Chapter 34: Heavenly Saint, Vasily Valvaroi 5

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The Holy Sword was a weapon created by the Goddess. That was all that had been written in Johan’s journal. There were no details or explanations, but since even Vasily, who had lived since an age that could now be called the Age of the Gods, had been unaware of its existence, there was nothing strange about that.

The only one who could activate it was the <Protagonist>. As far as she knew, there was only one such person, and this world had been born for the sake of a story with that single individual as its protagonist.

A girl whose hair was the same color as the golden grain that ripened after Vasily had traveled the world to discover it and spent hundreds of years selectively breeding it. Arianrod Mona.

When Vasily found the girl, nothing more than a village maiden, and witnessed her activating the Holy Sword, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

So I am really going to die, Johan.

The story began. The world raised its first cry. All the people across this continent, including Vasily, would soon be forced to choose between life and death. And that burden would rest upon the shoulders of only a handful of people, centered around Arianrhod. Even that chosen hero, if she misstepped even once, would be defeated and subjected to violation.

How many tightropes would she have to walk? And even after walking that many tightropes, Vasily’s fate would still not change. The moment she realized that, a wave of emptiness welled up inside him. Vasily had done everything she could. She had never once been careless in her life.

Relying on Johan’s teachings and journal, as well as <Knowledge> and <Prophecies>, she continued reaching for everything imaginable. She founded the Adventurers’ Guild and maintained authority as its first Guildmaster, established connections with the major powers of every nation, and neglected neither relations with the Church nor the Elven villages.

At the same time, she honed her own strength. Bows and swords went without saying, and the number of newly developed spells was beyond counting. It took her time to understand the concept of an “item box,” and an equally long time to comprehend the nature of the force that kept her feet planted firmly on the ground.

It was said that in the night sky, the body was bound by nothing, and even liquids could float in the air. When he first managed to reproduce that power with her own hands, she was so moved that she leapt high into the sky.

Weren’t you afraid? With that much knowledge, you must have known how you would end.

Through his long life, Vasily came to understand what kind of circumstances Johan had lived under. Now there were concepts like nations and nobility, but back then there were none. Even when Vasily first emerged into the world, countries existed only at the level of small cities. Nobles were merely appointed rulers of those small towns and villages, and she still vividly remembered the shudder she felt upon reading in the journal about concepts that would not exist until far in the future.

That was why, in the past, power itself was justice. Those with strength took everything, and the weak were only oppressed. Johan, once grown, possessed skill befitting his age. Had he survived to adulthood, his family might not have been taken from him.

But humans were creatures that formed groups. The more one struggled to make use of knowledge and obtain a better life, the more one was suppressed and oppressed by those around them.

Vasily was a princess in the Dark Elf village, and the Elven race itself was slow to accept change, which worked in her favor and allowed her ample time to prepare. In fact, most of the Dark Elves of the village only realized after the fact that their way of life had improved at Vasily’s hands. Even if change was unwelcome, if it was better, they would try it. If it failed, they could simply revert it. It was an attitude made possible by their long lifespans.

Compared to that, what about humanity? Those obsessed with land. Those dissatisfied with their position. Those angered at having their vested interests taken. Those who came to steal other people’s completed work, those who resented not being given anything… Despite countless obstacles and hardships, things worked out only because Vasily had time to spare and because her abilities had already strayed far from their original path.

Violence was answered with violence. Problems were forcibly resolved, and the chosen path was to let it permeate across generations. Even if Johan had possessed strength equal to Vasily’s, accomplishing this would have been difficult. That was why the thought inevitably arose.

How much regret did you carry?

He had knowledge. He understood the general course of events. He knew what needed to be done and how to act. And yet, he was not understood by those around him, forced into obedience through violence, and had everything he had painstakingly built taken away.

How much humiliation, how much frustration, how much…

Why were you able to sleep so peacefully…?

Vasily was terrified. The thought of the innocent smile of the girl who had activated the Holy Sword twisting in violation before her eyes and of her own future, drenched in humiliation, unfolding before that same girl.

No matter how much she searched, she could not find the Demon Lord’s Army. Ten years had already nearly passed. There was no doubt they had formed somewhere. Everything in the world was progressing exactly as written in the journal’s <Knowledge>. Cold sweat—no, fear—rose up within her.

I don’t think I could sleep like you did.

She looked at the vacant expression on the girl’s face. A girl still young, seemingly unaware of reason. Pure and innocent, untainted, a village maiden at the age where she should be running through fields and mountains, growing up healthy. Upon such small shoulders, Vasily had to entrust the fate of the world.

She had done everything to change fate. She inherited Johan’s will and continued striving so the future would move in a better direction. And this was the result. Accepting her own death, and the helplessness of having to command a single young girl to save the world. Despair, emptiness, and sorrow that, despite spending such an immense span of time, the ending had not changed.

She grabbed the girl by the shoulders. The girl let out a frightened sound, but Vasily could not concern herself with that. Was there anything more shameful than this? To entrust the fate of the world to such a small girl, and moreover to force her to witness the process of Vasily herself being violated and dying.

“──You can become a hero. No, you must become one. You can save the world. You must save the world.”

There was no other choice. Johan’s journal said so.

