Chapter 59: Crisis of life and death(2)

The Holy Sword Exia couldn’t lie.

Not because there was some mystical force binding her from doing so.

If that were the case, declaring Sion as the “Hero” would have been impossible from the start.

No, the reason she couldn’t lie was simply that it showed.

It showed in her face, her voice, and her tone. It was as if her entire being screamed, “I’m lying!” whenever she tried.

For someone in hiding, this was a deeply frustrating trait, but surprisingly, Sion rarely gave her a hard time about it.

She understood that it wasn’t a matter of willpower but an inherent trait of Exia’s being.

In fact, the fact that Exia had remained silent about Sion’s deception—her masquerade as a hero—meant she was already doing more than enough.

Sion, understanding this, chose to focus on practical solutions rather than complaining.

She gave Exia instructions to pretend to be asleep whenever someone tried talking to her or crafted a believable backstory for Exia’s human form, “Iris,” to protect their cover.

But no matter how careful Sion was, she couldn’t account for every variable.

This moment was a perfect example of that.

“… Huh? You said, ‘You saw?’”

-‘Oh no!?!?!’

Exia internally screamed. Her mouth had betrayed her yet again.

Before Therese could even explain fully, she had basically admitted to everything.

It was practically a confession!

Desperately, Exia looked around, searching for the one person who always bailed her out of situations like this.

Searching to send a telepathic plea for help.

But—!

She’s not here. Sion isn’t here.

And in that moment, Exia realized she was facing the biggest crisis of her life.

“Exia,” Therese leaned in with a sly grin, pressing her advantage. “What do you mean by ‘you saw’? What did you see me witness? I’m dying of curiosity here. Tell me~”

Oh no oh no oh no oh no…!

Exia’s mind spun at breakneck speed, trying to find a way out.

The pressure she felt from Therese, combined with the subtle but menacing gleam in her demon eyes, was suffocating for the timid sword.

Calm down, me! It’s not over yet! There’s no solid proof! I just need to deny everything!

Yes, that’s all she had to do.

As long as she denied it confidently and kept her story straight, what could Therese possibly do? As a sword, she was indestructible—no one could physically threaten her.

She just needed to channel her inner Sion, who always got away with things through sheer bravado.

Exia took a deep breath, steeling her nerves.

-“M-M-M-M-Miss Therese, I-I h-have no idea what you’re t-t-t-talking about! What are you s-s-saying?! I d-d-d-don’t understand a s-s-s-single thing!!”

“…”

Therese wasn’t particularly known for her sharp wits.

If anything, she was often slow to pick up on things. But even she knew how to add 1+1 and get 2.

She wasn’t dense enough not to see that Exia was clearly lying.

“….Exia.”

-“Y-Y-Yes?!”

Exia, so tense that she bit her tongue, was clearly rattled.

Anyone could see she was hiding something.

Therese leaned forward, her expression suddenly serious.

“Is it true? Is what I saw really true? Was I right?”

-“What do you mean…”

“Don’t try to play dumb! It’s obvious you’re hiding something!”

Therese shouted, grabbing hold of Exia’s hilt tightly.

“What really happened? I may not know the hero well enough to accuse her, but you, Exia, are not someone who would ever remain silent in the face of injustice!

You were the one who opposed burning the forest to cleanse the pollution at Gliwitz, right? So how did you end up defending a situation where an innocent person was killed?

Explain it to me! How did this happen?”

-“Hiccup…!?”

Exia’s heart sank. She saw it? That scene, of all things?

I told Sion over and over to recruit Beryl instead of eliminating her!

Exia’s thoughts raced, sweat beading in her mind.

She knew pretending this never happened was pointless.

Therese’s sharp, unwavering gaze showed that she was 100% certain something was off. It was one of those gut-punching stares that hit her conscience, making it impossible to brush aside.

What do I do?

Should she just spill the truth and get it over with?

After all, Sion wasn’t here. For a brief moment, Exia was genuinely tempted by the thought.

This entire charade was stressful for her—why did a holy sword have to participate in such a dishonest act?

Wouldn’t it be better, as a sacred sword crafted by the goddess herself, to confess the truth and beg for forgiveness?

Exia almost followed that impulse.

