Chapter 80: Chasing After You

There were two months and a little over left until the “Phantom Night Sacred Festival.” The journey to the Holy Capital, Sasfect, was five days away. However, those five days were only if the journey proceeded along the shortest route without a hitch; in reality, it often took a bit longer.

And then, trouble struck. Due to the daily physical condition issues and lack of sleep, my stamina gave out. Father Dordon and I, having slowed our marching speed in the forest while heading toward the Holy Capital, decided to rest for a while in a log cabin that was off the animal path.

“Hmm. How convenient that there is a cabin in such a place.”

The area within a few meters of the log cabin had been cleared of trees, leaving rows of stumps. Perhaps people like us had used it as a temporary home for short periods in the past. Beyond that, weeds and young trees were overgrown, but when Father Dordon went around clearing them with his dagger, an open space was created in no time.

The inside of the log cabin was lightly dusted; merely pushing the door open caused layers of dust to scatter into the air. It wouldn’t have been a problem if we were only staying for an hour or so, but living there for long would likely have an adverse effect on our health.

“Well then, I shall clean this up. Oakley-kun, you go ahead and rest.”

“Ah… thanks.”

Father Dordon threw open all the windows, cut a piece of the clothes he was wearing, and began wiping away the dust. When I stood leaning against the wall, dazed, he told me, “It’s ready,” and laid me down on the floor. It felt cool and pleasant. The air smelled of exposed wood and damp soil.

“I’m going to go get some food.”

“…………”

As Father Dordon left the log cabin, a sense of loneliness filled my heart in the space that had suddenly turned silent, given that we had been acting together up until now. It seems that even a man like that occupies a part of my heart. Nine times out of ten, it’s probably because I’m mentally weak, but I felt like my spirits would die if I didn’t have acquaintances like Marietta or Dordon by my side.

While lying down, I decided to think about my position and my future actions. By chance, I had fallen into poor physical condition, but I decided to take this as a gift from heaven—perhaps a revelation telling me to think more about myself.

—I still haven’t decided. What do I want to do, heading toward the Holy Capital, Sasfect? I certainly don’t intend to destroy the capital of the Holy Nation of Geluid. I want to reunite with Yoanne, who is contained within this finger, but I have no intention of siding with the Arros Temple Sect. All I care about is Yoanne and the city.

In any case, this finger is causing too much mischief. It keeps pulling me in the exact opposite direction of my own guidelines.

(It’s going in circles, and I can’t decide anything…)

If I summoned the Heretic executives at the Holy Capital, Sasfect, I don’t know how much damage would be caused. Even though I know that, I am still trying to go there. Even though I should have developed a rejection toward heading to the Holy Capital after learning the truth, for some reason, I still think that way.

…No. Could it be that I have been given a suggestion not to feel rejection…?

I jolted my upper body up at the thought that flashed through my mind like a lightning strike.

It would be more convenient to think so. After all, it’s impossible that they would entrust pieces of flesh from three executives, who are presumably the center of their operations, to a person who has lost their memory without any plan. It wouldn’t be strange at all if some sort of insurance for me, or a means of course correction in case I took unnecessary actions, had been prepared.

Dordon had said that the sect leader, Arros, might be able to use such mental-interference magic, and that was even more likely if I had been active enough to be called a candidate for a Heretic executive. It’s better not to trust my own feelings as they are now. The only thing I should believe is facts that can be viewed objectively.

(Thinking of it that way, was that blond monk who accidentally helped me back then a Heretic overseer…? Rex wasn’t even an acquaintance of Dordon’s, so that’s probably it. The means of course correction are scattered in various ways…)

Aren’t I being surrounded more than I anticipated? Mental-interference suggestion magic, and a Heretic there for surveillance and help. I didn’t think they had prepared this carefully.

Organize the information. There must be a way to derail the rails laid out by the Heretics. Because they are too obsessed with me as a person, there should be plenty of ways to make their plan collapse.

Just a little more… something is missing. This feeling of mine that I want to side with the Kenneth Orthodox shouldn’t be wrong. But as things stand, even if I were to offer this body to the Orthodox side, it would end in a futile death.

The reward I can offer doesn’t have enough value to convince the Orthodox executives to stop the bomb. That’s why I need one more step. I have to get one more card for my hand.

(…If my memory comes back, I feel like I’ll have the hand I need.)

