Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Long Time No See

The journey to Septimoa was comfortable.

...To be precise, it was comfortable for me.

All I did was sleep inside the carriage, wake up to eat, then fall asleep again.

In the evening, I'd stumble half-asleep into our lodging, eat dinner, and sleep some more.

Every so often, my bandages were changed and the old man treated me.

That was the entire routine.

It was such a lazy existence that I genuinely wondered whether this was okay.

‘No. Wait. I'm a patient right now.’

A patient's job is to eat well and rest.

So maybe I wasn't being lazy.

Maybe I was simply doing my absolute best as a patient?

Anyway, after repeating days of nothing but eating and sleeping like livestock being fattened in a pen, I finally recovered enough to walk around on my own.

More precisely, as my body gradually recovered from the weakness caused by demonic corruption, I became capable of resisting the curse left by the whip even without the old man's help.

...When I checked last night, the wounds had begun healing too.

At this rate, I could probably recover completely even without Clarice's help.

It would simply take a little longer.

Once I'd recovered to some extent, I spent more time sitting on the driver's bench than inside the carriage.

I wanted to walk or ride a horse, but after vigorous opposition from the old man, we compromised on letting me sit up front.

It was nothing more than sitting beside whoever was driving the carriage, but even that was a refreshing change of pace.

The knights took turns driving, and today Cassian was holding the reins.

I wasn't thrilled about sitting next to him, but my desire to escape the stuffy carriage outweighed my dislike of Cassian.

“Upsy-daisy...”

“Saintess, are you feeling any better?”

As I sat beside him, Cassian asked after my health.

...Well, back in the day I would've reacted with disgust and refused to answer, but by now we could exchange a few simple words.

Besides, I was going to be seeing his face until I got sick of it.

Constantly avoiding and hating him would only exhaust me.

Suspicion and hatred were both emotions that consumed a great deal of mental energy.

Maintaining them wasn't easy.

Especially when there was no fresh fuel to keep those emotions burning.

Lately, Cassian hadn't done anything suspicious at all.

If anything, he'd shown nothing but almost foolish sincerity.

The only real flaw I could point to was that he was weak as hell.

So I decided I'd settle for keeping one tiny ember of suspicion alive in my heart, ready to flare up whenever necessary.

“The old man's been treating me like his life depends on it, so I'm much better. He's still way too overprotective, though. Seriously, he won't even let me walk.”

I muttered with a faint sigh.

Of course, that overprotectiveness and constant treatment were the reason I'd recovered so visibly.

But suffocating was still suffocating.

“At this rate, I might actually get weaker.”

A musician once said:

If I skip practice for one day, I notice.

Two days, and the critics notice.

Three days, and the audience notices.

I've been forced to take more and more days off lately.

What if my skills actually start declining?

“Come on, Sis~ You really think resting this little is going to make you weaker?”

Leonid immediately picked a fight after hearing my complaint.

“...Why are you suddenly starting shit? What are you going to do once I'm better?”

I looked down at Leonid, who was walking beside the carriage, with an incredulous expression.

But rather than shrinking back, he looked needlessly confident.

“Isn't it true? You defeated a legion commander single-handedly. Even if you searched the Holy Empire's history books, there wouldn't be many people with an achievement like that.”

You think someone like you is going to get weaker from resting a little?

And threatening me isn't scary anymore.

The moment Lady Clarice finishes healing you, you'll say you're checking your condition and beat me up first anyway, won't you?

Leonid rattled off his complaints.

Well... he was right.

But why did he fail to understand that saying it aloud would only earn him an extra beating?

Anyway, I ignored Leonid and looked at the road ahead.

We were currently traveling along the Ferero Highway.

Ferero was a city less than half a day's journey from Septimoa.

We'd already been following this highway for a while, so we should reach Septimoa soon.

“Come to think of it, how many days until the Council? We aren't late, are we?”

My sense of time had gotten fuzzy after spending so many days half-asleep.

“No. We left with so much time to spare that we'll arrive with enough time to sleep one night and still have another full day before the Council opens.”

“Why make ‘two days’ sound so complicated?”

Apparently we'd started with so much leeway that even after all the delays, we'd arrive two days early.

Plenty of time for Clarice to heal me and let me recover.

“Saintess, may I ask what Septimoa is like?”

