The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 83

“You like him?”

Veni, a child who had been abandoned once, always shows the signs. When faced with the same situation again, they shatter.

Those were her mother’s words as she looked at a rag doll she had picked up. Veronica froze, holding her breath as she locked eyes with him. A dark abyss, one she shouldn’t step into, loomed before her.

“Since when? Ah, could it be…”

The man she had longed to reach took a step closer. Sliding his fingers through hers, he bent down until their faces were mere inches apart.

“Was the one you were waiting for on that rainy night him?”

With the cabinet pressed against her back, there was nowhere to retreat. Veronica stared blankly up at the man cloaked in darkness.

Ah, how arrogant she had been to think she could save him in his fleeting moments of despair.

How self-centered to believe they shared the same void.

She had never been abandoned. Her emptiness was fundamentally different from his. This man’s heart was a hollow void, a gaping hole in its very core.

“Why aren’t you answering? Are you scared again, like the first time?”

His question was gentle, though his gaze was piercing. Despite his rough exterior, there was kindness in him. Remembering their first meeting, Veronica tightened her grip on his hand.

“…You’re the one who’s afraid.”

His crimson eyes quivered, struck by her words. Today, his scar looked more like a tear. It pained her. His occasional boyish expressions always hurt her.

Why? Why are you so scared? What are you afraid of?

“Don’t abandon me,” Leon murmured, his voice low and damp, just like when she had heard him in her sleep. “I’m not going anywhere,” he had said back then.

As she opened her mouth to respond, his lips touched hers. His hands, warm and tender to the point of tears, cupped her face. What began as a cautious, tentative gesture deepened with urgency. More. Just a little more. His free hand gripped her waist tightly. Then—

“Lord Berg, are you in there?”

Knock, knock. The sound interrupted their labored breathing. A soldier’s urgent voice repeated the call through the door. Leon didn’t stop. He heard only her. The air surrounding them fractured, allowing reality to seep in. Without it, they might have remained trapped in that dark void. Such was the depth and solidity of the abyss.

Knock, knock. The door trembled again, and at last, Veronica managed to push him away.

“There’s an urgent request for reinforcements from the wall!” the soldier shouted from outside.

Finally hearing the message, Leon sat upright, muttering incomprehensible words—likely Tiranian dialect. His darkened eyes lingered on Veronica’s flushed face before he grabbed his sword.

He had spent his whole life as a knight; his response was instinctive.

Wait, is he really leaving like this? He hasn’t even rested properly.

“Eat breakfast before you go.”

Leon, already draping his black cloak as he strode toward the door, glanced back. His face, now bearing the hardened features of a man, briefly held her gaze. It was as if he was trying to memorize her. Like that stormy night. The kind of back you can’t reach.

He didn’t seem to expect an answer. Or maybe he didn’t think one would come.

Bang. Left alone, Veronica stared at the plate on the table, her breaths shaky. On it were a light soup and soft white bread. The white steam rose and dissipated, like the warmth lingering in her body.

***

Kart might fall at this rate. Leon tried to cool his fevered body by immersing himself in thought.

The sacred wall had abandoned humanity. It no longer protected them.

No, there’s no need for lofty words. God simply turned His back on humanity.

To others, such words would sound blasphemous, but Leon was certain now. Given the circumstances, it was clear that Veronica was imbued with holy power. That alone made everything align perfectly. Bahamut, which previously only assimilated those who had seen the statues twenty years ago, the voice she said she heard—“Found you”—and her unique ability to utilize assimilation.

Bahamut had been searching for God and finally found him.

It devoured the woman and took God from her body. Why it released the holy sword and Veronica afterward remained a mystery, but it likely deemed them no longer a threat. She had already achieved complete assimilation, becoming part of the evolved “new humanity.”

Veronica returned on the seventh day. Knowing the contents of the scriptures, Leon should have realized it then. Instead, he briefly entertained the idea that Bahamut had merely worn her skin. He had even forgotten that it took God seven days to create the world.

