Vol 4 Chapter 97: “Martyrdom” (Vol 4: The Otherworldly Battlefield Arc)

Hesitation.

　Returned to the town gate, Sukui processed his thoughts in an instant.

　No—no deliberation was needed. The path forward was obvious.

　Or maybe this fleeting moment was just… panic.

“Monsters incoming! Everyone, get inside! Combatants, stay clear of me and guard the gate and walls!”

　Sukui and Holo, who’d just been sent away, reappeared in a flash.

　Far off, the Demon King’s castle radiated a visible, unsettling aura.

　The festive crowd, bombarded by chaos, froze in confusion.

“Lead them!”

　Sukui barked at a nearby holy knight, then bolted from the gate toward the castle. No time for more orders.

　Manifest.

　Death magic.

　Miasma flooded the area, stretching far beyond Sukui’s rope range. He locked it in place, thickening its density to block monsters from the gate.

“Don’t touch the miasma! Kill anything that slips through!”

　Holo took over shouting orders as Sukui focused ahead.

　Knights split—some reinforcing the gate, others herding civilians. Volunteer fighters lurked in the streets, ready to ambush invaders.

“Holo-san’s the only one who can solo the skies! Prioritize her support!”

　Sukui’s knives couldn’t one-shot hulking monsters. Same for other mages.

“Got it!”

　Holo’s stone wings burst forth as she leapt skyward.

“What the—”

　—is going on?

　The holy knights choked back the question.

　Trained not to waver, yet Sukui refused to fight beside them.

　Same with the priests.

　Last raid, even the priests struggled. They should split from knights during attacks—skill gaps made teamwork clunky.

　But they stuck together anyway. For morale. For the performance of unity.

　Priests held back, never going all-out.

　But it wasn’t meaningless.

　Healing the town, saving hearts—

　If that mattered, then…

“Enough.”

　Miasma swirled.

　A pure death zone.

　A space so lethally hostile it’d make onlookers flinch. Yet the knights, steeled for death, stood firm.

“Here they come!”

　Holo’s shout echoed as supersonic boulders shredded a crimson dragon. It crashed, rotting into smoke near Sukui.

　The battle began.

“HOLD THE GATE!!”

　Knights roared.

　Sukui stood motionless. Maintaining the death zone trumped running around.

　But he wasn’t idle.

　Monsters charging through the miasma? Knives stabbed their weak points, letting the fumes rot them faster.

　Flying foes? Blades snipe wings or eyes.

　Yet the horde didn’t thin.

　Sukui smirked.

“Pathetic.”

He muttered.

　Sukui’s death magic preparations.

　Holo’s powerful spells picking off stragglers.

　Even the monsters that slipped through were half-dead by the time they hit his death zone.

　Sukui called them “dead weight,” but the holy knights—selected for their strength in Polivity and rigorously trained—stood ready behind him.

　Trivial.

　Became trivial.

　Because the cleric had stayed alone at the Demon King’s castle, sending Sukui and the others back to the town.

“Escape wasn’t impossible.”

　Sukui muttered, his demeanor shifting to detached efficiency.

　The cleric’s thief magic specialized in stealing—and apparently, under certain conditions, teleporting stolen things elsewhere.

　But she likely couldn’t teleport herself.

　A holy mage boosted by sacred magic could’ve focused on fleeing to survive the monster horde. Maybe. Sukui kept thinking, even as his arms grew heavy, his magic flickering dangerously. So drained, he barely noticed the screams behind him.

　Hundreds. No, thousands of monsters carpeted the ground from the castle to Polivity.

　They breached the gate. The town suffered damage.

　Sukui’s mafia allies minimized casualties, but not entirely.

　A battlefield. And he’d controlled it.

　The end came with motionless corpses and rain.

　Holy knights rushed toward the panicked, screaming streets. Sukui, meanwhile, staggered away,魔力 depleted, vision swimming.

　Each step dragged. Hours of combat until sunset.

　A魔力量 as pitiful as his shouldn’t have lasted. He’d been a one-man wall, relying on sheer physicality. Without Holo’s wide-range spells, he’d have been monster chow.

　But those thoughts were long gone. Now, he just trudged through the rain, stepping over grotesque carcasses.

“Was… the town safe?”

　Sukui had wondered. Could the cleric have survived by fleeing?

“Not ‘safe,’ but losses were minimal.”

