3 years.

A span of time that was enough to repeat the four seasons thrice.

It wasn’t a short amount of time at all. Yet, it was far too little to conclude a single life.

“Short, isn’t it?”

“Is that so?”

“You really scraped the bottom, huh?”

Raniel forced a smile.

She had been living at the cost of her life. It wasn’t hard to imagine what three years meant.

“I haven’t heard that heroes can trade with stars.”

“I thought so too.”

“That means…”

“Yes, it’s true we made a deal.”

Galahal began to reveal the secret he had been hiding.

Though it was a concealed story, he felt a sense of relief as he spoke it.

“It was the day I lost all my companions. I was crushed by my powerlessness. When I looked up at the night sky that day, the stars twinkled unusually brightly.”

A star shining distinctly like platinum.

A star that the Deloheim Church worshiped as a god.

“That day, I heard the voice of the star for the first time.”

The original hero hears the voice of the stars.

However, Galahal, who had been gifted little starlight, had never heard the star’s voice. So, that day was the first time he ever heard it.

“The star asked me.”

Galahal spread his palm.

“It asked whether I desired light. Whether I wished to grasp what is unattainable. It asked if I was ready to offer anything as payment.”

What Galahal would answer to that was already decided.

He answered, and the star returned with a response.

【The deal was established.】

“I replied that if I could, I would offer anything. Then, a balance appeared before me.”

What should be placed on it?

What could be obtained by offering something as payment?

“That was a balance converting the time given to me into currency.”

Though Galahal had no magical talent, the moment he faced the balance, he instinctively understood it. How to use it. And what it would take as payment.

When he realized that, he didn’t feel fear. Instead, it was the opposite.

“I felt relieved.”

Galahal forced a smile.

“With this, I won’t have to let go anymore. I can do more. Even I, someone like this… can do something.”

He thought so.

He moved while thinking so.

“Whenever I lacked power, whenever I felt like I would lose something, I used the balance.”

He used it again and again.

He shortened his own life to prolong someone else’s. Over the past few years, Galahal placed half of his lifespan onto the balance.

“Until I can no longer do so.”

Galahal snapped his fingers.

Starlight, gathered in the air, took the shape of a balance. Galahal placed his hand on the balance, but… it didn’t budge. As if it wouldn’t allow any more trades.

“The star warned me that if I traded more, I would die.”

“… So, that’s why you want to retire?”

“Yes. The Knights Order Leader seemed to have discerned that I used an abnormal means and advised me to retire.”

Galahal waved his hand.

The balance melted away into the air. After staring at the spot where the balance had vanished for some time, Galahal slowly spoke.

“Raniel.”

“Yeah.”

“I have something I want to ask.”

“Go ahead.”

“…”

Galahal opened his mouth but then shut it again.

His pressed lips didn’t part easily. He wanted to say something, yet connecting the words in his mind into a coherent sentence wasn’t easy.

A bit of time passed.

In the end, Galahal opened his mouth with difficulty.

“… Raniel, I know you also sacrificed your lifespan. I am aware that the time allowed to you isn’t much either.”

“That’s true.”

Galahal slowly wove his sentences together.

“You…”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

Raniel’s body flinched.

She slowly turned her head to look at Galahal. He was staring down at the ground beside her.

“I am afraid.”

That profile was different from the usual Galahal.

“Of course, I don’t regret sacrificing my lifespan. Even if the moment comes again, I would do the same. But, but…”

He wasn’t the hero standing before everyone.

He wasn’t the most heroic hero called Galahal.

“The fact that the time left for me is short, that I can no longer live as a hero, that I will die without finding an answer…”

A human afraid of death.

A human trembling in fear.

“That is incredibly frightening.”

What’s here now is just a human.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

The human asks the Wise One.

It poses a question to the Wise One, who seems flawless and doesn’t fear even death…

To that question, the Wise One groans.

2.

Galahal asked if the impending death didn’t frighten her.

He posed a question to the Wise One.

