episode_0116

Beside Arina, whom she faced with just a turn of her head, hovered the demonic energy that had until moments ago resided within her own body.

Her limbs were bound by iron chains, leaving her unable to move properly. Though they were ordinary chains with no magical reinforcement—chains she could break with holy power if she tried—the enemy before her would pierce her skull with a spell faster than she could free herself.

But from the very beginning, Marika had no intention of breaking the chains.

Finally, it’s over.

It wasn’t quite resignation. More than that, Marika felt an odd sense of peace as she gazed at the ceiling and spoke.

“Now I understand what I did wrong. I’m the kind of woman who wouldn’t feel satisfied even if you killed me, aren’t I? After all, I repaid your kindness with betrayal. It’s only natural you’d want revenge.”

No matter what Arina did to her, Marika was ready to accept it. Even if she hadn’t been in her right mind, the sins she committed were far too grave.

If she were to claim innocence—that it wasn’t truly her will—then who would answer for the humiliation Arina had suffered? At the very least, the last thing she could do for her childhood friend was to utterly collapse under her hand.

It didn’t matter if others wouldn’t do the same. She, who owed an insurmountable debt, had no other choice.

“I know something like this won’t heal the wounds I caused. Still… since even the power of a saintess can’t mend the heart… if this helps ease your anger even a little, then do it.”

She closed her eyes. Would it be a swift death, or drawn-out suffering? Given Arina’s temperament, she expected the former, but…

“Don’t decide things on your own. I only bound you because I wasn’t sure if you were in your right mind.”

Arina unlocked the chains restraining Marika.

“I want to hear your story first. What happened to you all. The decision comes after.”

That her former comrades had been mentally influenced by the Packhorse was now an undeniable truth. But calling it mere mind control—a complete theft of their will—left an uncomfortable aftertaste.

They had acted on personal desires, expressed genuine resentment, and each opposed Arina for their own reasons.

They never seemed like mere puppets dancing on the strings of a single man.

Were they innocent victims or betrayers who had merely been pushed along? This distinction was crucial in judging them.

“So that’s where we start. Well, it makes sense—Riel never experienced it firsthand, so she wouldn’t know.”

“That’s the strange part. Why didn’t that bastard use his ability on me? If his power was absolute mind control, I wouldn’t have been able to escape him.”

“Right. The Packhorse’s ability isn’t some absolute hypnosis. It’s hard to describe, but… think of it as a twist in thought.”

The vague explanation made Arina frown. Marika had expected this, so she elaborated.

“Seeing that confused look on your face feels oddly nostalgic. I haven’t seen it since we were kids.”

“If you explain it like that, of course I won’t get it. So?”

“I’m just describing my personal experience, so don’t jump to conclusions. It’s like… an ability that makes you endlessly fond of him. No matter what he does or orders, you want to obey. But betraying you, Riel? That was unthinkable for us. When those two things clashed, the twist happened.”

The Packhorse’s ability didn’t steal their will—it merely fostered goodwill toward him. When that goodwill clashed with their existing rationality, his power rerouted their reasoning.

The result? The party members convinced themselves that all problems would be solved if Arina became the Packhorse’s wife.

They genuinely, thoroughly believed that enslaving her to the man who had ruined her life was the best solution—even dismissing her own will entirely.

Looking back, Marika now recognized how cruel that had been. But at the time? It felt perfectly natural.

“As for why it didn’t work on you… I think it’s because of your hatred for him. His influence couldn’t penetrate a heart already filled with loathing.”

A plausible theory. The Packhorse himself had spoken negatively of his own ability, implying it wasn’t as convenient as Marika had assumed.

“One less thing to worry about. That bastard wouldn’t have combat abilities either. The only remaining problem is Yuria, then.”

“Don’t be so quick to assume. I don’t know if what I know is everything.”

“Hmm. Speaking of… you were under his control before, right? So why did you snap out of it? And why cut ties with him now?”

“About him… honestly, it’s complicated. He’s the father of my child, and up until we got together, it was my choice. And as a lover… he wasn’t a bad person. But—that doesn’t mean forgive what he did to you, Riel! I could never condone that either. Please… don’t misunderstand me.”

Marika’s hesitation was frustrating, but understandable. A man she had married and raised a child with—whose marriage had been full of good memories—wasn’t someone she could suddenly hate, even knowing what he had done.

Watching for Arina’s reaction, Marika cautiously continued.

“As for why the influence wore off… I’m sure it was because of that spell you used back then. The one that covered the entire holy sky.”

“Dark Moon?”

“Yes. When our holy power vanished and the connection to the goddess was severed, I felt the mental interference gradually weaken. If Leo and Erwin hadn’t broken free… it was only because there wasn’t enough time. And that means—”

Marika hesitated mid-sentence, as if the next words were stuck in her throat. Arina, realizing what she meant, spoke instead—uttering words a priestess should never say aloud.

