Master 58

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Let’s rewind a bit, to the moment right before Whitney and the Saint stepped forward in front of everyone.

“I need to borrow Sir Whitney for a moment.”

“……What did you say?”

“I plan to declare him as the Hero.”

At Hestia’s bold words as she approached, Meredia couldn’t believe her ears.

“Don’t worry. I’m well aware of your relationship with Sir Whitney.”

“……”

“I won’t be taking him away from you forever.”

At first, Meredia thought Hestia was simply trying to make a poorly timed joke in this situation.

“Of course, the story might change depending on Sir Whitney’s will.”

But when Meredia saw the grey light radiating from Hestia’s body as she said that, her heart sank, and her eyes turned red.

“Are you out of your mind, Saint?”

Who do you think you are? How dare you try to take what’s mine?

Those words nearly escaped her lips, but Meredia swallowed them with superhuman patience and forced herself to calm down and think.

‘…No, this must be all part of his plan.’

Since Whitney was involved, she had to keep her cool to properly assess the situation.

Based on everything so far, the Saint behaving this way was likely a key part of Whitney’s plan.

Although his younger sisters and subordinates in the back looked confused, Meredia knew Whitney well enough to suspect that even their reactions were calculated.

She had long understood the truth that the closer someone was, the more cautious and strategic one had to be.

If he really intended to betray her for someone like that, then she’d welcome it.

And if, contrary to her thoughts, Whitney truly intended to switch sides here and now, that wasn’t the worst outcome either.

Ever since his foolish and awkward confession in the carriage, Whitney had grown into someone unpredictable and uncontrollable to Meredia.

If he chose to leave her side, maybe that would finally bring peace…

Meredia had never once in her life imagined that someone would love her purely, without reason.

To someone like her, Whitney was nothing but a stressor, a stumbling block, someone she desperately needed to remove from her sight.

“Ugh.”

Yes, that’s how she used to think.

But as the Saint nervously glanced her way before stepping closer to Whitney, Meredia’s right hand began to tremble violently.

‘…Go ahead, just go.’

She knew better than anyone else that this was a sign her emotions were spiraling out of control.

But still, she clenched her jaw and grabbed her trembling right hand with her left.

If she’s really going to cling to him, then let her. Let him disappear from my sight forever.

She’d already resisted the urge to dash forward and grab Whitney’s arm more than a few times, but all Meredia could do was whisper to herself internally.

‘Please… don’t make me feel this damned emotion any longer.’

However, when that wretched Saint linked her arm with Whitney’s, Meredia closed her eyes tightly, and finally muttered the truth she had tried to ignore ever since that day in the carriage.

‘… I never wanted to know. This kind of shitty feeling.’

A girl who had only known hatred and malice… now, for the first time in her life, became aware of a new emotion.

***

What is the Saint’s corruption route?

It’s the worst of the bad endings that can occur during the prologue of the original game.

The conditions to trigger this scenario are roughly as follows: if the Saint fails to awaken after meeting the Hero in the prologue, and completely succumbs to the forces of evil in some way.

Once those two conditions are met, the Saint ceases to be the goddess’s apostle and becomes a fervent follower of evil, contributing to the world’s destruction.

And the key visual indicator is the Saint’s glow—no longer radiant white, but a deep, ominous grey.

‘…I’m screwed.’

Yes, just like Hestia in front of me right now, surrounded by that grey aura.

No wonder I couldn’t see her light clearly when she approached from the shadows—there was a reason.

‘Wait a minute… aren’t I on the side of justice?’

But here’s the confusing part—according to Hestia’s words, I’m the one responsible for her corruption?

But what did I even do?

All I did was kidnap her from the black mages, disguise her as a maid, help her sneak out every night, and summon a demon in front of everyone…

…Okay, maybe I did do quite a bit.

But still! I did all of that for the sake of world peace and Hestia’s safety!

Could it be that this world values the process more than the outcome?

If not, is it possible that the Saint’s subjective judgment plays a huge role in her corruption?

Now that I think about it, didn’t she keep calling me the Demon King earlier…?

From what I know, it’s not widely known, but the Saint doesn’t just get chosen by the divine—she actually chooses the entity she’ll serve.

But still! Even so, shouldn’t it take someone nearly divine—at least a black mage leader or a Demon King—for her to turn evil?

Can she really exhibit that much power just by mistaking a nobody like me for the Demon King?

“Saint, I know it’s sudden, but maybe you should reconsider…”

“Excuse me, do I look like I’m doing this because I want to?”

Sensing that something fundamental might break if this situation continued, I quickly tried to stop Hestia, but she answered firmly.

“No matter how reformed you may seem now, it would’ve been foolish of me to trust you blindly.”

“What are you even saying…?”

“This is all part of my plan—to keep an eye on you, someone destined to become the Demon King.”

At that point, I seriously began to suspect Hestia might be drunk, but unlike her usual drunken state, she didn’t smell of alcohol at all.

