Chapter 11 : So, You Like Getting Hit

As always, just as in the life she had chosen, Bersia was a thorough bystander to this entire scene.

She simply followed each visible element, one by one.

The man’s eyes held a multitude of emotions.

The one that stood out the most was sorrow, yet somewhere within it, there was a glimmer of resolve.

Finally, the old man opened his eyes.

“Mm…”

Why was the sound of the old man’s eyelids so striking as they fluttered open, accompanied by his steady breath?

And why did the sight of the man trying to suppress his tears, forcing a smile, leave such a lasting impression?

…She knew the reason.

Bersia’s gaze, in this moment, was also following Usher.

It must have been because he had brought about such a scene.

“Father, you’re awake?”

“Ah, Dale. Dale…”

The man clasped the old man’s hand.

The old man’s wrinkled hand began to grip his son’s hand so tightly, as if to use up the last flicker of his life force, that his veins stood out.

Then, he spoke haltingly.

“My breathing is easy… Yes, they said the Saintess has come?”

“Yes, yes…”

One could tell by now that the old man’s vision was not normal.

Perhaps the reason he was holding his hand so tightly was because of that.

At that moment, Usher stepped back.

Turning his body, he smiled gently, mouthing the words, “Let’s go back now.”

And with that, he left the house.

Bersia paused for a moment to look at the man and the old man.

“…I’m sorry, Father.”

“Again with that. It’s all right. It’s all right, Dale.”

Was it Usher’s unfamiliar decisiveness that was the issue, or was it the unexpected method of resolution?

The scene, which would usually fail to capture her interest, particularly drew her attention today.

She understood.

What was to come would likely be quite cliché.

Words like, “I’m glad you’re not in pain,” the last will of an old man sensing his death, or recollections of past times ending in a farewell.

There was nothing more to see.

And yet, for some reason, her feet wouldn’t move.

“Knight.”

Usher whispered softly.

“…Yes.”

At that, Bersia managed to let go of her lingering feelings and left the man’s house.

The sun was setting.

Usher, with hands politely folded, gazed at the sunset that was crumbling beyond the mountain range.

It was silent.

Considering his usual loud demeanor, the contrast was striking.

Bersia reached his side in a large stride.

Usher’s expression was bitter.

The reason soon became clear.

“…He won’t see the next day.”

“Is that so.”

“Yes, tonight is his last.”

It wasn’t for any particular purpose. Just seeing that bitter expression brought these thoughts to mind.

Bersia also turned her gaze towards the sunset and spoke.

“Isn’t it shallow?”

“What do you mean?”

“The design that forces us to watch as our loved ones slowly die.”

Usher stopped walking.

Sensing this, Bersia also halted.

Perhaps the reason she added those words was because of a lingering bitterness.

“Our parents are meant to meet the end of life through illness. Countless lives learn to love each other, only to inevitably part in pain.”

Of course, Bersia had never lost anyone that way.

Her bitterness stemmed from something larger, a more complex reason than that.

It was closer to a sense of disillusionment, and perhaps, she felt that Usher was someone who could share in this disillusionment.

But maybe even that judgment was shallow.

“I think differently.”

Bersia’s gaze shifted to him.

He squinted toward the horizon, as if chasing something beyond the sunset, and murmured.

“Mercy.”

“…What?”

“Perhaps it’s mercy.”

Though it was his own body and face, why did he seem so unfamiliar?

At that moment, Bersia vaguely understood the reason.

“Mercy, indeed.”

“Yes, mercy.”

Bersia did not know how to smile so purely like that.

Usher’s upbringing could hardly be called happy, even as a joke.

If a group of vagrants were to compete over who had the most unfortunate life, he might dare to aim for first place, depending on his competitors.

This was especially true when it came to loss.

Usher learned of farewells before he learned of encounters.

This happened when he was still barely tall enough to reach an adult’s waist.

It was before he met Bersia, during a time when his life was adrift, swept along by crashing waves.

The painful memories of that day constantly loomed over him, casting a chilling coldness upon his neck.

“There are farewells without even a moment to prepare.”

Usher spoke, feeling a sour taste in his mouth.

“An unexpected goodbye leaves a searing pain.”

It wasn’t a lecture to her.

It was simply something he believed in… something he had to believe.

“The Divine One denied eternity on this earth. In its place, countless moments were layered, creating change.”

“Is this a sermon?”

“It’s an explanation. In any case, because of this design, issues arise. The moments that make us up are plotted differently on the timeline of our lives.”

