The Paladin’s Woe

——Congressional Meeting, the Republic of Edogawa.

Edogawa was a rare example of a republic among nations of royal rule. Of course, they were far from the more modern iteration which held national elections and gave all of its citizens a vote. The Republic of Edogawa was run by those dubbed “the Noble Quartet,” in addition to a merchant company that had been in cahoots with them for ages. Every two years, the leader of the nation changed from one representative to another, but none of them ever held absolute power. They were simply a politician that made appearances once in a while to mediate internal squabbles or deal with diplomatic hiccups. Edogawa enjoyed the luxury of a rather relaxed atmosphere, while the other Northern Nations were long at war.

The Noble Quartet were in discussion, each of them with bitter looks on their faces.

“Slaves from Hellion territory... That’ll be a handful.”

“Why are they being sent to our nation, anyway? We already have the mess from that Invasion to take care of.”

“Give them the boot as quickly as possible.”

“Fortunately for us, the Paladin is combing through their backgrounds.”

“That one. Certainly good timing for us.”

They liked to call their lackluster discussions ‘congressional meetings,’ although they all looked as though they wanted to get these pesky annoyances dealt with as quickly as possible. The leader of the republic, who happened to be the chairman of the merchant business, kept his head down without saying a word. Of course, as a figurehead, he never made any difficult decisions when troubles arose. If he did anything to impact anyone’s profits, he would suffer retaliation when they became the next leader. In the end, he had to resort to a wishy-washy attitude that gave neither significant advantages nor disadvantages to anyone.

“It has nothing to do with our country, after all.”

“Indeed. Imagine the mess we’ll be in if this puts a target on our back for the Hellions.”

“The Paladin is here. Why don’t we toss them over to the Tzardom? They’re the ones chanting for the salvation of the commoners.”

While this proposal might have sounded unkind, other nations would have kicked them all out without any explanation, or even dealt with them in an unsavory manner. There was no nation on the continent who would volunteer to take in a mass influx of people with unknown backgrounds, even if they could afford to.

“Cleaning up the Bastille Dungeon is a more pressing matter. The Invasion has driven off business.”

“Yes, that is in fact more pressing.”

“The aid to rebuild the city is costing us an arm and a leg...”

“Dungeon, posh. What is it but a cesspool of thugs? None of it matters if we lose our actual business.”

With the slaves off their minds, the meeting moved on to the next item of its impromptu agenda.

Also unique among the Northern Nations, Edogawa shared a border with Animania. As no one wanted to take over a land under constant threat of demi-human invasion, it was seen as a sort of dam against military pressure. As a result, Edogawa had become a safe haven during war seasons. One could call it a Switzerland, or more like a vacation destination. The wealthy individuals of neighboring nations enjoyed some time off during war seasons, and only returning to their home countries when wars were on hold. The money that those wealthy tourists dropped on their vacations served as vital income for Edogawa.

The Invasion had completely thrown a wrench in that income plan this season, much like a large-scale terrorist attack would do to any tourist destination.

“Why don’t we isolate the city of Rookie and that fortress on the border?”

“I second that. We can’t let such places drive business away.”

“Lockdown? Why not? Sounds like a plan to me.”

Sacrificing a piece of their nation was a small price to pay for maintaining their flow of wealthy tourists. The Noble Quartet had no use for new adventurers nor their little dungeon.

Finally, the leader spoke up in protest of this proposal. “A moment. If we lock down those locations, we would be advertising that our nation is in danger. This is a problem that won’t just go away if we sweep it under the rug.” He seemed to want the income from the adventurers. As a leader of the merchant industry, he definitely didn’t want any part of the nation cut off.

The Noble Quartet wore expressions even more bitter than before. Quickly, they found another target for their blame.

“Look at the damage we’ve suffered while that Paladin was in the area!”

“Well said. Accordingly, the city is half in ruins.”

“The Tzardom’s philosophy is all talk. We all know that.”

“Aren’t the slaves here because of the reputation of the Paladin? Naturally, the responsibility should fall on the Tzardom.”

