Verita woke about thirty minutes later with unfocused, spinning eyes. She looked around in a daze, spotted me, and flinched again.
She had collapsed without warning, so I was worried she would wake with scrambled memories. Judging from her expression, it seemed this wasn't the case.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Uwah."
"Calm down for now. Calm down."
Verita looked like she was about to lose her composure again at the sight of my wound, so I flicked her forehead before she spiraled.
"Uhhhhhh—" She covered the sore spot with a groan and stared at me. The sting seemed to steady her, though her eyes still held a haze of confusion.
I lowered my voice. "I said, calm down."
Her shoulders sagged, and she glanced at me nervously. "Yes..."
Honestly, seeing her like this threw me off. If we fought right now, Verita would probably win. My pride hurt, but this was the truth. Yet Verita kept watching my reaction. At the very least, she hadn’t lied when she said that she followed me, a priest.
"Excuse me..." she started.
"Yes?"
"Why did you suddenly do that?" Verita asked cautiously.
This woman, who had fainted and woken up, was still sitting on the ground. I moved to the other side, sat down as well, and asked back, "Why did you suddenly faint?"
"I did?" Her shock sounded genuine.
"You foamed at the mouth and collapsed," I replied. "It looked like you saw something you weren't meant to see."
"Ah. That..." Verita pursed her lips, her thoughts still sluggish. It seemed as if she was searching for the right words.
Before she could speak, I beat her to it. "Do you want me to tell you? The person you were supposed to protect hurt himself, and you had no idea how to handle it. Your brain overheated. Does that sound right?"
Verita nodded slightly.
I snorted. This was the plan I had formed after Senior Brother Arang told me to confront contradiction with contradiction.
"Now, look." I showed Verita the wound again. The bleeding had already stopped, and a scab had already formed. Naturally, this came from the First Fire Technique's properties. I had pierced my hand but missed every major blood vessel and bone. I would probably recover by tomorrow or the next day.
"You claimed that you would kill anyone who hurt me, right? You said you wouldn't tolerate even a scratch, and you proved it when you acted on impulse," I pointed out.
Verita flinched when she heard the Yin-Yang Dao being drawn again. She was someone who could casually pull out her own eyeballs, yet she looked genuinely frightened now. "P-please stop!"
"Oh, are you giving me orders now?" I demanded.
"T-that isn't what I meant..."
"Really? Either way, this is my answer. I don't want to stop." This time, I aimed the Yin-Yang Dao at the back of my right hand.
Verita screamed once again. I observed her face shake with violent panic as I pushed the blade deeper. The feeling of cool metal sliding through my palm sent a sharp pain that moved in a hot and cold surge, like a hot skewer or a razor-sharp icicle. The intensity blurred any sense of temperature.
I stared at Verita in that state. Her uniquely colored eyes shook as if the ground beneath her had started to move, but she didn't seem on the verge of fainting like before.
"What if I keep hurting myself? Are you going to kill me?" I questioned.
"No."
"Then are you going to forcibly restrain me? Tie me so tightly that I can't lift a finger, then lock me in a basement or something, and feed me only at mealtimes?" I pressed.
"How dare I—"
"I suppose so. I don't know what you want from me, but you won't get it by locking me up," I interrupted.
Verita closed her mouth, her face pale. Her shaky eyes stayed fixed on the back of my pierced hand, and her fingers twitched nervously.
"Now you understand, right? Even if I get hurt in the future, you have to stay still," I instructed.
"Why are you suddenly saying this?"
"You are really dense. This is why people claim that pink hair makes you stupid."
Of course, no one said that. I just blurted it out because I disliked the color.
I tried again since she was still in a daze, "Think about it. Whose choice was it when I drew my sword and pierced my palm?"
"That... It was obviously your choice, Priest," she answered hesitantly.
"That's right. My choice. I decided to draw the sword, I handled it myself, and I injured myself. In a case like this, you can't attack anyone. Correct?"
"Yes."
"Now, let's change it. Who chose to participate in the promotion trial's upcoming third test?"
"That is your decision too, Priest," she replied.
I nodded. "That's right. Do you understand now?"
"Forgive me. My lack of understanding means I still don't know what you want to say."
"How frustrating," I groaned. "All of this is my choice, my decision. Participating in the third test, aiming for a B-class position, and getting hurt in the process, all of it comes from choices I made. In the bigger picture, it is no different from piercing the back of my hand."
At this point, I drew the blade free and met Verita's gaze. She looked half-mesmerized by my rambling, but she still tilted her head. "No... Isn't that a different situation?"
The most important part of tricking someone involved shamelessness and confidence, so I filled my voice and expression with conviction. "It isn't different. Not at all. It is the same."
Verita hesitated with a worried look before speaking in a strained voice. "I think I vaguely understand what you are saying. However, if I follow that logic, it makes my existence meaningless."
"Not necessarily," I refuted.
"Could you elaborate?"
"My journey won't be smooth in the future. I will face many crises I can't predict. If you help me in those moments, do you think I will respond with anger like I did now? I doubt it. I will probably bow my head and thank you," I explained.
Verita glanced at my wound once again before stepping closer. She held the cross necklace hanging from her neck and muttered in a low voice, "O Baal."
A faint light shimmered, and the wounds on the back of both hands healed completely.
"It amazes me every time. I didn't expect that a Dark Church member could handle divine power at this level," I remarked.
"It actually isn't all that strange. The seventy-two gods are essentially the same as the Judge," she said.
I flexed my fingers and asked, "The Judge you mentioned, are you talking about the Colorless Demon King?"
She nodded. "That is what the world calls him."
