Revival, debt collection, crafting new holy water—every day was a blur. A one-man cleric has no time to breathe.
So, the chores that didn't directly keep the place running—the little things—were always pushed aside. Like tending the garden.
That's why, when Olivier came to me with that offer, it wasn't weakness that made me agree. It was... inevitability.
"Father, would you let me take care of the garden?"
"...That's sudden. Why?"
"I need... healing."
Olivier's eyes were shadowed with sleeplessness as he looked over the desolate garden. Behind him, as always, he dragged a coffin—the one carrying Katarina.
Seeing the storm in his spirit, I asked gently,
"Not getting along with Katarina?"
He shook his head slowly.
"No, she's kind. Cheerful. A good person. Compared to my old party, it's a relief, honestly. But... the moment I look away, she dies. It's like she's drawn toward it—like she's trying to die. So I'm... always on guard. I can't relax."
"I see. Hence, healing."
He nodded. "We're always on the road, no home of our own. But we stop by this church often, and... if there's a bit of peace here, I think it might help—when she dies again, I mean. I'll bring seeds and fertilizer. Just... lend me the garden."
His earnestness was hard to refuse. I folded my arms, thinking aloud.
"Normally, the church grounds aren't lent to individuals... but I was the one who paired you and Katarina, wasn't I? Let's call this a special case."
I said it with a serious face, but inside, I was grinning. The garden had long since gone wild. If he wanted to restore it, I could hardly complain.
And so, Olivier began his slow work. He visited often—after all, Katarina had a habit of dying. The garden changed with every resurrection.
Katarina died. Olivier trimmed the trees.
Katarina died. He cut the grass.
Katarina died again. He planted new flowers.
As the seeds sprouted and grew, I found something in me softening, too. Before long, I was waking early, watering them myself.
Plants grow fast. Soon, they were taller than me. Olivier and I would stand together, smiling up at them.
"Father, have you seen the buds?"
"I have. They're swelling nicely. Might bloom today."
"Can't wait! It's like watching your daughter grow up."
We were both laughing when Katarina, her neck newly reattached, emerged from the shade.
"What's so fun about growing vines?"
The color drained from Olivier's face.
"'Vines,' you say? Say that again."
"Eh? Why are you mad!?"
As they bickered, I raised my hands in peace. It was true—the plant wasn't exactly showy, not yet. The buds hadn't opened.
I'll admit, I hadn't cared much for Olivier's hobby at first. It seemed a morbid pastime. But the deeper I watched, the more I understood. Plants were miraculous things.
I placed a hand gently on Katarina's shoulder.
"Watch."
I went inside and fetched a slab of meat. Ignoring the drool dripping from her lips, I tossed it high into the air. In a blink, it vanished.
"...What?"
Katarina's eyes widened as she followed it—just barely catching the blur of vines writhing like tentacles, snatching the meat and burying it at their roots.
"See? Cute, isn't it? Like a puppy. There's something soothing about watching it move."
"...That plant's weird."
"Huh?"
What is she talking about? Did I reconnect her nerves wrong? No, my resurrection work was flawless. The problem had to be in her head.
"Why are you looking at me like that? It's weird! The vines move, the buds are huge—it's not normal! It's creepy!"
"Huh?"
"Don't 'huh' me—!"
Good grief. I'd heard of resurrected adventurers seeing things after trauma—the wind turning to ghosts, the trees into monsters, flowers into horrors.
"Well, Margaret's beauty might just be too much for you," Olivier said, smugly.
Margaret. That was the name he'd given it. I questioned his naming sense, but the seed was his, planted in this ruined soil. He'd earned the right.
And the plant was extraordinary—It had grown taller than me in days, strangled pests with its vines, even wriggled happily when watered. A miracle of nature, really.
Perhaps that was why newcomers found it unsettling.
"Look, Father!" Olivier pointed. "The bud—!"
"...It's about to bloom."
The massive bud trembled faintly. It wasn't like a flower opening. It was like something about to hatch.
"See! That's not normal! Buds don't move like that!"
"Yes," Olivier whispered, eyes burning with something far too bright. "My Margaret isn't ordinary. She's special..."
...Right. His eyes weren't normal anymore.