The meeting continued spiraling. In short, they had no real solution in mind for the problem, nor the motivation to find one. All they wanted was for their tourism to return to normal.

“We must bring business back to normal. Inns from around the country have been buzzing in my ears about it.”

“At this rate, most of our valuable import foods will rot in storage.”

In any world, the wealth of the people directly led to tax income. All at the table were desperate to restore their bottom line.

“I have an idea... What if we distribute a meat voucher to every tourist who comes in?”

“Meat voucher...?!”

“Indeed. A certificate one can exchange for a serving of meat. Give them an extra oomph for their buck.”

“A splendid idea!”

“Wait a minute! We have to give out a fish voucher, too! My land has most of the nation’s fishermen.”

The leader wanted to groan. No amount of vouchers would solve their tourism problem, since everyone who came to Edogawa longed for security, not protein.

As the meeting further devolved and all in attendance began to look exhausted, the leader spoke quietly, “First of all, the slaves will be the Paladin’s problem. Of course, that may cost us some goodwill with the man...” His comment was met with begrudging agreements around the room. As much as they liked to complain, they didn’t want to make an enemy out of the Paladin renowned throughout the continent. They certainly didn’t want him refusing to aid them during the next Invasion. “In fact, we should advertise with grandeur that the Paladin is staying in Edogawa, to assert to current and potential tourists that our nation is as safe as it always has been.”

“I second that suggestion. But what of the slaves?”

“Why don’t all of us here, including myself, chip in for a relief fund to give to the Paladin? He will take care of the issue without a scandal.”

“So, we contribute in funds only... That seems the appropriate compromise.”

With that issue settled, they had another urgent matter to discuss: the man who called himself the Demon Lord, who had eradicated all of the monsters during the Invasion. For the congress of Edogawa, he seemed more threatening than the problem he solved.

“I’ve heard he cast an incredible spell that eliminated all monsters there, even those within the dungeon...”

“You don’t seriously believe that? I’ve never even heard of a spell like that.”

They knew that chaotic battles could lead to tales of hero figures and myth-like war stories. History was rife with ungrounded tales, but in this case, another unbelievable tip seemed to back up the story.

“In Suneo, he took on an angel—”

“That’s just what the Tzardom calls it. It’s a variation on a golem.”

“Some regions called it a ‘mock angel’...”

“It doesn’t matter what it’s called! Why did that man come to our nation, anyway?!”

The meeting resumed its devolving spiral. None of them had ever seen or spoken to the Demon Lord, after all, and speaking based on assumptions wasn’t going to do them any favors.

The leader proposed as neutral of a solution as he could think of. “In any case, we know that the man is from the Village of Rabbi. We should send a messenger to scope out his intentions. We are also in a position where we are obliged to make a formal show of gratitude.”

The rest of the congress shared a look at one another before agreeing to that, then rose from their seats in an apparent dismissal. The leader, too, rolled his shoulders as he wasted no time getting out of the room.

——The city of Rookie, Republic of Edogawa.

The city was overflowing with people, most of them the unsavory type. After Rookie suffered a devastating blow from the Invasion out of the Bastille Dungeon, the Paladin had taken the helm in steadily restoring the city. The workforce for the task mostly comprised the dungeon-crawling adventurers, dubbed “Rookies.” With the dungeon sealed off for security, the Rookies struggled to find work anywhere else. Adventuring was never a prestigious occupation to begin with in this world, mostly undertaken by those with no education, reputable family, or money. Those in that kind of predicament adventured if they lived inland, and became sailors if they lived by the water. While some adventurers set out to test their strength, most were simply born as the second or third son to a farmer. Most had no land to tend, no connections to find work in a mine, and not enough brains to work as a merchant.

“Dammit. Another day of shoveling rubble, covered in dirt...”

“Stop bitching. At least it puts food on the table.”

The adventurers weren’t happy with their circumstances, either. After all, if they had any talents or skills that would have allowed them to make a living with a more commonplace occupation, they would have never become adventurers in the first place. Who would voluntarily take a job that involved risking one’s life every day? Furthermore, they would have no means of survival if they were to be seriously injured on the job.

