episode_0110

“Yeah. I knew you’d say that.”

“Aren’t you surprised? I thought you’d scold me or at least be taken aback.”

“If I was the type to be shocked by something like this, I wouldn’t have said I’d stick with you all in the first place.”

“Heehee.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“It’s just… I think I’m being terribly selfish. Here I am, unwilling to change anything myself, leaving everything up to Eric.”

“But you don’t intend to take back your words, do you?”

“No. If things stay like this, Eric will die in Odinger long before Lucilla pulls the sacred sword and is chosen as the hero—let alone becoming the Demon King. Preventing that is my mission, no matter what it takes.”

“Hmm…”

“It must be burdensome. Annoying, even. So let me ask—can you really keep bearing responsibility for someone as unstable and fragile as me?”

Frankly, it is burdensome. But that doesn’t mean I have even the slightest intention of backing down now.

“…I’ll stop it from happening. No matter how hard you try to save me, I’ll do everything in my power to save this world. That’s my duty—my choice.”

After reshaping the world as I pleased, running away alone is nothing but cowardice. I can’t do something so pathetic.

“And what if I stand in Eric’s way?”

“Then pray the other three don’t share your mindset. Luckily, at least one of them seems inclined to listen to me.”

“Lucilla, I assume. Yes, she definitely would… Heh.”

Cecilia let out a bitter laugh.

“Don’t you think this conversation is completely unlike the roles we’re supposed to play?”

“You’d change your mind if you knew. Don’t laugh it off like it’s nothing.”

Cecilia, too selfish to be called a saintess.

Me, too reckless to be believed as a prophet.

But precisely because our relationship is so twisted, I could trust her—enough to leave my back in her hands.

At least as long as my safety is guaranteed, she’ll fight for me.

“Assuming my safety is guaranteed, you’ll obey me and do everything you can to save others.”

“Yes. So please, do your best not to die. Otherwise… I may have to resort to more drastic measures.”

Instead of answering, I silently held out my hand.

“What’s this?”

“Let’s shake on it. A promise that we’ll both do our best from now on.”

“If that’s all, then gladly.”

Cecilia’s small hand gripped mine tightly—warm, unbearably so.

“Eric, no matter what choice you make this time, I will—”

“Shh. Don’t say it. This much is enough for now.”

“…You’re right. For now, this is enough. Sigh, I’ll probably get an earful from Eliya soon.”

“Then before that, I have something to ask. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Back then… if no rescue had come, what exactly were you planning to do to me?”

“Huh? Well, obviously, a kiss. I had to make sure you survived, no matter what.”

“Then why the hell were you taking your clothes off?”

“Do I really have to say it out loud?”

“Wait… did I really do something to deserve that kind of favor?”

“I’ll keep that a secret.”

Cecilia rose from the bed, lightly dusting off her clothes. With each flick, the fabric mended itself, stitches weaving back into place until her pristine nun’s habit was restored.

“You could’ve done that this whole time?!”

“Consider it my way of leaving an impression. Now, I’ll go get my scolding. You should rest, Eric.”

With that, Cecilia gracefully exited the room.

“Sigh…”

I couldn’t even muster the effort to cast a cleaning spell on the bed before collapsing onto it. Even if it was filthy, I’d slept in worse battlefields in previous loops. This was nothing.

Cecilia’s declaration. Chris’s reaction. Eliya’s response to this incident.

And the actions I’d have to take from now on.

There was too much to think about—but unfortunately, my body lacked the energy for it.

The moment I lay down, my eyes shut on their own.

———-

Thud.

Cecilia knelt.

“Anything to say?”

“Nothing. I assumed you’d figure as much the moment I came here.”

“How relieving that you understand that much. Saves me the trouble of lecturing you on your sins.”

“What happened to Christine?”

Cecilia glanced around as she spoke. The room Eliya had summoned her to held no one else—just the two of them.

Kneeling immediately upon entering now felt like a slight miscalculation.

She’d come ready to face the consequences, so why hadn’t Christine shown up?

“I’ve already spoken with her. And her punishment is none of your concern.”

“So?”

Despite kneeling, Cecilia’s demeanor remained utterly unbroken.

“How shameless.”

“Considering the reprimand and punishment you have in store for me, I’d say I’m being very patient, wouldn’t you?”

“Tch.”

Eliya clicked her tongue. In this moment, she was the arbiter—and Cecilia should have been nothing more than a sinner awaiting judgment in fear.

Yet Cecilia remained self-assured, as if she already knew what Eliya would say.

They knew each other too well for anything less.

“You are to cease all contact with Eric. Should he approach you privately, you will disclose everything. You will not arrange personal meetings with him. Any decisions must be approved by at least two of us. And all of this will be bound by oath. Satisfied?”

“Oh my?”

“What’s so surprising?”

“I expected you to cast me out entirely. Plenty would leap at the chance to be saintess.”

“And none of them would last a day drinking muddy water and eating monster flesh. Even if they knew, they wouldn’t endure it.”

Eliya spoke flatly.

“If even I, the emperor, was reduced to that state, do you think a saintess would fare any better? In the end, willing or not, you’re the only one. That’s why you dare act so shamelessly, knowing I wouldn’t discard you. Even after pushing me this far.”

“Pushing you? I merely dragged out the contradictions you’d buried. Isn’t it a bit much to blame me when you’re the one shackled by duty?”

“Your tongue’s grown sharper since crossing worlds. Or perhaps it was always this way? A saintess who digs into others’ weaknesses, pries them out, and shatters them.”

“That’s exactly a saintess’s duty. Otherwise, gathering devotees would be far harder. Unless you’re saying I lied?”

“What did you say to Eric?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. My position as saintess, my wealth, my body, my honor, my name—anything at all, if it means Eric survives. I don’t care what he thinks. I just want him safe.”

“I never wanted to say this to a comrade who fought alongside me, but it can’t be helped. You’re insane, Cecilia Rastall. Beyond any hope of saving.”

“Insane? Me?”

“Whether it was falling into that abyss or something earlier—I don’t know. But yes. You’re mad.”

Eliya spoke almost pityingly. But Cecilia remained unfazed, as if it hardly mattered.

“So, what will you do? Knowing I’ve lost my mind, yet aware that you—the emperor—intend to see this through with me anyway?”

“How tragic. I thought you at least would keep your sanity. Now, once you’re gone, only Lucilla will remain.”

“Huh?”

“Why so surprised? You said it yourself. To awaken to one’s desires.”

Cecilia, who’d sworn to do anything for Eric, had nothing left to fear.

Between Eliya, still bound by her duty as emperor, and herself—ready to discard even her role as saintess—there was an unbridgeable gap.

Eliya could never do the same.

Saintess and emperor: both pillars of the empire, yet fundamentally different.

A saintess hears the goddess’s voice and guides the people. A vital role, yes, and many are inspired by her piety. But faith persists even without her.

The fact that saintesses are only chosen in times of crisis proves this.

An emperor’s throne, however, has never been vacant.

With the weight of ruling a nation comes immense duty and privilege—something Eliya knows too well.

Yet for some reason, Cecilia sensed fear in her now.

Pity that even you have gone mad?

As if—