The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 74

One week. That was the time they believed she was dead. The final day of mourning for the deceased.

Exactly seven days ago, Leon had watched with his own eyes as the woman was swallowed by the Bahamut. And the Bahamut that devoured her,

“What was she holding again?” Leon asked.

Heinz let out a sigh deep enough to sink the floor beneath him. “I’ve told you multiple times. The assimilated one appeared holding Hennessis. There’s no way there could be more than one of that sword. Damn it, if there were three, I would’ve coveted one too.”

“There could be a chance it was a forgery.”

“Are you serious? Are you saying I, who knows every detail down to the number of lion manes engraved on the holy sword, couldn’t tell a fake?”

“How many manes are there?”

“Sixteen.”

Leon gave a short laugh at the immediate answer, then strapped on his armor and sword belt. His internal injuries were still a mess, but thanks to a week of regeneration, there was no visible sign of it. Oscar, watching from the corner, had a bewildered expression as he struggled to follow the conversation.

“What is all this about? Didn’t you say Miss Schwarzwald was dead?”

“That’s right. That’s why I’m arming myself,” Leon replied evenly.

“A dead person appeared holding the sword that the Bahamut had. How likely do you think it is that such a being is human, if you think about it rationally?”

“…Are you saying the Bahamut took her form?” Oscar mumbled, his face pale with revulsion.

Leon’s hand, which was sheathing his sword, briefly froze before moving again, slowly.

“It’s more rational than thinking the Bahamut would regurgitate someone they ate and send them back with a sword. In fact, in the southern continent, people believe eating something makes it a part of themselves. Maybe the Bahamut learned southern customs.”

“But—”

Oscar opened his mouth to refute, but Heinz cut in, raising a hand.

“No, regardless of anything else, the assimilated one is human. I intended to ask her directly for more details… According to witnesses, she killed a swarm of Bahamut.”

Leon raised an intrigued eyebrow at the unexpected statement. As if in response to his questioning gaze, Heinz continued.

“It seems a swarm of Bahamut suddenly appeared in front of the refugees heading for the barrier. Since things had been quiet since your rampage, there weren’t many knights guarding the refugees. They tried their best, but they were few in number and couldn’t hold out for long… Just as the danger was about to spread to the citizens, the woman appeared and cut down the monsters in a single stroke. They said it looked like a miracle of God.”

Both Leon and Oscar wore subtle expressions at the unexpected turn of events. There was certainly no precedent for a Bahamut massacring other Bahamuts.

“Seeing her in person would be quicker.”

Hearing something a hundred times couldn’t match seeing it once. The three men left the room and began walking down the hallway.

Leon, lost in thought, suddenly spoke up, “How many refugees witnessed that scene? Was it a lot?”

“More than just a lot. Soon, rumors about her will spread throughout Kart.”

A frail woman had slaughtered Bahamuts that even knights couldn’t stop. Prejudices are most effective when contrasted. She had said in her letter that she wouldn’t become the protagonist of an epic, but now, who could say? The assimilated one, a commoner, might rise as a hero in times of chaos.

Leon, realizing he was secretly hoping for it, let out a quiet laugh. He shouldn’t get his hopes up. This could all be a clever ploy by the Bahamut. Or perhaps the assimilated one itself was a third party. Preparing himself for disappointment, Leon strode toward the entrance of the Holy See.

It was on the descending white steps that they encountered knights coming up in formation. After saluting Heinz, the knights stepped aside, and a flash of black caught Leon’s eye, contrasting with the white armor. Reflexively, Leon stopped.

The woman, who had only been looking at the stairs, seemed to feel his gaze and slowly lifted her head. Leon’s eyes widened. From their positions above and below, their gazes locked onto each other. Red eyes, peeking through black, flowing hair. Parted lips.

At the moment their eyes met, Leon heard something crumble. The hardened abyss cracked and scattered into darkness. The fragments, melted by the blazing fire, created a warm marsh at his feet.

Veronica Schwarzwald. The woman who had left behind only her name stood before him.

***

“I don’t remember,” Veronica spoke firmly. It felt like she had repeated the same words twenty times.

“I really don’t remember. My last memory is luring them away with Sir Berg. I was swinging my sword when I started seeing strange visions, and then I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was sitting alone in the same spot, with the holy sword in my hand instead of Oscar’s.”