“I heard someone got pinned by a pile of rubble there that came down yesterday.”

“They had to amputate his leg...”

“Lot of guys got their throats or lungs fried by the fumes from those monsters, too.”

Naturally, with the relative lack of medical advancements in this world, a single injury could ruin one’s life. When these men signed up to be adventurers, they traded their safety in for a pack of tokens, ready to gamble with it in the dungeons. Seafarers were betting the same tokens that, on each voyage, their ship would make it across the water. In either case, these lifestyles were far from steady.

Men and women in these desperate situations had flooded the city, which was a grave issue. Only a fraction of them had found work in restoration, leaving most to wander around the streets without any work. With nothing else to do, they drank and gambled pocket change. The number of brawls and assault cases exploded throughout the city despite the restoration efforts.

(One thing after another...) With exhaustion creeping over his expression, Weeb kept moving through a mountain of paperwork. He had always set up camp outside the city whenever he could help it in order to avoid contact with higher-ups, but that wouldn’t cut it this time. He had now rented a meager flat to use as his workspace, and he already had his hands full with distributing tasks and dealing with the rise of crime which resulted when Mynk had brought in a whole new influx of bodies. As he grew more tired, Weeb couldn’t help but recall the conversation that took place at the time.

“They were enslaved in Hellion territory...?”

“Yep. I’m passing you the baton, Big Hero.”

“If-If I may have a moment...! They’re—”

“Black Phoenix within my right eye... Give me wings!”

With that, Mynk had vanished without a trace. Of course, she then returned several times to drop off more people, leaving Weeb to deal with them. Merely asking for the background of the 500-or-so people was arduous enough. Some of them were seriously injured or malnourished, but the medicine men and women could hardly come around, as they had their plates full with those injured during the Invasion. Even the local Temple of Light was filled to the brim with refugees.

Weeb had already requested aid from the Tzardom, to no avail. (Why won’t they do something about this...?!) His grip tightened on the document he had been skimming. Unbeknownst to Weeb, some of the rescued slaves had been first sold off by the Tzardom, which made the higher-ups hope for their death more than their recovery. What’s more, the Tzardom had larger issues to deal with. (When it rains, it pours... But this is a monsoon.) Weeb had already received word of what had happened in the capital of Suneo, which made his heart sink even further. He had heard that a troop from his country retaliated when attacked by a band of Satanists, leaving the capital nearly destroyed. To boot, the Demon Lord had destroyed an out-of-control ‘angel’ with a single blow and astonishing ease. He had even heard a rumor that one of the Holy Maidens had defeated a devil summoned by the Satanists. All rumors warranted a first-hand explanation before believing them, but Weeb couldn’t afford to leave Rookie at the moment.

“M-Mister Paladin...! Lady Mynk is outside the city...!”

“Is it time already? Thank you, Mister Daruma.”

“M-My name’s actually Hummer...”

Weeb rose from his seat. Yet another issue had come crashing down onto his plate. One of the Animadmirals, of all people, had brought in more people enslaved in Hellion territory. A layman’s brain might have exploded at the series of unbelievable events.

“How is Miss Mynk, Mister Daruma?”

“I-I don’t know how to... Something about The Darkness, it all went over my head...”

“She doesn’t change, does she?”

“A-And, my name’s actually Hummer...”

Hummer’s muttering went unheard by Weeb as he entered deep contemplation, dashing Hummer’s hopes of having his name correctly remembered. The nickname had been invented by Akane, then passed on from Mynk to Weeb. Akane certainly shared the Demon Lord’s tendency for inconveniencing everyone around them.

“We are at your service, Sir Weeb!” Three white knights lined up outside of his rental greeted him in unison. They were the White Trinary, a trio of seasoned fighters recruited from all corners of the continent.

Kaiya, the pseudo-leader of the trio, gave Hummer a nasty look before saying, “We’ve heard that an Animadmiral is on its way... Do you believe it, Sir?”

“It’s most likely true,” Weeb answered. “That pair of S-Ranks is involved, after all.”

“Those bitches, always hurling these problems at us...!”

