Capre’s Denial

The fact that he had been pretending to be a mere bow all this time was utterly absurd.

The reality that he could read my innermost thoughts was completely infuriating.

Furthermore, because I absolutely needed to hear the true nature of his conversation with the wolf demon, I continuously called out to Arjen within my mind.

Arjen remained completely silent.

Since my body was thoroughly exhausted and badgering someone who refused to respond didn’t suit my temperament, I quickly gave up.

With Lamierre’s careful assistance, I lay back down on the ground.

The moment I let go of my grip, Arjen’s bow dissolved and vanished like melting ice.

“By Black Dragon, you mean Lord Arjen, right?”

Lamierre, who had taken his spot right by my head, questioned softly.

“Yeah…”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?”

“That’s right.”

“Then how…”

Well, I don’t know the answer to that either.

I stared blankly up at the sky.

The situation on the ground was an absolute disaster, but the sky was pristine and clear, making the stars exceptionally visible.

I gazed at the stars scattered like fine grains of salt and the two moons suspended in the far corner of the sky before closing my eyes.

“But, Your Highness. What did you talk about with the demon?”

“You didn’t hear it?”

“No. It was just a low, buzzing noise…”

As I shifted my body, Lamierre adjusted a makeshift pillow made from a folded blanket beneath my neck.

I debated whether to tell him about the conversation between the demon and Arjen but decided against it.

It felt like a topic that shouldn’t be discussed openly, and I had a feeling it was a truth that mattered only to me.

“He told us to sleep peacefully. At least for tonight.”

Lamierre placed his hand gently onto my forehead.

“That is a relief.”

Feeling his touch smoothing out my hair, I finally allowed myself to drift into sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, my body felt considerably more comfortable.

I realized why the moment I saw Lamierre, who was smiling at me with a deathly pale, gaunt face.

He had poured his mana into me all night long.

We would have to walk the entire day today, and there was no telling when monsters might swarm us again, so it would have been wiser for him to conserve his strength.

However,

“I hope you do not cry today.”

Hearing those words, I couldn’t bring myself to deliver a harsh retort telling him to take care of himself first.

I simply mirrored his smile and reached out to pat his hair.

“Thank you.”

Lamierre merely shook his head rapidly before bounding up from his spot.

The rest of the group was in the thick of preparing breakfast.

Despite our frantic escape, it seemed someone had managed to pack jerked meat, allowing us to have at least one meal a day even on this fifth day of our flight.

I couldn’t eat anything due to the hole in my stomach, of course.

Since healing magic was practically being funneled into my system, I didn’t even feel the need to consume food anyway.

At any rate, it was a fortunate turn of events.

Perhaps because everyone had managed to catch a decent night’s sleep, or perhaps because actual food was available, the quiet and gloomy atmosphere that resembled a funeral home had improved slightly.

The low murmurs of people conversing with those beside them drifted over.

Instead of focusing to understand the contents of their dialogue, I let the sounds wash over me as pleasant background noise while I sat up.

“You should remain lying down.”

Sir Jager spoke, melting snow inside a helmet balanced over the fire.

“My back… was hurting. Camping out in the wild is truly not meant for human beings.”

“You must be feeling significantly better.”

“Huh?”

“Yesterday, you lacked even the strength to complain.”

Without answering, I stared at Lamierre’s back.

Sir Jager turned his head to follow my gaze, letting out a faint chuckle.

“It seems that young fellow will receive a countship before I do.”

Not a chance. I am going to make Lamierre the Master of the Magic Tower.

Keeping that thought strictly to myself, I extended my hand.

Arjen’s bow manifested instantly, settling firmly into my grasp.

Cradling it against my chest, I called out to Arjen once more.

It was late in the morning, when the sun had risen high into the sky, that Arjen finally delivered a response.

The pristine snowfield reflecting the brilliant sunlight was blindingly bright, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut while continuously murmuring Arjen, Arjen like a repetitive mantra.

I dozed off, woke up, and resumed calling his name until the answer finally arrived.

‘Cease your calling.’

Well, you wouldn’t answer me, so what else was I supposed to do?

‘I had matters to ponder.’

Do ghosts actually think?

