The Church's original Cedar-Protect Potion was finally finished — a concoction that grants resistance to cedar's toxic pollen.
The base extract came from pollen I risked my skin to harvest from Margaret-chan's flower, blended with the perfect dose of an anti-side-effect stimulant I'd hammered out after endless trials. It's my own recipe, born of sweat and a little cruelty.
A few needed resuscitating afterward, but that's a tiny blip compared to what my potion achieved. Most of the heroes now have enough tolerance to stand and fight the cedars.
Enflamed with vengeance, the heroes took torches and weapons, their hatred wrapped around them like flame, and set out for Verda Forest to hunt the cedars.
It's a massive operation — almost every hero from this area signed up.
"Calm before the storm, eh..."
The church is quieter than usual.
By now the heroes are probably launching their invasion into Verda. Maybe I should clean the place. No — pointless. It'll be stained with blood before long anyway.
I should eat. Once it starts there won't be time for that.
"Ohoho, look at you, so carefree, Priest."
Someone barges into the church and ruins my meal.
"Oh — Mor-mor... Gram-kun, isn't it?"
"Don't mess up my name! Tch, you're a pain in the ass."
Gram lopes in with an axe slung over his shoulder, the way a thug walks when he thinks the world owes him fear.
"What's the matter? Aren't you joining the operation?"
He taps his shoulder with the haft of his axe and strolls over like he owns the floorboards.
"That soldier-lady... Aegis, right? She's leading this big operation. Word is she came up through the royal knights. Noble blood shows — different class entirely. She's probably out leading the heroes into Verda now."
Huh. Why is Aegis being talked about right now?
"And you, Gram-kun — what are you doing? Everyone's out there giving it their all. Skiving off isn't allowed, you know?"
"Heh. I couldn't miss this chance. After what you did, I don't care about the resurrection bills or the tab. I'm gonna kill you."
"...Listen, Gram. Revenge brings nothing."
"Don't you start playing holy now!"
Well, technically I am a holy man, but there's no time to point that out. Gram swings his axe up and rushes me.
This is bad... A weapon-wielding hero versus a bare-handed Priest — this is laughable.
I'm going to die! I don't want to die! Please, Gram-san! I'll lick your boots — anything!
"...Heh. What did you think I'd say?"
"Huh!?"
I slip a hand into the folds of the large Goddess statue and press a hidden switch.
Click.
"Argh... aaah!"
Gram's scream collapses inward and vanishes.
Of course I'd prepared for thuggish heroes. The bottom of the pit he fell into is a bed of spears made from weapons carelessly dumped by other heroes—a spike-littered grave.
For now, Gram will have to stay quiet down in that hole, stabbed into a wordless, impaled version of himself. When Aegis returns, she'll receive a very stern reprimand. After all, this is the second time someone tried to kill me. Even a gentle priest can grow furious.
Punishing the wicked makes the stomach growl. Today's menu: tomato pasta.
I turn to head for the kitchen.
Something slick grabs my ankle. I look down — a blood-soaked arm is growing out of the floor.
A monster?
"As expected of a Priest. Nothing more dangerous than a target who refuses to die."
I widen my eyes. Gram has crawled out of the pit, his mouth twisted into a grin that doesn't reach any sane part of him.
How is he alive?
No — it's only a matter of time.
He's bleeding badly. From how he moves, his legs hardly work, or are already torn off and left at the bottom of the pit. Still, there's no fear in his face.
This bastard's used to dying.
"...Please don't push yourself. You'll really die, you know."
"You were the one who tried to kill me!"
"Killing a Priest is a grievous sin. Your hero status will be stripped, and you'll never be resurrected. But — I could fix you up right now, if you'd just drop whatever you're holding."
"Shut up! I'll kill you!"
He's useless. I don't want to die, of course — but the thought of dragging Gram with me to the grave is unbearable.
With unfocused eyes, Gram raises his axe.
This is bad, bad, bad!
I thrash to shake him off, and of course I'm pinned again.
No strength can beat his. Words won't get through.
If only I had a weapon...
Of course — the small Goddess statue. It fits in the hand.
Where is it? Where is it! ...Ah — the kitchen. I use the small statue as a pickling stone.
"Dieeee!!!"
A shout of rage split the air and an axe descended.
Like overripe fruit dropping, a head tumbled free from its shoulders.
I widened my eyes at Gram's rolling head, then shifted my gaze to the woman standing behind him.