As much as the Trinary griped about it, it was good news for them that the humans enslaved in Hellion territory had been released. The good news simply came at a bad time while they were in a bad place. They cursed, wondering why they were being sent to Rookie of all places. How could a city filled to the brim with its own issues accept a flood of refugees?

“Return to work, please,” Weeb announced to the Trinary. “Make sure there are no incidents.”

“B-But Sir, it’s too dangerous to face an Animadmiral on your own!”

“No need to worry. Mister Daruma will protect me if things go sideways,” Weeb assured them, in a rare attempt at humor.

“Huh...?! M-Me?!”

While Weeb saw no recourse but to make light of the situation, the Trinary pierced Hummer with their eyes.

Weeb started walking away with a wave, and Hummer rushed to follow. The Trinary watched with concern, when Kaiya let his true feelings slip, “The bastard... Buzzing around Sir Weeb like a fly...!”

“Indeed! Who does he think he is?!”

“Trying to whore his way into Sir Weeb’s good graces... Mark my words, they will not share a bed! Not on my watch!”

Ultima and Mushroom chimed in, piling on the slanderous accusations. Of course, Hummer was an average Joe with no ulterior motive, and had just so happened to come in contact with Mynk. After seeing how busy Weeb was, Mynk had casually told Hummer to help him out.

“While I despise the man’s character... His body...” Kaiya’s gaze focused on Hummer’s jiggling handles and posterior. The other two followed his gaze.

“Is rather thick. Quite a sight to watch him leave.”

“I’d prefer a bigger ass.”

Fortunately for Hummer, he heard none of these mutterings.

Outside the city gate, Mynk cheerfully waved at them from some distance away, where she was standing with Olgan. “Over here, Little Paladin. And Mister Daruma.” Olgan, meanwhile, was stoically looking off in another direction. “The leader of the ape-hybrids is almost here,” Mynk added.

“Is he...? Have you met them already, Miss Mynk?”

“I have. We fought together to vanquish a grand evil. But there is always a greater darkness to swallow the smaller,” Mynk chuckled, dramatically covering her right eye without any intentional subtext. Weeb had already learned not to take anything she said too seriously. “And once we hand them over, we’ll be off.”

“This city has been devastated by the Invasion. It can’t possibly take another influx of people.”

“Just ask your country for help,” Mynk retorted.

“Their response was less than favorable...” Weeb gripped his fists in shame.

There was nothing he could do about it. The Northern Nations were engulfed in war, each of them hellbent on shutting out refugees and securing their borders. No nations could afford to support such a large population who would need to be fed and housed, especially in times like these. Even if they could, why would they want to?

While Mynk showed a certain level of understanding, Olgan had stinging words to say. “That’s how your country always is. They cry and chant for the salvation of the poor, but never back it up with action.”

“Hey, Olgan...”

“It would have been better if it remained a mere bystander, since your country spreads war and turmoil throughout the nation. They build temples everywhere to instigate unrest, and propagate a bloody and endless cycle of war.”

Weeb looked at his feet, unable to retort. In truth, the Northern Nations had only been able to wage war as long as they had thanks to the cheap imported food from the Tzardom. Without it, the resources of most nations would have long since dried up, naturally leading to peace treaties and ceasefires. No country could perpetually fight without aid. And, in fact, the Tzardom of Light was the one intentionally sewing strife among the nations. As they grew their strength in the West, the Tzardom orchestrated the Northern wars as if they were playing with pieces on a game board, evenly wearing out their neighbors.

“Who will the people follow... A ‘light’ in name only, or someone who brings about tangible salvation, even through brute strength?”

“Are you speaking of him?”

“The humans sent here, and the ones who are about to arrive, are only here because of his actions. What was your country, who preaches of the Light and salvation, doing in the meantime?”

“Come on, Olgan! What’s the use of telling him that...?!”

Weeb remained silent, taking Olgan’s verbal barrage. In fact, infiltrating Hellion territory and saving those enslaved would have been a pipe dream for anyone else. It wasn’t something that could be done at the drop of a hat, either.