Great—another mental case. I'd have to schedule a counseling session for him later. For now, it was Margaret's blooming that demanded attention.
The tough shell around the bud split open. Petals of pure white unfurled like a noblewoman's gown, soft and regal in the light. I should have been struck by the beauty of it—but I didn't have time for awe.
Because from within those petals stepped—someone. A girl? A boy? Hard to tell. Long hair the color of the flower itself, smooth, porcelain skin, an androgynous grace that defied reason.
Katarina screamed.
"I knew it! That's an Alraune!"
What? No, no—it had to be a neighborhood kid hiding in the bud for a prank. That's what I almost said. But even I wasn't delusional enough to believe it.
And yet, Olivier was. He blinked, voice soft with wonder. "No, no, it's fine. Probably just some child playing hide-and-seek."
Ah. There it was—the blooming flower field inside his skull.
"Don't be ridiculous! Look at it properly, Olivier!"
"I am looking," he said dreamily. "Beautiful... it's not human. A flower fairy, maybe."
What the hell are you saying, man?
"...Where did you even get those seeds?"
Olivier didn't answer. Katarina, ever helpful, filled in the silence. "He picked up a weird fruit in a dungeon, remember?"
Of course. That explains it. An Alraune, without a doubt. The vines moving like tentacles, the unnatural growth rate—only a few days since planting, and this.
But Olivier, bless his broken mind, refused to let go of his 'healing.' He stumbled closer to the flower, enchanted, as if sleepwalking through a dream.
"What are you doing!?"
"What do you think? I just want to see my lovely daughter up close."
He's gone. Completely gone.
Still... maybe—just maybe—there's a chance. After all, he raised it. Perhaps, by some miracle, she'd see him as her father.
I watched, holding my breath.
Olivier reached out. The girl in the flower—Margaret—opened her eyes, curious. Her gaze lifted upward. She followed something spinning through the air.
Olivier's head.
The vines had moved faster than sight, and just like that, he was dead.
* * *
What a disaster. As I repaired Olivier's body, I called for professional help—monster disposal. Aegis.
I knew no hero more skilled. And if even she failed, then that would be it. Game over.
"Forgive me," Aegis said, pressing her forehead to the floor. "I'll take my life to atone."
"Don't. I'm the one who'll have to fix that too."
I told her to raise her head. Her eyes were red, wet. She sniffed.
There was no reason to cry—really.
"It isn't your fault," I said. "That thing's just too strong. Dungeon-boss strong, maybe?"
She nodded gravely. "Ordinary bosses, I can neutralize alone. But that creature..."
Wonderful. It was so bad I almost laughed.
The battle between Aegis and Margaret would be retold for generations. And yet, when the dust settled, Aegis had only a few scratches, and Margaret merely looked... freshly trimmed.
When night fell, the monster retreated into her bud, ending the fight by choice.
"Well," Aegis sighed, "we'll gather more heroes tomorrow. Overwhelm it by numbers."
She hesitated. "...But, Priest, it seemed to me the Alraune was holding back."
"What? You mean—it's stronger than that?"
"Yes. If it truly wished, I believe it could crush me with ease."
That was... bad. A hero army would only become a corpse garden. And I'd be the one cleaning it up. No thanks.
Aegis wiped her eyes and stood.
"An Alraune shouldn't even survive in a place like this. Not on holy ground. Did you use... any special fertilizer?"
Fertilizer? Olivier used some regular stuff from the market, I think. Though—wait. I did wash a blood-soaked carpet nearby... And dumped the remnants of that failed holy-water experiment there too—
Oh. Gods. DCS contamination?
"If we analyze the plant," Aegis said, "we might find what triggered it. That could give us a way to weaken—"
"No."
I shook my head.
"This too is divine will. Perhaps God wishes to see whether man and monster can coexist."
"What? It hasn't attacked you, but it's still a monster! It could kill you at any moment!"
Yeah, I know. I don't want to die either. But if they find banned substances in church soil, I'm dead in a different way.
So I smiled my best priestly smile.
"It's fine. God is with me."
Notes:
• Olivier - A male adventurer burdened by the constant deaths of his companion Katarina.
• Katarina - A female adventurer known for her cheerful demeanor but cursed with a tendency to die repeatedly.
• 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.