“There are those who also act on their convictions.”
It is said that superior elves live for thousands of years, devoting themselves to the study of sacred arts.
Some of these arts transcend human understanding, even approaching the realm of the divine, and are referred to as “divine arts.”
However,
“As long as their achievements are the result of accumulated research, there’s no reason we humans couldn’t accomplish the same… That said, my theory is flawed in its current form, requiring sacrifices. So for now, it remains inferior to their divine arts.”
Even so, it’s a success.
The saintess’s body was transforming into shimmering light particles, starting from her feet and steadily rising upward.
…Yet, if this is meant to dramatize the sacrificial process, it’s unspeakably grotesque and cruel.
It would have been better if it happened in an instant.
Based on my predictions, the time it should take for a human sacrifice to convert into power for a mythic-class Dark Heal is, at most, a few seconds. Certainly not the sluggish, drawn-out process of one or two minutes.
…So why is this encounter with the saintess taking so long?
I have a hypothesis.
“Most likely, our brains and bodies in the real world are under immense strain. After all, to refine you into pure ‘power,’ your life force—essentially, your soul—must first be ‘filtered’ within me.”
This means the saintess suffers the agony of having her soul extracted from her living body, while I endure the torment of hosting two souls within a single body.
“The immense strain and pain we’re experiencing likely elongate what should be a momentary process into something that feels excruciatingly slow—”
“That’s irrelevant!”
The saintess shouted, her voice piercing my ears.
By the time I noticed, her body had already disappeared halfway up her torso.
“Just stop it already! My body’s disappearing… At this rate, I might really die…”
“Indeed. You will die.”
Facing her directly, I stated the truth.
“You’ve realized it by now, haven’t you? You’ve reached a point of no return.”
“…! That’s a lie. It’s a lie, a lie, a lie! That can’t be true!”
The saintess violently shook her head.
“But, but… I’m a saintess!”
“Yes, I know. And also just a human.”
“A mere human!? I am a chosen servant of God!”
“Even so, all living beings die when their time comes.”
“I won’t accept—”
The saintess tried to cover her ears, but her face contorted.
Both of her arms had already vanished.
The transformation into particles of light had now reached her shoulders.
“No! No! I don’t want to die! Am I… Am I really going to die?!”
The saintess screamed as if driven mad, tears streaming down her face. She looked at me with pleading eyes.
“Kiwi Alaya! You must hate me so much! Do you still resent me for persecuting you in the past? If that’s the case, I apologize! Please forgive me! Stop this at once! Oh no! The light is already at my neck…”
“Regrettably, I can’t stop it anymore… Hm? Did you say ‘forgive’?”
“Yes, for all the things I’ve done to you since we were children—”
“This is the first time we’ve met, though.”
“—What?”
I saw the saintess’s eyes widen in disbelief.
Ah, could it be…?
“Have we met somewhere before? If so, I apologize. Your name was… Artemis, wasn’t it? I’ll remember it.”
I bowed my head sincerely.
Then I gazed directly into Artemis’s eyes.
“I will never forget you. You are the ‘pitiful victim’ of my inhumane Dark Heal, and also a valuable experimental subject. I swear to cherish the data I gained from you, along with the guilt, and etch it into my heart.”
“Ha──aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!?”
The saintess’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth as if it might tear apart, screaming with such force that it seemed her throat might rupture.
“Pitiful… You dare call me a pitiful victim!? How far will you go to mock meeeeeeee!? Kiwi Alaya! I will never forgive you! Kiwi Alaya! Kiwi Alaya! Kiwi Alayaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
“I have no need for your forgiveness. I am an unforgivable existence.”
“One day, divine judgment will surely fall upon you! Go to hell! There, your limbs will be torn apart, your eyes gouged out, your flesh burned, and you will still not die, suffering endlessly for all eternity! And then—”
The saintess’s words faltered as her mouth began to disintegrate into light particles.
Yet she continued to glare at me with anger and bloodshot, tear-filled eyes.
“Hell, huh? If it truly exists, then so be it.”
I nodded at the saintess.
“I will follow you there shortly. So, wait for me in that place.”
Her eyes, her tears, her hair—all of it turned into tiny particles of light, dissolving and vanishing into the darkness of this world.
I then felt my consciousness being rapidly pulled upward.
It seemed the “filtration” of the soul was complete… The preparations were done.
…Then let’s proceed.
“Dark Heal.”
The moment I murmured those words, the dark world abruptly came to an end.
A massive pillar of black light stood before me.
Its identity was the Dark Heal. Immense magical energy rose skyward like billowing steam.
“Wh-what… What the hell is that!?”
The voice of the hero Ares echoed in bewildered shouts from the front, piercing my ears.
…It seemed my consciousness had successfully returned from the mental realm to the real world.
That said, I felt awful.
My head throbbed with a pounding ache.
I felt as though I might vomit at any moment.
“I didn’t think it would place this much strain on my brain…!”
Something warm trickled from my nose. It was a nosebleed.
But I couldn’t abandon the Dark Heal midway.
When I turned around, there lay the lifeless saintess Artemis, her eyes rolled back, no longer breathing.
To not let the sacrifice of this pitiful victim go to waste, I had to at least fulfill my own purpose.
“Dark Healer! What have you done to Artemis!?”
The hero Ares raised his holy sword and leapt at me.
I didn’t have the strength to dodge.
No, even if I were in perfect condition, I likely wouldn’t have been able to evade it.
But that aside—
“If possible, could you protect me—Shes?”
Shes, who had been kneeling before me, stood up and parted her blood-red lips.
“—Of course, Master.”
Her once-lifeless silver hair shimmered as it flowed in the air.
Her body bore no wounds inflicted by the hero.
Her skin radiated vitality, and her eyes, now a vibrant jade green, glimmered with resolve.
“No one shall touch my master. Even if it costs me this second life of mine.”
Then, wielding a rusted holy sword, she intercepted the hero’s strike, twisting her body to deflect the blow, and delivered a powerful kick to his abdomen.
Caught off guard, the hero Ares was sent flying to the side.