While Weeb didn’t deserve Olgan’s blame, he took it to heart. “My country is the way it is because of my failures.”

Olgan huffed and looked the other way, unamused. She never liked the Tzardom, who maintained a public goal of eliminating all Hellions.

“Forgive me for asking, but was he involved in your change as well?”

Olgan was in possession of a magical item that camouflaged her aura, but Weeb saw right through it. He sensed that Olgan was no longer a Firebrand, but a full-blown Devil.

“I was chosen by Lucifer...” Olgan uttered as she drew her hood back, assured of her fate.

Witnessing the horns on her head, Weeb swallowed his words. In addition to a spine-chilling aura, he sensed the incredible presence of Fire.

“Olgan... How long are you going to keep this up?!”

“I’m only speaking the truth.”

“Snap out of it! It’s like you handed him your heart on a silver platter!”

“He can have my body with it too.”

“Shut your mouth! His brainwashing’s gone deeper than I thought... Is that how I’m going to feel if he places more curses on me?!”

“I wouldn’t worry about that...”

As Weeb watched the two bicker, cold sweat trickled down his back. Before he knew it, this pair of (all things considered) reliable acquaintances had been taken in by the Demon Lord. This was as if the Demon Lord had stolen a vital force for humanity.

“When you say ‘chosen’...”

“Don’t worry, Mynk. You have not, nor ever will be, chosen.”

“H-Hey! That’s kind of insulting!”

“You are not the chosen one. I’ll say it as many times as it takes. You weren’t chosen.”

“Gah! Do you have to say it so annoyingly?!”

In a sense, Olgan’s choice of words was accurate. Valkyrie, the garment the Demon Lord had given Olgan, was once a piece of clothing given to players who betrayed the entire player base during a fight over the Sleepless Castle. While most players saw defeating the final boss as their goal in the game, these traitors fought against them to protect the final boss, of all things. During battles over the Sleepless Castle, the players would have to go through the traitorous groups of fellow players before even reaching the advisors. This was something Akira Ono had created to divide the players, and the dynamic had continued over the years.

Players who wore Valkyrie were notable for the advisors, too. For one, they could not attack each other, even with AOE attacks. Later in the Game, the traitorous players became more and more powerful, making them allies of the advisors. In that sense, Olgan really was chosen.

The two finally halted their pointless debate and squinted into the distance.

“That cloud of dust... Here they come.”

“That’s a decent number of carriages.”

Soon, Monkey Magic and Xiaoshou came in, riding a yellow, cloud-like object.

“Phew...” the leader of the apes sighed. “We finally made it.”

“I don’t like riding this thing, it sucks so much Stamina...”

Weeb thinned his eyes, on alert, seeing one of the infamous Animadmirals for the first time. Hummer, who had become completely immobilized behind him, fell to the ground.

“Hm?” Monkey Magic looked to Mynk. “You’re the chick with bandages on, who wasn’t even hurt. You’re alive.”

“Of course I am. Never assume I was killed.”

“Aren’t you going to play Deer-Hybrid, miss? We don’t mind if you’d rather hop around for a bit.”

“Who’re you calling a deer?!”

Weeb didn’t know what to make of the familiarity between them. He felt like a large, vital piece of information was missing, and no longer seemed confident that Mynk would act in the best interest of humanity.

Olgan stepped up. “Thanks for what you did.”

“Hm. Your eyes look much better than they did,” Monkey Magic remarked. “Women without hesitation are strong.”

Olgan let a rare smile slip, and looked towards the cloud of dust approaching from behind the ape and the kappa. A long caravan of open-ceiling carriages approached, each of them led by Sleipnir, considered both a mystical beast and a Hellbeast. The Sleipnir had the large, black body of a horse and a striking white mane, with eight legs and hooves. It was clear to see that they were on another level from the horses that humans reared.

Olgan said, “Our job’s done, now. We’re headed north.”

“North?” Weeb parroted, but Olgan closed her eyes without answering. She saw no obligation to give Weeb an explanation.

“And so is our job,” Monkey Magic chimed in. “We’re gonna party like chimps tonight!”

