Chapter 42
The monster's massive body collapsed.
Ashtein watched it until the very end.
His gaze was meant to see whether it might recover.
Some monsters occasionally rise from the dead, so there was no harm in staying alert.
His concern proved unfounded.
The fallen monster did not get back up.
After confirming there were no abnormalities, Ashtein planted the holy sword in the ground.
He had killed so many monsters that there wasn't a spot on his body untouched by blood.
The stench of blood had numbed his sense of smell long ago.
He wiped the sticky blood from his cheek and exhaled.
“Phew.”
The cold air met his hot breath, forming a white cloud.
When he looked up, snow was falling.
It was coming down in big, fluffy flakes.
Ashtein had a lot on his mind.
Azazel was entirely to blame for the sudden increase in his thoughts.
Wasn't that only natural?
A woman who always pretended to be strong had suddenly collapsed.
Right in front of him.
Had she been under mental strain?
Because of what?
He didn't know.
If he knew, would he be agonizing over it?
He knew he'd been cold to Azazel.
He felt a little sympathy for her, too.
But did that mean he could condone how she'd treated Aria?
That was a separate matter.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see her in a good light.
Aria was someone special to Ashtein.
Showing hostility toward her was tantamount to picking a fight with him.
Besides, hadn't he seen and heard about Aria's wounds firsthand?
The thought of how much Azazel's thoughtless words must have hurt her made his heart ache.
The insults themselves were a problem, too.
Most of them had been aimed at reopening Aria's wounds.
His concern for the guileless, sincere Saintess took precedence.
He hoped she hadn't been hurt.
He hoped she didn't think of herself as dirty.
He wanted to comfort her.
He wanted to pull her into his arms and keep whispering words of love to her.
“Damn it.”
Ashtein raked his fingers roughly through his hair.
It was an uncharacteristically irritable gesture.
Yeah.
Honestly, he was worried about Aria being alone with Azazel.
But hadn't she said it herself?
‘I want to talk with her alone. Is that okay?’
The words rose to the tip of his tongue.
Who knew what she might do to you?
She could threaten you.
She might do something underhanded.
He'd been about to refuse, seized by such unpleasant thoughts.
‘……I don't see why not.’
Whenever he looked into her clear eyes, Ashtein found his resolve softening.
He'd never bent, even if it meant breaking.
To think he'd become so gentle.
This new side of himself felt alien.
‘Have I grown weak?’
When he was with Aria, the arrowheads he'd sharpened against the world and the monsters grew blunt.
Ridiculously, she was more lethal to Ashtein than any of his enemies.
What a terrifying thing, to dilute his hatred and thirst for revenge.
Ashtein couldn't stand how lukewarm he was becoming.
That's why he'd come to this mountain.
He'd hoped that killing monsters might ease these softened feelings a little.
The surging bloodlust, the battle with blood and flesh flying everywhere.
He found it ridiculous that he took comfort in such a horrifying scene.
In a way, wasn't this a handicap, too?
-Would it not be better for you to rest?
Holy Sword Carelin was concerned for Ashtein's well-being.
She must have sensed that something was off about him.
“I'm fine.”
Of course he was fine.
It was familiar to him.
Dismembering, slashing, and killing monsters.
‘Still, there are more of them than before.’
The monsters' numbers had increased while he'd been away recently.
‘I should've wiped them out last time.’
If Bishop Ronin hadn't shown up uninvited, he would've killed every monster on Mount Ascendio.
Then perhaps he wouldn't have encountered the ‘master’ dwelling in this mountain.
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
‘It wasn't a complete waste, though.’
He didn't regret it entirely.
By going to the main temple of the Erotic Cult, Aria had gained her freedom, and Ashtein had obtained the holy sword.
It had been a necessary visit.
The hero looked at the pure white sword in his hand.
The holy sword had many advantages.
Its well-balanced weight distribution kept its user from tiring even after swinging it for a long time; its sharp blade hardly dulled, slicing through tough monster flesh as easily as paper; and it absorbed mana so well that he could repeatedly use techniques that would wear down an ordinary sword's durability.