While we quietly watched the scenery, Cassian suddenly asked me a question.

“Weren't you a mercenary? You've never been to Septimoa?”

I didn't know much about the habits of mercenaries, but didn't they travel from place to place taking jobs?

If he'd worked as a mercenary in the Holy Empire, I'd assumed he would've visited Septimoa at least once.

“Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity.”

“Well, it's beautiful and impressive. Look ahead. You can start seeing it now.”

I pointed toward the distant shape of a white giant lying against an enormous mountain range.

Cassian followed my finger with his gaze.

“You mean that?”

“Yeah. It's still far away, so you can't see it clearly, but those are the white outer walls. They protect Septimoa.”

“...Even from this distance, they have an incredible presence.”

“You'll be even more impressed up close.”

Honestly, I was shocked the first time I saw them too.

Even with sacred arts and magic existing in this world, could people really build something like that in a medieval era?

That was what I'd thought.

“Septimoa isn't just beautiful. It's also a natural fortress.”

“A natural fortress? In what way?”

He looked interested.

The fact that ‘natural fortress’ caught his attention more than ‘beautiful’ actually pleased me.

A Hero should be more interested in combat advantages than pretty scenery.

“You'll understand once we get closer. No explanation beats seeing it yourself.”

With that, our conversation ended again.

We continued along the highway, and before long, we reached the outskirts of Septimoa.

“Whoa...?”

Beside me, Cassian swallowed an exclamation as he drove the carriage.

Seeing the man who usually wore such a serious expression looking completely dumbfounded was weirdly funny, and laughter kept leaking out of me.

Septimoa, capital of Sectia—the only empire on the Lorencia Continent—was nearly unrivaled both as a center of trade and as a center of culture.

And as I'd said earlier, it was famous both for its beautiful appearance and as an impregnable fortress that could never be breached.

The rugged Balark Mountain Range stood behind it, while sheer cliffs dropped away in front.

There were only two ways into Septimoa.

Cross the Emerald Ridge, the bridge connecting the cliffs to the city, or climb over the Balark Mountains.

The Balark Mountains were so treacherous and guarded by elven rangers that breaking through them was practically impossible.

Emerald Ridge was wide enough for ordinary traffic, but too narrow for a large army to advance freely.

And inside Septimoa were sufficient water sources and food production facilities to make the city largely self-sufficient.

Even if surrounded and completely cut off from outside supplies, it could withstand a siege for years.

In the most literal sense, it was a fortress blessed by nature.

“It doesn't look like scenery from this world.”

“Impressive, right? A capital of the Holy Empire ought to be at least this grand.”

The city itself was magnificent, but simply looking at the mystical terrain nature had created was a pleasure.

The first time I'd come here, I'd spent ages staring at the view without even noticing the time passing.

Most people seeing Septimoa for the first time reacted similarly.

Cassian was probably the same...

Hm?

Why is this bastard sweating so much?

And why are his hands trembling around the reins?

“Hey.”

“...Yes, Saintess.”

His answer confirmed my suspicion.

This bastard was trembling.

“Pfft. Are you afraid of heights? Scared?”

“...No.”

“Your hands are shaking. What do you mean, no?”

What a funny bastard.

He was clearly trying to hide it, but ever since we entered the bridge, Cassian's voice and body had been trembling faintly.

Well, considering the bottom was a sheer drop into an abyss, I suppose being nervous was understandable.

But this guy's a Hero candidate.

If heights alone make him tremble, his courage must be tiny.

At this rate, the only thing worth praising about him is his face.

And a handsome face isn't exactly a necessary qualification for a Hero.

He's not some host trying to charm women.

...I should probably straighten him out in the training grounds later.

With that thought, I looked toward the city gate drawing steadily closer.

Unless the city was at war, the gates were always left open for travelers, so all we needed was a simple identity check.

“...Ah, right.”

Something I'd completely forgotten amid all the chaos suddenly came to mind.

Everyone else had attended the Council at least once, so there was no need to warn them.

But Eric and Cassian needed to know something.

Being the capital, Septimoa came with many things to keep in mind.

But what I wanted to warn them about were variables.

Five extremely dangerous...

Variables that were practically guaranteed constants.

“Eric, come over here.”

I beckoned Eric toward the carriage.

