Chapter 71 - Fear

The golden radiance faded. At the same time, Gartea’s body crumbled into ash and vanished.

At the center of the slowly fading light, Bera sank to his knees, gasping for breath.

THUD!

CRACK!

A sharp cracking sound followed. Bera slowly turned his gaze toward its source—the demonic sword.

“Ah...”

CRACK!

Cracks were spreading through the demonic sword’s blade.

In a sense, it was only natural. It had borne the brunt of Gartea’s attacks throughout the battle, and Bera had then forced divine energy far beyond its limits into it and detonated it. How could a demonic sword that had not even become a Masterpiece withstand all that?

Watching the demonic sword break apart, Bera let out a groan filled with regret. Then nausea surged within him, and his body began to convulse.

“Cough!”

His entire body heaved. The contents of his stomach surged upward.

What spilled onto the ground was dead blood, stained pitch-black.

“Ghh...!”

He clenched his teeth, trying somehow to swallow the blood back down, but it was hopeless. Bera retched again, vomiting up the blood that remained.

THUMP! THUMP!

His heart was pounding wildly. Having lost so much blood, he was growing dizzy.

It would have been good if the damage had ended with his battered organs, but unfortunately, the true backlash had not even begun.

WHOOSH!

His soul caught fire. His entire body began to convulse again.

“Gaaagh...!”

Bera collapsed to the ground, trembling as he wrapped his arms around himself.

Pain tore through every part of his body. The backlash for making a reckless oath was beginning.

The divine powers of the oath never granted strength without a price.

One offered a tangible, clearly defined payment and received a quantified amount of strength that matched it exactly. That was the premise on which the power was meant to be used.

Yet the rules Bera had laid down for this battle had been anything but clearly defined.

He had fought by staking things that could not be quantified, such as “steeling his resolve” and “upholding his duty.” And if one considered what he had done at the end, he had drawn on strength through a “vow” without setting a price at all. Backlash was only natural.

“Cough...!”

Blood burst from his mouth again.

Not the black blood he had been vomiting all along, but bright red, fresh blood.

“A sword thrust that pierces Gartea’s heart.”

For making that thrust a reality, for claiming something beyond his level of mastery, Bera was having payment exacted from his body and soul.

His flesh was crushed, his bones sliced apart. His organs twisted, and blood rose in his throat.

With his soul serving as firewood, the mounting pain was difficult to endure even for Bera, who stood within the realm of the superhuman.

He desperately clung to a consciousness that seemed ready to snap at any moment and tried to rise, but all he managed was to topple to the ground again.

‘To the Saintess...’

He had to go to Renée.

He had to stay by her side today as though nothing had happened. He could not remain sprawled here.

He tried to steel his resolve, but his consciousness continued to sink.

And so Bera lost consciousness, lying on the ground looking as though he were about to die.

* * *

Late that morning, Renée shook off her grogginess and stepped outside. Puzzled by the strangely subdued atmosphere around her, she tilted her head and asked,

“What’s wrong?”

“... Uh.”

Hella flinched at Renée’s words and hesitated.

She was wondering whether it was right to tell her now.

Bera had gone out with a sword in the dead of night and still had not returned.

Even Hella, oblivious as she could be, knew that telling Renée this would upset her.

Unable to bring herself to say it, Hella sent Norn a pleading look.

‘Please help me.’

That was what it conveyed.

Her gaze reached Norn, then Dovan beside him.

Silence settled over them all.

“Come to think of it, where’s Bera? Has he gone to train?”

Renée spoke again. She had simply recalled how Bera sometimes stepped out early in the morning to train, but her words only deepened the gloom.

After a brief pause, Dovan, seated opposite Renée, gripped the armrests of his wheelchair. His face twisted terribly as he spoke.

“... He went out during the night and has not returned.”

“What?”

Dovan lowered his head, overcome by regret.

Only now did the thought rise within him that letting Bera leave alone with a sword last night had been a mistake.

“... Sir Bera left the smithy with a sword last night. He still hasn’t returned. It looked as though he was going to fight. He said he would be back before sunrise...”

The smile on Renée’s face abruptly broke.

“W-what do you mean?”

“... I am sorry. I should not have let him go.”

“Master...”

Deep remorse lay beneath Dovan’s voice.

Renée, who could sense that remorse more keenly than anyone present, began to pale at the picture that suddenly formed in her mind.

Bera had gone out to fight. Without telling her, in secret while she slept. And he had not returned.

Those facts came together into a single conclusion.

‘Bera...’

He was in danger.

“W-we have to go find him...”

The murmur escaped before she knew it. She reached out with her cane.

TAP!

Renée tried to step forward, but her hasty footing faltered, sending her tumbling to the ground.

THUD!

As she sank down, Norn cried out.

