FSFSLU 15

Chapter 15

Everywhere the eye could see was hazy—the sewer city of Rettina. The so-called “Rat Hole” was always blanketed in thick fog, fog that could at any moment turn into smog.

The Rat Hole was a city built in a basin surrounded on all sides by mountains, where streams big and small from the mountains gathered into one river flowing through the city.

Because the mountains blocked air circulation, and because pollutants from mining were dumped into the river, the fog of the Rat Hole sometimes carried poison.

Thus, Rettina’s tuberculosis rate was over 30% higher than other regions, and its residents’ noses had long since been dulled by the stench.

That was why Bess and Killian grew suspicious.

“Why doesn’t that priest say anything about the smell?”

“Exactly. I’ve never seen an outsider who didn’t cover his nose.”

As Isabel and Tron walked ahead, Bess and Killian exchanged hushed words.

They couldn’t know that Isabel’s Blessing of Purification was of the highest level—so potent that it broke down even odor particles in the air before they entered her body.

Their doubts didn’t stop there.

“Seriously, what the hell? Why didn’t she notice she got hit?”

“She probably figured if she reacted, they’d kill her, so she pretended not to notice.”

“Does that look like smoke to you?”

“Well… maybe it’s not smoke, like you say. You don’t notice if a bug’s on your clothes either.”

“So to that priest, a club is no more than a bug?”

Meanwhile, Tron, walking beside Isabel and chatting lightly, was struggling to contain his anger.

“Those bastards! If they’re not going to help, they should at least shut the hell up! She can hear everything!”

Luckily, the priest seemed oblivious, too busy marveling at the alleys they passed. If she overheard, things would have gotten messy.

“This drawing is pretty!”

While Isabel’s attention was caught by some graffiti on a wall, Tron turned back and shot Bess and Killian a fierce glare.

The two quickly backed down. Within the Gerolters, there was no formal hierarchy between members aside from Gerolt himself, but Tron was still their senior in practice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just checking if they’re keeping up.”

“You get along really well!”

Tron quickly put on a soft smile. Isabel, curious, tapped her lips.

“So when can I meet the mayor?”

“Well, our mayor’s a busy man. Hard to meet him whenever you like… but if you go to city hall tomorrow, you should be able to. You can stay at our office tonight.”

“I’m sorry, but that won’t do!”

Smiling, Isabel rejected his offer without hesitation.

It wasn’t because she distrusted them. One of the rules of a Holy Vagabond was never to demand food or shelter from residents.

That rule existed to prevent priests from exploiting locals by flaunting their position, but Tron couldn’t have known Isabel’s refusal came from observing it.

“Damn it, then what…”

Tron thought hard. This woman was a fool, but she couldn’t be killed so easily. He’d planned to bring her to their office, poison her, or strike when her barrier dropped—but if she was wary already, how could he finish her off?

Gerolt had given orders to kill any priest who entered the Rat Hole on sight. They couldn’t just let her live long.

“Hey, Tron.”

Tron turned. It was Killian calling.

“What.”

“Since the priest is here anyway, why not take her to Liz? She’s out fighting slimes.”

“What the…”

Tron hesitated.

Then, realizing Killian’s intent, he relaxed his face and asked Isabel gently:

“Isabel, sorry to trouble you, but could you help us with a monster extermination before meeting the mayor?”

“Of course!”

“You hear the water nearby? That’s the river, called the Tames…”

Isabel nodded.

“Toxic slimes have been swarming downstream. Liz is holding the line, but no matter how many they kill, more keep coming.”

“Toxic slimes?”

“Yeah. Regular slimes would be fine, but these are bad. Residents downstream had to evacuate to tent camps. They built a temporary wall to hold them back, but the area’s huge. Could you help?”

For once, Tron agreed with Killian. If Isabel couldn’t be killed because of her barrier, they might as well use her. And if she spent her holy power on something else, maybe her barrier would drop.

“You don’t have to fight them yourself—just heal our Gerolters. The poison’s so nasty, potions cost a fortune. The spot is—”

“Leave it to me!”

Isabel cut him off.

“…What?”

Tron didn’t know, but Isabel’s eyes weren’t on him anymore.

[Quest has appeared.]

[Cast Blessing of Physical Enhancement on yourself and quickly move to the area infested with toxic slimes. (0/1)]

[Cast Blessing of Purification on the toxic slimes and the area. (0/1)]

[Reward upon completion: Results of 200 push-ups, 1-hour jogging, 10 minutes of sprinting.]

What appeared before Isabel wasn’t only the quest.

Blue glowing markers only she could see lit up the path and walls ahead, like the graffiti she’d admired earlier.

“Thank you as always for guiding me, Lord Sumiel!”

Tron panicked when Isabel suddenly smiled to herself.

“I-Isabel? What are you…”

“Just a moment. I need to cast a blessing.”

Gripping the Angelos Rod with both hands, Isabel closed her eyes.

A mystical radiance enveloped her body, forcing the others to squint.

The light vanished quickly, but Isabel’s physical ability had been transformed.

After a deep breath, she stretched energetically—then dashed off.

Whoosh—

“……”

It was instant.

So fast the smog was whipped into the wind, Isabel sped through the Rat Hole’s tangled alleys.

All three of them could only stare dumbly at the direction she vanished.

The smog soon slithered back into place, as if it had never been disturbed.

Moments later—

“F-Follow her!”

Tron roared and sprinted after her.

Bess and Killian, realizing the situation, followed.

A priest had entered the city. They had found her first.

If they let her run wild, Gerolt’s wrath would fall on them.

So they had no choice but to chase Isabel down.

“Damn, she runs well…”

Watching through the glass, I marveled.

Isabel was sprinting at an incredible pace. And that wasn’t just from her blessing.

