Chapter 285 : Treatment (4)
With a tremendous roar, the mountain collapsed, reverting everything to a state as if nothing had ever existed.
It happened so quickly that not even a scream could escape.
"Unbelievable."
In the silence that followed, Evan's mutter echoed in everyone's ears like a thunderclap.
Yet no one present could easily deny Evan's words.
There were several reasons for that.
Some, like Evan, were awestruck by the phenomenon Ria had caused, but Alon was shocked for a completely different reason.
'The mana… I didn't see it?'
Alon was a mage, and also a fifth-tier mage.
That meant ever since his first battle with the Apostles, he had been able to visually trace the remnants of mana.
And yet, even so, he couldn't see a trace of mana in Historia's sword strike.
It was as if she hadn't used mana at all.
When he turned to look at Penia, she wore the same expression.
A look that said, "How did she do that?"
Even for a swordsman, using mana was a given.
As Alon stood there confused by the unanswered question, he suddenly felt a soft touch around his waist.
It was Historia.
"It's over. Let's go."
Historia showed no sign of exhaustion.
Looking at her, Alon found himself falling into yet another question.
'She's stronger than I thought...'
Alon had known that Historia was strong.
After all, she was one of the seven strongest in Psychedelia.
But the strength she had just shown was far beyond what he had expected.
As Alon stared at her, Historia tilted her head slightly, twitched her ears, and gently unwrapped her tail.
"I'll be right back."
"Where to?"
"There's still someone left."
"...In there?"
Alon glanced at the valley where the dust was beginning to settle—though now, it was so shattered that it could hardly be called a valley anymore—and followed Historia down.
There, they found a man.
A man whose mangled body was pinned beneath a massive pile of rocks.
"!"
Even Alon was horrified by the sight.
The man's lower body had been completely crushed under a boulder many times the size of a grown man and was completely gone.
But that wasn't what shocked Alon the most.
'The Martyr of All Things?'
The Martyr of All Things.
He was the leader of the Martyrs—those who willingly sacrificed themselves—and if left unchecked in Psychedelia, he would eventually awaken as a bizarre entity known as the "Starvation of All Things."
That was who this man truly was.
"Gahk—!"
Thick, dark red blood burst from the martyr's mouth.
He was on the very brink of death.
But there was no pity.
The Martyrs were a fanatical, cruel group.
They would commit mass murder without hesitation if necessary, offering up victims in sacrifice.
They would even burn newborns alive if they saw it as necessary.
Yet, separate from that revulsion, a question filled Alon's mind.
'It wouldn't be strange for a Martyr to be here, but the Martyr of All Things... that's odd.'
He was fully aware that the original storyline had been twisted more than once.
And he also knew that the future he once knew was now completely different.
Still, even taking all that into account, it made no sense for the Martyr of All Things—who should have been in the Allied Kingdom—to be here.
Just as he tilted his head in confusion—
"Damn it—"
The man who had been spitting up black blood now looked up with resentment.
And then—
"If it weren't for those blue eyes..."
A faint voice, full of hatred and grief, trailed off into an ashen tone.
"There's still hope—"
And with that, his last words.
Thud—
Before he could finish his resentful muttering, the Martyr of All Things died completely.
Alon, who had been blankly staring down at him,
"Blue… eyes?"
Quietly repeated the words he had heard.
After dispatching the Martyrs so swiftly, Historia and the others moved straight toward the High Lord.
That night.
"So it's not that she didn't use mana, but that she condensed it to the extreme? And managed to control that purely through technique...?"
"Yeah."
"Amazing...!"
Alon quietly watched Historia explaining her sword techniques to Penia at her request (or rather, insistence).
"Marquis."
"What is it?"
"That beastkin named Historia—she's someone you said you met in the past, right?"
Evan, sitting beside him, asked in a low voice.
"Well... yeah. Why do you ask?"
Evan gave a strange look and spoke.
"It's just that I've seen some of the people you said you met in the past a few times now."
"That's true."
"But doesn't she feel… not as dramatic as the others?"
"I get what you mean."
"Right?"
Indeed.
The people Alon had reunited with so far may not have all been melodramatic, but there was usually some emotional depth to their encounters.
"But still, isn't this about the level you'd expect from seeing someone after a long time?"
"I mean... it's been 700 years. Shouldn't there be something more? I mean, I did see her wrap you with her tail, but still."
"...Yeah?"
"Right?"
At Evan's words, Alon simply shrugged.
"Well, Historia's always been like that."
"Really?"
Alon recalled the Historia of the past.
She had never been very talkative to begin with.