“The Packhorse’s ability is a gift from the goddess. Meaning… my becoming his woman was her will.”

A blasphemous conclusion. Yet, unable to deny it, Marika nodded reluctantly.

“…Leon once told me not to defy fate. Hah… turns out she wasn’t wrong. How cruel.”

A heavy sigh filled the cramped room. Unable to offer any comfort, Marika quietly bowed her head.

Silence settled like a suffocating veil. The pain was unbearable—so much so that Arina wanted to scream.

Why? What crime did I commit to deserve this?

To have everything stolen from her, then be forced to offer even her body to the man who ruined her—was this fate? Was this the Goddess’s will?

“I’m sorry.”

“For… what?”

“Just… as someone who serves Her…”

Marika was crumbling too. She couldn’t comprehend that the Goddess she had devoted herself to would orchestrate something this cruel to her childhood friend.

She clung to her fragile faith, yet doubted whether it should survive.

Arina couldn’t find it in herself to be angry at Marika, who was suffering even more than she was. The Goddess’s will meant nothing now. Her path was already decided.

Calmly, she continued.

“Marika. I’m going to kill the Packhorse.”

This was non-negotiable. Now that she knew her suffering had been ordained, she wouldn’t let him live another day.

“You have two choices. Protect that trash—your child’s father—fight me, and die alongside him. Or… tell me where he is.”

“……”

“Even if you shield him… I won’t resent you personally. I understand the desire to protect someone you love.”

Even if Iain became the worst criminal in existence, Arina would stand by him. Not just because he had done the same for her—but because this was love.

This feeling that living without him was impossible—it wasn’t something reason could suppress.

“…Someone you love?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t know. I was asleep all this time, right? I got married.”

“Married? To who? Not Yuria?”

“No, someone you don’t know. Iain Felix—my husband now. Hard to imagine, huh? A former man marrying another man. But I came to accept it. Honestly, I’m glad things turned out this way. I’m… truly happy.”

“Riel….”

For the first time, Marika’s perpetually composed voice trembled. Arina’s gentler demeanor, her changed appearance, her words—everything pointed to one thing.

“I might not have the right to blame you all. In the end… I’ too chose Iain over Riel.”

Ominous premonitions always come true. Desperate to stop her, Marika interrupted.

“Riel, wait—”

“I didn’t choose Riel. I chose to live as Arina. Roots may be the same… but our branches grew too far apart. There’s no going back to how things were.”

“Just—give me time to think! Just a little—”

Marika already knew where this was going. She had to stop her.

But Arina showed no mercy. Ruthlessly, she delivered the final verdict.

“So, Marika. I won’t hate you anymore—nor any of you, Riel Frost’s former comrades.”

Not forgiveness. Severance.

Arina had drawn a line—separating herself from Riel Frost. Abandoning her past meant casting aside grudges, yes—but also every bond she had once cherished.

To Arina, the hero’s party were nothing more than fellow victims. Without any personal involvement, her mind was made up.

There was no reconciling now. She didn’t want apologies. She had no intention of lingering in the past any longer.

And that terrified Marika more than anything else.

Because Arina—no, Riel—had been the person she loved most in this world. Even if their paths could never meet again… she didn’t want to lose her.

Tears streaming down her face, Marika grasped Arina’s hand like a drowning woman clinging to driftwood.

“If you truly mean that… then let’s start over.”

A new bond.

“Even if just as friends…”

Let me stay by your side.

Like soothing a tantrum-throwing child, Arina gently clasped Marika’s hand in return.

Back then, whenever Marika cried, Riel always gave in—because even if they were the same age, he saw himself as her big brother.

But Arina wasn’t Riel.

The warmth of her touch felt icy to Marika. Because she knew—this warmth would be the last she ever felt.

“You already know the answer.”

“Hic—… S-Sob! Then—then just kill me… If I can’t have anything else… let it at least be by your hand—”

This life—

“Don’t be childish, Marika.”

Even this final plea was coldly rejected.

“I’m not Riel, your childhood friend. I’m Arina. No matter what you expect… I won’t give it to you.”

That was the trigger.

The dam broke—tears she had been choking back spilled over.

“And whether you wanted it or not… remember that you’re a mother now. Don’t throw your life away so thoughtlessly.”

Eventually, the crying inside subsided. Not long after, Arina stepped outside.

The conversation hadn’t been pleasant—given their history, it couldn’t have been.

Iain studied his wife carefully, checking for any unseen wounds.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course. I’ve already made peace with everything—what’s there not to be okay about?”

Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled.

She wasn’t invincible. Iain, who knew this better than anyone, pulled her into his embrace.

They held each other for moments that stretched far too long before Millen finally spoke in a hushed tone.

“Well?”

“……Yeah.”

“Did you get his location?”

“…Yes.”