Ch.7171. The Saint and the Hero (3)

“How… How could this happen?”

The voice of the evil god worshipper was trembling. He looked down at his severed limbs, which were oozing black, tar-like blood. It seemed that the crazed swordsman had no concept of moderation. The matchup was unfavorable for them. People who swing their swords mercilessly once they judge someone as an enemy. People who show no openings to exploit.

“You really sliced up all these monsters by yourself.”

Under Bishop Andre’s foot was an evil god worshipper, struggling with countless daggers embedded in him. The bishop stepped on its head with a crunch, as if it were merely a footrest, and calmly looked at Aryen. In front of Aryen lay piles of severed tentacles and dismembered body parts of evil god worshippers soaking in pools of blood.

“They used their repulsive power without hesitation. Thanks to that, it took longer than expected.”

Aryen muttered while kicking away the tentacles left by the evil god worshippers in disgust. Since he needed to capture them to extract information about their backers, he couldn’t kill them instantly. Fighting while controlling his strength was sometimes more difficult than fighting at full power.

The power of the Calamity was formidable. The tentacles regenerated no matter how many times he cut them. If he used his aura, he would likely kill them, but otherwise, he had to keep restraining them. So Aryen continued to hold them down. He blocked, cut, and sliced the tentacles and attacks of the five or six enemies that rushed at him at once. Until they could no longer regenerate.

“Vicious… bastard.”

The evil god worshipper muttered while looking at Aryen. Aryen looked down at the worshippers with a face full of hatred. He seemed to want to spit on them.

“If you can create more tentacles, go ahead. I’ll take on as many as you can make.”

The tentacles couldn’t even graze Aryen, let alone cause him meaningful damage. Aryen showed no signs of fatigue. The Calamity worshipper’s face contorted before he tilted his head back and collapsed. Aryen raised his head and shook it in disapproval.

“I’ve never seen such deranged people. I wonder if worshipping an evil god made them this way, or if they were like this from the beginning and that’s why they worship an evil god.”

“That’s something even we don’t know. And if you’re curious, you should ask directly now.”

The bishop crushed the worshipper’s head against the floor one last time and approached the leader of the worshippers. He still had many daggers left in his cloak. Enough to question him all night long.

“Would you help me with the interrogation process?”

“You talk as if you’re not worried at all about what’s happening outside.”

“Well, with the Hero here, wouldn’t it be stranger to worry?”

Bishop Andre reached into his cloak and began rummaging around, selecting suitable daggers.

“As long as the Hero is here, everything will be fine no matter what happens.”

“…You seem to trust that guy quite a bit.”

“Rather than trust, I’d call it faith. Similar to religious belief.”

The bishop pulled out a thin, sharp dagger from his pocket. He rubbed the blade to check if it was sharply honed, nodded in satisfaction, and gripped it in reverse.

“It’s respect for someone who has exceeded my expectations and achieved results far beyond what I could have offered.”

Bishop Andre stepped on the severed arm of the evil god worshipper and bent his knee. His smiling expression seemed genuinely joyful. The bishop then thrust the dagger in front of the evil god worshipper’s face.

“Now, shall we start with a simple taste? This is work, after all.”

“Do you… think we would open our mouths just because you do this?”

In response to the evil god worshipper’s resolute words, Bishop Andre chuckled.

“Everyone who falls into my hands says the same thing. That they won’t talk. Do you know how many of them kept their mouths shut until the end?”

As Bishop Andre ran his hand down the blade, golden holy magic rose around him. The bishop’s holy magic emitted a light like fire burning in a cave.

“Let’s see how long you can hold out. Being an evil god worshipper, perhaps you can endure a bit longer?”

The evil god worshipper’s expression twisted at Bishop Andre’s smile. Taking advantage of the moment, Andre sat right on top of the evil god worshipper.

“Since there’s nothing left to break or cut off, shall we start by peeling off some skin? It would be best to touch the face last. If I pulled out all your teeth now, you wouldn’t be able to answer.”

The evil god worshipper glared at Bishop Andre as if about to snort in derision, but when the blade wrapped in holy magic touched his skin, he froze immediately. With a sizzling sound, smoke rose from the severed limbs. A gleam of ecstasy flickered in Bishop Andre’s eyes, and the evil god worshipper shook his head with a terrified expression.

“W-wait. Aaaaargh!”

Bishop Andre shallowly inserted the blade into the evil god worshipper’s flesh, as if skinning him. The blade struggled to penetrate the resistance of the tentacles, but the slow sensation of cutting through flesh seemed all the more painful. Bishop Andre enjoyed the screams as if they were background music and turned his head to look at Aryen.

“Since we’re pretty much done here, would you like to check the situation outside? It’s almost dawn, but there’s no news, which suggests that Isis has indeed succeeded.”

Aaaaargh!

Aryen looked at the evil god worshipper screaming again and turned to leave the brewery. The sky was changing to a dim navy blue. On the main road stretching from the end of the brewery, people who had been worshipping the apocalypse earlier were gathered, discussing with serious expressions. And beyond their shoulders, those who appeared to be evil god worshippers were struggling with their hands and feet bound.

“George.”

Aryen approached George, who was watching over the evil god worshippers. The knight commander’s contorted face, glaring intently, was more frightening than that of any beast. George looked up at Aryen and raised an eyebrow.

“Aryen. Did you capture all the others?”

“Yes. Bishop Andre is probably having a conversation with them in the brewery right now.”

Not a proper conversation, I’m sure. George frowned.

“What about Isis?”

George slapped his palm as if just remembering.

“Isis succeeded. She completely healed that child. Her healing magic must have improved; she even made the child’s severed hand grow back.”