If all my lost memories return, information will increase, and my hand will grow. However, there’s no way my memory will conveniently return…

“I’m back.”

“…Ah, welcome back.”

“I’m going to go cut some firewood for warmth. There are many trees around here that seem usable for firewood.”

“I see.”

Just as I thought Father Dordon had returned, he placed the beast he had caught in front of the entrance, and after picking up an axe he had brought from somewhere, he went back outside.

Without thinking, I watched the back of Father Dordon, who was swinging an axe at a dead tree. Every time he swung the axe, his buttocks tightened. It was a terrifyingly well-trained body for his age. A massive body and muscles sometimes give off an intimidating feel. If I were to fight Father Dordon directly, I would likely be pinned down by that giant frame and defeated with no way to counter.

Though we have been treated as allies by default, his physique and experience are indeed a threat. Seeing Father Dordon’s body move dynamically and the fat on his muscles shake, I felt an unspeakable, subtle emotion.

…What am I looking at? Stop it. I don’t want him to misunderstand me looking at him like this. My job right now is to sleep.

Just as I tried to look away from Father Dordon, a sense of déjà vu, a feeling of discomfort, welled up inside me. It was very similar to the sensation I felt that time when I regained my memory in the midst of fear and thirst while fighting the bandit group.

Something glimmered and raced through the vortex of my thoughts. I dug it out. I grasped it firmly so as not to let it escape. Every time the sound of the axe hitting wood echoed, fragments of memory were pulled out from the depths of my heart. The fear, disgust, and trust I felt toward Father Dordon matched those I had felt toward Yoanne in the past, and the synchronized past scenes took on a vivid form and were extracted.

Father Dordon, who stood in a subtle position that could be called neither enemy nor ally, overlapped with the Yoanne of the past. The girl named Marietta who supported my heart resembled the existence of a boy named Alfie I had clung to in the past. Pomett, an Orthodox executive who suddenly came to the church, overlapped with the figure of Stilla, who had appeared when I was bewildered by how to deal with Yoanne and Juanquiro.

Being targeted by both the Orthodox and Heretic camps hadn’t changed then or now, and the anxiety—as if I were getting closer to hell with each passing day—could never be wiped away—

The surging of memories like a muddy stream struck my brain. The past me who was driven to a checkmate and worried about what to do; the weak me who was surrounded by death-laden threats and wanted to throw everything away; the stubborn me who still couldn’t give up on a hopeful future even in such a state; the me who had discarded his attachment to his previous life and made a true resolve to change the world—

I remembered it all.

My memories of my previous life, the secret of my birth—that I was born from a pregnancy sac—my meeting with Yoanne, the tragedy of Metashim and Daskel, Celestia’s fall to darkness, the days at the Northeast Branch… I remembered everything, everything.

“Wha—t a surprise…”

There was a slight gap in my memory. It started right after I retrieved the organ I had swapped with Yoanne. My heart must have been destroyed there, leading to my memory loss. Was it too much of a burden on a normal body to undergo a second organ swap?

However, if I have been able to return like this, there is no problem. There don’t seem to be any unnaturally missing memories, and I have returned perfectly to the me from before.

The final trigger that allowed me to regain my memory was the lowest and worst possible reason: Father Dordon’s buttocks—but it was many times better than heading to the Holy Capital, Sasfect, in a state of confusion.

I trembled and crushed my headache, which was still ringing like a warning siren, along with my hair. I could say that this was truly my last chance to come to my senses. If I had made a decision while lacking information, I wouldn’t have been able to completely crush Arros’s plan.

—If I hadn’t realized that the brainwashed Orthodox executive, Celestia, was at the root of the Holy Capital Raid Operation and the “Sacred Relic” Robbery Operation. At that point, it would truly have been the end.

“—Celestia… I see, she was here…”

The Orthodox executive ranked seventh, Celestia Hot-hound, who was said to be missing. She is the only one who can steal the “Sacred Relic” sleeping in the temple. Conversely, if I could just break Celestia’s brainwashing, this operation would end in a failure so great that recovery would be impossible.

To save the Kenneth Orthodox, I have no choice but to sell myself to their camp. I will show them the fingers on my left hand while hinting at Celestia’s existence, and force them into negotiations. Saving Pomett a year ago has finally paid off.

I can assume she knows who I am, but… if I am a Heretic, my act of saving Pomett a year ago doesn’t add up. If I approach her saying I have something to talk about, Pomett will likely at least listen to me.