Most of all, he liked that it naturally reduced the healing of the monsters he cut.
Even in disrepair, a holy sword was still a holy sword.
-Hmm, from this girl's perspective, you are indeed overdoing it.
It wasn't without its drawbacks.
The holy sword was incredibly noisy.
“Shut up.”
Even when he spoke coldly, Carelin chattered on without looking discouraged.
-You know, this girl doesn't much care for watching people who seem so eager to die, like you. You should value your own body as much as you love Aria. Or do you plan to make her a widow?
“A widow? We haven't even had a wedding yet.”
-You intend to someday, don't you?
Marriage.
Could he?
It felt like a distant promise.
Ashtein answered calmly.
“It's too early to talk about the future when I haven't even killed the Demon King.”
-Heh, surely you can at least imagine it?
“It weakens my resolve when you go on about that saccharine nonsense.”
-You're a fool. Most people get through today by relying on flimsy hopes like that.
“Don't give me a long-winded lecture.”
Ashtein took a few breaths, then pulled the holy sword from the ground.
The sun was gradually setting.
He should get rid of a few more before heading back.
By then, Aria and Azazel's conversation would probably be over.
With that thought, he started walking.
Several hours passed.
Ashtein was still wandering around Mount Ascendio.
It was by no means what he wanted.
He stopped and looked at a bare tree without a single leaf.
Just a few dozen minutes ago, he'd carved an ‘X’ into it.
-Ashtein.
At Carelin's dry remark, Ashtein gave a savage smile.
“We're going in circles.”
It was a bizarre phenomenon that nothing else could explain.
Carelin continued, as if agreeing with Ashtein.
-It's a barrier, or some similarly distorted magic.
Ashtein thought.
Who had done this?
Who would want to trap him here?
There was only one likely culprit.
It must have been the doing of the ‘master’ who lived in this mountain.
……But why?
They hadn't so much as shown the tip of their nose before. Why do this now?
Had something changed from before?
If he had to name what was different…
Ashtein looked at the sword in his hand.
‘The holy sword?’
That was the only difference.
But how could the mountain's ‘master’ have sensed the holy sword?
Interesting.
Ashtein was curious.
“Should I break this barrier?”
-That will be difficult.
It was a negative answer.
Ashtein agreed with Carelin, too.
Barriers like this only grow more tightly knit if you try to force them apart.
In other words, they had to be broken from within.
“Which means I need to get out of here and head in the right direction.”
The right direction.
That meant heading toward the center of the barrier.
As he swallowed a groan, Carelin replied in a bright, ringing voice.
-Don't worry. This girl knows the way there.
“That's reassuring.”
-Go in the direction I tell you.
“All right. Lead the way.”
There was no hesitation on Ashtein's face.
As always, he would throw himself at the situation before him with everything he had.
* * *
It was a pitch-black scene.
It was dark because it was night, and the fact that they were in the mountains made it feel even more ominous.
Snow was swirling, too.
A fierce blizzard.
It was just like winter in the north.
In such terrible weather, two women in thick coats were walking along a rugged mountain path.
With every step, their feet sank deep into the high drifts.
Azazel led the way, conjuring an artificial light with magic, but every so often she checked on Aria.
“You didn't have to come along.”
She wasn't just saying that.
Aria's company was a nuisance to Azazel.
A troublesome burden, one might say.
“I didn't want to just sit around waiting.”
“What could you possibly do to help?”
It wasn't a mocking or critical question; she was genuinely asking.
Aria was in an awkward position as a combatant.
She knew it herself, so she naturally fell silent.
She slowly thought about what she could do.
“At least I could act as a human shield if things came to it…….”
Azazel grimaced and shook her head.
“I don't want you to, and I don't need you to.”
At the nearly immediate answer, Aria lowered her eyes to the ground, looking dejected.
“……I'm sorry for being stubborn.”
When Aria looked downcast, Azazel made an extremely awkward face and waved her hand.
“O-okay, okay, enough! It's not that I hate it. R-right! At least I have someone to talk to, so I won't be lonely!”
“Really?”