Even when he saved her, aside from a fleeting smile, she was mostly expressionless, and even when she was with others, it was hard to tell what she was thinking.
'Hmm... Still, meeting again after 700 years and brushing past it like that feels a bit shallow.'
Come to think of it, unlike with Magrina or Nangwon, he hadn't had much of a conversation with Historia.
...No, maybe it's more accurate to say he couldn't.
'Historia has always been a one-word answer kind of person.'
Even when spoken to, it was rare for her to respond with more than three sentences.
So maybe that's why it felt like they hadn't had a real conversation.
Still—
"Yeah."
Alon didn't particularly try to have a long conversation with Historia.
Because he knew that, even without doing so, there was no awkwardness between them.
"Time to get some sleep."
After watching Penia and Historia for a while, Alon said this and lay down.
Before they knew it, it was the middle of the night.
Penia, who had been lying with a visibly uncomfortable expression, let out a soft groan and held her lower back as she sat up.
'This sleeping arrangement is awful.'
Though Penia had traveled to many places as the vice-tower master of the Blue Mage Tower, sleeping outdoors like this was rare.
Of course, it wasn't as if she had no experience.
During wartime travels... it had been inevitable.
That time, when she had crossed into the past with Alon, even a carriage was a luxury—they had to sleep on the bare ground.
Still, it didn't make it any easier to get used to.
While looking around at the peacefully sleeping party with a face full of discomfort,
"?"
She soon realized that Radan and Historia were not in their spots.
Penia felt a moment of curiosity.
She instinctively scattered a small amount of mana to catch the faint voices from beyond.
Then she carefully walked in that direction.
After a short walk, she found Radan and Historia, who should've been asleep, standing there.
And then—
"Let me give you a bit of advice."
"?"
"Don't get too close to the marquis."
Penia felt a strange sense of déjà vu from the way Radan was issuing such a serious warning.
'Where have I seen this before?'
Penia struggled to recall the scene.
"Why not?"
"I said don't. Just don't."
"Why?"
"...Because you're not right for him."
As she stared blankly at Radan, who suddenly clammed up as if he couldn't reason with her anymore, Penia finally realized where she had seen this before.
'This is exactly like that scene... isn't it?'
A romance novel she had once read out of curiosity.
It was a classic commoner-meets-noble story, which was precisely why it had been so popular.
In that novel, a noblewoman—having realized her son was in love—threatened the commoner heroine by saying, "My son isn't meant for someone like you, so disappear!"
This moment was extremely similar to that.
The only difference was that Radan was now in the noblewoman's role.
'He's... kind of serious about this.'
Penia found herself wondering why Radan was giving such a "warning" to Historia.
No matter how deeply he cared for Alon, this seemed overboard.
Deep in thought over this bizarre situation, Penia considered a possibility.
'...Could it be?'
She thought of a plausible reason why Radan had called Historia out just to give this advice-disguised-as-a-warning.
'Does he like Historia?'
Penia recalled something from not long ago.
Ever since Historia showed up in front of Alon, Radan had become unusually quiet and kept following her with his eyes.
Come to think of it, Radan had changed a bit since then.
'When it was just us, he was really cheerful, but after Historia joined us, he became oddly quiet. He even had that uneasy look whenever she was near the marquis.'
Her theory, which had started with an "I wonder," now seemed to make more and more sense.
Unconsciously, Penia's mouth fell open.
In truth, it wasn't Historia's proximity to Alon that unsettled Radan.
It was the ominously glowing brooch on Alon's chest.
But there was no way Penia could have known that.
And so—
"...Listen to me. If you stay near him, nothing good will come of it."
"I don't want to."
As she eavesdropped on Radan and Historia's conversation, Penia naturally began forming a plan in her head.
A plan to help Radan.
...More specifically, A perfect plan to help Radan and, in return, gain full access to study the relic he possessed.
Before Radan could say anything more, Historia turned her body and disappeared without a word.
"This is bad...."
Radan groaned and clutched his head like it was pounding.
Penia held back a wicked smile from leaking out and tiptoed away like a sneaky little cat.
And the next day—
"Just trust me."
"?"
"...?"
"You don't need to look at me like that. I know everything. Hehehe~"
Suddenly rushing up to Radan's side, Penia made a dramatic entrance with a mysterious smile.
'...Did she eat something weird yesterday?'
Radan was bewildered inside but subtly turned away from Penia's unnerving gaze.
And then, after about two weeks had passed—
"We're here."
"Ooh~"
Alon and his party had finally arrived at Sunju, the capital of the Eastern Nation.