“Describe the vision you saw before you lost consciousness,” Philip repeated the same dry question.

Veronica felt her mouth was sore and felt a sense of unjust frustration. Aside from Oscar, who had expressed pure joy at seeing her, everyone else was looking at her as if she were a monster. Even Oscar was waiting outside, leaving her feeling alone.

Veronica shot a glare at Leon, who had reported her death, then continued, “No matter how many times you ask, the answer won’t change. I saw myself. I was surrounded by countless copies of myself, filling my field of vision, and I screamed before we all melted away together. I don’t remember anything after that. If this is about the sword, you can take it. It wasn’t mine to begin with.”

Her weary words seemed to make the knights’ gazes grow even colder. Philip frowned deeply for a moment before quietly replying.

“Even if we wanted to, we can’t take it back.”

Can’t take it back? Why not?

Veronica didn’t understand. Wasn’t the holy sword a treasure of the church?

“Why?”

“The owner of this sword is you. A holy sword with an owner can barely function as a kitchen knife in another’s hands.”

“It can’t be transferred?”

“It will choose a new owner if you die. In other words, this proves the death of Sir Mecklenburg. Right in front of all the refugees, no less.”

It meant that the death of a hero would unsettle the public. But to Veronica, it sounded more like they couldn’t kill her easily now that all the refugees had witnessed her.

Philip let out a long sigh. “In any case, since you now wield the holy sword, fulfill your responsibility. Until His Holiness makes a decision regarding your fate, your disposition will be postponed. Given the circumstances, and your contribution in saving the refugees, that much should be acknowledged. In the meantime, you must participate in battles to defend Kart and report immediately if anything comes to mind. Sir Berg, who holds Apocalypse, will be responsible for your protection and supervision.”

Apparently deciding that there was no more information to be gained, Philip rose from his seat. After a heavy step, he paused and added, “Also, don’t forget that the Holy Knights are filled with people who’ve trained since childhood just to touch that sword.”

The white cape fluttered as he left. The voices of the knights following Philip could still be faintly heard by her.

“Deputy Commander, are you really going to leave her like that?”

“The end times are upon us. How did both holy swords end up outside the order…”

The door closed with a click. Even if they pretended to act for the greater good, their jealousy couldn’t be hidden. Veronica silently stared at the long sword resting on the table. The legendary sword coveted by any knight. She was as clueless about it as they were.

It was certainly the sword Mecklenburg had wielded, so why had it ended up in her hands? Where had she been during the week she couldn’t remember? Her clothes were clean, her body uninjured, and she wasn’t even hungry.

“People tend to think that having power means you must bear responsibility.”

Veronica, lost in thought, was startled and looked up. She had thought everyone had left, but one person remained. Leon Berg. He was leaning against the wall, staring at her intently, just as he had the moment they had reunited.

“Yes. Surprisingly, I think I understand, at least somewhat, the weight of the burden crushing you.”

Veronica shrugged in response. The casual gesture was partly an attempt to offset the dark, oppressive atmosphere he exuded. He hadn’t looked away from her since the beginning. The emotions in his gaze were too deep and intense to be a mere surprise. It was like the eyes of a lost boy longing for home.

Leon had said he saw her being swallowed by the Bahamut. In other words, he had been somewhat convinced of her death. Now, with the livestock he thought he’d raised for slaughter having returned alive, what was he thinking? Relief at her utility? Or doubt as to whether she was the same creature he’d raised?

They stared at each other for a long time, like they were locked in a silent battle of wills.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Are you disappointed I’m not dead?”

Finally, Veronica spoke first.

The man’s previously expressionless face twisted in pain for a moment. Before she could fully register his visible agitation, Leon straightened up and replied, “No, of course not. I’m genuinely happy.”

He stepped closer, bending his knees to come down to her level as she sat. His hand moved carefully toward her ankle. It seemed he was untying the handkerchief he had tied around her ankle at Hannah’s house before they parted.

Seeing it in the light, she recognized it. Ah, it was the handkerchief the princess had given him for good luck. But why were the ends singed?

As she wondered, Leon finished untying it and slowly lifted his gaze. Since he was leaning forward, his face was suddenly very close. The contour of his long eyes and straight nose was clearly visible, almost touching hers. A rich, gentle fragrance surrounded him.

At that moment, he opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”