Chapter 22 - The End of the Midnight Sun - 5

Renée listened closely to Bera's voice. There was a yearning in it that he could not conceal.

"I will be able to reach it. If I keep walking, someday I will at least tread on the trailing edge of that light. That was what I believed as I walked."

There was doubt.

"But as I pursued that light, I happened to look back, only to find that I had not moved a single step."

And beneath it, there was loathing.

"I thought I was doing something of tremendous importance. I thought I was walking toward an indescribable glory. But only belatedly did I realize that it had all been a delusion."

... There was hatred for himself, something that deserved to be called self-loathing.

After those words, Renée heard a tightly restrained breath fade into the air.

"... Is that how it was?"

"Yes. In the end, it was. I, this foolish wretch, still had not managed to walk."

Renée gave a small nod, signaling that she had heard him out.

She still did not know what Bera was talking about. She had no way of knowing what the light he wished to pursue was, or what it meant to him.

But she knew the emotions within his words.

The yearning that burned through one's entire being, the doubt that turned the world gray, and the self-loathing that grew like fruit at the end of it all.

Renée knew every one of them.

And so she asked,

"So, does that make you sad?"

Bera barely managed to answer, his voice sinking lower still.

"... Rather than sadness, I believe fear would be the right word. What if I remain this way? What if I never reach the light? I think that is the fear within me."

His head drooped beneath the shame welling up inside him.

"I lived my entire life in evil, and only belatedly realized that it was wrong. So I sought to change."

Once again, his previous life flashed through his mind. That unspeakably vile monster passed before him.

"But perhaps that realization alone was not enough. This body still remembers those years fondly. No matter what I do, perhaps nothing will change. Such thoughts keep rising within me."

Even knowing that none of this would make sense to Renée, Bera poured out his confession.

She listened and nodded, feeling the emotions his words conveyed. Then a thought crossed her mind, and she felt a small smile form on her lips.

"You're a fool, Sir Knight."

"Yes, I am the greatest foo—"

"That's not what I mean. You don't even remember what you said yourself."

Bera flinched. At the rustle of his startled movement, Renée's smile deepened.

She remembered perfectly what he had told her when she herself had spoken just like this.

"There's no telling."

It might have been a trite word of comfort, yet it had found its way into her heart.

"Whether you truly won't change, or whether you'll come closer to that light than anyone else in the world—even the gods in the heavens cannot know."

Bera's eyes widened almost painfully at her words.

"That's what you told me, Sir Knight. Have you forgotten already?"

The smile filling his vision. The words reaching his ears.

They overlapped with the woman he had known back then.

Everything about her was different, and yet the two images overlapped all the same.

Skin melted by burns overlaid her flawless complexion. A twisted smile overlaid the gentle curve of her lips. Hair matted with filth overlaid the hair shining beneath the bright sun.

The images merged as though one had been laid over the other, and for a moment, Bera had the illusion that he had regressed to that time.

His thoughts drifted blankly. His mouth opened and closed. With nowhere to go, his fingers clutched aimlessly at empty air.

"Sir Knight?"

She was calling him. Bera could not even answer, only stare vacantly at Renée.

"Sir Knight?"

Only at her second call did he manage a dazed reply.

"Yes..."

"Um, did I offend you?"

Renée asked with an awkward smile, and Bera hurried to answer, flustered.

"No. You are right."

"Am I?"

"Truly, you are."

A smile returned to Renée's lips.

As Bera once again felt as though his soul had left him, she took another step toward him. He backed away without thinking.

THUD.

The fence behind him stopped him from retreating any farther, leaving him to stare dazedly as she approached.

The distance between them shrank.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

Renée approached, tapping the ground until her cane touched the top of Bera's foot.

Only then did she stop. With just enough space for one person left between them, she turned her face toward him.

"Would you give me your hand for a moment?"

It never even occurred to Bera to refuse. He laid his hand over hers.

His rough, scar-covered hand rested on her small, pale one.

As Bera felt his fingertips tremble at the warmth of her hand and its softness, so unlike his own, Renée laid her other hand over their joined hands.

"... There's something you haven't told me yet, isn't there?"

The words came almost as a murmur. Then she said something that flustered him.

"The smell of blood. It's awfully strong."

Bera flinched in alarm and tried to pull his hand away, but Renée tightened her grip, stopping him.

She squeezed hard.

Their skin pressed together without a gap. The warmth passing between them began to turn into searing heat.

"Tell me. I'll say it again: I'm blind, not stupid."

Her voice was firmer than he had ever heard it.

At her voice, her resolute expression, and the warmth of her hands, Bera felt hesitation rise from deep within him.

