episode_0066

“Keep explaining. So how exactly did granting these so-called ‘wishes’ turn you into a deranged monster that treats people like fools?”

“Fairchild merely… nudges people to fulfill their wishes. As I said before, it gives new purpose to those who have lost theirs and helps the lost achieve their childhood dreams. But the Church wasn’t satisfied with that.”

“Wasn’t satisfied?”

“They abused its power. The Pope and the rest secretly took money, exploiting Fairchild’s aid as if it were some omnipotent holy grail. To the point of exhaustion.”

“Exhaustion? Since when do miracles get exhausted? You’re talking like it’s human.”

“It was inevitable. Fairchild’s power and time were too limited to grant and push forward every single wish that poured in. So it made a decision—to satisfy many at once, rather than one at a time.”

“And that’s regression? That makes no sense!”

“Why not? If everyone stopped thinking and just lived by instinct, no one would be dissatisfied.”

“That’s no different from being a mindless beast. You really think that’s the path to happiness?”

“To Fairchild, that doesn’t matter. In its eyes, there’s no difference between us now and us reduced to thrashing beasts. If everyone reverted to ignorant newborns, like when it first descended here, conflict and such problems would diminish. No thoughts, no hatred, no love—just eating and sleeping day after day.”

“That’s the worst…”

“Oh? But if we follow this method, even Eric wouldn’t have to suffer. Everyone could live in peace. Though I’m sure he’d be the first to protest.”

“That can’t happen!”

“Yes, I know.”

The only thing driving them now was a shallow, desperate emotion—for Eric’s sake.

“Running away like this isn’t atonement. Speaking of which, Cecilia.”

“Yes?”

“You… still haven’t said anything to him, have you?”

“No. What right do I have, as I am now, to speak to him? In that regard, I respect you, Chris. Who’d have thought you’d brazenly apologize first despite having done nothing for him? Did living on the streets teach you that pride doesn’t matter?”

“Ugh, that’s—”

Christine had been tormented by the other three ever since confessing that she’d apologized to Eric before them. So when Cecilia brought it up, she couldn’t help but grimace.

“Thanks to me, everyone’s holding back now, aren’t they? If anything, you should be grateful.”

“And what if Eric feels unnecessary pressure because of what you said?”

“……”

Christine had strictly kept Eric’s request until now. Eric still had faint memories of them. But he had no intention of accepting their apologies or remorse.

Hadn’t he coughed up blood just hearing her apology?

“What if… Eric regains his memories?”

“Huh?”

“It’s just a hypothetical. You saw it too, didn’t you? How he acted when we fought in front of the guild.”

“So his memories aren’t gone?”

“It’s not impossible. They might have been erased for some reason, or he might have lost them.”

“Even so, that has nothing to do with us now. Apologizing and begging for forgiveness is something we can do after proving our worth to him.”

“I agree.”

If they clung to Eric now, drowning in regret and pleas for forgiveness, it would just be selfish, self-indulgent whining. So for now, they would silently do what Eric couldn’t.

“We’re almost there. Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me say this again—this infiltration isn’t about slaying Fairchild or exposing the Church’s corruption.”

“I know. Our goal is just gathering intel, right?”

“Right. Observe only, no combat. If either of us shows signs of trouble, we retreat immediately. Understood?”

“Then make sure your mental barrier’s up.”

The door sealing away the monster that regressed all of humanity was surprisingly plain. Just a round handle on an unadorned surface.

But that only confirmed it. A door imprisoning Fairchild wouldn’t have the luxury of ornate decorations—not with the magic required to contain it.

“Open it?”

At Cecilia’s nod, Christine gripped the handle without hesitation and pushed the door open smoothly.

“Ah…”

“……”

What lay beyond wasn’t a grotesque monster, a holy miracle, or even the Fairchild they knew.

“Huh? What are you guys doing here?”

Eric stared back at them, his expression utterly baffled.

——

“This won’t cut it.”

“It seems pretty clear to me. Is it still not enough?”

“There’s no definitive proof. All we have is that the bag suddenly vanished. The Church could easily cover up something like this.”

It was infuriating, but under the current Church’s “fairness,” even if the bag had turned invisible or sprouted wings and flown away, they’d dismiss it without a second thought.

“…No.”

Sheryl shook her head lightly.

“No?”

“This is enough. With some magical tweaking, we can reveal the truth to the world.”

“Really?”

Sheryl flashed me a V-sign.

“Propaganda and fabrication are my specialties… Just leave it to me.”

After sending Sheryl off with Dave as her escort to receive the evidence, I cautiously started moving. Lingering in back alleys like this wouldn’t do me any good.

Not that I’m worried about Sheryl and Dave.

But seriously, what are Cecilia and Chris up to?

—–

“You just gonna stand there?”

“A-ah… uhh…”

“I… I…”

What stood before them should have been a monster—an enemy.

He should never have appeared here—

“Sis. What’s going on?”

Christine’s voice cracked as she spoke.

“The mental barrier was supposed to be flawless. So why does he look like—”

“I don’t know! The protection is still active, so why…?!”

Fairchild grants desires and helps people act on them. But individual wishes vary, and a single miracle has its limits—so it changes everyone equally, making them pursue the same desire.

That was the Fairchild Cecilia and Christine knew.

“Don’t tell me Fairchild’s power is this strong? Enough to pierce your barrier and affect us?”

“That’s impossible! My magic was perfect!”

The thing wearing Eric’s form watched their bickering and laughed.

“Don’t worry. Your minds aren’t corrupted.”

“Huh?”

The warmth in “Eric’s” voice sent an uncanny chill down their spines. His appearance, his relaxed demeanor—it was eerily similar to the Eric Grave they knew.

But his way of speaking was nothing like Eric’s.

Unlike Eric’s cold, clipped tone, this voice was gentle and kind.

Suppressing the discomfort from that dissonance, Cecilia spoke.

“Then why do we see you as ‘Eric’?”

“Eric? Ah, I see. So that’s how I appear to you. Thanks for telling me.”

The thing in Eric’s form bowed slightly in gratitude.

“Whatever. Just tell us what to call you. I have zero intention of calling you ‘brother.’”

“Haha. I’d rather not call strangers ‘little sister’ either. Just call me Fairchild. That’s the name you know me by, right?”

“Fine. Fairchild. I’m Cecilia Rastall.”

“I already knew, but… nice to meet you, Cecilia.”

“We’re short on time, so let’s get to the point. You—”

“Hold on! I still have questions.”

Christine pointed at the thing wearing Eric’s form—Fairchild.

“Explain how we’re not mentally corrupted. And don’t bother lying—we already know everything about you!”

“No need to be so hostile. So… hmm… according to your memories, should I call you Chris?”

“It’s Christine.”

“Alright, Christine. Then let me ask you something to confirm whether you’re really corrupted. Is that okay?”

Fairchild smiled kindly.

“What kind of person is the ‘Eric’ you see?”

“Eric is…”

“Brother is…”

After a brief pause, Cecilia and Christine answered.

“My everything.”

“The reason I live.”

Their words differed, but the meaning was the same. Hearing this, Fairchild smiled again.

“This form isn’t born from your desires.”