"I still have some questions for you. You called Leone a princess. What did you mean by that? You didn't seem to be referring to a princess of the empire." I studied Verita's face. "What does she have to do with the fallen kingdom of Setitus?"
Verita remained calm.
Her steady expression made something clear. I would not break her composure so easily, and it wasn't like I could hurt myself every time I wanted answers.
Verita told me, "It is as you say. We are all descendants of Setitus."
"We?" I emphasized.
"The Colorless believers," she clarified. "For that reason, we don't acknowledge the current Dark Pope. The only one fit to truly inherit the church leader's position is Princess Leone. In the same way, Priest, you must lead us as the Colorless King's sole apostle."
"No. Hold on," I interrupted, my voice flustered. "Something about this feels strange. Wasn't it the Colorless Demon King who destroyed Setitus? Yet you follow him?"
Verita shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer that. I can only say that it isn't strange for the Judge to pass judgment."
I scratched my chin in thought. At last, something hinted at the source of my unease. Senior Brother He Lou had faced a situation that forced him to destroy a nation, and I was sure the Colorless believers knew exactly why he had carried out the massacre.
Then it's the right choice to keep Verita with me for now. If not her, then at least another believer. The Colorless believers hold the key to unraveling Senior Brother He Lou's secrets.
"Let me ask you one more thing. What would happen if I ordered you to vanish from my sight?" I asked this because another believer would likely serve me better than Verita.
"Of course, I will obey the order," she replied matter-of-factly.
I had expected that, but I wanted to know what followed. "Do other believers know that you have been in contact with me?"
"That's right."
"How many?"
"Ten people, including me."
"Ten people..." I muttered. Fewer than I expected.
Verita must have guessed my thought because she smiled. "Our numbers are quite small. We are just a handful compared to the Dark Church's other factions. Of course, there are many informants, organizations, and forces spread across the continent, but only a few of them know our true identity."
"It is a strange setup," I noted.
"Yes. You do not need to worry. They will offer their loyalty willingly even if they know who we are. Their devotion comes from the heart, not coercion." She added, "Also, you don't have to worry if I leave."
"Worried about what?"
Verita gave the same gentle smile. "If I disappear or can no longer carry out my protection duties, another believer will quickly join you."
"Another believer?" I echoed.
"That's right. Every one of us will follow you as much as I do, or even more."
A fanatic who follows me more than Verita? Damn! A chill slid down my spine. Somehow, I felt like I had one more reason to keep Verita by my side.
***
After that, I asked Verita a few more questions, but the information I could obtain was very limited. Whenever I asked about the Colorless Demon King, Leone, Setitus, or the church, Verita would always give the same answer: " I sincerely apologize, but I will tell you all these things only when you go home with me someday."
Home... It's probably the Colorless faction's stronghold. Naturally, I had no desire to set foot in a place like that, and I still didn't trust Verita enough to follow her there.
When we reached the front gate of the Hero Society's headquarters, I had one last exchange with Verita. "Got it? From now on, endure it even if someone hurts me or picks a fight with me."
"Understood." She then asked, "But what if they go too far?"
"Too far?"
"If someone dares to try and kill you," she clarified.
"Then you can smash their heads, tear them apart, or do whatever you want to do." I said that because I wasn't kind enough to care about those who wanted to kill me. Still, I added that she should at least try not to kill anyone if she could help it.
Verita didn't fully approve. Even so, she replied, "I'll do my best."
Still, this leaves me with one less worry for the moment. With that dangerous bomb secured by a minimal safety pin, my goal had been achieved.
In any case, I returned to the Hero Society and headed straight to my assigned room. Unexpectedly, someone was standing in front of the door. I recognized the face at once.
Her cold gaze turned toward me as if she had also sensed my presence. "You're late. I've been waiting for an hour."
She sounded so certain that I almost questioned whether we had made plans. That idea made no sense, of course.
I hesitated over how to greet her, then settled on a casual, "It has been a while, Sister Nero."
She was family, so the address felt natural enough. Still, I couldn't remember the last time I had referred to this woman, Nero Badniker, the second daughter of the Iron-Blooded Lord, as my sister.
Nero seemed stronger than before. She seemed to have grown taller, and her hair and eyes appeared darker, though it could be my imagination. The familiar gloom around her suited her. She carried the presence of a female or petite Iron-Blooded Lord.
In terms of aura, Nero resembled the Iron-Blooded Lord more than any of his other children. She looked like his exact copy except for her round ears and pale skin.
This wasn't our first encounter in this city. She was the Vigilante hero who had apprehended the pickpocket when I first arrived in Teper. Our eyes had met briefly back then, and I had wondered if she had recognized me.
Nero said, "Luan, I heard that you are participating in the promotion test. The fact that you are challenging the promotion trial instead of the Origin means that you have earned your hero status through the family's training camp. Is that right?"
"Well, yes."
Her tone sounded like an interrogation, but I didn't mind. The Nero in my memories had always spoken that way. She carried a sharp edge in both appearance and aura, like a black rose with many thorns.
"I see. Then give up this test. I'm here to advise you on that."
Wow, she has not seen me in ages and dropped that line out of the blue.
"Why?" I asked.
"Have you heard the format of the third test?"
"Yes. It is a sparring match with an A-class hero," I replied.
She nodded. "Good. Then you know what you face. This part is confidential, but your opponent has already been chosen."
"Who is it?"
"Heero Badniker." Nero looked at me. "He intends to kill you."
Before I could interpret the true meaning behind her words, I flinched and glanced aside. Verita had tilted her head at a neat fifty-five-degree angle.