Her thoughts were nearly voiced aloud as the words, “The truth is…” began to form in her throat.

But just before the confession escaped her lips, a memory of Sion surfaced.

“Listen up, all of you.”

Sion’s voice from a past conversation echoed in Exia’s mind, calm but firm.

“I don’t criticize anyone for being incompetent.

Everyone has shortcomings. No one can always play with a Royal Straight Flush in hand. That’s just common sense, and it’s not worth pointing out.”

“What matters is not how perfect your hand is, but how far you can go with the cards you’re dealt.”

“How much effort you put in, how hard you fight, and how little regret you leave behind when you face reality. That’s all that matters to me. The outcome is secondary.”

Exia remembered when Sion had said this—it was back in Phrygia, to cheer up Mana after a failure.

Sion had always upheld this belief, reassuring others that trying and not giving up mattered more than perfection.

‘It’s not shameful to be lacking. But giving up because of it? That’s pathetic.’

‘Giving up is only for when you’ve truly exhausted all options.’

Exia could almost see Sion’s face, disappointed, looking at her with disgust if she gave in to the temptation now.

“How pathetic,” she imagined Sion thinking.

No, she couldn’t bear it.

Exia would rather erase her own identity than endure that look of disdain from Sion.

Resolved, Exia spoke up.

-“It’s not what you think.”

“Huh? What did you say?”

“It’s not what you think! I can swear with absolute certainty—she didn’t kill anyone!”

Exia declared with full conviction, raising her voice in defiance.

“There is no way something like what you’re imagining happened! I swear on the honor of the Holy Sword! You don’t think I’d lie about that, do you?!”

Therese, surprised by Exia’s sudden burst of passion, scratched her head, momentarily unsure.

That’s right. Exia couldn’t lie.

The trick wasn’t in avoiding the truth, but in telling only the parts that were true.

The truth itself was simple: Sion didn’t kill Beryl.

What Sion did was kill Tarkus, who had transformed into Beryl.

The real Beryl was still alive somewhere. This wasn’t a lie—Exia could say this without hesitation.

And that was all Exia needed.

Exia’s inability to lie so blatantly had become a strength in this moment.

When she pressed her argument this firmly, no one would question its truthfulness.

Sion’s lesson of “doing the best with the cards you’re dealt” had come through once again.

“Then if she wasn’t killed, what did I see? I clearly saw the hero shoot that laser and pierce the maid’s chest! The wound looked exactly the same!”

-“Ugh…!”

Of course, even the best temporary excuses have their limits.

Therese’s reasonable question hit Exia like a direct counter.

And with Exia’s brainpower being less than stellar in moments of stress, she couldn’t think of any plausible explanation to soothe the suspicion.

In the end, there was only one option left.

-“T-That… I… I can’t explain it! I’m sorry!”

“What?! Why not?!”

-“A-Anyway, I just can’t! You’ll have to wait until the hero comes back and ask her for permission! I’m not allowed to talk about it!”

Exia pressed her lips tightly together, deciding to stay silent as her last line of defense.

It was the best solution she could come up with in that moment.

Now, all she could do was hope that someone smarter and more skilled at crafting excuses—someone who was a natural-born liar—would arrive to clean up this mess.

‘Please, Sion… hurry up…!’

Exia prayed desperately.

For once, she truly missed Sion’s presence, despite the stressful circumstances they usually shared.

Meanwhile, while Exia was silently screaming for help, where was our dear Sion?

“Hahaha! What do you think? Fun, right?”

“………”

The answer: she was engrossed in reading a comic book.

And not just any comic book—she was reading a comic book based on herself.

“It has to be fun! [Holy Sword and Demon Sword] is a timeless masterpiece created by the 500-year-long history of Sien x Exia!

Comedy, drama, action, and even accuracy in historical events! It’s a bestseller that everyone loves—young or old, male or female. I’m sure you’re going to love it!”

“………”

Sion silently turned the page.

Sion despised ignorance, especially when people pretended to know what they didn’t.

In her eyes, judging or making assumptions about something without knowing the facts was the height of vulgarity.

That was why, in this moment, Sion found herself reading a romance comic about herself and Exia.

Despite how ridiculous it sounded, she refused to judge it without knowing what it was all about.