‘…’

At my dry humor, Arjen sank back into silence.

Ah, right. You mentioned you weren’t a ghost. Then what exactly are you? You said you would explain it to me. Are you perhaps sulking?

‘I am not.’

Arjen let out a heavy sigh—do ghosts even possess breath to sigh with? When I mocked him mentally, he let out another heavy sigh before speaking.

‘I do not comprehend why I remain anchored within this bow either. There is absolutely no reason for this world to require the fragments of my incomplete memories.’

Concluding with a mere I don’t know feels incredibly insincere and unfair, don’t you think?

‘What am I supposed to do if I truly do not know?’

Well, that much was true.

‘However, I do have a suspicion.’

What kind?

‘You.’

Huh?

‘This is nothing more than a hypothesis, so do not take it to heart.’

In a perfectly calm, measured tone, Arjen began to share the thoughts he had been processing.

The reason the Black Dragon Arjen had left a ‘memory’—the version of Arjen currently conversing with me—within the ruins was solely for Rotty, the proof of his love.

Therefore, Arjen should have vanished completely after entrusting Rotty’s protection to me.

Yet instead of fading away, Arjen had been absorbed into the bow.

Arjen murmured that ‘the world itself seems to require my presence to ensure its continued existence.’

“What on earth does that mean…”

“Pardon?”

As I muttered aloud, Sir Jager, who was currently carrying me on his back, questioned.

“It’s nothing. I just have some things to think over.”

“If you feel any discomfort, please let me know immediately.”

Sir Jager carefully checked on my condition before shifting his gaze back to the path ahead.

Clutching Arjen’s bow tightly, I refocused entirely on our mental dialogue.

‘I believe you are the core issue.’

What did I do?

‘The shadow demon stated it plainly. You are an existence that should have died.’

…

‘The priest’s ■■■■ is Capre’s ■■■■ ■■…’

I can’t hear you.

‘I had a feeling it would be like this.’

The fact that he was acting as though this were perfectly natural was incredibly grating, prompting me to vigorously rub the wooden frame of the bow.

Arjen quickly stopped me, stating that while he was anchored within the artifact, the bow itself was not his physical body, so I should cease my useless actions. That only made him more irritating.

“Monsters spotted at the rear! The count is twenty… no, thirty!”

Sigret, who was bringing up the absolute rear of our formation, shouted.

I scanned the sky once and then the blinding snowfield before sliding off Sir Jager’s back.

With a hardened expression, Sir Jager offered a solemn bow toward me as I sat down in the snow.

Watching his retreating back as he rushed forward to intercept the monsters, I questioned Arjen.

Can I shoot an arrow?

‘You will die if you do.’

Ah… well, we can’t have that.

Whether it was because everyone had grown accustomed to the combat after days of exposure, or because the weaker individuals had already perished, the group was holding their ground remarkably well.

With barely ten swordsmen and two mages, they were successfully containing the monsters. In fact, they were winning.

“Support on the left!”

“D*mn it, handle your own side!”

The rough shouts of the knights echoed out alongside Sigret’s commanding voice.

“My casting is complete! Sir Jager, fall back!”

Listening to Sigret conduct himself like a proper, accomplished mage, I idly ran my fingers over the bow.

‘Kaian.’

Just as I was thinking that firing a single arrow might provide some actual assistance, I bolted my head up. Arjen spoke in a deeply grave tone.

‘It would be best if you refrained from utilizing this power as much as possible.’

Why? Because I am a priest cast aside by his own god?

No answer returned to meet my silent question.

Once the tide of battle shifted heavily in our favor, the monsters began their retreat.

How much of my thoughts can you actually read?

‘Only the ones you actively direct toward me. I cannot read everything, so do not worry.’

The lingering resentment in my mind faded slightly. I nodded gently while stroking the handle of the bow, addressing him internally once more.

From now on, listen to my deductions. If I happen to misunderstand something, correct me. Surely you can manage at least that much.

After a moment of deliberation, Arjen replied.

‘We shall have to see, but very well.’

The title priest seemingly denoted an individual who had inherited the dragon’s blessing in its absolute purest form. The demon had referred to me as a priest and Lamierre as a believer.

