The crowd left behind in the spectator seats was still numerous. Amidst the chaos and screams that erupted when the Holy Sword was lost, the terror of the unknown, liquid monstrosity quickly overshadowed them, plunging them into despair. However, when they caught sight of a group led by the former captain of the knights, Lionel, wielding weapons that radiated light, a cheer erupted as if light had pierced through the darkness.
The people, half-trapped by the eerie mud, unable to flee, watched the sudden appearance of their saviors with desperate hope.
Among the crowd, some noticed the presence of a woman within that group. A few recognized her as the one they had once slandered out of petty jealousy and curiosity, treating her as mere entertainment without a second thought.
As the crowd held their breath, a mixture of hope and despair, anticipation and regret swirling within them, they felt as if everything had come to an end when the group vanished beneath the crumbling floor. Yet, soon after, green vines began to slowly cover the ominous, red-black sea of mud.
Among the crowd, the devout recognized the vines as Ivy and spoke of it as a divine blessing, beginning to pray. As many followed suit, those who felt guilt whispered her name in repentance.
Then, a wondrous event began to unfold.
A young man felt a faint glow emanating from the old bag he held protectively. A thin film of light appeared on its surface, and from that light, vines stretched out, entwining themselves with the red-black slime that ensnared him up to his waist.
“Father…?”
It was the last item his father, a bag craftsman now bedridden, had made for him.
In another part of the crowd, a middle-aged man’s shoes shimmered faintly. The well-polished shoes were cared for daily by his wife, who often said that good shoes would bring good fortune. A noblewoman noticed the necklace passed down from her mother. An old man felt the warmth of the gloves crafted by his grandchild. Another young lord held a handkerchief embroidered by his fiancée.
The light was sparse, yet from various places, vines extended, slowly covering the eerie Undead slime. The subtle blessings that resided in things usually unseen and unnoticed began to manifest.
Noticing the vines extending from the spectator seats, Barbara placed her hand on Flora’s shoulder.
“It seems the blessings of those without marks have been successfully woven together, just as you said.”
“…Yes! We have received their strength!”
Barbara nodded with a radiant smile, then turned to see Agreas, who appeared dazed and expressionless.
“How about it? Surprised?”
There was no response. One of the Black Knights standing beside Agreas suddenly spoke up.
“Lord Agreas, you once spoke of the Undead as an equal power. I know you have been mindful of the knights who remain in the shadows while the Holy Knights are celebrated. Was it not your true intention to challenge a world where contributions are overlooked, and those in the shadows are neglected…?”
“…I do not wish for pointless explanations now. That is merely an excuse. I am not foolish enough to act on such simplistic thoughts.”
His voice, devoid of strength, was flat, and his expression remained unchanged.
“However… I must acknowledge the fact that I too have been ensnared by great power, failing to notice the strength of those who remain in the shadows.”
Agreas murmured as if unconsciously letting the words slip.
“It is inevitable. Praying for safety, praying for peace—such blessings keep hardships at bay. Because nothing bad happens, it may seem as if nothing ever occurs. It is no fault of ours if we fail to notice the blessings present.”
Barbara spoke quietly. Agreas remained silent.
“…When many are exposed to a great threat, the number of those who pray increases, and the power of protection grows, strengthening the guiding light. It is a sad truth that the blessings meant to repel threats can drive people’s hearts to madness due to their overwhelming power.”
From the man who had been so loquacious just moments ago, only silence returned. Behind him, the atmosphere around the rescued high-ranking knights began to sink once more, prompting Barbara to let out a small, lonely sigh.
At the edge of the Barrier, a mercenary stepped one foot outside.
“Oh! I can stand! It feels like there’s solid ground here… But I feel a bit guilty about stepping on Ivy.”
“Do not worry. It is like the earth granted to us to fight against the threat. Besides, it is not something so weak that it would wither underfoot.”
Priest Sidney reassured him, and everyone nodded, stepping forward. Lionel crouched down to examine the vines at his feet.
“These vines provide a foothold and keep the Undead Slime at bay, but it seems they won’t eradicate everything.”
“From here on, it’s our turn, along with Gilbert!”
“We’ll leave this area for later; first, we need to deal with that.”
Standing up, they gazed ahead at the mass of Undead Slime gathering to form a towering, red-black structure. The vines had already reached that far, beginning to entwine around it. It resembled a great tree covered in vines.
“Alright, it’s finally time for our village’s rookie lumberjack to shine!”
Dolf exclaimed cheerfully, while Gilbert turned to him with a serious expression.
“Old man… you’re not talking about me, are you…?”
“Who else could it be? Now, hurry up and let’s chop that down from the roots!”
Flora and Gilbert exchanged glances, sharing a troubled smile. Then, together with their comrades, they stepped onto the vine-formed ground and advanced forward.