Interlude

Menou once received a present from her Master.

It was when she became the youngest trainee ever to be promoted from the black garb of a nun to the white of an assistant priestess.

When Menou put on the white priestess robe, her Master gave her a yellow cape.

She could wear it over her robes, and it wouldn’t get in the way of intense movements. She said it was to commemorate Menou’s first step toward becoming an official Executioner.

“I just picked the first thing I saw. You can pawn it off on someone else if you want.”

“What are you talking about? I would never.”

I would never do anything so insensitive like giving away a present, Menou thought. How impolite does she think I am? As the young girl sulked, her Master looked at her and grinned. Then she tapped her head lightly in two places—indicating the positions of the ribbons Menou’s junior Momo always wore.

“What about Momo’s ribbons, hmm? Do you remember who first gave those to whom?”

“Ahhh…” Menou quickly averted her eyes.

The red ribbons that Menou had given to Momo when they were younger were actually first given to her by her Master.

“It’s important to be stylish.”

“Stylish. I see.”

After that nostalgic exchange, Menou learned how to take care of her appearance, and she received ribbons as a prop. She later used those two red ribbons from her Master to tie Momo’s hair in pigtails. Of course, that was to stop Momo from crying, but those were Menou’s only possessions at the time.

It was hard to defend herself when her Master pointed it out now, though.

“Don’t worry. I pick out presents myself now, so I won’t give away something that’s been given to me.”

“That’s true. You could even financially support me now.”

“Please don’t joke about that. Ah! Please stop pulling!”

Her Master yanked roughly on the black scarf ribbon, a gift from Momo, which held Menou’s chestnut hair. She guffawed at Menou’s protest.

Then she gave Menou one last warning as she prepared to leave the monastery.

“From now on, you will be traveling the world to dispose of taboos. An Executioner does not belong to any parish. They rarely return to the holy land and almost always act on their own. Don’t trust anyone, not even others in the same position as you. Since we don’t depend on any system, people will betray you all the more.”

“Have you ever been betrayed by someone, Master?”

“Have I? Let’s see…” Her Master closed her eyes as if recalling the past.

Her expression when she tried to remember something was uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever…failed to betray me.”

When her teacher gave this response after a long pause, Menou couldn’t help staring at her intently.

“…What’s that look for?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Menou was honestly surprised.

If her Master had been betrayed, that meant she had to trust someone. If someone she didn’t care about had rebelled against her, she would probably just say I dealt with them permanently.

So it was all the more unexpected that such an independent person would say she was ever betrayed.

“I just wasn’t expecting to hear that you trust people sometimes, Master.”

“What exactly do you think I am?”

“…An Executioner in the form of a person, I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Menou thought her choice of phrasing was perfectly apt, but her Master sounded bemused by Menou’s appraisal.

“I’m human, you know, not something else in the form of a person. I’m not perfect, not invincible—just a human being. I’ve lost in battle more than once, and I’ve failed missions before, too.”

“You lost?”

This was completely unexpected, too. Menou gaped, looking foolish.

Her Master snorted, amused by the reaction. “Yeah, that’s right. To monsters like the archbishop; Experion, the world’s strongest knight, from Grisarika Kingdom; the beast of the Commons, Genom Cthulha, who traversed the eastern Wild Frontier…and plenty of others, too. It’s a small world, but a big one at the same time.”

That was certainly an impressive lineup. Why had she tried to fight all these opponents anyway? Menou found herself shuddering at the idea of facing down such battles, which would be far tougher than Otherworlders in many ways.

“You may well find yourself fighting enemies like that someday, too.”

“No, I won’t.”

“What, too afraid for your life?” Her Master snickered.

“…That’s not what I mean.” Menou puffed her cheeks sullenly.

It was a mean-spirited question. She wasn’t trying to say that she was afraid to challenge such foes—just that she doubted she would have reason to throw herself into such legendary battles like her Master clearly had in the past.

“You never really know what your future might hold, kid. I’ve got no idea what lies in store for you, either, but that’s why I’m warning you now.”

Suddenly, her Master put her right hand on Menou’s head. She wasn’t patting her hair or measuring her height—just resting her hand there, almost as if to hold down Menou’s growth.

Menou was turning twelve that year.

Even now that she had grown taller, kept her hair tidily arranged, and wore a white priestess robe, Menou was still more than small enough for her Master to rest her palm on her head.

“No matter how much you believe in someone, they’re bound to betray you.”

Her tone was too casual to be a prediction, too light to be a curse.

“That’s what it takes to turn out like me.”

She was simply describing the future that Menou would someday experience.