“Saintess!”

Norn hurried over to support her. Leaning on him, Renée planted her cane again and stepped forward, only to collapse once more like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Anguish clouded Norn’s face. Hella’s was no different.

Norn bit down hard on his lip, then looked at Renée and spoke.

“Hella and I will go search for him. Nothing will have happened to him. This is Sir Bera, after all. Who could possibly put him in danger?”

“Yes... Yes...”

A dazed reply slipped from Renée’s mouth.

Norn’s expression grew grave at the sight, and he turned to Hella.

“Hella, let’s leave at once.”

“Got it.”

“Saintess, please wait just a little while. Only a little while.”

Renée nodded.

Norn and Hella left. Aisha, who had been at a loss for what to do, called out and immediately followed them.

“I’ll help look too!”

Even as they moved away, Renée remained seated on the ground, her face blank.

* * *

With Dovan’s help, Renée returned to her bedroom. She lay curled up on the bed, doing nothing but trembling.

The people who had left late that morning had still not returned, though the entire afternoon had passed.

Surely there should have been news by now. Knowing nothing, she could only feel her anxiety grow.

He would be all right. Nothing would have happened. Yet even as she tried to reassure herself, she could not suppress her anxiety.

The longer she huddled alone in the darkness, the longer she waited without knowing when it would end, the more her anxiety took shape as a terrifying picture.

Bera might be dead.

That thought would not leave her.

She imagined a coldness lingering at her trembling fingertips.

The thought that this was what it would feel like to stroke Bera’s dead body made her flinch, and she curled up even more tightly.

A world without Bera.

The mere thought of it had prompted that reaction.

Her thoughts unraveled. Her breathing quickened. Her chest constricted, and a stifling pressure rose within her.

After a long while spent gasping in that state, Renée staggered upright. If she stayed like this any longer, she felt she truly would lose her mind. She had to go find Bera.

She took the cane propped beside the bed and slowly lowered her feet to the floor.

TAP!

As Renée planted her cane, she suddenly froze.

‘W-where...’

Where should she go? Where was Bera?

No, before any of that—

‘The door...’

Where was it?

The trembling that had begun in her fingertips spread through her entire body. Consumed by fear, she could no longer think rationally.

It was dark.

Her world was so dark that she could not see even an inch ahead.

She had to go find Bera, yet she could not even properly locate the door in this little room.

“... Bera.”

Bera should have been there. He should have knocked at the door to let her know which way it was. He should have taken her hand and led her.

But Bera was not there.

Bera had vanished from her world, leaving her unable to make sense of anything.

Renée fell flat onto the floor and felt blindly across it.

‘No...’

She could not be without Bera. Without him, without his hand, she could not move forward. She could do nothing.

She would return to those days. To the time when she could see nothing, when she clung to memories that were barely holding on as they faded and went round and round along the same path.

Fear abruptly welled up within her.

Her tightly clenched insides and pounding heart together released a surge of heat. It squeezed tears from her eyes.

Tears streamed down her face. Ragged breaths escaped her.

“Ah... Ah...”

She crawled, feeling her way across the floor, but—

THUD!

Her head struck the wall.

Bracing herself against it, she stood and moved sideways along the wall, but—

THUD!

This time, her shoulder struck the other wall at its end.

Renée slid down the wall.

‘I’m trapped.’

She could not leave this room. She could not find the door. No, even if she did get through it—

‘I don’t know...’

She did not know the world beyond that door.

Renée curled up. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and buried her head between her knees. Her trembling lips uttered the same name once more.

“Bera...”

Without Bera, she could not go anywhere.

* * *

Norn drew in a sharp breath at the sight before him.

After abandoning their initial search of only the peak where the smithy stood, he had crossed two more peaks and searched as far as the edge of the forest near the village. There, he had reached a completely ravaged clearing.

It was the sight of that place that had made him gasp.

The ground was gouged and overturned everywhere.

Not a single tree nearby remained intact, and the hanging dust obscured his vision.

Norn was certain.

A battle had taken place here.

Sir Bera would be here.

His steps grew urgent. He summoned divine energy, clearing away the dust.

“Sir Bera!”

His shout rang through the clearing. Naturally, no answer came.

Even so, Norn did not stop searching the clearing. Then his foot suddenly caught on something, and he looked down.

What he saw there was—

“Ah...”

Bera, unconscious and in a horrific state.

Norn quickly bent down and pulled Bera out of the dust, then held his ear above Bera’s nose.

‘He’s breathing!’

He was still alive. Moving urgently, Norn hoisted Bera onto his back and began strengthening his body with divine energy.

Bera could stop breathing at any moment. He had to get back quickly and leave his treatment to the Saintess.

With that thought, Norn began sprinting toward the smithy with all his strength.