“Another party?” Xiaoshou grumbled. “I’m getting tired of this...”

“Now, weird human with the box... Yeah, you,” Monkey Magic said as he pointed to Weeb. He glared at him, his eyes flickering with what seemed like murderous intent. “You seem like a decent fighter for an inferior human... But step into our forest and we’ll kill you.”

“I’ll pray I never find myself there.”

“And tell the false god that I’m not giving back this band on my head!” Monkey Magic jumped on his cloud and flew off.

Xiaoshou ran after him, shouting into the sky, “Hey, don’t forget me here! How could you?!”

“Oh, I really did forget.” The cloud pulled a U-turn, and then a somersault as the ape grabbed the kappa off of the ground. The acrobatic maneuver earned a burst of applause from the refugee caravan. Perhaps Monkey Magic had intended it as a sort of show of dominance.

Once they were far from Rookie, the confident grin faded from Monkey Magic’s expression. “That human with the box... He’s dangerous.”

“What do you mean?”

“I might lose to him. The Tiger might even lose to him.”

“Yeah, very funny. What human could beat you or the Tiger...?” Xiaoshou tried to laugh it off, but stopped when he saw the ape’s expression. The prideful Monkey Magic would have never even joked about that.

“We’ll tell Lady Tatsu about that human, just in case.”

“Y-You got it...”

The cloud sped off into the horizon, as the former slaves came out of their carriages and cheered in excitement. They were struck by the realization that they had returned to the land of humanity.

The crowd that sent off Monkey Magic with roaring cheers was easily several hundred large. Weeb felt dizzy at the sight of them.

Olgan noticed this and devilishly whispered into the Paladin’s ear, “If it’s too much for you, just send them off to him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous...” Weeb scowled. Pass them off to the Demon Lord? As if. The last thing Weeb wanted to do was send these poor people to be ruled by him, especially after they’d finally just escaped Hellion territory.

“You’ve got a better idea?” Olgan taunted. “You know another place where people are ready to welcome them with open arms? If you do, then I’ll say no more.”

“I’ll take them to my home country myself...”

“They’ll be thrown out before you can even make it back to Rookie. Besides, you think your country will be accepting of the former slaves of Hellions? They’ll see them as tainted, ‘Bedeviled,’ perhaps. Burn them at the stake to make an example.” Olgan’s pointed assessment stuck in Weeb’s ear. He had no retort. “Trust me,” Olgan continued. “Just put this particular ball back in his court. He’s the one who started this mess, after all. I thought you humans loved assigning blame,” she snarled, her sarcastic spitfire directed more towards the Tzardom that seemed to loom behind Weeb, charged by years of mistreatment.

“I know it’s a tough pill to swallow, little Paladin,” Mynk finally interjected. “But Olgan’s right about this. Even Holylight’s better for them than the Tzardom.”

“But...”

Two people materialized before Weeb.

“One helluva swarm,” Tahara observed. “That’s what I call a pile of gold. The Secretary’s knocked it out of the park again.”

“Many of them are wounded or ill... A pile of gold indeed,” Yu chimed in.

Weeb was left bewildered. What did they mean? Why did they seem so cheerful? How did they appear out of thin air?

After quickly looking over the horde of refugees, Yu and Tahara turned their gazes to Olgan, her attire in particular.

“Well looky here!” said Tahara. “Looks like you’re the Secretary’s Zero-Zero-One. Feels good to red-rover a trusty ally.”

“I hear you’re among the most powerful in this world. Happy to have you on board.”

Tahara and Yu showered Olgan with warm smiles, but there was no rhyme or reason to it. Anyone wearing the garb Olgan was currently wearing was a ‘trusty ally’ regardless of their personal beliefs or feelings. It signified a quality beyond the wearer’s actual strength or personality. Akira’s Ono’s attention to detail had shone through in this world again.

“I’m Olgan. While Mynk here isn’t chosen, she’s not hostile. Nice to meet you both.”

“H-Hold on, I don’t want to be chosen, remember?!”