　Recovery was feasible. The town’s defenses—combatants and mafia—had been tighter than usual, panicked only because monsters breached the gates. Once the holy knights announced the battle’s end, calm would return.

“I see. Thank you.”

　Sukui approached the relieved cleric, kneeling gently to support her.

“No. This is your doing.”

　Around her lay mountains of monster corpses—each one a foe the holy knights would’ve struggled to defeat even together.

　A testament to the cleric’s holy magic and thief skills.

　Among the stolen hearts, cores, blood, and feathers…

　The cleric lay…

　Her lower body, from the navel down, was missing.

“No.”

　Her left arm was gone from the shoulder, her right from the wrist. A magical cost?

“I only took down a fraction.”

　Her once-neat hair hung in ragged clumps. Her saintly white robes were dyed red.

Yet her demeanor hadn’t changed.

“Thanks to everyone…”

　Her words faltered, as if she’d briefly lost consciousness, before she stared blankly at the sky.

“So… this is the end.”

“Unsalvageable.”

　For both the cleric and Sukui, this was obvious.

　The fact they were still alive felt more miraculous.

“I… failed to save them again.”

　The cleric whispered, her smile long gone.

“Failed what?”

　Sukui replied. Hadn’t he said the town was fine? Hadn’t he credited her?

　He knew logic meant nothing here.

“I was born… poor.”

　Her unfocused eyes stared at the sky as she spoke, words spilling like scattered drops.

“The church took me in. Raised me with other orphans.”

　She’d been older, forced to care for the others while church adults rarely showed.

“The funds meant for us lined their pockets. We feared every winter.”

　Tomorrow, the child beside her might die—starved, sick, or killed by vagrants. Knowing this, yet powerless.

“One day… a church anniversary came.”

　A celebration. The children still prayed daily to a god who’d never saved them.

“I knew it was pointless. But…”

　That day, she stole a fist-sized ham from a stall.

　No one noticed. Crowded streets made theft easy.

“I shared it. Withered bread, tiny scraps… but they called it the best meal they’d ever had.”

　That day, she chose sin.

　The thefts didn’t stop. She couldn’t watch children die of poverty.

“I didn’t want… anyone to die.”

　Tears fell from her hollow eyes.

　Food wasn’t enough. The crumbling church couldn’t shield them from winter. Minor injuries turned fatal; illnesses demanded treatment.

“Petty theft grew into bigger deals. I wanted a place where no one died. Where everyone smiled.”

　Years later, she returned on another celebration day.

“They were all dead.”

　She laughed bitterly, tears streaming.

　Her stolen goods funded the church, but such a life couldn’t last. Targets of theft or betrayed allies—someone silenced her.

“I couldn’t save anyone.”

　Afterward, she confessed her sins. No motive left to sin further.

“That’s when I awakened to holy magic.”

　The world’s greatest thief became its cleric. Sent to Polivity, she arrived in this town.

“I thought… this time, I’d do it right. Even someone like me… could still save others.”

　She clung to that wish. To save the town. Its people.

“Wrong methods can’t save anyone. Sinful salvation… isn’t salvation.”

　She knew this. Yet she piled on pretty lies, striving to save through “clean” means.

　Everyone knew. She could’ve forced compliance but chose迂回 honesty.

“But I’m no cleric.”

　Her voice faded.

“All I have… is a talent for calculating gains and losses.”

　No saintly heart. No charisma. Sukui knew the town thrived on her ruthless governance. People obeyed for profit.

“I’m still… just a filthy thief.”

　No lies. She’d meant every pretty word—even as scheming calculations ran beneath.

“Sukui-san…”

　Her voice barely audible.

“You’re like me. Trying to save the suffering… only to fail and hurt them.”

　People like us… playing savior?

“Absurd, right?”

　Yet she’d wanted to save this pain-drenched world—her way.

　Impossible. But she couldn’t stop.

“So we… go mad. And fail.”

　Her eyes closed. These words, her final answer.

“Not yet.”

　Sukui pulled her close.

“The plan isn’t over.”

　Even if she died, it’d continue.

“Your plan will succeed. Polivity will gain glory. Save countless lives.”

　His voice flat, yet resolute.

“I’ll slay the Demon King. Because you asked.”

　Together…

“We’ll save this world.”

　The cleric, unable to smile, managed a faint twitch.

“Ah… Yes. With you… I could’ve…”

　In Sukui’s arms, her breath stilled.