‘Damn it… why is this actually good…’

Sion mentally grumbled as she continued reading.

As much as she hated to admit it, the comic Marianne had recommended was surprisingly enjoyable.

She could even understand why Marianne had gotten so upset when Sion had insulted it earlier.

Under different circumstances, Sion might have fully enjoyed it—if only the main character hadn’t been herself.

‘What is this… these lines are exactly what I would say…’

The comic had done an impressive job capturing Sion’s mannerisms, her dialogue, and her personality.

It wasn’t just her; every character in the story, including Exia, felt eerily similar to their real-life counterparts from 500 years ago.

It was as if someone had been following them during their journey, recording every detail to bring the comic to life.

And that’s precisely why it felt so unsettling.

Watching a version of herself, speaking in ways she normally would, sweetly flirting with Exia in the comic pages was too much.

‘…I want to rip this thing apart right now.’

“So? Fun, isn’t it? Right??” Marianne eagerly asked again, unable to contain her excitement.

“………”

It’s like when someone tickles your feet.

You may laugh, but that doesn’t mean you’re happy about it.

Sion had no intention of admitting that she found the comic “enjoyable.”

Sure, there was a certain surface-level pleasure, but her personal distaste for the subject matter far outweighed any fun she might have had.

Eventually, she closed the comic halfway through and said,

“The plot is interesting, but it’s not exactly to my taste. Thanks for recommending it, but I’ll stop here.”

“Whaaat?! How come?! I’ve never heard of anyone saying they didn’t like it!” Marianne gasped, her disbelief palpable.

“Well, now you’ve met your first one. Consider yourself honored.”

Of course, Sion didn’t actually say that aloud.

Instead, she cleared her throat and responded,

“As I’ve mentioned before, I just feel a strong sense of discomfort seeing myself paired with Exia. It keeps distracting me, so I’m sorry.”

“Oh…” Marianne’s face fell, her shoulders slumping.

“I see… So, you’re in the Mana ship camp. Well, I guess that can’t be helped.”

“Wait, what now?”

Sion felt like something even weirder had just been said.

“Oh, ‘Mana shippers’ are those who think Headmaster Mana is the best romantic match for Sien,”

Marianne explained casually.

“I’m in the ‘Exia ship’ camp, and there’s always a debate about who the true partner for Sien should be. It’s called the Exia vs. Mana Wars.”

“…”

Sion broke out into a cold sweat.

In her absence, Elpidion had apparently fallen into complete madness.

And what on earth had Mana been doing to let this go so far?

“Well, it’s fine. I respect other people’s preferences. If you prefer Sien x Mana, I can have my sister recommend some of her favorite works from her collection…”

“N-No, that’s fine. If I need anything, I’ll find it myself,” Sion hastily cut her off, shaking her head furiously.

She could already feel herself getting dragged into an endless abyss, and she wasn’t joking—these fans were scarier than any monster she’d ever faced.

“A-Anyway, let’s head back to class. Break time’s almost over,” Sion suggested, eager to escape the situation.

“Okay… Thanks for humoring me earlier, and sorry for losing my temper…” Marianne replied, her voice soft as she reverted to her usual shy demeanor.

Of course, in Sion’s eyes, she now looked like a predator wrapped in the skin of a harmless girl.

At least Sion had managed to calm her down and could now return to class.

As she walked down the hallway toward the classroom, she thought,

‘I rushed out so quickly that I accidentally left Exia alone in the classroom. But it should be fine, right? She’s been asleep all morning… What could go wrong?’

Sion had been away for only ten minutes.

How much could possibly happen in such a short time?

But as usual, reality has a way of exceeding imagination.

“Come on~~! Just tell me what happened! Please??”

-“I-I said I can’t…!”

“Huh?”

Sion opened the back door to the classroom, only to see Therese tugging at Exia, who was in sword form, while the poor Holy Sword struggled to resist.

‘What the…? What could she possibly be so desperate to know?’

As soon as Exia noticed Sion, her telepathic voice shrieked,

-“Sion! Help!!! We’re in serious trouble right now!!!”

-“…What?”

Sion furrowed her brow.

Something had gone seriously wrong. And it was very, very bad.