George spoke with a weak voice. Despite the plan being executed as Isis had said, he seemed more concerned about something else than happy.

“So she succeeded.”

“Yes. Thanks to that, Isis’s healing abilities were able to grow as well.”

George looked at the people.

“…What’s happening with those people?”

“A resident who received help from Isis is trying hard to persuade them. Those who were skeptical have mostly started to doubt the apocalypse worship, though some are still denying reality.”

I see.

Aryen nodded.

“Isis is safe, right?”

“Yes. She’s exhausted from using too much magic, but she’s unharmed. Ilroy took her back to the church.”

At the words “unharmed,” Aryen let out a small sigh of relief. When those residents had left the brewery as if they would stop at nothing, he thought things outside might go wrong.

“…Yes. Ilroy protected her again this time.”

George muttered. Aryen looked at the villagers expressionlessly before taking a step. He had been putting it off, but he couldn’t delay any longer.

A conversation was needed. A conversation with the Hero.

Aryen steeled himself and moved forward. To face some form of truth, or change, that he had been deliberately avoiding until now.

==

One fact I didn’t know while reading the original work: Isis was a crybaby.

“I’m sorry.”

She had been sniffling continuously while I was holding her, and now that we’d arrived at the church and I’d seated her in the bedroom, she started crying again. What’s wrong with her suddenly? Did she eat something bad? I awkwardly sat cross-legged on the floor opposite the bed where Isis was sitting.

“It was my fault, but at that time I was just scared… I didn’t think about the people here either.”

Sniff.

Isis shed tears like chicken droppings. When she wiped her eyes with her hands, the tears flowed down her fingers. She’s crying so pitifully that I’m feeling embarrassed.

“[Why don’t you comfort her? It seems a bit awkward to just leave her like this.]”

Sorry. I’m not good at comforting, and there’s a reason why I can’t comfort her.

I sighed and adjusted my position to sit more comfortably. At my sigh, Isis’s shoulders flinched. Looking at her like this, I could really feel how young Isis still was. Isis hung her head and sniffled, trying to compose herself, then raised her face. Her eyes were blue, but her eyelids were bright red. Her hair was sticking to various parts of her face. What a mess.

“Isis.”

When I called her name, Isis nodded.

“Yes.”

“First of all, good job. Thanks to you, we were able to save this place from crisis. We probably succeeded in catching the tail of the evil god worshippers too. And there will be opportunities to care for more injured people.”

Isis blinked. Teardrops splashed slightly as she blinked.

“I was just making up a little for what I didn’t think about back then. I’ll need to continue caring for people from now on. Finding those who are sick, those who are writhing in pain.”

Isis’s words had become much more mature. I thought that was fortunate and gave a small smile.

“Yes. That’s good.”

“…It’s thanks to you insisting that I should be dispatched here.”

Isis’s voice was becoming smaller as she said this.

“I didn’t even think about that. Just, at that time, I hated you… I ran out after saying those things in anger. But you didn’t even blame me.”

I’ve done many things wrong. Isis gave a dry laugh and hung her head again.

“Back then, I failed to instill faith in my party members. Despite being called a Hero.”

“No. What I… what we did wrong was too great. If I had trusted you then, like you trusted me the day before yesterday.”

I shook my head. It’s good to think about and recall past mistakes, but it’s not good to drift into hypotheticals. We should avoid repeating them; hypotheticals only keep us dwelling in the past.

“My magic power has recovered a bit. I’ll heal you right away.”

Isis said, clenching her fist. Then she got down from the bed and came a little closer to me. Isis’s hand touched my head where the wound was. I unconsciously raised my hand, and Isis’s expression became gloomy again when she saw the hole pierced through my hand.

“It… hurt a lot, didn’t it?”

Isis very carefully took my injured hand in hers.

“In… instead of me. Sob.”

I couldn’t let Isis reveal that fact. At the moment when people’s faith was shifting from the apocalypse worshippers’ logic to Isis’s dedication, if Isis confessed her mistake, the situation would be overturned, and even those who had been denying the apocalypse worship might be affected unpredictably.

“It’s okay.”

Yes. If I could save them by incurring their anger and resentment, by taking a few thrown stones, then that was enough. I’ve been hit by a giant’s fist before, so what’s a stone?

“I’m sorry.”

The depth of that apology was profound. That “I’m sorry” probably wasn’t just meant for me. Hmm, has the tear fountain burst again? Isis was kneading my hand and then silently started shedding tears again. And then, a warm golden power slowly enveloped me from my head. The throbbing sensation gradually began to disappear.

“…It’s healed.”

After a while, Isis said, removing her hand. The wound was literally gone without a trace. It would have been nice if we had such a healer in our party too. I smiled bitterly.

“Now you can use this power to help more people.”

“Yes. I will do that.”

Isis nodded. Her face was a mess, but she was still beautiful. A heroine isn’t just anyone, after all.

“[Do you make a habit of thinking anyone you look at is beautiful?]”

…No. No, I don’t.

The Holy Sword was about to make a strange misunderstanding. I barely restrained myself from shaking my head vigorously and gripped the Holy Sword’s hilt firmly.

“…I’ll go wash my face.”

Isis said as she got up. She did need to wash her face. Wipe away the tears. Blow her nose. Fix her hair. Isis trudged to the door and opened it.

“I see the conversation is over.”

And Isis froze with rabbit eyes when she faced the person standing at the doorway. It was Aryen, looking somewhat tired. Did he come looking for Isis? It seems he caught the evil god worshippers successfully.

Contrary to my expectation, Aryen glanced at Isis slipping out the door and then turned his head back into the room. Looking directly at me.

“Let’s talk.”

I blinked as I looked at Aryen who had said this to me.