| Author: Sasaki Ichiro | Original Source: Syosetu |
| Translator: Mab | English Source: Re:Library |
| Editor(s): Silva | |
“Ah ! Valère, chacun tient les mêmes discours ! Tous les hommes sont semblables par les paroles ; et ce n’est que les actions qui les découvrent différents.”
— “L’Avare (Acte 1, Scène 1),” Molière, 1668
“Ah! Valere, all men say the same thing; all men are alike in their words; their actions only show the difference that exists between them.”
— “The Miser (Act 1, Scene 1),” Molière, 1668
♦♢♦
Now, here’s a question: In front of you is a sturdy door. It’s an ordinary door; in fact, it is neither locked nor magically protected. But what if there was a sign hanging there saying “Do not open”? Would you be able to open it without hesitation?
—This is not a physical issue but a psychological one.
I recall a story from a foreign land where an academic expedition tried to enter a sacred mountain worshipped by a local tribe. The villagers, unwilling participants, were forcibly taken along. The moment they crossed the ‘barrier’ separating the village from the mountain (which was merely a line drawn with stones), the villagers fainted from shock. This disturbing tale, perhaps from a ‘previous life,’ illustrates how significant a psychological taboo can be.
With such thoughts in mind, we were led by the teachers and adventurers along a dimly lit night path to minimize visibility. After about thirty minutes, we arrived at the grounds of the ‘Saint Campbell Church,’ owned by the Saintess Church.
“Welcome. You are safe now. This place is a sacred ground consecrated by Saintess Snow and the Shrine Maiden Princess Clara. The impure cannot approach here. You must be tired. We’ve prepared warm drinks, so please relax and feel at ease.”
The warm smiles and words of the monks and nuns who welcomed us eased the tension of the group. Some male students and attendants collapsed to the ground, while some female students and maids began to cry in relief.
While the kind-faced church members assisted those inside, I noticed a few stern-faced, armed priests hurrying out in shifts.
“Exorcists. They’re probably going to reinforce the barriers around the church, but unlike warrior priests, they’re not really specialists in combat, so don’t expect too much,” Cestlavie explained, noticing my gaze. I appreciated his clear explanation.
“So, we’re essentially in a defensive stance, and if something happens, we’ll have to hold out with the current forces…” A quick look around revealed about twenty adventurers as guards, fewer than ten exorcists, and around ten instructors. With this number of people, protecting fifty students and their associates, plus the non-combatants within the church, seemed a bit uncertain. “It might be wise to inform them beforehand that we can assist if necessary,” I suggested.
Cestlavie, who had fought alongside me before, nodded in agreement. Unlike the protagonists in stories who heroically leap into battle alone to save their allies, in reality, performing solo actions without prior coordination could hinder rather than help.
I don’t know who’s holding the command here, be it the guards, academy instructors, or church officials — However, since both Cestlavie and I are registered adventurers with adventurer IDs, it wouldn’t hurt to report our availability as usable forces.
Just as I was about to walk with Cestlavie to do so, someone grabbed my right wrist and pulled me back.
“Wait a moment! Jill, are you really planning to head towards danger? I’m against it,” Luke said, grabbing my hand and planting his feet firmly as if he’d never let me go.
…Well, I could easily break free from his grip, but still…
“You’re being too reckless. While your desire to help others and your belief that those with the ability should stand on the front lines is commendable, you disregard your own safety and life too much! There are people who care deeply about you and worry for you… you should value yourself more.”
I expected him to oppose from a chivalrous perspective of “protecting weak women,” but this unexpected reprimand made me close my mouth in silence.
Looking over, I saw Eren watching me with pleading eyes.
If he had opposed me head-on, I could have argued back, but being pointed out my flaws and appealing emotionally made it difficult to respond. When did Luke become so skilled in such tactics? Terrifying…
“That’s not quite right,” said Cestlavie, grabbing my other hand and pulling. “Jill isn’t your possession. Do you think keeping her locked away will keep her safe? If you believe it’s okay for capable people to sit idly by in a crisis, then you’re deluding yourself.”
Those words made Luke’s eyes, which usually retained a calm demeanor even when serious, turn cold and sharp.
“…I can’t ignore that. So, do you think you can take responsibility if something happens to Jill? Do you really think you’re qualified to do that?”
“One’s way of life is their own decision. It’s not something others should meddle with, Young Master.”
“I don’t care if you throw your life away for some heroic sentiment, but don’t lump Jill in with you.”
Luke and Cestlavie were at a standoff, each holding one of my hands and pulling in opposite directions. What is this, some kind of Solomon’s Judgment situation?
“Well, aren’t you popular, Jill,” chimed Liselotte, who had followed a bit behind, with a tone that was half amused. “Given the setting, it looks like two rivals fighting over the bride at a wedding.”
Realizing it, we had somehow moved to the church’s door.
“As I mentioned earlier, this church is famous for matchmaking. It’s also known as the ‘Church of Reminiscence.’ They say that couples who pass through its doors together will end up together. So, which one will you take by the hand and walk through?”
“――!?”
I was speechless at her teasing, but then I noticed that Luke and Cestlavie had both stopped arguing. They exchanged wary glances, then looked at me with an expectant gaze.
