Chapter 17

Prologue Thus, the Priest Agonizes “Uuuuuuuuggghhh, why…why did I ever ask for Stephenne? Whyyyyy?” We had just arrived at Golem Valley, yet, in my room at the inn, I was already holding my head in my hands. Not because providing support for the Holy Warrior, Naotsugu Toudou, is particularly taxing. It’s because the newest party member, who I had specially requested, is already posing a massive threat to our mission. Stephenne Veronide. As a holy caster who specializes in communication magic, she is extremely talented and will prove highly useful as a supporting member. In hindsight, I should have expected that she might get lost and be late to join the group. The previous communication support member assigned to the party, Amelia Nohman, was also extremely talented, and as such, I hadn’t anticipated Stephenne to be like this. In all seriousness—who could’ve predicted that such an elite holy caster would be so…completely and utterly klutzy? Mere moments after we arrive in town, Amelia heads off to find Stephenne, looking positively irked as she prepares her tools for communication magic. These items are utterly imperative in order to communicate with the Church headquarters. The signal immediately picks up, and the line connected by the operator is far more crystal clear and void of distortion than when Stephenne does it. The stern voice of my superior, His Eminence Cardinal Creio Amen, soon resonates deeply from my earring. “Another problem with the Holy Warrior, Ares?” “No, it’s Stephenne—” “I have absolutely no intention of hearing any complaints on that matter.” Creio stops me in my tracks before I can even get a word out. Yeah, I know. This is all my fault. When I asked for Stephenne to be sent our way, Creio initially stopped me, claiming she’s a bit of a troublemaker. Yet, I persisted, saying we needed to test her abilities first. However, this isn’t exactly a vacation for me, either. If it is, this is one messed up vacation. There were so many things I wanted to say before the transmission got connected, but the only thing I can manage now is “What’s…her issue?” “She’s Stephenne Veronide. Ah, Ares, I know what you’re trying to say. No need to speak it. She is truly exemplary. Exemplary—but just a touch on the quirky side.” “…Just…a touch?” I’ve met my share of mercenaries who had their own idiosyncrasies, and I’ve obliterated several followers of darkness with more than a few screws loose, but I have no idea if “quirky” indicates whether or not this’ll be a piece of cake. And really, I was prepared to cut her some slack, to an extent. Communication magic is simply that valuable. But really—to an extent. I mean, this is in no way normal. She couldn’t even walk behind and follow her superior. Creio’s voice shifts in response to my question. His tone is gentle, as if he’s giving me a lecture. “Ares. Stey—oh, that’s her nickname—is just a pitiful little girl.” “…Sorry, but that’s not quite the answer I was looking for.” “I see. Well then, this will be a long story, but have you heard the surname Veronide before?” What the hell? I just said that wasn’t the answer I’m looking for, and here you are carrying on! “Creio, there is only one thing I want to ask. I know you just assigned her to us, and I’m sorry—but she really doesn’t seem cut out for this job. I want to send her back. You were right from the beginning, and I understand why you tried to stop me. This is on me. I was in the wrong here, so I’ll send her back. That’s possible, right?” Forget lost—I’d rather she wasn’t here at all. But I can’t just forget about her now that she’s scattered to the winds. I’ve rambled on in my appeal, but Creio’s response is calm. “Of course that’s a possibility, Ares. I had anticipated you’d ask as much.” “Very well. In that case—” Deal with Stephenne. That’s what I thought to say, but then I realize— Deal with her…how? Even if I want to send her back, this region is only inhabited by merchants and mercenaries looking to level up. The unforgiving terrain means that the Church only has a small presence. Giving Stephenne over to them will prove difficult. “…Can I request someone to come get her?” “The only person capable of coming to Golem Valley at the moment is…Gregorio. Would that be all right?” An extreme option—the most extreme of all… Just what would happen if the most utterly insane man I’ve ever met were to come into contact with the most troublesome woman I’ve ever met? …Wait, wait, wait, wait. Relax. Let’s just calm down. I cast tranquility to soothe my muddled thoughts, take a deep breath, and sit down. First of all—that won’t happen. Absolutely not. Okay, I’m calm. I clear my throat and scowl at the door. “Creio, let’s have a productive discussion. Would it be a problem if Stephenne dies?” “Calm yourself, Ares. It seems you are still upset.” He’s right. It’s not like her dying would not be an issue, and even so, I can’t just kill her. “She had two attendants with her. A man and a woman… Barnard and Vilma. What happened to them?” “They left Stephenne with me in Purif and ran off in a hurry. Shit—I should’ve realized then!” I had no idea. I hadn’t even fathomed that such an annoying human being could exist. At this point, I can easily forgive everything Toudou’s thrown at me. At least he doesn’t go and get himself lost! “The two of them have looked after Stey since she was a child. You could say they’re Stey specialists. When she became the new operator, they had no choice but to look after her then, too.” Creio says this with such indifference. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more upsetting in my life. Getting booted from the party for being a male, learning that Toudou is afraid of the undead—could my luck get any worse lately? “Give it to me straight, Creio. All I want is to return Stephenne. Amelia’s at her wit’s end, too.” “Ares Crown—” In response to my desperate plea, Creio’s voice is devoid of emotion, as if he wants to wash his hands of the entire situation. “I will take her back anytime. If you bring her to the Church headquarters, that is. I’m very grateful to you, Ares. You have completed all your assignments thus far with the weight of every adverse situation imaginable on your shoulders. I expect nothing less of you this time.” You think I get a kick out of shouldering so much adversity?! “My head’s been hurting a lot lately. My hair might turn gray from all the stress.” “Ha-ha-ha! Nice joke. Your hair is already gray.” “It’s…silver.” The transmission abruptly cuts out. Just when I thought Toudou was starting to become a bit more manageable, this has to happen. Does God hate me or something? I mean, I hate God, so on some level, that makes sense. Just then, I hear someone’s exhausted voice from outside the door. I guess…Amelia managed to find her. “Ares… I’m back.” “Ow, my hand… That hurts—” It’s Amelia and a raven-haired sister whose hand is turning white from being squeezed so hard. Stephenne Veronide. She’s the newest addition to our party…and already nearly dead meat. Her long black hair accompanies two equally dark eyes. She’s two years younger than Amelia and a whole head shorter. She’s also maybe just a bit taller than Limis, but her breasts are obviously much larger. Her facial features are sharp, and her black hair and dark eyes are a rarity, so they stick out in a crowd. But what sticks out above all else…is her clothing. She’s wearing a black-toned mage’s robe, in a pattern I’ve never seen before. Her robe is much shorter than Amelia’s—practically a miniskirt. Okay, it is a miniskirt. Her pale legs stick out like she’s showing them off. If she weren’t wearing earrings, the telltale sign of a priest, I wouldn’t have believed she actually is one. Long story short—the newest party member is a piece of work. You could say that I should’ve kicked her out the second I laid eyes on her, that my sense of impending disaster is lacking—but really, what can I do about it? She must have realized I was looking—her body stiffens up, but she also smiles, as if trying to entreat me. “I’m—I’m so sorry. I was following behind Amelia, but before I knew it, she just…disappeared.” No, Amelia didn’t disappear. You did. She moves toward me, probably to explain herself. When she realizes her hand is still being squeezed, she looks up at Amelia with doe eyes. Amelia sighs deeply and releases her death grip.