Was I saved?
...No.
"You're the Priest?" she asked.
Colorful feathers sprouted from her back, shining like stained glass and lending her an almost holy glow. But her eyes—black orbs with golden irises—were not human. If she isn't human, then what in heaven's name is she?
I had a sense of it, but I didn't want to admit it. I wished she were just some lunatic in cosplay. Anything but this.
"Fools," she said.
She scanned the place with cold annoyance. Her face looked familiar, as if I'd seen it somewhere before — maybe some hero in costume, I told myself.
"You don't understand what this place truly is. The people who entrusted it to a single Priest, the others who never bothered to attack it — none of them know."
Oh no. This is bad.
I kicked off the ground and bolted, leaping for the back door and into the yard.
A sharp pain lanced across my back at the same moment.
I stumbled, unable to hold myself upright, and fell to the earth.
"You lot are a nuisance," the woman said, her voice slow and mocking. "Kill them and more crawl up like maggots, trampling the gardens. Smash this place and those annoying hero resurrections stop too, right?"
Her voice crept closer like a caress. I tried to look brave.
"It's useless. Even if you kill me, there will be a second, a third Priest—"
"Is that so? Then you'll be the first sacrifice of the Priest-slaying celebration. I'll make sure your torture is memorable. I'll nail your corpse up and show it off."
Oh no — she's not going to be merciful.
The Goddess's warning flashed through my mind like a slide reel.
'Darkness approaches the Church and you. If you die, I'll be bored... I expect great things of you, Julius.'
What does she expect from me? This is unavoidable.
And why would something like that be allowed near the God's sanctum? That's dereliction of divine duty — beyond anything I alone can fix.
Maybe being killed by Gram would have been better... No. Don't be weak. It's not over yet.
"Heh heh, so carefree. You don't even know you were led here," the woman murmured.
I turned to her with a look meant to hide my fear. I have to buy time.
She didn't so much as twitch. Without speaking she cracked a whip like a living thorn — a vicious thing that looked familiar in a place I wished it wasn't. A serpent of leather and spikes uncoiled toward me; I could only stare.
If anyone were here— If I were a proper hero, maybe I could beat her. But no. A human cannot fight this.
She's a demon. A being that even immortal heroes can't beat.
Unless—what if there's something like her to oppose her? Like Margaret-chan?
"—!"
For the first time, her face shifted.
Vines at the edge of the yard shot out and slapped the thorn-whip aside, petals and tendrils flicking like a curtain.
"Margaret-chan!" I cried before I could stop myself.
Margaret-chan fixed me with her usual blank stare. She showed no expression, but I could have sworn there was a new edge in her gaze—was that just my imagination?
Hundreds of vines writhed and surged in unison, launching themselves forward.
The woman stood frozen, eyes wide with surprise, as the vines snapped at the arm holding her whip.
"Ah... ah... brother," she whispered.
She's trembling. Go, Margaret-chan. Do it. Wait—brother? I don't have a winged sister.
"Because I believed. I always believed you were alive somewhere," she said.
Margaret-chan watched us silently — she never speaks — yet somehow the woman understood her.
Are they talking about me? Both of them are looking this way.
"No. If he is the man you chose, I won't interfere," Margaret-chan seemed to say.
What are they even talking about?
The woman turned toward me.
"I heard you took care of him. You kept those who touched the petals away, called a hairstylist now and then to trim the leaves," she said.
Oh. So that's what she thought I did.
"I cannot kill the one who saved my brother. But I can't leave you be either."
"Then... what will you do?"
"Come with me."
"What?"
Her form blurred and vanished. Something tapped my shoulder lightly.
When I turned, the church was gone. Beyond the smiling woman lay a dense, foreign landscape stretching into forever — a green so deep it swallowed the light, and the faint, iron-sweet smell of blood on the air.
Notes:
• Margaret-chan - an Alraune(?) living in the church garden with pure white petals and hair, flat-bodied like a doll, releases pollen, gender subject to various theories, hopelessly in love with Julius.
• Gram - a male thug-like hero who frequently forgets to pay resurrection fees, occasionally snaps and tries to kill Julius, yet kind to children.
• Aegis - a female red-haired holy knight in silver armor, harsh to others and herself but shows weakness to Julius, to whom she swore loyalty, leads the Secret Police Squad.
• Julius - The Main Character.