Tahara chuckled at this, and Yu kept her smile directed at Olgan as if Mynk didn’t exist. While not nearly as extreme as Yu, Olgan could also be as cold and calculating as it took to achieve her goals, making them kindred spirits in a sense. Moving forward, either of them would perform any heinous act if they thought it would benefit the Demon Lord. They each seemed to know it, too, as they separated from the group to discuss something between themselves.

Tahara seemed eager to bring home the migrant caravan. He turned to Weeb as if everything was settled, saying, “Well then. We’ll take it from here. Say hi to the Tzar for me.”

“Wait!” Weeb cried. “Do you mean to enslave them all over again?!”

Tahara scratched his head in disbelief. “What kind of business do you think we’re running in Rabbi? We’re so swamped down there, I’d even take sacks of potatoes if they could work... In fact, I’d take anyone with time on their hands.”

“I hate to say this,” countered Weeb. “But I must ensure their safety—”

“Thought you’d say that. Got a little note from Mademoiselle Luna and the Madam.” Tahara handed Weeb a wax-sealed envelope and lit a cigarette.

The letter was indeed signed by both Luna Elegant the Holy Maiden and the famously wealthy Madam. Weeb’s hands quivered. Refusing their request after reading this letter would be synonymous with spitting in their faces. That could easily lead to a diplomatic meltdown.

“Don’t sweat it,” Tahara said. “They won’t find better conditions anywhere else.”

Weeb swelled with disbelief, but the note in his hand prevented him from voicing it. The Madam’s wealth was known throughout the continent. As she had numerous Earth Spell Stone mines, Weeb assumed she could really use a lot of working hands. Miners, especially in this world, had short careers.

After a long moment of silence, Weeb finally relented and handed a leather bag to Tahara. He couldn’t expect any aid from the Tzardom, and he predicted that the Republic congress would chase the refugees off by force, as if they were a horde of wild beasts. There was nothing else Weeb could do when he already had his hands full rebuilding the city after the Invasion.

“I... have no way to save them. Put these to use, at least. That’s money from the Republic congress, and this is from me,” he handed Tahara a box that apparently contained his net worth.

Tahara was taken aback. The bag from the congress was one thing, but the box contained five Holy Coins, the value of which Tahara knew well by now. (This guy’s something else...) He couldn’t help but secretly be impressed by the Paladin. Who would give away millions in cash to complete strangers with such nonchalance?

Of course, Tahara couldn’t comprehend Weeb. While he sensed something honorable within the short and drab Paladin, he felt a twinge of fear and disbelief towards such a creature. Tahara always saw humanity as a despicable lot who put their own desires and agendas before all else. This view was the very foundation that allowed Tahara to understand others and frame them. But Weeb seemed beyond any reasoning he could come up with. As he leisurely smoked his cigarette, Tahara couldn’t help but think, (Good thing I put him on the Secretary’s docket. This guy’s above my pay grade.) Tahara returned the box to Weeb and walked away towards the caravan.

Taken aback by the gesture, Weeb rushed after Tahara. “Wait! If you can use this to make their lives better—”

“I don’t need your money. This city’s in a pickle, too, isn’t it? Why don’t you put that to use here?”

“But—”

“Sorry, you gotta take the rest up with the Secretary. I try to let my boss handle the complicated stuff.” Tahara kept walking, waving him off.

Yu returned from her discussion with Olgan and gave Weeb a side-eyed glance. “You again.”

Thank you for your help, Weeb tried to say, but Yu’s aura was too foreboding to allow for that. He almost wondered if she was the one who caused the Invasion in the first place.

“I hear many stories of you from my patients... And of your grandiose aspirations. If your ideals mean so much to you, you must serve the Secretary.”

“What do you mean by that...?”

“Must you ask? Let me rephrase... Obey God’s will.”

“God...?!” Weeb could hardly see straight. The Demon Lord himself had boasted that those who opposed him were the rebels. The statement had only been a desperate throwaway on the Demon Lord’s part, but it was gaining more weight at every turn. Yu even sensed The Creator within the Demon Lord, whom she could only describe as ‘God’ at this point. Weeb found no amusement in the analogy. All myths would be turned on their heads if the Fallen Angel Lucifer became God.

