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chapter 45
“No, are you thinking of working even after doing that?”
Yuga said to me in disbelief. And indeed, I was completely exhausted.
The training Yuga imposed was so grueling that it made me forget this was a conceptual space. Yet, even after finishing it and finally having a brief rest, I found myself sending a quest to Isabel through the glass window.
I had initially thought of just passing through Castletina, but as Denk had mentioned, if it was currently the Golem Defense Period, this actually worked out well.
Erica, an elf positioned as the archer in the hero party, unlike other elves who spent their lives in the Elf Forest, had left the forest on her own and lived as an adventurer. Thanks to that, she became the sole survivor of the Elf Genocide Incident.
As an adventurer, Erica regularly participated in the Golem Defense of Castletina. Since it was Year 892 of the Great God Power, one year before the Demon King’s revival, there was a high possibility Erica would participate in this defense.
Even if not, the Golem Defense attracted adventurers from all over the country, so it might be possible to locate Erica—or, if lucky, to hear news of another hero party member, Kaizo.
While giving Isabel the quest, I didn’t relay these speculations to her. Yet instead of waiting for my explanation, Isabel immediately told Liz and Denk to head straight to Castletina.
Is it because Isabel follows the will of gods or angels unquestioningly, or is it simply because she’s a priestess?
“You were planning everything in your head even while following my training?”
“Not exactly. Usually, I improvise based on the information I have.”
“You angels have it tough too. Let’s take a break now, then.”
“A break?”
Yuga flicked her long hair back arrogantly and lay on the bed in the prison.
“How inconvenient. Don’t you realize you’re in training right now? You’re going to argue when I say we should rest?”
“Uh… I just thought if it were you, you wouldn’t rest and would make things worse.”
“What do you take me for?”
“Well… a demonic sword, I guess.”
“Even though I’m a demonic sword, I have my own sense of aesthetics. What couldn’t I do for that?”
Her words sparked a curiosity in me.
“Yuga.”
“Why do you keep calling me when I said I’d rest?”
“……”
“……That was a bit rude. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Yuga got up from the bed and met my gaze through the bars.
“Why did you call me?”
“Is reviving the Demon King also part of your aesthetics?”
At my words, a black-and-purple aura flared briefly around Yuga.
Of course, since she couldn’t interfere with me or this space, nothing dangerous happened.
Still, it seemed like my words had struck something inside her.
“Why are you asking that?”
I stared at her silently for a moment.
Her eyes were defiant. No, that wasn’t quite right. Let me correct that.
Her eyes were combative.
It was as if she was saying: “I want to make you pay for saying that,” yet at the same time, acknowledging that her current situation wouldn’t allow it, and instead, she would settle for remaining unbroken.
“Is the Demon King really that important to you? Have you even met him?”
“……”
In the Long Story, the demonic sword was created after the death of the Demon King. The Demon King had tainted the holy sword upon dying, which led to the creation of the demonic sword.
Therefore, unlike Patrick or other generals who were enthralled by the Demon King’s cocoon, Yuga would have no personal attachment to the Demon King. She had never met him, never even come in contact with him.
Yet, in the first run, Yuga corrupted Dyke and elevated him to a general, becoming the primary contributor to the Demon King’s revival.
I couldn’t understand it.
We had spent enough time together in this unique space to observe each other. During that time, I hadn’t seen any reason behind Yuga’s stubborn insistence on reviving the Demon King.
“I don’t know why you’re trying to revive the Demon King.”
“Take a guess, Angel.”
“I can’t even guess. Even if the Demon King is revived, it won’t benefit you in any meaningful way.”
“You speak as if you’ve seen it yourself.”
I had seen it. Even after Dyke’s death in the first run, the Demon King hadn’t said a word about the demonic sword. Perhaps it wouldn’t even matter if the demonic sword received credit.
But there was no reason to mention that, so I stayed silent.
Yuga glared at me sharply.
“Hah.”
She sighed, turned away from me, and lay face down on the prison bed, covering herself with the blanket.
“I’ll just sleep.”
“You won’t tell me?”
“Even if I did, you wouldn’t understand, Angel.”
“I could understand.”
“You couldn’t. Do angels have parents? Do angels have a family?”
I was at a loss for words.
Dizzy. It took me quite some time to calm that dizziness.
“…So you mean the Demon King is your family?”
“Of course. The Demon King created me.”
I bit my lip.
Yuga wouldn’t know, but just as my words earlier touched something inside Yuga, her words had touched something inside me.
Family. Family.
“Is that really that important?”
“Important what?”
I couldn’t help being cynical about the word “family.” Living as the black sheep of my entire family, I had spent countless days exhausted just remembering it.
I always waited on the hospital bed, while my family never visited properly, only depositing the hospital fees regularly.
Perhaps that’s why her words were so painful. Yuga’s hope that her family, the Demon King, would look after her.
“So the Demon King made you, and yet you, with free will and power, are dedicating yourself to his revival?”
“Is that not allowed?”
A fierce answer. Perhaps it was the first time we had touched on a relationship that we had deliberately avoided in all our past interactions.