“…….”

“The beginning of where lives overlap is an encounter. The end of that overlap is a farewell. Inevitably, we are all bound to part ways. The Divine One has connected love to those intersections, ensuring our torment.”

“We’re drifting further from mercy, aren’t we?”

It was an odd feeling.

Bersia’s expression as she retorted was a kind of sullenness she’d never shown before.

It was as though none of these words were sitting well with her.

For some reason, she seemed uncharacteristically emotional, as if searching for something to counter.

So, Usher could only respond with an awkward smile.

“It’s quite the opposite. That’s precisely why it’s mercy. I believe that the Divine has given us illness at the end of our crossroads to ensure that the love we carry isn’t just a source of pain.”

“An ending…”

“A way to foresee what’s coming. To let us know that we will part ways.”

Usher spoke softly.

Carefully, he revisited old, faded memories as he continued.

“None of us ever think tomorrow could be our last day. So there’s no preparation, and if there were no aging or illness, every death would be a horrific tragedy.”

From that perspective, isn’t it almost fortunate?

When a life eventually finds its destination, when it stops at that place, it can look back on the path it has traveled.

It can smile with pride or regret and share its journey with someone else.

At least, he believed that illness existed for that reason.

If someone couldn’t even gain that, he believed they were meant to bear that deprivation to convey its importance to others.

It was a thought rooted in logic, and the response he received was just as he expected.

“That’s sophistry.”

It was a somewhat cynical answer.

Usher smiled, embarrassed.

“Yes, it’s sophistry.”

Bersia looked at him, somewhat surprised.

Had he admitted it too easily?

But there was no other choice.

He was aware of it to some extent himself.

Still, Usher’s thoughts remained unchanged.

“So what if it’s sophistry?”

“I thought you called it an explanation.”

“Yes, an explanation, so it doesn’t matter.”

Usher loved devotion.

More than anyone, he was zealous about the doctrine, and the times he learned while others dozed off were fulfilling for him.

Because of that, he could say this.

“The Divine did not give us answers. Nor did He forbid us from contemplating and deciding for ourselves.”

That was called free will.

So this kind of sophistry was not blasphemy.

“It’s my own interpretation, and I believe I can live faithfully through it. Isn’t that enough?”

He swallowed down the somewhat embarrassing words that almost slipped out.

That you were the one who led me to this conclusion.

That the guiding sign for my steps was your kindness.

It wasn’t easy for Usher to embellish memories held alone and speak them aloud.

His cheeks grew warm from embarrassment.

Bersia walked in silence, deep in thought.

She didn’t say anything until the sunset completely faded, and dusk settled.

Usher wondered if his words had been a needless lecture and remained cautious with his speech. Then, finally, a response came.

Bersia smirked.

“…That’s impressive. Thinking so positively.”

“Pardon?”

The sullenness had disappeared from Bersia’s face.

Her expression had returned to its usual languid look, now with a hint of mischief.

“It seems like that Divine intends to turn you into a lady knight. You do seem to enjoy—”

“Stop right there!”

“So you do like taking hits. I’ll remember th—”

“Stop it!”

When he shouted in a shrill voice, Bersia chuckled and nudged him forward.

Why did things always end up like this?

Feeling utterly fed up with her antics, Usher launched into a genuine lecture, rather than just another explanation.

“Can we not, for even a single day, keep things pleasant? We were literally discussing faith just a moment ago! Can you not take things seriously, even now? You lack a proper sense of self-awareness as the Saintess!”

“Right now, I’m a holy knight, not a Saintess.”

“Holy knights should also have faith!”

“Marvin doesn’t think so.”

“Ah!”

“Marvin told me, you know. That your hips—”

“Stop it! Do not hang out with Marvin! Unwholesome associations are strictly forbidden!”

“He’s your friend, Sir Knight.”

“……!!!”

…In any case, there was never a peaceful day.

Two days passed.

Their inspection—or rather, medical mission—filled with countless incidents, finally concluded.

It was now time to collect their rewards.

Performing good deeds for a purpose still pricked Usher’s conscience, but since it was for Bersia, he decided to overlook it.

Usher received his special allowance and stepped out onto the street.

And immediately suffered.

“Shall we check out that place over there, Sir Knight?”

“Oh, the bookstore?”

“Marvin said they carry some… adult illustrations at that bookstore…”

“Why are you like this? Really…!”

It was challenging from the start.

Usher felt like crying.