The world had been rebuilt without humans noticing. Bahamut had seized God. As proof, they were beginning to grow heads. It was said that God created humans in His image. Humanity’s form was the image of God. So, the fact that Bahamuts were growing human-like heads was evidence they were becoming more like God.

That much was fine, but the real problem was…

“The southwest wall. The archers are holding them off for now, but they’ll retreat the moment you ascend.”

Hearing the soldier’s words, Leon stopped his thoughts and boarded the pulley system that led up the wall. He didn’t want to dwell on it any further. His stomach churned. No one in the world knew more about Bahamut than Leon. During his time in Tiran, he had experimented on them, studied them, and identified their biological weaknesses.

A species that descended to this land to survive wouldn’t have desired religion from the outset.

All life lives to survive.

They wanted to sever their connections and live as individuals.

Isn’t that what having a face means? A characteristic that distinguishes one human from another.

Once, in Tiran, a comrade had said that even if Bahamut conquered the world, they must have lifespans. The first Bahamut would grow old and die, and with it, the species would disappear.

But if Bahamut severed the connection between parent and offspring, ceasing to be a single organism, they might preserve their species as a whole.

They would truly become a “new humanity” that replaces mankind.

“…The scripture says God has two swords: Hennessis, the sword of origin and birth, and Apocalypse, the sword of destruction and end.”

Leon muttered to himself as he stepped onto the towering wall. The wind, wild as flames, whipped his hair.

“Fitting names, aren’t they?”

Time was running out.

If they didn’t end this before Bahamut fully formed faces, the fate of the two species would follow that of the two swords.

***

Clatter. The holy sword, propped against the wall, slid down. Veronica flinched as she set her empty dishes down, turning toward the spot where the sword had rested.

The wind blowing in through the window was fierce, likely due to the storm that had swept through the previous day. It was strong enough to push the heavy sword, knock over the mirror on the wall, and shatter it.

Looking at the shards of the fallen mirror after Leon had left, Veronica spoke softly.

“A bad omen…”

Her heart was restless. She couldn’t shake the image of his expression before he left. She had almost hugged him, forgetting her resolve to push him away. He had worn that kind of face. The kind that made it unbearable not to hold him and say everything would be okay.

“This isn’t the time for such thoughts.”

Shaking her head to clear her mind, Veronica sighed and left the room to return the dishes. She forced food into her mouth, all the while wondering what she could do. Why had the holy sword chosen her? What did God want from her?

Battle. Any knight could fight. Swinging a sword was nothing special. She needed something different, something unique.

As she reflected on the past, Veronica suddenly realized she had forgotten about the wilderness in the chaos after the landslide.

She needed to investigate further. To share what she discovered.

“Ah.”

As she placed the dishes on the hallway floor and straightened up, she was startled to see a knight standing by the door. The knight looked equally surprised.

“You’re the one from yesterday…”

It was the apprentice knight who had tied her wrist and then released her. Among them, he was the one who appeared closest to her age.

Before she could say anything else, the knight, stiff with fear, blurted out an apology.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“I thought you’d died.”

“…Sorry for being alive.”

No, that’s not what I meant.

Veronica blinked in confusion. Gone was the overconfident knight from yesterday, replaced by someone utterly different. She tried to reassure him with a small smile, but it only seemed to make him more terrified. It was baffling. Shouldn’t they be questioning why she, someone who wasn’t supposed to enter the room, had done so?

But it wasn’t just the knight before her. The other soldiers lined up in the hallway wore similar expressions. Suddenly, Veronica’s face flushed as she realized they all likely knew Leon had spent the night in the room.

In any case, fear was power. How could she use this? Deep in thought, Veronica looked up at the knight. His friendly features reminded her of a childhood friend from Beyern, someone she’d never see again, a lost spring.

“Excuse me, I have a question. Could you answer just one thing?”

Though her voice wasn’t loud, it rang clearly through the hallway.

“If I want to meet His Holiness the Pope, where should I go?”

Perhaps it was because she spoke not for herself, but for others.