Chapter 26 - Adjustment

It was a moment worthy of a scene from myth.

Once that moment passed—a giant that had lived since creation falling to a single blow from a mere human—everything that followed began to resolve itself with almost absurd simplicity.

Terdan, felled by Bargo's strike, sank back into slumber where it lay.

The pursuers either failed to escape Bargo's attack and were annihilated, or survived and scattered in flight.

Watching them, Bargo muttered something along the lines of, ["Bah, tsk. Youngsters these days have no spirit."] Then he returned to the Holy Empire.

Bera had followed him back to the Holy Empire exactly two days ago.

In the Grand Temple's infirmary, Bera sat beside the bed. Shaking off his thoughts of the events two days earlier, he looked at Renée.

She was asleep, her face peaceful. It was the same sight he had been watching for two days since returning to the Holy Empire.

'... Fortunately, there was no backlash.'

She had used up every last bit of her divine energy and would need some time to recover, but there were no signs of any other permanent damage.

Her continued sleep was also a result of her depleted divine energy and the exhaustion from their journey wearing her body down.

Renée would be able to wake soon.

As Bera continued thinking, he suddenly felt his fist clench and frowned.

'This is because I wasn't good enough.'

She had used her divine powers because he had failed to protect her more securely at that moment. Because he had let her see him in danger, she was still lying here.

The fact that carrying Renée had restricted his movements, the fact that he had needed to match Norn's pace...

'... They're excuses.'

Excuses to cover up his own inadequacy.

He needed to be strong enough to disregard all those secondary concerns. Anyone who protected the Saintess ought to possess that kind of strength.

As he continued thinking, Bera recalled the blow Bargo had delivered two days earlier.

That near-miraculous divine energy, which crushed the air all around him the instant he released it. The red mace formed by gathering it together. The overwhelming, ominous presence that brought death to mind merely by looking at it.

The moment he saw it, he had understood.

'I can't win.'

Even if he fought Bargo a hundred times, he could not defeat him.

It was a sense of defeat Bera had never experienced in his life.

Never before had he looked at another person and thought he could never win. Yet when he saw that mace, he could think nothing else.

And whenever he recalled it, a doubt surfaced alongside it.

'For a man like that to die of... '

Old age. And only six years from now, at that.

Recalling the history of his previous life, Bera snorted and continued his thoughts.

'Impossible.'

It was utter nonsense. However inexorable the passage of time might be, a man with divine energy capable of crushing space itself could not possibly die in a mere six years.

Bera was certain.

'The information made public was falsified.'

He did not know the reason. Why Bargo had died, or why his death had been announced as one of old age. That was only natural, since he had not the slightest clue to go on.

But Bera did know what would happen when Bargo died.

His gaze returned to Renée.

'... War.'

The continental war that would erupt the moment Bargo died.

The entire continent would rise up in a war to claim the Saintess. Once the peerless man backing her was gone, the continent would begin a long, long war to possess Renée, a divine treasure manifested in the mortal world.

His eyes darkened as he studied Renée's face.

Her hair fell neatly around her, her eyes firmly closed. She slept peacefully, breathing softly.

After watching her, Bera shifted his gaze to her hand and continued thinking.

It was a war fought over this girl's one small hand, a war in which a temporary truce was reached only when the Demon King rose to power.

And Bera knew what choice Renée would make to stop that war.

A false funeral.

Renée would relinquish her divine powers, erase her existence, and hide in the slums.

She would give herself up to stop the war.

Still thinking, Bera laid his hand over Renée's, which filled his vision.

Then he gripped it tightly, his rough hand entwining with her small one, free of even a single callus.

Resolve settled in Bera's mind once more.

'... I have to stop it.'

That war. The wounds it would inflict on her. The life she would ultimately abandon.

He had to protect her from all of it.

Warmth flowed from her small hand.

Feeling it seep into him, Bera continued thinking. What must he do to protect this warmth? How could he protect Renée?

The answer came without a moment's hesitation.

'Strength.'

That was what he needed. Strength that would prevent anyone from even daring to think of targeting the Saintess.

And Bera knew someone who possessed that strength.

'Bargo Saintroar.'

A long breath escaped him at the thought of the man. His gaze grew somber.

Keeping Bargo alive longer was the surest solution, but without knowing how he would die, staking everything on that uncertain possibility would be foolish.

Even saving him would not change that. Bargo's remaining time was different from his and Renée's. One day he, too, would have to face death, and that day would come far sooner than theirs.

Bera lowered his gaze to their still-entwined hands as he reached his conclusion.

'... I have to.'

He had to become as strong as Bargo.

In that instant, he felt a fighting spirit rise within him, born of a desire he had never known in his life: to surpass someone else.

Honestly, this time he lacked confidence.

More precisely, Bargo's display of might had been so overwhelming that he could make no guarantees.

But even so...

'... I must do it.'

Not that he could, but that he must.

That resolve alone was enough to engrave upon his heart.

* * *

Renée found herself facing a dilemma.

'Should I say I'm awake?'

She had already been awake for more than ten minutes. The sensation of a rough hand had met her as soon as she regained consciousness, and she had kept silent ever since. Now the question left her feeling awkward.

She had no doubts about whose hand was entwined with hers. She could tell by touch alone.

It was Bera's hand.

That rough, uneven hand she had kept holding over the past few days.

As she continued pondering, feeling his hand against hers, Renée decided she should first figure out the situation.