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After obtaining her family’s consent, life with Aria began. She seemed to have liked physical activity from the start, and her athletic ability was not bad. However, simple running that placed little strain on her body bored her, and she often showed dissatisfaction appropriate for her age. Vasily wanted to smile and overlook such cuteness, but she was the most special protagonist in the world.

She could not go easy on her. The more she understood the regret of the man who had wanted to be the most special in this world, the less mercy she could afford. What surprised her was that she enjoyed studying. Learning the unknown seemed fun to her, and when taught about structures like nations and nobility or the mechanisms of commerce, she absorbed it all remarkably fast.

She also introduced the concept of nutritional balance, something nonexistent in this world and prepared meals she had tested repeatedly through experimentation. She changed the menu daily so she would not grow bored. It was troublesome, but if this much effort would help Aria grow, she would not cut corners.

Still, she was just a child. The sudden change from her previous daily life, combined with being restricted from playing freely, caused dissatisfaction to build. Vasily was aware of this. But there was nothing she could do.

A hero who activated the <Holy Sword> would awaken and become capable of standing against executives of the Demon Lord’s Army. That was written in Johan’s journal. During her running drills, she told her to run lightly, and she never destroyed things in fits of excitement. She was calm for her age, and she had not seen her enhanced physical abilities manifest.

But in reality, that was probably exactly what was happening. Casually swinging the Holy Sword likely meant her physical abilities had improved unconsciously. It was still too early to make her aware of it. If she became aware, she would lose control over her power and be unable to train properly. If that happened, they might not make it in time for the five-year deadline. Having come to truly feel the shortness of time after accepting death, Vasily possessed an impatience and caution unbecoming of a long-lived race.

That was why she had cherished Aria sufficiently, but she could not forget that Aria was still a child. Aria snuck out of the house and struck a boy in the village. What Vasily saw when she rushed over was the boy fleeing from Aria, his leg broken, his arm torn off, his body convulsing as he screamed and cried.

“Ah, ah, ah, aaaaaaaaahhh!!!!??”

“…Hi… ya, e, ah, why…?”

“Waaaaaaaahhh!! Uuuuuuhhh!!?”

It looked like nothing but a horrific murder scene. Aria, splattered with blood, clutched her chest while muttering something blankly and breathing shallowly. In her line of sight was the boy, crawling desperately, dragging his shattered arm and broken leg.

It was a hellish sight. One of the rarest even in Vasily’s long life. The boy survived and recovered, but the wounds inflicted upon the children’s hearts were deep. From then on, Aria lost her appetite, could not keep up with her daily studies or running, and began to suffer from night terrors.

“Damn it… what should I do…?”

Johan’s journal said nothing about this. She complained that only things that should not change were changing for the worse, and began to wonder whether she had done something irreversible. No matter how much knowledge one had, one could not understand the human heart. She knew that. She should have known.

After all, it was none other than a <Reincarnator> who had died in loneliness. She knew Aria was just a girl. But more than that, the fact that she was the <Protagonist> had made Vasily let her guard down.

“If Aria shuts herself away like this… no, no, no! That, at least, must be prevented at all costs…!”

Should she let her see her parents? What would that accomplish, showing them their daughter in this state? If they only cursed her, that would be fine but there was a chance of losing all trust. Three thousand years of effort would be lost. She would be violated. Toyed with. Killed. The world would end.

“…Ugh…”

Right. Vasily was no longer just fighting her own fate. For three thousand years leading up to this point, she had carried the will of reincarnators who had died with regret, building countless things to save this world from hell.

There was no turning back now. There was no changing anything now. At the one moment she could not afford to be wrong, she had been wrong. What welled up was not just nausea. While Vasily, like Aria, spent sleepless nights, a boy came to visit.

It was not exactly a visit to see the bedridden Aria. Apparently, he had business with Vasily. Thinking it unusual as she met him with a tired mind, she recognized the boy.

…The one from the other day. Aria’s childhood friend.

The boy, now completely healed, showed no fear. If anything, he spoke with a slightly excited air.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Finn Debyura.”

“Ah… yes. I’m Vasily Valvaroi.”

At this time, Vasily had already changed her name. The reason was simple: she wanted to resist being the same person as the one described in <Knowledge>.

I wonder what he’s going to say. Depending on what it is, I may need to guide it toward resentment directed at me…

She did not want Aria to be hated. As the one who had dragged the girl onto a path of carnage, that was something she would not compromise on. She waited, prepared—but Finn spoke words she had never expected.

“I want to be like that too.”

“…Hmm?”

“I want to be amazing like Aria. Is that impossible?”

“…So that’s how it goes, huh～～…”

The name Finn Debyura did not appear in Johan’s journal. It only vaguely hinted that at some point in the future, this boy would commit an act of violation against Aria based on unreasonable claims.

…That much, at least, can be crushed together with Aria.

At a glance, he was nothing more than an ordinary boy. Yet coming to say “I want to be like Aria” instead of harboring resentment, hatred, or fear after suffering such grievous injuries took considerable courage. Thinking that impressive for a child, Vasily found herself feeling that it might be fine to accept him.

If he might become an enemy in the future, it’s better to make him an ally now. Either way, I have to do something about Aria.

It was not a grand reason. If she could eliminate one future enemy, then so be it. That was all it was. With that level of thinking, Vasily decided to raise Finn alongside Aria. With the true motive being the calculation that Aria might return to her former self. That was all.

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