Chapter 50: Those Who Can Never Be Forgiven (1)

As soon as our eyes met, my entire body felt as if it had frozen from head to toe.

Brushing off the fur coat wrapped around my hands for warmth, I watched as white snowflakes cascaded down.

If I left them as they were, the floor would soon be soaked, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about such trivial matters.

I infused mana to illuminate the dark mansion, and soon, the surroundings were filled with bright light.

The fireplace flickered from the draft seeping in through the open window. Only then did I realize just how dark it had become outside.

The snow showed no signs of stopping.

Fireworks burst in the sky as if celebrating the occasion.

It was a scene well-suited for a festival, and many people enjoyed the magical fireworks. But the Hero and I could not.

“Hey…”

I spoke quietly, fearing that my voice would be drowned out by the sound of the fireworks.

My voice trembled slightly, lower than usual.

What kind of expression was I making right now? I wanted to see myself in a mirror.

“…What have you done?”

The Hero’s voice wavered with sorrow.

I knew it.

Even now, I understood that this wasn’t something the Hero would do.

The more I let my thoughts swirl, the less I could hear his voice.

Even the tightness in my chest faded.

It was only my name that I could no longer remember.

“This is strange. You’re the only one who knows I’m not from this world, so why am I forgetting my own name? Why?”

“Sera, just calm down, just a little—”

“Do I look like I can calm down right now?!”

I was terrified of this situation.

My memories of the real world weren’t much—just an old, outdated computer and trash scattered around my room.

But even so, that was my real world.

Here, as the Saintess, I held divine power, social status, devoted clergy, and unrestricted access to the grand cathedral.

In my real life, I wouldn’t have even been able to dream of such things.

But in the end, it was all fake.

If I had simply forgotten the name “Sera,” I wouldn’t have cared much.

I was going to return to my original world anyway, and this fake world wasn’t important.

“Sera, how long have you been in this world?”

“…Huh?”

The Hero grasped my shoulders and asked.

“About seven years. When I woke up, I was in an orphanage…”

“…That long?”

“Yeah, I woke up in a younger body…”

In this world, I had spent most of my time in the Holy Kingdom.

The countless prayers and sacred laws I had memorized were all a product of rote education.

But why?

Was that such an important detail?

“Could it be… have you been here for too long?”

“Too long?”

“You’re becoming assimilated into this world. That’s why only your memories of the original world are fading…”

The Hero trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

So, I had been in this game world for so long that my real self was disappearing?

That didn’t make sense.

The Hero had been summoned only a few years ago.

Why was I being affected first?

Was it some kind of forced mechanism?

No, no way… Damn it, does that mean from the very beginning—?

The Hero and I had already decided not to concern ourselves with the game’s story.

The tragic fate where either the Hero or the Saintess had to meet a bad ending—if we kept opposing each other, neither of us would survive.

But what if this was a path that wasn’t meant to exist?

If we had strayed too far off course, maybe the world wouldn’t allow it.

If the world didn’t approve of my efforts to resist corruption, and if it was trying to turn me into a real Saintess—

The thought made my legs give out beneath me.

From the start, was there never any hope for me?

“For now, let’s write down everything you remember each day. That way, we can see if your memories are truly disappearing.”

“Ah… yeah…”

The Hero calmed me down and helped me into a chair.

He suggested that I record everything I could recall about the original world in a diary.

Where should I start?

What should I even write?

I agonized over it before deciding to follow his advice.

I began with the most recent memories and worked my way back, tracing my past like a journey through time.

As I wrote, it became painfully clear just how little I had left my home.

“Uh… is this really all?”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

“No… it’s nothing.”

What was wrong?

Why was he making that expression?

Most of my life, aside from my elementary school years…

I wrote down my memories in the form of a diary, but the Hero’s expression only grew more rigid.

“You really didn’t do anything, did you?”

“Yeah, so it’s fine. Even if my memories keep fading… I’ll return to my original world before that happens.”

I had only forgotten my name, but no one knew what else might disappear when I woke up tomorrow.

Maybe I wouldn’t forget anything more, or maybe my entire existence would vanish, leaving only “Sera” behind.

It would be fine. The only thing missing was my name.

Even if all my memories faded, as long as I defeated the Demon King first, it wouldn’t matter.

I reminded myself over and over again that I still had time.

I clung to that thought, trying to erase the creeping anxiety.

“Sera…”

Sera, who had forgotten her own name.

I spent a long time checking if any other memories had disappeared.

Perhaps exhausted from it all, Sera had fallen asleep, and I carefully lifted her and laid her on the bed.

According to her, she had awakened in this world as a child and spent her early years in an orphanage.

Then, once it was confirmed she was the Saintess, she underwent rigorous education before meeting me.

I wondered if the Demon King sealed within her had anything to do with it, but Sera had never mentioned hearing any strange voices.

“Too many memories are missing…”

I opened the diary where she had recorded her memories of the original world.

Her writing was messy and uneven, but the entries were simple:

Wake up, eat, turn on the computer, and go back to sleep.

It was almost comically devoid of anything about the “outside world.”

No human being can live solely inside a small room.

If someone doesn’t interact with others or experience the outside world, they would eventually lose their mind.

There’s a reason why movies about people locked away for years exist.

Could she have been what they call a “hikikomori”?

That thought crossed my mind, but Sera had grown up in this world from a young age.

That meant these diary entries must have been from her childhood in the original world, but could a child that young really have been confined to a room all the time?

If these were her true memories, then perhaps she had been locked away and abused due to neglectful parents.

But Sera had never given off that impression.

So instead, I chose to believe that most of her memories had already disappeared.

Sera didn’t seem to notice how unnaturally absent the concept of the “outside world” was from her diary.

“How much time is left…? What happens to Sera if all her memories disappear?”

I muttered to myself as I gazed out the window.

Today was December 25th—another year was coming to an end.

How much longer could Sera hold on, having already lost so many memories?

Was it because of the Demon King sealed within her, or simply because she had spent too long in this world?

No one knew.

But I had a feeling I understood what I had to do.

The Demon King was still inside Sera, and according to Selene’s final words, only a fully restored Holy Sword could purify magic without any sacrifices.

For that, three things were needed:

The life of an elf, the breath of a dragon, and the courage of a human.

I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but I had a hunch that I already possessed—or was close to possessing—two of those elements.

Laura had inherited the dragon’s soul, and there was no one in the Hero’s party who lacked courage.

“The White Mirage Forest…”

The only thing missing was the life of an elf.

The elves had cut themselves off from humans long ago, and there was no guarantee they would cooperate with the Hero’s party.

Based on past experiences, I could already tell that going there would lead to more complications.

Even so, I had no choice.

To me, Sera was my light.

When I reached the point where I no longer felt like I belonged to any world, she was the one person who reached out to me.

For the sake of our shared happy ending, whether it was the Holy Sword or the Demon King—everything had to be resolved before Sera lost herself completely.

“Mmm… cold…”

Autumn had ended, and winter had arrived—a season where life withered away.

I pulled a thicker blanket over Sera’s body before turning to look at my reflection in the mirror.

Dark, hollow eyes.

My Enchantment Eyes now carried a power I had never imagined before.

And after using them a few times, I had grown somewhat accustomed to controlling them.

Why had I never been able to control my Enchantment Eyes before?

It was because I had only ever tried to suppress them.

But if it was for Sera’s sake, I was willing to use this cursed power without hesitation.

With that resolve, the Enchantment Eyes finally became mine to command.

If the elves refused to cooperate with me, then I would make them submit with this unforgivable power.

Persuasion was far away, but power was close at hand.

There wasn’t enough time to take the long way around.