■ Who Killed the Swallow? □
Upon hearing my question, the sage hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“If I tell you what happened that day, what will you do for me?”
At this, Barnett, who had been gripping the sage’s wrist, replied with an air of disbelief.
“Do you really think you’re in a position to negotiate?”
“…Then I won’t be able to say anything at all.”
Seeing the rather resolute demeanor of the sage, I gestured for Barnett to stop.
Reluctantly letting go of the sage’s hand, Barnett wore an expression clearly dissatisfied with the situation.
It didn’t matter anyway since their feet were shackled and there was no chance of escape.
I fetched a chair from outside and sat in front of the sage.
Scratching my head, I said,
“Lin, let’s keep it simple. I don’t want to interrogate an old comrade like some kind of pervert.”
At this, a glimmer of false hope flickered in the sage’s eyes.
“Big Brother, please save me. At least unlike Sister Rachel, I never betrayed or directly harmed you, right?”
“That’s true.”
The reason I betrayed the Hero Party wasn’t heavily influenced by the sage.
If the hero accounted for 50%, Rachel made up 30%, and the sage and cleric each took about 10%?
Most of it was due to the stress that skyrocketed when the hero and Rachel started dating, turning into a couple causing chaos. Beyond the disdainful looks and verbal insults the sage and cleric threw my way every time I visited the guild hall, they didn’t do much else.
But there is a saying in this world:
A sister-in-law meddling is worse than a mother-in-law hitting.
“Lin, you’re a smart kid, so you must have understood why the hero acted that way towards me.”
At this, the sage, reading my intentions, bit her lips before answering.
“…Wasn’t it because Big Brother feared losing his woman to you?”
“Correct.”
Clapping my hands, I then spoke to her with a cold gaze.
“And you chose the hero, who would receive great rewards after successfully defeating the Demon King, while ignoring the oppression and humiliation I faced despite being strong but destined to be overshadowed.”
“But there was nothing I could do! For me, that was the best choice!”
I shrugged as I leaned back against the chair.
“Life is always about making choices. I understand that you wanted to succeed using the hero’s connections, given your humble background.”
“So…!”
I firmly cut off the sage mid-sentence.
“Therefore, Lin, it’s time to accept the consequences of your choices. You simply chose the wrong side.”
“Ughh!”
Reality hit hard, distorting the sage’s face.
Barnett, standing nearby listening to our conversation, whispered anxiously to me.
“Is it okay to keep pressuring her like this? Maybe we should try coaxing her gently instead.”
“Just wait a little longer. There’s a method to this madness.”
Pushing Barnett aside, I looked straight at the sage.
“Alright, enough of the boring talk. Let’s make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“If you teach me in detail what happened that day, I’ll spare your life.”
“How am I supposed to trust that now?”
“If you prefer, I can write it on a Geer Scroll. Even if you can’t trust me, you can trust this.”
As I said this, I pulled out a piece of paper from my coat and waved it in front of her. The sage’s expression brightened slightly.
Of course, when one’s only hope is crushed, even a new lifeline seems like something worth grabbing onto.
Maintaining a poker face, I waited for the sage to make her decision.
Finally, swallowing hard, the sage accepted the scroll and pen I offered.
“One: If the story I seek is told, thereafter I, Caldlasth, shall not harm the sage in any way.”
“One: The sage shall not intentionally withhold information when recounting the story sought by me, Caldlasth.”
It was a very simple condition.
Since there was nothing to nitpick about, she read the scroll several times before signing her name in the designated space.
I signed my name in the same place as well.
A soul-bound oath is sacred.
Even I, despite my nature, cannot break such a promise once made.
Given the broad scope of the agreement, there was no room for tricks or loopholes afterward.
Aware of this fact, the sage glanced at my face briefly before starting her story with a determined expression.
“It happened three days ago.” [[#]] It had already been 78 days since she was imprisoned in the Demon King’s Castle.
A space devoid of color, where nothing existed—so pathological that it drove her mad.
For the sage, who usually enjoyed reading books, the only ways to pass the time were talking with fellow prisoners on the same floor, like the warrior or the cleric, or drawing pictures on the prison floor with pebbles.
When the walls and floors of the prison, which served as her sketchbook, became filled with drawings, and the warrior and cleric, with whom she shared hopeful conversations, began to visibly tire—it reached its limit.
