“Huh—? Wha—?! Aah—!”
It was a short while after the Hero had carried Alicia away in a panic. I’d finished healing my own wounds, and I was about to start on restoring the cathedral before I lost my vision completely. As I looked around, assessing the damage, a woman emerged from the shadows.
“The Deathwatcher—Veil Croitzen, was it?” I asked.
“Eh, just forget it. That’s not my real name, and the alias was stupid too. I just realized she was making fun of me,” she replied with an air of discomfort.
The shadows obscuring her were gone, and I could see the face of the human underneath. She was elegant, with a trace of youthfulness still, but her eyes had an off-putting glare. A virtuous woman with a villainous mien, one might say.
“Oh? I rather like it, personally. Veil Croitzen, the Deathwatcher—it’s quite imposing.”
She stared back at me. “Damn, you’re pretty messed up yourself.”
She slowly approached me, holding the Hero’s discarded sword in her hand. Her eyes were devoid of emotion.
“If you wish to kill me, could it wait until I’ve finished repairing the cathedral? Also, if you’re willing, I’d appreciate if we could move elsewhere—I’d prefer to die in a place where she won’t learn of it.”
I understood that I was in no position to demand anything, but I wished to make a clean exit if I could.
If I disappeared, they’d likely declare that girl a saint in my stead; the world would be better off for it, I imagined. Her face was cold and unfriendly at first glance, but when she smiled, she was utterly adorable—lovable, even, and every bit befitting of a bride. She could carry the title of “saint” just as easily.
“Please... Would you grant me that?” I asked beseechingly.
The killer looked at me with a hint of surprise. “I thought you could read minds and shit, couldn’t you?”
“Curiously, with my vision restored, I find myself unable to see into the minds of others. It was only after the light left my eyes that I gained this power to begin with, after all. As I am now, I have no notion what sorts of torments you intend to inflict upon me.”
“Oh, it’ll be nasty. You’re gonna beg me to kill you, and I still won’t let you die until I’m through.”
“Rightly so,” I replied. “Sinner that I am, I deserve no less.”
Robbing a person of their past was equivalent to ending their life. In theory, I could still make them recall the memories I’d erased; but all the same, I’d taken the lives of countless children while presenting myself as a paragon of virtue. Even the flames of hell would be too gentle and mild for one such as myself.
“The fuck am I supposed to do with that? C’mon, struggle and scream a little, dammit.”
“I’m afraid I’ve simply grown weary of this long, unending nightmare.”
No matter how hard I wished, I would never be able to save the world. No matter how long I prayed, there was only so much I could accomplish. If I’d been capable of averting my eyes from the lives that slipped through my fingers—saving only those I was able to save, and letting that suffice—then perhaps I would have made myself a queen far more easily.
“So it’s all right. I’m ready. Although it does pain me to abandon that girl after she promised we’d shoulder the world together...” It was almost farcical how easily I was able to face my own death with a smile, but strangely, I felt no sorrow. “I know I can trust her to carry it on.”
I’d leave her all of my unfulfilled dreams—dreams of a world where no child would be born to a life of suffering. She would bring them to fruition by her own hand; somehow, I was certain of that.
“I could try to claim that this was the will of the Gods, but I imagine she’d be quite upset with me.”
I was merely the Holy Saint. I couldn’t hear the voices of the Gods. All I was able to do was hear out the voices of people. Granting their prayers was another’s responsibility. Even that simple truth had been invisible to me.
“I mean, sounds pretty normal to me,” the Deathwatcher said. “Everyone’s got regrets, and we all gotta live with them. If you ask me, regretting your past just means you’re still alive.”
As the shadow approached me, I closed my eyes. I prepared myself for the end. But...
“Live, dammit. Keep living until you settle your regrets.”
The shadow walked right past me, tossing down the Hero’s sword at my feet as she strode toward the cathedral doors.
“Are you certain?” I asked. “I am still—”
“You’re a human now, right? I don’t kill humans—only demons.”
Nonplussed, I stared at her retreating back.
“If that’s the case, then would that not make you a demon now? Just who was it who said that killing humans is what demons do, hmm?”
“Look, bitch...”
I chuckled softly, returning my gaze to the ruined cathedral.
“I suppose we’ve both made missteps, haven’t we?”
“Yeah, guess so,” the Deathwatcher replied. “But tonight saved me, just a little. I’m not as bad as you, but I was getting fed up with this shit too. So finding out there’s demons out there who’ll listen to reason—that saved me.”
“I thought I was a human, was I not?”
“Shut up, dammit. I’ll kill you.”
Despite her threat, her voice held no hint of violence. Her next words to me were sharp and cutting, though.
“You stole someone important from that bride. Don’t ever forget it.”
“I understand that fully,” I said slowly. The past would always follow me. My sins would not disappear. “I was always prepared to carry that burden.”
“I’ve got my eye on you, got it?”
“Indeed. By all means, please continue watching me.”
I was unable to read her thoughts, but I could tell what she was feeling. Today, both of us had been reborn—carrying our pasts with us intact.
“However hellish this world may be, I vowed that we would make our way through it together.”
Just like that bride.