She had decent stamina, but her athletic sense was terrible. I knew that better than anyone—I’d watched all of her first playthrough.

The reason she could now run several times faster than usual without tripping or crashing into walls… was because all the exercise I’d stacked up—through sleepless nights and skipped meals—had been transferred to her.

Those results didn’t live in her muscles or bones, but in her divine power, blending into her life more naturally than physical training ever could.

Even the fact she hadn’t tripped getting off the carriage—that was proof enough. Before, she’d have fallen flat at least twice.

“Worth the effort after all!”

I’d been worried, but things turned out perfectly.

We had to get away from those attempted murderers quickly, and now they themselves had given her the excuse to leave!

Joining a slime subjugation wasn’t suspicious at all.

And the name “Liz” they mentioned—I knew it well.

In the first playthrough, Liz was the only Gerolter member who could be called “good.”

Well, calling her pure good might be a stretch—she was still a criminal. But she respected life, more like a knight than a thug.

Still, she’d been brutally killed when she tried to stop Gerolt from drawing the Demon Sword. A memorable death.

But in this second playthrough, she was alive. Isabel had to meet her before the mayor.

And we couldn’t keep leaving Isabel with those bastards swinging clubs at her back.

“But Isabel… how did you not notice…?”

She was doing well now, so I wouldn’t scold her too much. But later, I’d have to tell her—without that barrier, Tron’s gang would’ve taken her down.

So for now, the goal was clear: exterminate the slimes and befriend Liz.

Yes, that was best.

“Haa…”

With slime goo dripping from the iron club resting on her shoulder, Liz touched the scar by her eye with a weary expression.

She wore a kerchief over her mouth to keep from inhaling the toxic slime fumes, but she couldn’t keep it from touching her scar.

The gas stung wherever it touched skin, but when it reached her scar, the pain was particularly vile.

It was right by her eye, so she couldn’t cover it. She had no choice but to endure.

Sighing, Liz turned her gaze to the next slime.

“Why the hell are there so many? Damn it.”

“Sis! More are coming over there!”

Though the Gerolters had no official hierarchy, some called Liz “sis” half as a tease.

But Jeremy, who shouted just now, meant it sincerely—he respected her.

Liz followed his finger. Black, dog-sized globs crawled toward them, some even as tall as children.

“How many in total?”

“Seven small, one medium.”

“So many again?”

“You said that already.”

Jeremy sighed, gripping his club. On the other side, more sounds of slimes being smashed rang out.

Liz also readied her club and was about to charge—

“Sis! Come here!”

Someone pounded on the wall behind them, shouting.

“What now! I’m busy!”

“An outsider’s here! Says she’ll help!”

“What?”

Liz snapped her head around. Ridiculous.

“Where from?”

“A priest from Tetina!”

“A priest? Here?”

“I came to volunteer!”

That voice wasn’t from a Gerolter.

It was a clear, refreshing female voice—a sound unheard among the smoke-scorched throats here.

Veins bulged on Liz’s forehead.

“Send her back!”

“Tron sent her here.”

“That bastard, why can’t he just—”

Muttering, Liz shouted: what exactly would the priest do?

“Sis, they’re almost here!”

“Damn it, no time. Fine! If you’re helping, get over here yourself!”

Then, a light thud on the wall.

A female priest perched atop it.

She held a long rod wrapped in cloth, her white robes glowing even in the smog.

Jeremy muttered something Liz didn’t hear. She only thought the priest might offer some simple healing.

But the priest grunted, perched on the wall—then chanted, raising her rod high.

Zwaaaang—

With a strange resonance, a radiant light burst through the cloth and spread outward.

Not just over their defensive line, but across the entire slime-infested area.

And then—

“Si-Sis… the slimes stopped moving!”

Jeremy’s trembling voice.

“I-I see it too.”

Liz, for the first time in ages, stammered.

They all saw it.

Not only had the slimes stopped, but the black, toxic ooze that leaked from their bodies vanished.

Not dispersed—simply shrank into a point and disappeared.

What remained were clear, harmless wild slimes, colorless and transparent.

After standing still like statues, they all turned and crawled away, retreating from humans.

Liz turned to the priest atop the wall.

“Wh-What are you?”

Liz was tall, broad. The wall, built only to keep slimes out, was low.

So Isabel, sitting on it, met her eyes directly.

“I’m Isabel. Nice to meet you!”

She smiled brightly, but Liz didn’t respond to her.

Instead, she shouted past the wall:

“Yan! Use detection magic, as wide as you can. How many toxic slimes left?”

“Uh, one sec…”

A moment later, a shocked voice:

“N-None. Not a single one!”

“None? You sure?”

“You know I put everything into detection magic.”

Liz’s eyes trembled. She jerked her head stiffly, like a wooden doll creaking.

Finally, she faced Isabel again.

She’d slogged like a dog for three months, with at least four more ahead. And this tiny priest had ended it in a moment.

From her unscarred left eye, a single tear fell.

“…Let’s wash.”

“Huh?”

Isabel tilted her head. But Liz wasn’t speaking to her.

She bellowed to Jeremy and the others beyond the wall:

“Wash up, bastards! The job’s done!”

“Done? Just like that?”

“Yan says so!”

“What?”

Cheers mixed with curses rang out. And Liz, eyes shining, grabbed Isabel by the waist and hoisted her up.

“This little priest finished it!”

Isabel blinked down in surprise at Liz, then just smiled awkwardly.

“Ehem!”

Her white robes got smeared with slime from Liz’s hands, but Isabel didn’t care.

Amid the rough, hoarse voices of dozens ruined by the Rat Hole’s air—

Voices now shouting a cacophonous cheer—

Isabel felt proud.

As if it had always been that way.