and spun in place.
“The Goddess is not there. I don’t know why... but I can feel it. The hand that cared for me, the gaze that watched over me, no longer reaches me anymore.”
Irina walked over lightly and stood beneath the statue, carefully placing her hand upon it.
“Is Hibernia meeting its end now? Is that why you came to take me?”
Before Claire could respond, Irina shook her head.
“I’m sorry, but I cannot go.”
It was the expected reaction.
She was the Saintess.
Those who called themselves servants of Riphue valued this Sanctuary above all else.
She had expected this—Irina would not leave, would not abandon Hibernia.
Thus, Claire had slowly tried to draw out the words she had prepared.
“I’m going to die soon anyway.”
But Irina’s following words once again left her speechless.
“I hold divine power far too great for a human body to endure. Before, the Goddess looked after me, so I was fine, but as I said, She is gone now.”
Just then, the tip of Irina’s finger crumbled away as it brushed the statue, only to be immediately restored by the immense divine power surging forth.
Even after watching that silently, Irina continued in a cheerful tone as if nothing had happened.
“So it won’t be of much use even if I go. I might just drop dead before even reaching the Empire, you know? Hehe...”
She turned back with a smile.
At those words, Claire’s breath caught.
Her chest felt suffocatingly tight.
“Wouldn’t it be better to take some younger, more promising priests instead? Since the Goddess has disappeared, no one will awaken divine power anymore, so please save as many young and talented priests as you can.”
She was only seventeen.
At that age, she spoke of her own death.
She must witness her body crumbling and restoring dozens of times a day.
Surely, it must be terrifying.
“Ah, and please keep the fact that there is no God a secret. Hope will be most desperately needed after I die.”
Claire could say nothing, do nothing.
What could she do?
What was she supposed to do?
“The 70th floor that will soon collapse must be a tremendous calamity. Then I will stay here and hold out as long as I can.”
She said it was better that way.
If she died with Hibernia, at least the truth that the Goddess no longer existed would remain a secret forever.
If she suddenly dropped dead, the high priests would notice the absence of the divine.
What could one do before a smiling seventeen-year-old girl who said such things?
What words could one possibly utter?
So she simply turned and left.
Her head was spinning.
Though she had eaten nothing, her stomach churned.
“Ah, Lady Claire.”
“Sister Claire.”
“We are always grateful.”
The gazes of everyone she met.
The heads bowed with sincerity.
The respect conveyed was so unbearably heavy that she could not meet their eyes.
What had she done to deserve such gratitude?
She had merely saved a few villages and helped a few cities along the way to the royal capital.
The cities she couldn’t help and the villages she couldn’t save were many times greater.
Upon reaching the capital, she had gone out and culled the monsters of the yet-unsettled 68th and 69th floors.
Even that had been imperfect; surely the beasts were still rampaging in several places.
“You are our hero.”
Yet these people spoke the word “hero” without hesitation.
When in fact, she was nothing of the sort.
She was merely a pathetic human who had tried to forcibly take away their hope—their Saintess, nothing more than a seventeen-year-old girl.
Someone who had concluded Hibernia’s doom and tried to abandon them all and flee.
She felt nauseous.
So much so that she wanted to vomit everything up despite having eaten nothing.
“Lady Claire!”
“Hero...”
“Our savior...”
It felt as though everyone she passed was calling out to her.
As if they were shouting with hope upon seeing her.
Her steps faltered, her body swayed.
Her eyes, bloodshot from several sleepless nights, grew stiff and dry.
“Claire...”
“Claire...!”
“Why... why...!”
Everyone passing by grabbed her, blood tears streaming from both eyes.
Where eyes had fallen out, maggots crawled; if arms were torn off, they reached with legs.
If legs were ripped away, they crawled with arms, somehow catching hold of Claire.
This was perhaps the future.
Everyone she passed would eventually die cruelly, looking not so different from those visions.
Despairing under the pouring rain of monsters.
Desperately calling out to a God who did not exist.
Cursing the false hero who had fled, they would die.
“...!”
“...!”
Neither hero nor anything else.
Incapable... of even imitating the real hero....
“Master!”
Her eyes flashed open at the feeling of someone gently shaking her body.
“Hahk...”
Breath barely came.
Cold sweat covered her forehead.
“Are you all right...?”
Before she knew it, Claire was lying in a bed, with Hamelot and several priests gathered around, watching her with worry.
“You collapsed right after speaking with the Saintess....”
She had collapsed without even realizing it.
It meant her body and mind had been pushed to their limits.
“We will aid your recovery and regeneration. And you must eat, Brother Claire.”
The priests examined Claire’s condition, admonished her several times regarding nutrition and rest, and then left the room.
Only then did Hamelot approach right beside the bed and ask with concern.
“Master, are you really all right?”
“...I’m fine.”
Perhaps thanks to the priests, she had regained some strength.
Still, Hamelot’s worry did not subside.
He was concerned with all his heart.
“Please rest well for a few days, just as the priests said. And make sure to eat.”
How could she?
There was no time to rest.
This was the royal capital, right beside the Order’s headquarters, so it seemed peaceful at a glance, but outside they still suffered the aftermath of the 68th and 69th floors.
Moreover, a disaster of the 70th floor—bearing power beyond imagination, unlike anything the Empire had ever faced—would soon arrive.
Claire looked silently at Hamelot without answering.
Why had she brought this child all the way here?
Had she been so naive as to think everything would turn out well?
Or had she simply needed someone when her mind was pushed to its limit?
She slowly rose from the bed.
“Uh... you need to rest...?”
“I’m fine.”
*Beep—*
Along with the familiar vibration, orders in cipher appeared on the blue wrist guard.
Rising from the bed, she glanced at it.
\- Daemon and Melissa have departed. The 70th floor will soon collapse, so hurry.
Orders to hurry and escape Hibernia with the Saintess.
*Click*—Claire removed the wrist guard and tossed it roughly into the corner of the room.
Then she looked down at Hamelot.
“Do you still think I’m a hero?”
At Claire’s question, Hamelot nodded without a moment’s hesitation.
“Of course!”
He was wrong.
She was no hero.
She could never be one.
Hamelot had simply never met a real hero, so he mistook her for one.
“...I see.”
But.
“Let’s leave it at that.”
Just leave it at that.
Because it would all soon be meaningless.
Because the impending disaster would reveal everything.
Then Hamelot, too, would know the truth.
That she was not some hero who could solve everything, that she lacked such ability.
Everyone’s gazes would change, and they would be disappointed.
But in the end, it would all be pointless.
Before the vast disaster about to unfold, humans would be helplessly swept away.
In a world where the hero was dead, the Saintess would die, and even God did not exist—there was no future.
Letting everything go, she felt somehow a little more at peace in a corner of her heart.
The room Claire and Hamelot left.
From the discarded blue artifact, the final undelivered message flickered faintly before soon losing its light and vanishing.
\- The Commander's request that you not get any foolish ideas....