Chapter 1: The Blood-Soaked A-Rank Swordswoman Broke Down Crying at the Reception Desk

“Hey, receptionist! Isn’t the appraisal for this minotaur horn way too low?!”

“The base is cracked. It’s a B-Rank material. Next person, please.”

“My name is listed third on the subjugation report I submitted yesterday!”

“We have testimony confirming you were actually the third one fighting.”

“Isn’t that a bit cold?!”

“The facts are everything.”

The Adventurer’s Guild was noisy again today in the early afternoon.

The stench of cheap booze. The creaking of leather armor. The yelling of adventurers returning from quests.

Even though I reincarnated into another world of swords and magic, my main battlefield today is still the reception counter.

By the way, my duties today, in addition to reception, involve a newly established, mysterious department—

“Mental Health Consultation Window (Temp)”

—that’s my job.

What the hell is ‘Temp’? Temp my ass.

According to the Guild Master, “The adventurer dropout rate has been high lately, so do something about it.”

Didn’t my workload increase the exact same way in my past life? My protests were spectacularly ignored.

Well, if it’s a physical injury, there are mountains of treatments in this world.

There are Healers, priests, and recovery potions.

The problem is when one’s spirit is broken.

Only in that area is this world strangely obtuse.

Which is exactly why I’m sitting at this window like this, but—

The guild doors opened violently.

No, rather than opened, they were shoved apart as if someone had crashed into them.

“—Hah, aah…!”

Thud. A heavy sound echoed.

Every gaze in the room snapped to the entrance at once.

I raised my head as well, and the first thing I saw was red.

Blood.

It was spectacularly splattered across her silver hair, her shoulder guards, and her black light armor. In one hand, she held a chipped longsword. Her other hand was trembling slightly, resting against the wall as if she couldn’t support her own body without it.

Then, the young woman took only a few steps forward before collapsing to her knees right in front of the reception desk.

“Hey, you’ve gotta be kidding me…”

“Wait, isn’t that Lise?!”

“The A-Rank…”

“It’s Lise of the Annihilation Sword!”

The atmosphere in the hall shifted in an instant.

I knew the name, too.

A-Rank Adventurer, Lise. A top-tier swordswoman who cleared high-difficulty quests solo. Strong, beautiful, and unapproachable—that was the general consensus about her.

But what she had right now wasn’t the aura of a powerhouse.

It was the face of someone who had reached her absolute limit.

Her breathing was shallow. Fast. Her eyes were unfocused.

Her shoulders were stiff, and only the fingers gripping the hilt of her sword were abnormally tight.

Ah, I know this expression.

I saw it countless times in my past life.

In hospital consultation rooms. In school counseling offices. On the faces of people sinking into chairs straight after getting off work.

It’s the face of a person whose mind has reached its breaking point before their body.

“Someone, call a High Priest!”

“No, wait, we need to stop the bleeding first!”

“Hey, receptionist, don’t just stand there!”

The hall erupted into a panic.

I get how they feel, but everyone panicking together is the worst possible move.

I stepped out from behind the counter.

“Please don’t crowd her. The air will get thin. Onlookers, step back three paces.”

“T-Three paces?”

“Guild Master, please open up the entrance side wide. And get some water.”

“R-Right!”

So obedient. That’s a huge help today.

I crouched down directly in front of Lise, matching her eye level.

“Lise-san, can you hear me?”

Her eyes wavered faintly.

“This is the guild. The battle is already over. You are safe now.”

“…Ah…”

Her reaction was small. But my voice was reaching her.

Looking closer, the injuries themselves were shallower than I thought. The amount of blood was dramatic, but it didn’t seem to be all hers.

Her body can probably be healed. The problem is right here.

In this world, they can instantly treat a broken bone, but everyone goes pale when faced with hyperventilation.

No, I get it. I really do, but still.

“I brought the water!”

“Thank you. Put it right there.”

Accepting the cup, I made a conscious effort to keep my voice calm.

“You don’t have to speak right now. Let’s regulate your breathing first. Match my voice.”

“…I… c-can’t…”

“It’s okay. Nice and slow. Count to four and breathe in, then let it out long. Here we go—breathe in.”

Her shoulders shuddered heavily.

It was erratic at first.

“…One, two, three, four. Hold it. Now breathe out. Thin and long.”

Once more.

Once more.

An adventurer watching from the side muttered in a low voice.

“What’s he doing?”

“I dunno… but isn’t Lise’s breathing calming down a bit?”

“Even though it’s not healing magic?”

“Is it some ancient secret art?”

“He’s literally just breathing with her.”

“Quiet. We can hear you.”

They instantly shut up. Good.

After repeating it about three times, Lise’s breathing became a little better.

The trembling remained, but her eyes were focusing on me more than before.

I thought she was a beautiful person.