“Cassian, Eric. There's something you two need to know.”

“What is it?”

I deliberately put on a grave and serious expression.

Their faces immediately became serious too.

Before getting to the point, I frowned and rubbed my temples.

I already felt awful, and merely imagining meeting those women made my headache worse.

“Huu... The Saintesses of all the other Orders will probably gather for this Council.”

Saintesses weren't required to attend the Council of the Seven Holy Seats.

Yet strangely, all seven Orders' Saintesses gathered every single time.

They'd all shown up every year so far.

This year probably wouldn't be any different.

“Do you mean you want us to be especially respectful toward the Saintesses of the other Orders?”

“...No. That's not the issue.”

I let out a faint sigh.

Explaining every detail would only make my head hurt.

I'd just tell them how to respond.

“If something that looks like a Saintess approaches and tries talking to you, forget about manners and leave immediately. If she later starts complaining about etiquette, use my name.”

Because aside from me, not one of those women is remotely sane.

Cassian had only just become our Hero candidate, and Eric was a rookie.

To those women, they'd definitely look like perfect toys to mess with.

I needed to keep them from making contact somehow.

If poor Eric got caught by them, well... I could probably shrug and say, ‘Can't be helped. Every Holy Knight has to experience it once.’

But if one of the other Saintesses poked around Cassian without knowing whether he'd gone bad or spoiled inside and ended up with food poisoning, we'd be the ones in trouble.

So for everyone's sake, it was better to keep these two as far away from the other Saintesses as possible.

For their sake.

And for those damned Saintesses' sake.

“May I ask why?”

Cassian asked with a serious expression.

Damn it.

Can't you just say ‘understood’ when your superior gives an order?

Why add footnotes?

Still, I probably should explain.

If I didn't, curiosity might drive them into some bizarre situation anyway.

Hmm...

But how exactly do I explain this?

It was strangely difficult to put into words.

Ah, screw it.

I'll just state the facts plainly.

“Because every Saintess except me is defective somehow. Nothing good will come from getting involved with them.”

“?”

“?”

Eric and Cassian made the exact same expression.

They weren't twins or some alien species linked by a hive mind, yet their faces were identical.

Their expressions practically screamed, ‘Saintess, are you really qualified to say that?’

“Do you two seriously want to die?”

When I growled and raised my fist, they hurriedly avoided my gaze.

Instead of coming crying to me later, why don't you just listen now?

Seriously.

“...My apologies. I will do as you say, Saintess.”

“Don't just say it. Burn it into your memory. It'll be too late once you've met them and regret— Ah, fuck.”

Midway through my warning, I noticed a carriage standing in front of the Third Ward's main gate, and a curse escaped me instinctively.

Because the emblem carved into it was painfully familiar.

A laurel wreath and an owl.

That symbol belonged to the Order serving the Goddess of Wisdom and Victory, one of the three Orders guarding the front line alongside Justitia and us.

The Nike Order.

“...Hey, everyone. Don't even look over there. And Cassian?”

“...Yes?”

“Slow down naturally and stop. We don't go in until that carriage disappears.”

“...That carriage? Judging from the emblem, isn't it the Nike Order?”

“Yeah, exactly, so hurry up and keep your distance.”

Cassian tilted his head, but followed my instructions.

He gradually slowed the carriage until it came to a stop.

“...Think they noticed us?”

Leonid, now staring nervously toward the Nike carriage beside me, spoke in a trembling voice.

The other Holy Knights looked equally tense.

Only Eric and Cassian wore bewildered expressions wondering what the hell was wrong with everyone.

And then...

THUD-

The carriage rocked with a heavy impact.

The startled horses neighed and snorted.

“Hi, Trixie. Long time no see.”

“...Haa. Fucking hell.”

Hearing the familiar voice behind my head, I covered my forehead.

When I turned around, a woman was already sitting on the roof of our carriage, casually swinging her legs.

Green hair.

Jade-colored eyes.

Long ears protruding sharply through her hair.

A beautiful elf.

“Justitia arrived first, then us, and now you Eris people are third.”

Ah, shut up.

I already knew exactly what this crazy elf was about to say, and my head was starting to throb.

This woman—this elf—was Elysia, Saintess of the Nike Order.

“Want to bet with big sis on which Order arrives last?”

A gambling-addicted lunatic.