As the tremors continued intermittently, Emily felt a surge of panic. Marianne lay half-buried beneath the rubble, her face pale as a ghost, her breaths shallow. No matter how much debris she managed to clear away, the situation showed no signs of improving.
Desperately, she scanned her surroundings for help, but it seemed that anyone capable of moving had long since fled. Then, a thought struck her: the VIP seating area couldn’t be too far away.
For a moment, she hesitated to raise her voice. Just moments ago, she had exposed her own disgrace in front of the king and the nobles, revealing the lies she had woven. Would they even bother to help her now? Doubts and fears clouded her mind.
“Is anyone there? Please! Someone come! Lady Marianne is injured!”
Despite mustering her courage to call for help, no one answered. She couldn’t tell if her voice had gone unheard or if others were trapped in similar predicaments. The realization that she could expect no assistance only deepened her terror. With trembling hands, she reached out once more to the rubble.
“…Just run away…”
Marianne’s voice, barely audible, echoed Emily’s own words. She repeated them in a whisper, but Emily didn’t respond. Instead, she glared at the heavy boulder that refused to budge, fighting back tears. Knowing she couldn’t move it, she instead raised her hand toward Marianne’s body, buried beneath the debris.
She understood all too well that she couldn’t use Healing Magic anymore. Yet, she couldn’t stand by and do nothing. The despair of realizing that nothing was happening overwhelmed her, and tears began to spill down her cheeks. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to leave this place.
──…Please, Goddess. Just this one person, just for now. Please…
Those words spun endlessly in her mind, and her vision blurred with tears.
“…Why bother with something so futile? More importantly, hurry…”
“Shut up! Just be quiet!!”
She shouted without thinking, then lifted her tear-streaked face to look at Marianne.
“I’m not strong enough to just leave someone I know to die!”
She couldn’t bear the thought of a life ending right before her eyes, nor could she abandon it. This was Emily’s last shred of conscience, and at the same time, it was a weakness that felt like an excuse.
“If you regret using me, if you feel bad about it, then live! Stay with me! You know I can’t do anything on my own, right?!”
She was painfully aware that her words were a jumble of desperation. But this was the raw truth of her weak and miserable self, and she felt that Marianne would understand.
After shouting, she raised her hand again. She couldn’t remember how she had used Healing Magic before. Yet, she had been able to use it, even if only weakly. In her heart, she apologized to the Goddess and desperately prayed that Marianne’s life wouldn’t extinguish here.
Gradually, a faint light began to glow at her fingertips.
“…What a troublesome child. Even so, you had the potential to be a priestess, even as an apprentice.”
The Healing Magic she managed to activate was feeble, and she couldn’t tell if it was truly sustaining life. Yet, Marianne’s voice was clearer than before. Still, the reality of how little she could do filled Emily with anxiety rather than relief. Sniffling, she looked around once more, hoping to find someone who could help.
The corridor surrounding the back of the audience seats was wide open, with large windows that revealed the Arena beyond.
The Arena looked like a sinister lake, spreading with dark, viscous liquid. In the distance, something resembling a strange covered carriage was moving across the area where the floorboards were still visible.
The carriage tipped over, and people were thrown out through the skylight. Among the figures that stood up, Emily felt a flicker of recognition for one of the women.
──I’ve seen that person somewhere…
Her memory wasn’t clear. They hadn’t spoken, but there was something about the woman’s face that even Emily, with her poor memory, could recall. Soon, she watched as unfamiliar knights began to fight against them, and before she knew it, vines began to grow around them, as if to protect them.
The vines, appearing alongside the faint light, seemed almost sacred. At the center of those vines stood the woman she had just seen.
The words Marianne had spoken—about having “betrayed the real one”—flashed through Emily’s mind. Those words, the scene she had just witnessed, and the familiar face of the woman began to connect in her thoughts.
Emily turned back and knelt beside Marianne once more, grasping her hand desperately.
“…Lady Marianne, please tell me. When you said I betrayed the real one… could it be that woman is…?”
Marianne’s eyelids fluttered open slowly. With a face pale and glistening with sweat, she managed a faint smile.
“Flora Cadira has come…?”
With that weak voice, Marianne provided the answer to everything. It was exactly as Emily had imagined, and she finally understood the words Marianne had spoken about “another sin.”
Sitting there, tears streaming down her face, she felt all strength drain from her body. Despair seemed to crawl up from the floor, wrapping around her.
──You thought I could do nothing, didn’t you…
In the past, she had looked down on Marianne. She had thought of her as a woman of far lesser worth than herself. Thus, she had felt no hesitation in taking Elliott, her husband, without a second thought.
──That woman… wielded the Holy Sword? That woman was protecting Elliott…?
In the midst of glory on the battlefield, she had fallen in love, unaware of whose prayers had supported her. She had trampled upon it all.
──The Holy Sword of Elliott has vanished…
It was her fault. The realization sent tremors coursing through her entire being.
“…I’m sorry…”
The words slipped from her lips in a daze, but then she recalled something a low-ranking knight had said to her long ago.
“A mere apology seeking forgiveness is nothing but a nuisance.”
A voice echoed in her ears. She had lost even the words to plead for forgiveness, and breathing became a struggle. It felt as if she had fallen into a pitch-black abyss, and she clung to Marianne’s hand as if it were her lifeline.
Just moments ago, she had prayed desperately, and the faint Healing Magic she had managed to conjure now forced her to confront reality.
──That woman did it for Elliott…
How long had she prayed? How much time had passed? It felt like an unfathomably vast weight, something Emily couldn’t even begin to comprehend. She had ruined it all with her foolish actions.
Part of her wanted to scream and run away. Yet, she couldn’t move. Another part of her insisted that she must not flee.
──I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Words she couldn’t voice echoed endlessly within her. She felt she had to atone, but without knowing how, all she could do was cling to the present and not run away.
Marianne’s hand squeezed back, and that was the only thing anchoring her to this moment.
Eventually, footsteps approached, and knights bearing black shields along with clergy members arrived. They helped Marianne out from the rubble, yet not a single one of them blamed Emily. That, in turn, was even more painful.