Her silver hair was soiled with blood, and there was mud on her cheek. And yet, her facial features themselves were breathtakingly well-proportioned. I was sure that normally, just being glared at by these eyes would silence most men.

Those same eyes were now wet with fear.

The fear shown by strong people is usually deep.

“…I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But, at the reception desk…”

“The floor can be wiped later.”

“Eh?”

“Just look at me.”

For just a second, her eyes widened in surprise.

Good. She’s come back a little.

“Can you drink some water?”

When I offered it to her, her hand trembled, and she nearly dropped the cup.

I supported the bottom of it, helping her out just a little bit.

“Once you’ve calmed down, let’s move to the back. There are too many people out here.”

“…The back?”

“We have a room for consultations.”

To be exact, it’s just a small room for organizing ledgers with a wooden placard placed on it.

But what we need right now isn’t fancy facilities. Just a door that closes, a simple chair, and a desk.

Lise started to say something, then bit her lip.

“…Again.”

“Yes?”

“Again, I’m the only one…”

She couldn’t continue past that.

But that single phrase was enough.

“Again.”

It wasn’t a one-time thing. It wasn’t just panic from this specific incident.

“Can you stand?”

“…Probably.”

“If it’s too much, I’ll support you.”

“You don’t need to go that far…”

As she said that, she tried to stand up and, sure enough, stumbled.

“See? That’s why I offered.”

“…I’m s—”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

When I lent her my shoulder, her body tensed and stiffened.

It was the reaction of someone completely unaccustomed to being supported by others.

This is troublesome, I thought.

Not the job itself. But the fact that she’d been enduring everything alone up until now.

Once we moved to the small room, the hustle and bustle outside felt a little further away.

I had her sit in a chair, and I sat down across from her.

I didn’t close the door all the way, leaving it open just a crack. It was to reduce the feeling of being trapped in a closed room. Kind of a habit from my past life.

“I’ll say it again.”

I spoke in the most even tone I could manage.

“You don’t have to be strong in here.”

At that moment, Lise’s shoulders gave a small tremble.

That was probably the one phrase she had been told the least in her entire life.

Silence fell.

I didn’t rush her.

In this world, the words used to fill this kind of silence are pretty much set in stone.

Don’t worry about it. Drink some booze. You’ll feel better after you sleep. Get stronger. Don’t cry.

Some people can get back on their feet with that.

But that probably wasn’t what she needed right now.

She needed permission to speak.

“…I had party members.”

Finally, Lise opened her mouth.

“They teamed up with me this time, too.”

“Yes.”

“But… it was no use.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I’m the only one… left alive…”

By the end, it was barely even a voice.

She tightly clenched her hands in her lap.

Her fingertips were white.

“When I’m around, everyone… disappears.”

“You don’t need to rush to conclusions right now.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“I understand why you’d want to think that way.”

I didn’t outright deny it.

But I didn’t let her swallow it as absolute truth, either.

Lise looked at me with reddened eyes.

“…Do you really understand?”

“At the very least, I understand that it was tough enough to make you feel that way.”

“…!”

And with that, her tears finally spilled over.

Quietly, but unstoppably.

Anyone watching would have been shocked—the strongest swordswoman, in tears. But right now, she existed outside of categories like “strong” or “weak.”

She was simply a person who could no longer bear the weight all by herself.

“You don’t have to explain everything all at once.”

“…But.”

“You can sort through it as you go. Start from whatever you can talk about.”

Her eyes widened just a fraction.

It’s a reaction I’ve seen countless times in my past life.

The face of someone who never thought they would actually be listened to.

Deep in my chest, there was a faint ache.

I still can’t quite recall the people I failed to save in my past life.

Whenever I try to remember, only their final expressions come to mind first.

So maybe that’s why I can’t just ignore a face like this.

“Today, I will listen until you’re satisfied.”

“…You will?”

“Yes.”

Lise’s lips trembled faintly.

“It doesn’t have to be everything. You made it here today. That alone is more than enough.”

It happened the very next moment.

She leaned forward from her chair just a bit and grabbed the sleeve of my uniform.

They were slender fingers.

But they belonged to hands that had gripped a sword. The amount of force in her grip was entirely too desperate.

I held my breath.

Because those eyes looked a little different from the fear they held just moments ago.

They weren’t just the eyes of someone begging for help.

They were the eyes of someone desperately clinging to the one thing they had finally found.

…Ah, this is bad.

As an initial response, I didn’t make any mistakes.

Probably. No, I handled it pretty damn perfectly. Even by past-life standards.

And yet, I’ve got an incredibly bad feeling about this.

With her face still wet with tears, Lise was looking only at me.

It was a direct, fragile, yet strangely heavy gaze.

And then, as if squeezing the words out, she spoke.

“…Please. Don’t abandon me.”