FSFSLU 16

Chapter 16

Once, the river Thames had been the lifeline of the Rat’s Nest.

Its tributaries flowed down from the mountains, converging into a single stream before branching off again into dozens of channels that spread throughout the city. The Thames was like the capillaries filling every corner of the Rat’s Nest’s lungs.

But with the piles of garbage, oil, and pollutants, the Thames became corrupted. Its waters turned into murky blood, plunging the entire city into a chronic lung disease.

So, it wasn’t all that strange for contaminated slimes to appear there.

Slimes were monsters born when mana in the air clumped together into a core, and that core took liquid as its body. Just by crawling, they constantly lost the material that made them up.

Because of that, slimes had a habit of flocking to and taking over places where they could replenish their own substances.

The slimes that absorbed the polluted waters of the Thames had taken over the lower residential districts of the Rat’s Nest simply because they needed more of the contaminants that made up their bodies.

The only way to destroy them was through brute force, scattering the mana core within. Even then, slimes were troublesome monsters to deal with, as they would spray toxic fluid in all directions when they died.

Liz knew this better than anyone, and so she understood just how impossible Isabel’s feat had been.

“How the hell did you do it?”

Loud bangs rang out all around them, forcing Liz to shout.

It was the sound of the other Gerolters smashing down the slime-blocking wall with sledgehammers.

“I purified them!”

At Isabel’s cheerful cry, Liz pressed her hand against her forehead.

“Who doesn’t know that? I’m asking how you purified so many! The priest who came before you only managed to cleanse two before they got polluted again. It was useless!”

She’d thought the only way was to destroy every slime’s core. A task that should have taken months—maybe even years.

Yet Isabel had solved it all in an instant, all by herself. Not only the slimes but even the toxic air and soil had been purified—something Liz had never heard of in her life.

Of course, the air quickly mixed back with smog and became murky again, but at least for a moment they could breathe clean air.

“Be honest with me, Priestess. What are you really? You’re not some ordinary priest, are you?”

Liz asked firmly, her imposing size and presence making the question all the more weighty.

Isabel wasn’t particularly frightened, but she struggled with how to answer.

The truth was that her power came from being a saint marked by the stigmata. But Smiel had warned her countless times never to reveal it.

So, instead of answering, Isabel just gave a sheepish grin.

Liz looked down at her for a while, then chuckled too.

“Well, who cares. What matters is…”

She turned and shouted at the Gerolters hammering the wall.

“Hey, leave that for later! We’re going to wash up first!”

“If sis says so, we gotta go!”

“Yeah, let’s go!”

The stained and filthy men roared cheerfully, then charged off together along the river upstream.

Liz was about to follow when she grabbed Isabel’s hand.

She froze. Isabel’s body was so light.

After a brief pause, Liz simply hoisted Isabel up under her arm and dashed forward.

“W-whoa!”

“Tell me if you can’t breathe, Priestess!”

“Where are we going?”

“Bathhouse!”

“Why?”

“Because we finished the job, so we wash up! Don’t worry—it’s free!”

Meanwhile, Tron, Beth, and Killian, who had been chasing after Isabel, suddenly came face to face with the Gerolters running toward them with sledgehammers.

Thinking they were off to collect payments, Tron stopped the man at the front.

“Jeremy! Where the hell are you all going?”

“To wash up!”

“Wash up? You mean after finishing the slimes? Where’s Liz?”

Jeremy’s eyes turned hostile at the slight against Liz. He yanked his arm away from Tron and shouted:

“You rude bastard! Go see for yourself!”

Tron was left speechless as Jeremy glared and ran past with the others.

That alone was confusing enough, but then—

“Ah, Tron!”

“What the hell—why’s the priest calling him like that?”

It was Liz, looking happier than ever, with Isabel dangling from her side like a child’s toy.

As they ran past, Liz shouted cheerfully:

“Yo, keep up the good work!”

“See you later, Tron!” Isabel called out, swinging up and down with every heavy step Liz took.