“H-He may be your god...”

“He’ll be everyone’s God in no time... His will is beyond this world,” Yu mysteriously declared and left without a second glance at Weeb, as if he blended into the background.

Weeb, on the other hand, shuddered as he watched Yu go. He could understand the meaning of her dreadful aura, considering that she served the Fallen Angel Lucifer, but there was something more about her. (How is there such a powerful aura of Prayer about her...?!) Weeb had an acute sense of good and evil, and amidst the eerie air around her, he saw countless shimmering lights. They were prayers of the powerless, along with their hopes and gratitude... While some higher-ranked clergymen possessed the same lights in the Tzardom, Yu’s were on another level of density. Weeb could almost see Worship within the lights. (She’s not someone who would bring joy and happiness to others... I don’t think.)

Unbeknownst to Weeb, Yu had been practicing medicine on the poor for free. In this world, an ailment or injury often spelled death for anyone less fortunate. Even if they could afford treatment, many struggled to pay off the medicine. To them, Yu, who cured any ailment free of charge, was none other than the Goddess of Salvation.

(The prayers given to her... It’s like she’s a goddess...) Weeb thought of the goddess Moira, sung about in legends of old, who was now considered a taboo figure in the Tzardom. She was a fierce character of mythology who brazenly criticized the rule of the Great Light, and at times even overruled or overwhelmed the Great Light. The powerful goddess, however, had disappeared from history at the same time as Lucifer’s fall from the heavens. (Could it be...?) No legends told of what became of the goddess after that. The common belief in the Tzardom was that she had faced Lucifer, bearing his ambitious fangs, and was defeated. However, the rest of the world rumored that she willingly fell alongside Lucifer. The goddess owed her popularity to the numerous myths of her that broke the mold: saving people on a whim, handing out immortality, disrupting destinies, and even forcing the Great Light to follow her orders. The people seemed to believe, no matter how much the Tzardom denied it, that the free-spirited goddess Moira would have chosen to go with Lucifer.

(When I saw them two together...) The sight of the pair looking down on the flood of monsters from above during the Invasion... Had they not appeared as none other than Lucifer and the goddess Moira? (When I first met him, he was merely a voice. And the other day...) The Demon Lord he finally beheld was pitch black from head to toe, and becoming of his title as the Legendary Rebel, he impossibly embodied wisdom and violence at once. (Some myths tell of the three goddesses of Moira...) Various stories and myths circulated in Weeb’s brain, dragging him down in a spiral of speculation.

“M-Master Paladin... Everyone’s... leaving...” Hummer timidly pointed out.

Weeb silently watched the crowd. Countless carriages that must have been standing by outside of the city came rolling by after another, and the people happily climbed into them. Every single one of them was adorned with the famous flag of House Butterfly.

“M-Master Paladin... If I may...”

“What is it?”

“I would like to go with them, if at all possible...” Hummer seemed to have thought this through, thinking that he was too clumsy to work to restore the city. The only thing that awaited him here was the daily ridicule of young adventurers. He seemed to see hope in a brand new environment.

Weeb knowingly nodded. “Take this with you,” he presented Hummer with a piece of metal. “Any company will deliver your letter as fast as possible.”

“L-Letter...?”

“Whenever you think of it, please let me know how you’re doing. I’ll be in this city for a while.” Weeb extended his right hand.

After a few moments, Hummer finally realized that the Paladin was waiting for a handshake, and freaked out. “I-I wouldn’t dare... M-Master Pala—”

Weeb clasped Hummer’s hand and gave a gentle smile. He saw Hummer as an equal, looking into his eyes with care. “Mister Daruma. You were a great help to me here.”

“I-I haven’t done anything...”

“I find myself relaxing when I’m with you, somehow. I thought I would never feel as comfortable as I am now, ever since I was chosen by the Holy Garb Box... Take care.”

Tears swelled in Hummer’s eyes, and he gave a rushed bow before sprinting off.

Weeb watched the crowd disperse, with a flicker of loneliness in his expression, until he was left alone outside the city.