Chapter 37

The nostrils filled with the smell of burning. Unbeknownst, I must have inhaled some smoke, for my lungs ached strangely. I cleared my throat several times, but the discomfort in my body did not go away. Only a slightly sticky phlegm came out.

"---Then, brave one. Let me ask you again. Is your god the same as ours, or is it a false god wearing a different mask?"

In a situation where I had yet to calm my breathing, that clear voice was thrown into my ears.

Give me a break. My thoughts are still in disarray. Rather, I would like a night's respite to sleep soundly like the grass and trees. With a frown still on my face, I looked up at the person in front of me from my crouched position.

Even though I had somewhat calmed down, the boldness to step into what could still be called a fire scene without hesitation, and to not change her expression at all, was remarkable. In a world that seemed to be covered in soot, she alone exuded a presence that altered the surrounding air.

She was the one called the Holy Maiden. The light that shone in her eyes was undoubtedly a testament to her faith. Judging by her long, neatly styled hair, she might have been born into a higher class. Her refined manners and solemn atmosphere suggested that she could accomplish something important that I could not, and she stirred the expectations of the common people.

Indeed, she was revered as the Holy Maiden. She undoubtedly possessed the qualities that drew people to her. This, people would call charisma. It was something I had no connection with. I couldn't help but snort.

"Can you at least wait a bit? I'm still trying to figure out if I'm really alive or if I'm actually dead and you're the gatekeeper of hell."

I reached for my chest to take out the chewing tobacco from my pocket, but my hand only met air. I knew it had burned along with the new clothes I had bought when I was displaced, but old habits die hard.

I clenched my back teeth in disgust and squinted my eyes for a moment. Most likely, answering this question immediately would not be a wise choice. The Holy Maiden was at the center, surrounded by a dozen or so agitated believers, all of whom were staring at me with glaring eyes. Their gazes were like those of predatory birds targeting their prey. On the other hand, our side consisted only of Karia, Helt Stanley, and Fialart La Borgograd, who was still unconscious and in a dream.

I let out a deep sigh filled with confusion and anguish, and my lungs ached.

I was indeed supposed to have died a perfect death. If you're looking down from heaven, I'd like an answer. Hey, God.

*

With both feet already in the realm of death, I had thought my role was over, but a light shone in my eyes. I closed my eyelids reflexively and squinted. After blinking several times, when my eyes finally began to function again, a girl came into view.

It was Karia, with her magnificent silver hair tied into two braids, carrying a long sword. Her frowning face exuded a menacing aura.

But it was a strange story. I had thought that only I and Fialart would be the ones to die and move on to the afterlife. The idea of this woman dying was hard to imagine. Ah, no, perhaps she was the guide that often appears when one goes to heaven or hell, taking the form of a known person from one's life.

"Finally awake, are you? I thought you were imitating the Sleeping Beauty from a play."

Karia, with a mischievous grin, said, "Should I have kissed you to wake you up?"

I nodded lightly in agreement in my heart.

I understood. This was not a fake or a mere imitation. It was Karia herself. No one else could speak in such a way that needlessly irritated people's spirits. If a guide were to appear in the form of a known person, I would have preferred it to be Aluena. If this wicked woman were to be the last one I saw, I would rather have the gatekeeper of hell appear in person.

But if that were the case. If the Karia in front of me was not an imitation but the real thing, then I must be alive, opening my eyes with my own body.

Why? This question alone floated in my sluggish mind. I had offered my body to the flames, and the heat had penetrated to the depths of my organs. For a human, the result could only be certain death.

I lowered my mouth and bit my lip.

"…Yeah, that's right. If you have to thank someone, thank him. Your life is undoubtedly his doing. And my sword, too."

With a voice that lacked conviction, Karia pointed to Fialart, who was lying on the ground, being tended to by Helt Stanley.

The reason was Fialart's magic. While I didn't fully understand it, if it was her doing, it made sense to a certain extent.

She was undoubtedly a genius. Even if she had complained about not being able to use magic, it was plausible that she had used her talent in the heat of the moment.

Still, I didn't understand why she had saved me. To Fialart, I was no more than a stone by the roadside. Ah, no, perhaps in this era, she still had a conscience that could be extended even to a worthless pebble.

---Tap, tap.

The footsteps echoed strangely throughout the room, clearly approaching. Moreover, there were multiple sets.

This is bad. My teeth clenched together instinctively. At the very least, Fialart was unable to fight. My eyes were still adjusting to the light, and my vision was flickering. My body felt off, as if there was a foreign object inside. Whatever it was, the aftereffects were still lingering, and I was far from being in top condition. Karia and Helt Stanley. If it were just the two of them, they could handle most crises. But with a burden like this, it would be difficult.

As my sluggish thoughts crawled through my mind, the source of the footsteps became clear. As expected, it was the woman called the Holy Maiden, accompanied by a dozen armed soldiers, carefully stepping over the scattered ash and charred debris.

"I commend your courage, unknown one. Following the teachings that sages and heroes should be revered, I will show you respect."

It was the woman called the Holy Maiden. Her voice, unlike the angry one I had heard in the chapel, was overly polite, making me feel a chill inside.

It was a chill, a product of experience. Polite speech is often used by those who harbor something in their hearts. Like the nobles in the royal palace, who hide their malice behind words, or the poor who flatter the rich to get a share.

This woman has a plan. No doubt about it. Otherwise, she wouldn't have brought a dozen soldiers as her escort.

"Thank you, it's an honor. Well, in light of this unfortunate misunderstanding, I hope you can forgive the commotion."

I said this in a joking manner, probing her. I could see her eyes flicker for a moment.

"Yes, from the beginning, there was no anger in my heart. For the emblem believers, all lives and possessions are destined to return to God. The burned and lost items are simply gathered to God. To resent and lament this is the height of foolishness."

Karia nodded silently in agreement, and Helt must have noticed as well.

This was sophistry. Even if it were true, this doctrine only made sense to her, the Holy Maiden Matia. The people behind her clearly showed their anger in their eyes, and the trembling of their limbs was a sign of their suppressed emotions. Their hearts must have been boiling.

The crisis was still not over. We were in a situation where a single spark could ignite everything.

"Come to think of it, I haven't even heard your purpose—then, brave one. Let me ask you again. Is your god the same as ours, or is it a false god wearing a different mask?"

With no trace of malice or benevolence, the Holy Maiden Matia asked, as if it were the most natural question to ask.