“I get to monitor you constantly, and you get a way out of your complicated situation. It’s mutual benefit, right?”

But if Hestia was actually sober, then her logic had a glaring flaw.

“Saint, I don’t mean to be rude, but…”

After a moment of hesitation, I couldn’t resist pointing out the obvious hole in her reasoning.

“…you could just tell everyone I kidnapped you, and it’d all be over, right?”

“……”

“If you think I’m some evil Demon King, why are you trying to help me?”

Hestia stared at me blankly for a moment, then sighed and dropped a completely unexpected bomb.

“Because… you’re a regressor.”

“…What?”

“I don’t know why, but you’re clearly trying to fix past mistakes.”

What in the world is this ghost talking about?

Technically speaking, I’m a reincarnator who remembered my past life.

That has nothing to do with regression.

“That’s why I’m helping you. Does that explain things?”

“…Not at all.”

I don’t know how or when Hestia got such a huge misunderstanding, or why she thinks I’m some regressing Demon King.

But one thing’s certain: this situation is fundamentally, completely wrong.

Which means, as long as I still have some grip on reality, I need to find a way to set things right…

“S-Saint.”

“So? Who is the Hero?”

But just as I was about to speak, the anxious voices of the holy knights cut in—and I realized it was far too late.

…We’re doomed.

Not just the knights, but everyone in the arena, their vision cleared of the black smoke, were now staring directly at me and Hestia.

“If you say no now, I’ll just reveal that you’re the Demon King.”

“……”

“Please don’t waste this perfect chance for redemption…”

And according to Hestia whispering beside me, if I were to say I wasn’t the Hero here, it was all too obvious what would happen to me.

And when that moment came, I didn’t even have the power to protect Meredia, Cecil, and my subordinates who were holding their breath and watching the situation from behind.

“Ahahaha….”

In the end, letting go of everything, I let out a brief laugh of surrender.

“Yes, that’s right.”

I forced a shameless smile, stepped forward, and could do nothing but make the declaration that would twist the very foundation of the original game’s story.

“I am the Hero.”

And the next moment, as thunderous cheers erupted from all around, I quietly closed my eyes and murmured to myself.

‘I guess I’ll have to give up on relying too much on the original story.’

Though, honestly, what worried me more was the murderous aura piercing through the cheers—coming from Meredia.

At any rate, the long and drawn-out rookie selection had come to an end.

***

“L-Lord…!”

“…Huh?”

Just when I thought everything had wrapped up nicely, it happened.

“H-Hiiik!”

“Sasha? What are you doing here…?”

I turned my head at the familiar voice from behind, and there she was—Sasha, covered in dust, panting as she stood just behind me.

“I-I was watching from the stands with my brother. So…”

“I mean, that’s fine, but why are you here?”

Naturally confused since Sasha had no reason to be behind me right now, I asked, and after a moment of hesitation, she pulled something out from her clothes and stammered.

“Y-You… gave this to me, remember? The T-Trickster’s Pouch…”

“…What?”

“P-Par-Parsha told me to open it only after everything was over, so the moment I did, I just ran down here…”

What she pulled out really did look almost identical to the pouch I had entrusted to Parsha.

But I do have a conscience—I never gave such a pouch to Sasha.

So could there have been some kind of mix-up?

“A-And there was a note inside saying this would be needed…”

“…Ha.”

Even as I thought that, I absentmindedly took the pouch she handed over, and when I checked what was inside, I couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“S-Sorry!?”

“No, you don’t need to apologize.”

It must’ve been something Parsha prepared on her own, separate from my orders.

And truly, it was a stroke of genius.

Because inside was exactly what I needed most in this situation.

“…Don’t come.”

And so, accepting it, I began walking across the arena once more, drawing puzzled stares from everyone.

In the distance, I heard a voice, subdued but firm.

“I said don’t come, Whitney Lingard.”

Though she had been standing still all this time, exuding cold energy, Meredia murmured more softly the closer I got.

“I’m really not needed anymore, am I? So just…”

“…That’s enough, my lady.”

Still, she didn’t take a step back.

I stopped in front of her, put on the gentlest smile I could muster, and knelt before her.

“It’s time you stop lying to yourself.”

“……”

“Why do you think I’ve gone through all this trouble?”

Then, handing her the item Sasha had brought like a buzzer-beater, I said to her blank expression:

“All of it was for this moment.”

Feeling a bit guilty, but still with a smile of goodwill, I slipped it onto Meredia’s finger.

“You’re a noble lady, after all. I had to do this much, right? Haha…”

“You…”

The second treasure from the Imperial Vault—originally meant to be a gift for Meredia once everything was over.

“…Will you marry me, my lady?”

The Ring of Fortune, said to have once been gifted by the second Hero to his disciple, quietly sparkled in the sunlight as it rested in her hand.

“…Ugh.”

Of course, once she had the ring on her finger, the way she bowed her head and made that strange expression again… it didn’t exactly scream “blissful bride,” but still.

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