That day too, after spending the whole day doing meaningless things, she barely managed to fall asleep.
Sleeping on the cold stone floor without a soft mattress or warm blanket was grueling.
While leaning against the wall, lost in shallow sleep, she suddenly felt a vibration.
Thinking it might be an earthquake, she cautiously opened her eyes, only to see the radiant light enveloping the back of the cleric.
Though originally locked away in the cell, she found herself inexplicably standing in the corridor of the prison, wrapped in a dazzling light she had never seen before.
“Sister! Please let me out too! Sister! Please!”
She hastily got up and shouted at the top of her lungs toward the cleric, but received no response.
Awakened by the commotion, the warrior imprisoned across from her stood in the corridor, looking confused at the sight of the cleric.
As if controlled by something, the cleric slowly began walking toward the innermost chamber of the prison.
Until then, the sage had perceived this phenomenon positively.
Perhaps the Goddess of Courage had miraculously come to rescue the hero and themselves, imprisoned in the Demon King’s Castle.
Such thoughts crossed her mind.
However, those naive thoughts were shattered by the blood-curdling scream that followed just minutes later.
“Aaaaaaaaah!”
A familiar voice.
There was no doubt that the person screaming was the cleric who had walked down the corridor moments earlier, entranced by something.
Desperate to know what was happening but unable to see due to being locked in her cell, the sage could only guess.
The same applied to Rachel, the warrior in the adjacent cell, who watched the corridor with tension etched on her face.
Eventually—
“Huff… Huff… Huff…”
The cleric, fleeing as though chased by something, caught sight of the sage.
Seemingly relieved upon seeing a fellow prisoner, the cleric collapsed onto the floor.
Gripping the rosary she always wore around her neck, she curled up and muttered incomprehensible words.
“O Lord, why dost Thou test me thus, and take the life of Thy innocent lamb…?”
Like a repentant sinner, the cleric crouched on the floor, trembling violently, and eventually passed away still clutching her rosary.
The sage learned of the hero’s death the following day.[[#]]”…That’s everything I know.”
The sage concluded her story and looked to me for confirmation.
I questioned the parts of the story that seemed suspicious.
“When you woke up, you said Elije was already surrounded by light. Why did you think it was a miracle?”
“…Because the divine power was that immense.”
The cleric’s divine power had decreased by nearly 30% after losing her virginity, yet she still possessed considerable strength. However, for the sage, who had observed her closely, to describe it as “tremendous,” it seemed something extraordinary had indeed occurred.
Listening to the story from the side, Barnett said,
“Could it be ‘Incarnation’?”
“I thought the same thing.”
Incarnation is considered the ultimate technique of the cleric class.
By directly receiving God’s Power from heaven, the user temporarily becomes a proxy for the deity—a supreme holy magic.
Every cleric capable of using Incarnation has invariably become a saint, cardinal, or pope, indicating how difficult it is to master.
What makes this magic particularly challenging isn’t just the acquisition difficulty but the fact that it uses the user’s life as collateral.
Sacrifice.
Self-sacrifice.
One of the virtues most emphasized by the Church of the Goddess of Courage.
Even qualified users suffer significant aftereffects, and unqualified users inevitably die upon use.
Judging by the circumstances, it appeared the cleric died as a result of the backlash from using Incarnation.
However, the crucial question remained: who initiated the Incarnation?
If the cleric willingly used it to kill the hero, that would present one set of problems, but if the goddess forcibly incarnated within the cleric’s body to kill the hero, it would essentially prove my hypothesis correct.
This indicated how urgent the situation was for the goddess.
‘This is getting interesting.’
Having heard all I needed, I had no further business with the sage.
As I prepared to leave the dungeon with my chair, the sage asked me in a groveling tone,
“You’ve gotten what you wanted, so I won’t die, right? Big Brother?”
I lazily waved my hand.
“I’ve never cared whether you live or die from the start.”
After all, you lose value once the hero dies.
And even without my request, a competent Demon King would handle the situation accordingly.
Besides, I, as merely a guest, never had the authority to decide the punishment of a major criminal.
After finishing my business in the dungeon, I ascended to the upper floor and asked Barnett,
“Barnett, how do you think the Demon King will dispose of them?”
To which Barnett shrugged and replied,
“Probably lose their heads, right?”
A truly exemplary answer.
