“Stop! That’s enough!” A voice shook my eardrums. Someone had forced my arms behind my back.
It was Reystov.
“Huh—Ah—”
I realized that nothing was moving. The chimera had run off somewhere. The area around me was a literal sea of blood and guts. Reystov and the other adventurers weren’t uninjured, either—
“Heal Menel! He’s going to die!!”
I snapped back to reality. “M-Menel!!” I sprinted, almost tripped my way over to him.
He was charred black, and his beautiful face was burned beyond recognition. His arms were twisted, and he was missing several of his fingers.
I started hyperventilating.
I prayed and prayed.
The miracles of the god of the flame began to heal his body.
“P-Please—Please—” Tears filled my eyes. “Wake up... You can’t... You can’t die...”
He was so gravely injured. The healing was progressing slowly, but he wasn’t opening his eyes. I prayed, prayed, prayed...
I was feeling very faint. I’d swung that demonblade so much and indulged in its power for so long. Maybe that was taking its toll on me.
But I... have to heal... Menel...
And while I was still mid-thought, the ground suddenly tilted at a strange angle, and I blacked out.
When I woke up, Reystov was there to explain the situation to me.
I was in a village close to the valley, and this was an empty house that they had allowed us to rent after being filled in on what had happened. After the battle, Reystov and the others had retreated here, carrying Menel and me over their shoulders. Fortunately, I had cut down the entire horde of beasts, and after the chimera’s retreat, there had been no sign of it attempting another attack.
Menel had escaped death.
It was probably thanks to the number of spells and blessings I’d cast on him beforehand. It had also majorly paid off that Menel hadn’t foolishly attempted to hold his ground when the chimera struck him, but had rolled with the blow and willingly been knocked away. The collision with the rock wall and the chimera’s fire breath had both nearly killed him, but the magic I had bestowed upon him had somehow kept him breathing, and my blessings had made it in time.
However, because I overused my demonblade, I had passed out halfway through treating Menel, so he hadn’t come to yet.
“For now, just rest a little more,” Reystov said.
“But—”
“Meneldor’s condition is stable. You’ve exerted yourself too much. Rest,” he said emphatically, giving me a hard look. Then he left the room.
He’d looked exhausted as well. There must have been other victims besides Menel and me in that chaotic battle, but he hadn’t mentioned anything, probably deliberately.
And so, in this unoccupied house with its simple mud walls, I sat under a faint ray of light that shone through a gap in the roof, my head lowered in thought.
Where on earth had I screwed up?
Was it when I trusted Menel with defending against the rear attack? No, given the situation, that had been unavoidable. The choice ultimately resulted in our suffering a near-total defeat and having to flee with our lives, but nevertheless, from where I stood at the time the decision to leave the chimera to Menel wasn’t an obviously bad move. I was pretty sure of that. If I’d gone to handle the chimera myself, there was a chance that everyone else might have been trampled by the charging demons.
The worst moment for us was most likely when we fell for the trap that used the dead body. We had a good number of people, we’d been very successful up until that point, and we were acting a little braver than we should have to insulate ourselves from the shock of having seen the corpses of people we knew. All those factors combined must have resulted in each of us being a little bit careless.
We should have been on alert from the moment we discovered the bodies. We should have been patient and thorough, and sent out scouts in every direction. If we’d done that, we wouldn’t have aimlessly wandered into a wide-open valley and gotten lured into a battle where we were at such a disadvantage.
So the cause of this failure was a very, very simple lack of caution. We got our comeuppance for allowing ourselves to get distracted in enemy territory and take careless actions. End of story.
And yet—
There was something... something that didn’t feel quite right about this explanation. I was overlooking something critical. I could feel it. What was it? What hadn’t I realized...?
I was lying on my back with my head full of this feeling I couldn’t place when I heard voices through the thin walls.
“Forced to retreat, huh...”
“Unbelievable, right? It’s the Wyvern Killer and the Penetrator we’re talking about here.”
“There was some unearthly big chimera thing there, I heard. A horrible mix of different beasts.”
“What’s the plan to deal with that?”
“Beats me.”
“That mixed elf guy got injured badly too, you hear about that?”
“Yeah, he’s got it rough. He shouldn’t let himself get roped into the kinda battles the Wyvern Killer fights, it’s just suicidal. The guy’s a monster.”
The two of them—adventurers, I thought—passed by outside, probably completely unaware that I’d been able to hear their conversation.
A black realization flickered into my mind. Now I saw it. It wasn’t the strategy. It was the strength of our forces.
In my mind, someone talked in a sticky voice.
I trusted Menel to have my back. I thought that even if we were faced with a powerful enemy, Menel would be able to stave it off for a little while if I left it to him. And when the chimera appeared, I thought the same, as if it were a totally natural expectation.
However, what was the reality? Menel couldn’t put up any resistance against the chimera at all. He wasn’t as strong as I’d been casually expecting. I’d assigned him more danger than he could handle, innocently, without thinking twice about it. I treated him like a friend, and I just thought he could handle that much—
“Oh...”
It was all fitting together now. Something came crawling out of the very darkest part of my heart. It was probably something I’d been unconsciously trying to avoid confronting. I’d been putting it out of my mind, but I wasn’t going to avert my eyes from it anymore.
By this world’s standards, my level of strength was completely insane.
I had been told this countless times since leaving the city of the dead, both explicitly and not so explicitly. And every time, I’d smiled humbly and politely, and let those words pass me by.
Why hadn’t I thought about this until now? I’d probably unconsciously been avoiding thinking too deeply about it. No matter how much everyone around me praised my abilities, I kept on being modest. I elevated all the other skilled people I met, and felt shame at my immaturity. Because otherwise, it would have meant admitting it.
No matter how pitiable the people I met were, no matter how horrible the sights I saw were, I avoided feeling sorry for anyone. I just tried to be a good problem solver. Because otherwise, it would have meant admitting it.
That we weren’t equal.
And once I admitted that—
Once I recognized that I was above them, and everyone else was far, far below me—
Once I started to realize that asking someone to fight alongside me might be forcing a terrible burden upon them—
I could never be like them. Not like those three. Having each other’s back, supporting each other, respecting each other. I’d never have friends like that. Because I would be alone.