My resolve is set. It is also thanks to Father Dordon, who listened to me kindly yesterday. He is a piece of shit I don’t really want to thank, but it is also true that I can rely on him right now. I leaned out of the window and raised both hands toward Father Dordon.

Father Dordon wiped his sweat and waved back with a light air. His cheeks had loosened slightly, moved by the pleasant exercise and my behavior.

“Father Dordon, I have something to talk to you about!! Come over here right now—”

Father Dordon placed the axe aside and strained his ears to listen. My words were cut off because someone was standing behind the old man.

The girl had long, lustrous brown hair and burning, scorching eyes, and a long sword was gripped in her right hand.

“—Marietta…?”

Immediately after I muttered that, Marietta swung her sword down at Father Dordon. Dordon, who reflexively flipped his body to avoid the slash, grabbed the axe while rolling between the dead trees. Surprised by his movements that I couldn’t believe from a 75-year-old, I ran outside and rushed over to Father Dordon.

“Dordon, are you okay!?”

“I’m unscathed. That was close.”

Father Dordon spoke without taking his eyes off the brown-haired girl. The priest, who stood up while brushing off pieces of grass, glared at Marietta while chuckling.

“To swing your sword suddenly is quite the greeting, Marietta. Do you have some business?”

“…………”

The girl didn’t say a word. She glared at Father Dordon with eyes as if she wanted to kill him.

“Oakley-san, it’s okay. Let’s go home together.”

“Are you ignoring me? He is standing at a crossroads in his life right now; a little girl with little life experience like you should back off.”

“Shut up. You are suspected of mass murder. …Oakley-san, please be at ease! I will capture this criminal right here and now!”

“Slurp. Have you forgotten that Oakley-kun didn’t choose you that time? If you think of him, respect that choice.”

The argument heated up, and Marietta’s tone became angry. In contrast, Dordon remained calm, showing the composure to adjust his collar despite the pinch he was in.

“Father Dordon, have you forgotten? I am actually quite strong.”

“That is true. You are stronger than I am. But I have someone I must protect right now. Haven’t you heard? People become stronger when they have someone to protect.”

“Don’t give me that!”

Father Dordon was missing the index finger and thumb of his left hand. If it came down to a pure test of strength, he would surely be at a disadvantage if the fingers on one hand were not complete. Was his confidence coming from experience, or was it a bluff?

However, I had to avoid a battle breaking out here. There was no benefit if the two of them fought. I stepped between Marietta and Father Dordon, and began trying to persuade Marietta to lower her sword, which was bristling with killing intent.

“Marietta, please calm down. …Won’t you put your sword away for my sake?”

“…I can’t.”

“I want to talk.”

Marietta wouldn’t back down. The headache wouldn’t stop, of all times. As I knelt down and pressed the area around my temples, the ring finger on my left hand began to tremble violently.

“…!?”

—That was a premonition.

It was the conviction that that girl was coming.

“Oh, no—”

If she appeared here, all of my plans would go down the drain. Even though I had regained my memory, I would be forced to helplessly miss the chance for the Kenneth Orthodox to win.

I screamed at her in my heart. Please, stop it, I begged. But the girl ignored my feelings entirely and appeared anyway. In order to reach the Apocalypse—the collapse of the world—and the “Small World” that was the girl’s goal, it was likely inconvenient if this operation to raid the Holy Capital, Sasfect, didn’t succeed.

“Ah, ah—”

—Yoanne Sagamix’s ring finger reacted, and a one-sided regeneration began.

Right before Father Dordon’s and Marietta’s eyes, Yoanne’s left arm, made of bone and blood vessels, stretched out into the air. A naked torso, with its surface coated in morbidly white skin and tracing feminine curves, was formed. A slim waist, large dual mounds, and a white body sharpened to a dazzling degree were exposed to the sun. Finally, her slightly long hair grew out, and a beautiful girl who didn’t seem of this world was born.

Having completed the “transfer” in a state of being unclothed from the ring finger that had been forcibly severed, Yoanne rose with slow movements, not even caring about the people around her. While capturing me with her spiral-shaped eyes, she wrapped her thin arms around the back of my neck.

“—Welcome back, Oakley.”

After the girl whispered sweetly in my ear, she planted a deep, deep kiss on me before the eyes of Marietta and Father Dordon, as if to rejoice in our reunion.