Aria's face brightened as if she hadn't been depressed a moment ago.
Is it okay to be happy that quickly?
Azazel awkwardly raised the corners of her mouth.
“Well, I do wonder if it's right to insist on coming along so suddenly…….”
“S-sorry.”
When Azazel spoke in a reproachful tone, Aria immediately lost heart.
Azazel found Aria's behavior fascinating.
Wasn't she the one who'd been so mature and composed just a few dozen minutes ago?
Azazel thought this side of her was entertaining in its own way.
‘I guess her emotions swing pretty wildly.’
It wasn't something she should be thinking, considering she'd just buried her face in Aria's chest and sobbed her eyes out.
In any case, the two women pressed on at a brisk pace, staying alert.
An owl hooted, and every so often they heard wild animals crunching through the snow.
Even the smallest sounds made Aria jump in fright, but each time, Azazel calmed her in a low voice.
“Don't be scared. If anything comes, I'll take care of it.”
“Y-you're so cool.”
Such a dependable mage.
Aria gazed at Azazel with admiration, and Azazel looked away, perhaps finding it embarrassing.
“D-don't flatter me.”
“But it's true.”
The witch was floored by the utterly sincere words, without a trace of falsehood.
As Azazel blushed furiously, Aria asked another question.
“U-um, Ms. Azazel, why aren't you flying like before? Wouldn't that be faster?”
“There's a perfectly good reason.”
“A good reason?”
Azazel, who was leading the way, glanced back at Aria and smiled confidently.
“What do you think are the benefits of flying?”
Aria pressed her thumb against the bridge of her nose and pondered.
“Hmm, a wider view? And it's faster?”
“That's right. You can see farther and move faster. But it's nighttime now, isn't it? Even if your field of vision expands, visibility is so poor that the advantage becomes meaningless. And no matter how fast you fly, the trees create blind spots, making it hard to find Ashtein.”
Aria nodded lightly in agreement, since it made sense when she heard the explanation.
“That's true, now that you mention it.”
“But the biggest reason is what I'm about to explain.”
“What is it?”
“If the one who defeated Ashtein really exists in this mountain, wouldn't they notice a ‘flying mage’ right away? Flying is convenient, but it draws attention. And the mana waves are strong, so it's hard to hide.”
It was a long explanation, but in short, flying would draw a lot of aggro.
Well, mages are glass cannons, after all, Aria thought, accepting the explanation.
“So we could be ambushed.”
“That's the idea…….”
Suddenly, Azazel's expression turned serious.
As if she'd spotted something, she raised her left hand to stop Aria.
Azazel was visibly tense.
“……I didn't think they'd come out to meet us this soon.”
Clank.
Clank.
A metallic sound rang out.
The two women's eyes turned toward one spot.
There stood a knight clad in dark armor that gleamed like snake scales.
His helmet, breastplate, chain gauntlets, greaves—every piece was black.
He looked like a knight of death.
A blue light glowed from within his helmet.
-The air outside is refreshing.
His voice was dull, like metal scraping against metal.
Azazel frowned and pointed her gnarled wooden staff at the knight.
“Stay right there. If you come any closer, you'll regret it.”
The knight stopped walking and gazed at them silently.
-Oh? A young mage, is it? And beside her…….
He swallowed his words.
As if surprised.
As if amazed.
-Oh?
It was a strange reaction.
Azazel was just about to demand an explanation for his odd response.
“You.”
Her tone was so cold it sent a shiver down the listener's spine.
Azazel looked at Aria as if to ask, ‘Could she really make a voice like that?’
Her expression was so devastated that it was fair to say her face had crumbled.
“Where did you get that sword?”
Only then did Azazel notice the sword in the black knight's hand.
A sword with a blade as white as snow.
She'd seen it somewhere before.
-You have a keen eye. Would you like to know?
“Tell me.”
Aria wasn't using honorifics.
Her eyes were trembling uncontrollably.
What could that sword be to make her so agitated?
The black knight answered in a voice tinged with laughter.
-I just stole it from an impetuous hero.
Azazel shuddered.
The sword in the black knight's hand.
It was the holy sword.