She could have told Bera she was awake and heard an explanation from him, but she was so accustomed to assessing things herself that she never quite reached that option.

'What's going on?'

What was happening for Bera to be holding her hand like this?

First, Renée checked her physical condition.

'My body feels fine... '

No, better than fine. She felt much better than before they had left, more energetic than she had in quite some time.

'And where I'm lying... '

Next she considered her surroundings.

Soft fabric enveloped her whole body. Bera's breathing was steady, and she could hear no other sounds. It seemed they had reached somewhere safe while she slept.

Probably the Holy Empire. A bedroom or an infirmary, most likely.

Next, why was she here?

Renée considered the question and continued thinking.

Just before she collapsed, she had used her divine powers. Her wish had been for herself, Bera, and Norn to escape safely.

As she pieced together her current situation and the wish she had made...

'Oh... '

It occurred to her that the divine powers she had invoked before collapsing might have worked properly, allowing them to escape here.

No, that must be it.

She had definitely felt something unusual happening just before she collapsed, so she was certain.

Only then did Renée fully understand the situation.

'I saved them.'

She had saved Bera and Norn with her own hands.

Her heart thumped, beat after beat, and satisfaction welled within her.

Satisfaction at having saved someone with these hands.

Satisfaction at not having been helpless.

At that sudden realization, Renée clenched her hand tight without even knowing it.

Bera's hand, still entwined with hers, twitched.

"... Saintess?"

His voice rang through the room.

Renée flinched at his voice. Flustered, she began awkwardly lifting her eyelids.

"M-mm..."

Her movements were stiff and so awkward that anyone who wasn't a fool would have recognized the act.

"You're awake? How are you feeling?"

Fortunately, Bera's concern for her had clouded his judgment, and he failed to notice.

At his response, Renée breathed a small, inward sigh of relief. Apparently, he had not discovered that she had already been awake.

Just imagine how embarrassing it would be if he found out she had been lying there quietly, holding his hand without letting him know she was awake.

She had no desire whatsoever to experience such embarrassment. Hearing his worried tone, she offered him a small apology in her heart and spoke.

"Where are we...?"

"In the Holy Empire. Fortunately, His Holiness was at the border, so we were able to reach this place safely. More importantly, are you feeling all right?"

"A-a little stiff."

She stumbled over her words. The concern in his voice was simply too intense.

Embarrassment surged again, and Renée squeezed her eyes shut. Seeing that, Bera spoke with even greater concern.

"Are you feeling unwell after all? Please wait a moment. I'll fetch a priest right—"

"No! I'm fine! I'm perfectly fine!"

Her voice came out in a shrill shout. Bera's overreaction to even her smallest movement sent her heart racing, and she hurried on.

"I feel refreshed! M-much more than when I was in the village! So much more! Is there some secret to it?!"

She was fine.

As Renée babbled to get that point across, Bera let out a long breath and sat back down.

"That is only natural, since the priests healed you. Healing through sacred arts also restores vitality to the body."

"O-oh, I see...!"

Renée nodded slightly at his explanation, a smile forming on her lips. She turned toward his voice.

"Um... how many days has it been since I collapsed?"

"Two days."

Two days. Surprise crossed Renée's face at the answer.

"That long?"

It felt as though she had merely gone to sleep and woken as usual. Had that much time already passed?

"Yes. It is truly a relief that you've woken in such good health. His Holiness and all the other faithful were very concerned."

"The faithful?"

"Yes. The other apostles and all the priests living in the Holy Empire were worried about you, Saintess."

"Oh..."

Only upon hearing that did Renée truly feel that she had entered the Holy Empire.

She had willingly set foot in the place she had sworn never even to look at, out of resentment toward the gods.

It was a situation that should naturally have stirred anxiety or displeasure.

Yet her heart was so calm that it surprised even her.

"... I see."

As she spoke, Renée shifted her fingers against his hand.

She felt its warmth and the slight roughness of his skin.

'Is it because of this?'

Was this hand the reason she felt so calm? The thought prompted a small, incredulous laugh.

'What am I thinking?'

What did this have to do with her peace of mind? Chuckling at how ridiculous her own thought was, Renée soon shook it off and asked Bera a question.

A question about what she would have to do from now on.

"What will I be doing now?"

"For the moment, I believe you should focus on recovering. After that... we are currently selecting people to attend you, so your duties will begin in earnest once the staff has been finalized. I apologize for not giving you a more satisfactory—"

"No apologies."

"... Yes."

What was he apologizing for this time? Renée gave a crooked little smile at his attitude. His explanation made her think that she was really going to become the Saintess now, and a question slipped out.

"... Will I be able to do it well?"

It was only natural to worry.

Could a blind girl who had never left her little farming village in her life, an idiot who could not even use her divine powers properly without collapsing, fulfill such an important role?

When Renée voiced that worry, Bera answered in a tone that was almost emphatic.

"You will be able to become someone better suited to that position than anyone else, Saintess."

"But what if..."

"There are no 'what ifs.'"

It was rare for him to interrupt her. For some reason, his answer left a ticklish feeling inside her, and she added another question.

"Because you'll make sure of it, Sir Knight?"

"Yes."

Bera's answer carried more certainty than she herself possessed.

Renée wondered how he could be so sure. Yet, for some reason, she found that faith reassuring, and she nodded slightly.

"... I'd better get well soon."

She tightened her grip, and the warmth of the hand she had been holding grew stronger.

The warmth of someone who believed in her.

It made her anxiety ease a little.