An abandoned priest. This likely referred to the ultimate fate of the ‘original Kaian’.

Kaian was originally destined to die at the age of twenty, never allowed to witness the full bloom of spring. While the original Kaian perished due to a frail constitution, the reason he was born weak was… because Capre never desired a ‘sacrifice’.

‘You ■■ ■■■ ■■■■? ■■ ■■■■■.’

Arjen. What exactly is a sacrifice?

‘■■■ ■■ ■■■ ■■■■.’

You are completely useless, you know that?

‘■■■ ■■■ ■ ■■■.’

Be quiet and let me think for a moment.

‘■■■ ■■■■!’

I should have died just like the original Kaian, but because Kallios deviated from the original plot and saved my life, I am still drawing breath to this day. The reason you advised me to ‘refrain from utilizing this power as much as possible’… is it because Capre actively desires my death?

Arjen had previously stated that the fundamental duty of this power was to protect.

However, if the being who bestowed that very strength—the Dragon God Capre himself—refused to acknowledge me, that ‘duty’ would inevitably warp.

It would indeed be best to avoid using this power. While I would undoubtedly feel desperate whenever faced with such dire circumstances, there was nothing to be done.

By the way, can you alter the shape of this weapon into something else?

‘■■.’

Completely incompetent.

‘■■ ■■■ ■■■■…’

But you see, Arjen. I can’t hear your voice at all anymore.

It was a shame since I had numerous details left to verify.

But what’s done is done… and knowing the truth wouldn’t alter my current reality anyway, so let’s leave it at this for now.

Staring up at the darkening sky as the sun dipped below the horizon, I let out a long sigh.

Well, whatever. At any rate… did we manage to survive another day today?

“A massive horde of monsters at the rear…”

Apparently not. Sir Jager stopped in his tracks and whirled around.

“Your Highness.”

“…”

I couldn’t muster a response to his call. I began counting the number of incoming monsters before quickly abandoning the effort.

Even a cursory glance suggested there were at least several hundred. Realizing this wasn’t a predicament that could be resolved through mere luck, the residents who had been walking a short distance away from Sir Jager and me hurriedly crowded around my form.

When we initially fled the castle, there were roughly thirty of them, but now, a mere seven remained. Soot-stained, filthy, and hollow-eyed from the sheer exhaustion—they were the fortunate ones who had managed to survive this far.

“Your Highness.”

I… knew exactly why Sir Jager was calling out to me.

If I uttered a single word, Sir Jager would abandon everyone else without a second thought and flee solely with me. Perhaps both of us might manage to survive.

That outcome depended entirely on the knights and mages currently forming a defensive line, alongside these residents kneeling in the snow, buying us an adequate amount of time.

“I think… I can manage to fire about three arrows.”

Sir Jager carefully set me down in the snow before speaking with utmost courtesy.

“I despise love triangles, so let us make it five arrows instead.”

“And you are perfectly fine with a pentagon?”

“That is the kind of heroic tale one passes down through generations.”

Delivering a light shove to the joking Sir Jager’s shoulder, I sent him toward the knights.

Arjen. That demon stated it plainly. It said the world itself actively protects me.

‘■■.’

Then even if I face Capre’s absolute denial, wouldn’t I manage to stay alive?

Arjen offered absolutely no reaction.

I forced my body upright with sheer willpower. My abdomen throbbed with excruciating pain even while staying perfectly still, and my limbs were completely devoid of strength. I had no idea if I could even draw the bowstring properly.

In truth, when I first heard the demon’s words, the very first thought that materialized in my mind was this: Is it possible that I cannot die?

I had no desire to commit a foolish act by wagering my single thread of life to test that theory. However, I had already experienced enough to fully comprehend how thoroughly miserable it was to be ‘merely alive’.

If I were to die like this… I would inevitably regret it immensely, wouldn’t I? Though I suppose one cannot feel regret after death anyway.

Surprisingly, the string drew back smoothly.

Since I am a mere human, I will undoubtedly face death one day, but I came to realize with absolute certainty that this bleak, desolate snowfield was not meant to be my final resting place.

A brilliant smile spread across my face as I watched a deeply familiar, incredibly missed figure charging fiercely in my direction.

Kallios.

I missed you.