Tron stared after them, dumbfounded, until Beth and Killian came panting from downstream.

“Tron! It’s true—the slime hunt is over! The wall’s broken down, and there are no slimes left!”

“What…?”

Tron looked for himself.

It was true. Not a single slime remained. Even the foul pollutants had been cleansed away.

He realized his mistake.

He’d sent Isabel on the slime hunt just to wear her down, since her protective barrier had made it impossible to carry out his robberies.

Instead, she had just done everyone a huge favor.

Tron knew Liz well. She wasn’t the kind of person to kill someone who had saved her life.

She’d surely start insisting they owed Isabel, maybe even try to help her set up her relief shelter.

If that shelter is built, I won’t be able to collect from the residents or sell medicine. Liz doesn’t care since she doesn’t collect dues anyway, but…

Tron ground his teeth. The other Gerolters didn’t care about morals—they just wanted comfort. But Liz had an odd obsession with drawing a line she refused to cross.

Every time she held back, Tron was the one who had to carry the burden. Did she even realize that?

A sharp sound grated between his clenched teeth.

Well, whatever.

If Liz was going to do as she pleased, then so would he.

That was how they had always survived in the Rat’s Nest.

Many people make one big mistake.

They assume the Rat’s Nest is a poor city.

But that was wrong. The mining industry, its main source of income, was unmatched across the continent.

The problem was simply that most of its wealth was monopolized by Gerolt and his men.

That was why the civilian districts were so run-down, while the Gerolters’ homes and facilities were as luxurious as any in a great city like Sestina.

In particular, the Gerolters’ office bathhouse—equipped with advanced purification and plumbing powered by magic devices—was a point of pride in the Rat’s Nest.

Considering that Liz even paid the hefty 50 Sonac entrance fee and dragged Isabel there herself, she had expected the priestess to be thrilled.

“I don’t want to!”

But Liz ran headfirst into Isabel’s stubborn refusal.

“You’re not a kid, so why don’t you want to wash? Come on!”

“I said no! You go first!”

Liz barked sharply, but Isabel only craned her neck up to meet her eyes without flinching.

At first, Liz had tried to coax her nicely. But now, her patience was running thin.

“What, this place not good enough for you? Too used to fancy baths back home?”

“I’ll be fine without washing! You go ahead!”

“You’ll catch something and die!”

“I already purified myself!”

Liz felt like pounding her chest in frustration. Why was the girl being so stubborn?

“Isabel, you crawled through a tunnel to get here! You’re covered in dust! At least for that, you need a bath!”

“You go ahead! I’ll wash separately!”

No matter how she argued, Isabel wouldn’t budge.

Liz couldn’t understand it. She’d thought a priestess raised in a clean church would be crazy about bathing, not resisting it like this. It wasn’t even shyness.

Then Liz froze, a suspicion dawning.

“You don’t… think I’m a man, do you?”

Liz was often mistaken for one, thanks to her broad shoulders and towering build. But Isabel shot back proudly:

“Do you take me for an idiot?”

Liz was exasperated.

“If you’re not an idiot, then hurry up and wash! I feel gross as hell!”

“Sorry, but I can’t!”

In truth, Isabel had a reason.

[Hide the stigmata on your back from Liz. (0/1)]

Right now, a cross-shaped mark burned on her back.

From the day she’d first met Smiel until now, he had always told her: Never reveal that you are a regressor, never reveal your stigmata.

With demon army spies hidden who-knew-where across the continent, it was far too dangerous to reveal such a thing, even to Liz—who, in Isabel’s first life, had been an ally.

“While you wash, I’ll stand guard! Like a gatekeeper, so nobody comes in!”

“What idiot would barge in while I’m washing? It’s the women’s bath.”

“A crazy woman could come in!”

“You just say whatever comes to mind, don’t you?”

Liz didn’t want to give in either.

Isabel’s priest robes were already stained from being lifted by slime-covered hands. Liz couldn’t stand the thought of her not cleaning off.