The words he had withheld because he could not bear to make her worry, because they seemed to place yet another burden on someone already grieving enough, kept trying to escape his lips.

In the end, it was her urging that made him speak.

"Do you think there's anything in this little village that would require you to walk around smelling this strongly of blood?"

Her tone was firm, as though she would tolerate no lies.

Unable to withstand that firmness, Bera spoke in a stifled voice.

"There are people..."

His words trailed off. For some reason, his throat tightened, preventing him from saying it all at once. He bit his lip hard for a moment before continuing.

"...who are after you, Saintess."

The words came as though he were coughing them up.

Renée tightened her grip on his hand.

She could feel the heat in his hand, hear the hesitation in his voice.

"... I am sorry for causing you concern."

Only then did she realize that this inflexible holy knight had said nothing out of consideration for her selfishness.

"You really are a fool."

"My apolo—"

"Don't."

She realized that he had been enduring it alone out of consideration for her selfish feelings.

For some reason, something tightened inside her. Feeling that constriction, Renée continued in a slightly trembling voice.

"Don't apologize. Don't be sorry, either. Just..."

Why hadn't he simply taken her away, even by force? She could not bring herself to ask.

It was all too obvious how she would have reacted if he had. Receiving such consideration from him, she felt it was something she had no right to say, and she bit her lip hard.

The hand touching hers was large. It bore the traces of the life Bera had lived.

To borrow his own words, it was a hand that had struggled desperately to pursue the light.

Renée stroked the back of that slightly cool hand and continued.

"... Thank you."

His hand twitched, trying to slip away again.

Renée held it more tightly, stopping him once more, and added,

"Let's go. To the Holy Empire."

Truthfully, even as she said those words, Renée had no fondness for the gods.

No—she still hated them. She resented the world.

But...

"You're so foolish, Sir Knight, keeping quiet like this. It's too frustrating. I'll have to go myself."

She must not let those feelings hurt someone else.

With someone caring for her like this, she must not make him suffer for her selfishness.

If someone remained steadfastly by her side, she must not turn her back on him.

That, at least, was what Renée believed.

She turned her face toward Bera again.

"Whether I can truly become the Saintess..."

Whether she would forgive the gods, whether she would come to accept these divine powers as a blessing.

"...there's no telling."

Those moments had not yet come. That future had not yet been decided.

"I'm still lacking, but you believe in me even as I am. So I'll go. To the Holy Empire."

As she spoke, Renée used the divine powers she had not once used since the day she was bestowed her sacred mark.

Pure white divine energy blossomed and enveloped Bera.

As it seeped into his skin, he felt the bodily fatigue accumulated from staying awake all night melt away like snow.

Bera looked at Renée.

Smiling faintly as she released her divine energy, she looked like a Saintess out of a painting.

It was a strange sensation. He had the illusion that the space around her alone was separated from the rest of the world, shining brilliantly.

The sight commanded his entire gaze and drew forth, unbidden, something that deserved to be called awe.

Watching her, Bera parted his lips and spoke.

"It is not uncertain."

"What?"

"You will become a saint truly worthy of being called the Saintess."

Renée let out a disbelieving little laugh.

"How can you guarantee that?"

"I will make it so. There is no 'if.'"

The moment he spoke, Bera felt the Oath inscribed on his soul burn warmly.

He shivered at the sensation warming him through, then parted his lips again.

"Even if you stumble and fall, I will remain by your side so that you can rise again. You will become a greater saint than anyone else."

Renée laughed again. A smile formed on Bera's lips without his even realizing it.

"Can you promise that?"

"I can swear it."

As he spoke, Bera manifested his sacred mark.

Upon the Oath engraved in his soul, he inscribed another, pressing each word firmly over the first.

"For you, Saintess, so that you may attain the greatest glory. That is how I will live."

The Oath burned. Blazing brilliantly upon his ink-black soul, it filled Bera with satisfaction.

No greater strength welled up within him. No more divine energy was granted to him.

The two overlapping Oaths were simply making his heart more steadfast.

Renée nodded at his words, her thoughts continuing.

She did not know why Bera treated her with such devotion. She only had a vague sense that these divine powers of the Supreme God, and the fact that she was the Saintess, meant a great deal to him.

She did not dislike that.

Whatever his reasons, he had conveyed his feelings to her like this. Was it not only right to return them?

Since he trusted her, was it not only right for her to trust him as well?

Feeling the smile rising to her lips and the warmth reaching her fingertips, Renée spoke softly.

"Yes. I'll be counting on you."

Once she had said it, something fluttered inside her, though she could not say why.