“If you were to give up on reviving the Demon King…”
Yuga’s body seemed to twitch slightly.
“And if you found a different goal, one you truly wanted to achieve…”
My voice trembled slightly as well.
“You’d be able to leave that prison.”
“……”
Yuga didn’t answer. So I sighed and turned away, trying to summon the glass window in the air to observe the ground again.
It was stubbornness, yet somehow it sounded like a faint complaint.
“In that case, I guess I’ll never leave.”
Isabel’s stubbornness led Denk and Liz to decide to head straight to Castletina.
Even when warned it might be dangerous, Isabel silenced them with the words “It’s the Angel’s will.”
They didn’t try to verify the truth; they merely recognized Isabel’s personality—she would follow the Angel’s will no matter what—and chose not to oppose her.
Even after that, Isabel kept dozing off, so Liz told Denk about what had happened in Lettina. When Denk heard that Isabel had cured hundreds of patients there, he couldn’t help but laugh heartily.
“She really is something else, isn’t she?”
“She sure is. By the way, you’re from the Rat’s Hole, right? Which area exactly?”
Denk hesitated at that question. When Liz shot him a suspicious look, it seemed he felt a sharp gaze on the back of his head.
“I lived upstream of Tames. I was a miner in my youth.”
“Isabel fixed your shoulder, right? Did you injure it in the mine?”
“No, that was habitual dislocation. I wasn’t injured in the mine…”
Denk trailed off, feeling a cold sweat. Liz felt the same.
“You’re ambidextrous?”
“…Yes.”
“The dislocation was in your right shoulder?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“I heard about a miner who could only dig with one hand and fought off thugs alone… Was that you? The One-Time Fist?”
Liz was astonished.
The One-Time Fist—a miner known for being able to land one punch before his dislocated shoulder forced him to stop. Any thug hit by it couldn’t get up until the next afternoon. That famous miner was Denk?
Denk, swaying in the carriage, scratched his chin sheepishly.
“You bring up my embarrassing past, Miss.”
“Really?”
“Yes. That was me.”
“But how…”
“How did I get out of the Rat’s Hole? I secretly knocked people out at night and ran. Only two chased me, luckily. Using my right hand caused another dislocation. The other ran away on his own.”
Denk held the reins with his left hand and pointed to Mohican with his right.
“This guy came out with me too. After that, I never went near the Rat’s Hole again, but I was shocked when he said he wanted to go there while sleeping next to Miss.”
Liz shook her head.
It was amazing. Such a remarkable person had been living as a simple carriage driver.
Yet, thinking again, she understood. After all, she had also lived in Lettina all her life before venturing out, just like Denk.
That reminded her of Denk’s advice, giving her a strange sense of kinship.
Denk sighed briefly.
“Miss Priestess wouldn’t know this. Better to just know me at this level. It’s easier that way.”
“I see…”
“Since you’ve left the Rat’s Hole like me, I hope by the end of this journey, you’ll be able to grasp the means to survive.”
“If needed, I could always return to Lettina, right?”
“Return there?”
“Thanks to Isabel, it’s changed quite a bit. Oh, you wouldn’t know—Geralt is dead.”
“…Huh.”
After that, Denk and Liz shared brief small talk about Lettina. Short, scattered conversations, but far from dull.
The discourse of someone who left a decayed hometown and someone leaving a changing hometown is naturally like that—light, meaningless chatter for minor enjoyment, like trivial talk on the way home.
Time passed.
They arrived at Castletina in the dead of night.
Liz was in awe. While Tettina also had barriers to block monsters crossing the mountains, this place was on a whole different level.
The bricks, seemingly carved from metal rather than stone, were stacked in dozens, hundreds of layers, forming a castle-like structure.
These massive iron walls stretched endlessly, flanked by a deep moat.
However, the moat was unusual—completely dry.
The carriage crossed a wooden bridge spanning the moat and stopped at the castle gates.
Denk, now awake, confronted the guards on behalf of Isabel, who was examining the castle and moat, and Liz, who was scanning the surroundings as attentively as Isabel.
“Are you here to participate in the defense, or are you travelers?”
“We’re travelers for now, but we’ll stay until tomorrow. We can help if needed.”
“Do you have personnel capable of fighting or assisting? Combat begins at dawn.”
“We have one holy wanderer from the Church of the Main God. I can carry luggage, and Liz?”
“Luggage.”
“Understood.”
The guards allowed them through, and they entered Castletina.
It was crowded with people, most armed. Some wizards ran around, holding spheres of light to chase away the night darkness.
“Not seeing any wizards besides Yan for a long time…”
Liz muttered.
Then suddenly:
“Ah!”
Isabel exclaimed.
No wonder—because…
“There…”
In the direction Isabel looked, a tent displayed the symbol of the Church of the Main God.
From that tent emerged someone clad in heavy full armor, resting a massive iron mace on his shoulder.
Someone Isabel knew well.
Lister Leme.
He was the commander of the Church of the Main God’s heretic eradication unit, Zeronis, and also a surrogate of the same unique angel as Isabel.