And above all—

Liz wanted to send Isabel back to Tettina safe and sound.

Even without knowing much theology, she could tell Isabel’s miracle had been extraordinary. She wanted her to return unscathed, not like this.

So she kept insisting Isabel wash.

“Fine then. I’ll wash first. Once I’m out, you go in.”

“Why don’t you want to bathe with me so badly?”

Liz’s question made Isabel hesitate.

“Because… you’re Gerolt’s subordinate?”

Her careless words struck Liz like a dagger.

“……!”

To Isabel, it was just a logical assumption—that Gerolt hated priests, so his subordinates must too.

But for Liz, who despised Gerolt’s crimes yet still lived as one of his men, the words hurt deeply.

“You… knew all along?”

“Knew what?”

“About Gerolt.”

“I know he’s bad! He robs residents, loots, ignores the pollution, and kills people!”

Isabel ticked them off on her fingers, one by one, while Liz’s thoughts tangled.

How could she know? Outsiders don’t even know Gerolt’s name… unless Smiel told her.

That Isabel came here knowing all that was shocking enough.

So this priestess knew the danger, and still came to set up a relief shelter… Then no matter what I do, she won’t turn back…

Liz felt ashamed.

While Isabel selflessly tried to help others, Liz had been closing her eyes to her own crimes under Gerolt. Even the luxury of this bathhouse came from abetting his evil.

And in that moment, something stirred in her heart.

For the first time in so long—

The will to do good.

“You came here to volunteer, didn’t you?”

“Yes! I’m going to open a shelter!”

“You’ll meet the mayor, then?”

“Yes!”

Liz took a deep breath.

“To meet him, you need to wash. You can’t go like this.”

“Tron said I can’t meet him today!”

“That’s a lie. Tron’s a liar.”

Isabel’s shocked expression made Liz chuckle inwardly.

“Once you’re done washing, I’ll take you to him myself. So come on, wash.”

She’d seen many priests come, ignorant of the dangers. Most ended up as Gerolt’s victims, chased out or killed brutally.

Liz couldn’t let Isabel—her benefactor—end the same way.

For once, she wanted to truly help.

“So strip already! We’ve got a shelter to build!”

Isabel looked conflicted.

Even she could tell Liz genuinely wanted to help.

But if she bathed together, Liz might see the stigmata on her back.

She had to avoid that.

Yet she couldn’t lie.

Then suddenly—

“Ah!”

Isabel thought of a way. A method only she could think of—and carry out.

“….”

“What is it?”

“No, it’s just… I can’t believe you actually did that.”

Even after Isabel’s purification, slime residue still clung to the skin. Liz scrubbed herself raw, glancing constantly at Isabel.

She couldn’t help but notice.

“Do you really have to do that?”

“I’m fine! Is it bothering you?”

“Not bothering… just… blinding.”

For Isabel was glowing—radiating holy light all over her body, hiding the stigmata from sight.

“Want me to dim it a little?”

Her voice was almost gleeful. She was proud to have solved the problem on her own instead of relying on Smiel’s quest.

“No, it’s fine…”

Liz had thought she’d only shine while scrubbing. But even after they entered the bath, Isabel continued glowing.

Unable to look straight at her, Liz turned away, leaning on her arm against the wall.

“This is why I told you to go in first.”

“……At least tell me why. Why do that?”

“It’s a habit! I always turn on the light when I bathe.”

“Do priests normally do that?”

“Just me!”

“….”

Maybe Isabel wasn’t amazing after all, Liz thought. Maybe she was just a crazy priest.

Mayor Thompson of Rettina looked utterly exhausted.

“An outsider came and wiped out all the slimes…?”

“Yes, that’s the report,” his secretary replied.

Thompson let out a long sigh.

“And this outsider is now…?”

“Bathing.”

“The slimes I prepared… I thought they’d at least last two more months…”

It was fortunate the outsider had survived entry, but for them to do that?

The wrinkles on Thompson’s forehead deepened even further.