To the one who seemed perfect, transcending even the fear of death, he asked. Thus, Galahal sought an answer to his anguish.

The Wise One, Raniel van Trias.

She knew the answer that Galahal sought.

As a Wise One, answering Galahal’s anguish wasn’t difficult. She could just spout ideal stories. She could share an idealistic narrative crafted like a painting.

Anyone can speak of ideals.

Therefore, the value of ideals is determined by the speaker, not the ideals themselves. As the speaker of ideals, how suitable is the Wise One, Raniel van Trias?

Perfectly suitable.

Living by just principles, the Wise One who has led a life akin to an illustrated hero would definitely enunciate valuable ideals.

However.

Raniel didn’t want that.

“Aren’t you afraid, Raniel?”

She, who had always sought perfection, looked at Galahal. He too pursued perfection. Yet, he was currently asking questions just as a single human.

Then,

As a human herself, she would have to answer that question.

“Of course not.”

Raniel exhaled shortly.

What she exhaled wasn’t just breath. Her shoulders, which were always tense, lowered. The muscles in her expression, which had maintained a blank look, relaxed.

“Of course, it would be terrifying.”

Thus, the voice that came out was lighter than ever.

“Sorry, Galahal.”

Raniel smiled bittersweetly at Galahal.

Galahal, wide-eyed, stared back at Raniel.

“I’m not that much different.”

“… What?”

“I think you, Kyle, Destel… all misunderstand. So, let me just say it.”

Something she had never shared with anyone.

Something she never intended to mention to anyone.

Raniel started to disclose it.

“I’m not perfect like you all think, not fearless, and not some extraordinary being that doesn’t resemble a human…”

Given the way she appeared, it was natural for them to misunderstand. Thinking that, she continued speaking.

“I’m the same.”

With her voice drained of strength, Raniel continued.

“It’s horrifying, even seeing people die on the battlefield. Even if I raise a toast with my fellow knights, I lose sleep when they return as corpses that night. It’s terrifying to realize that death happening up close may not just be someone else’s story. How could I not be afraid?”

Not as the Wise One, Raniel van Trias.

“When facing calamities, when everything I’ve built gets denied, I feel like I could go mad. Skebal might have found an answer somehow. But you faced the Gletus? Have you seen the armies he commands?”

Just an ordinary human, Raniel burst into laughter.

“Does that even make sense? Damn.”

“…”

“Even if I burn all my circuits to unleash spells, it’s difficult to take down just one Carapace Dragon. They come in groups of five or so, and that’s not even the end. All kinds of beasts follow the Carapace Dragons. Truly, it’s endless.”

Those things.

Those absurd monsters.

“Every time I encounter that crazy thing, do you know what I do?”

Raniel extended her hand.

Now she was fine, but she recalled her previously ragged fingers and continued to laugh.

“I cut off my fingers. Twist my arms. If that doesn’t work, I sacrifice my lifespan. That’s all I can do. I can’t even kill them.”

Moreover, Raniel added.

“What about Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade?”

There was no reply.

“Haven’t you ever faced the Demon Lord? When you see him, you just want to laugh, seriously.”

There was absolutely no sign of relief.

“When facing such things… do you think I wouldn’t be afraid? I’m scared. I feel like going mad from fear. But, what will that accomplish?”

Raniel knows.

“Even if I can’t find the answer, I must seek it.”

That many knights sacrificed their lives for such a self as her. That she stands atop their corpses.

“Someone has to do it; someone has to find the answer.”

For the sake of the Wise One, they voluntarily sacrificed their lives. Believing that she would do something for them, many walked into danger. Too many did.

“Even if I’m scared, even if I don’t want to, even if I want to run away, I can’t. I mustn’t. It’s my duty. It’s something I have to do, something I can do more than others.”

Because she had to, she had done it.

Because she needed to be perfect, she lived perfectly.

“I’m not immune to fear. I want to choose stability just like Kyle does. I want to settle in the present, and think I’ve done well enough.”

But, Raniel said.

“Anyone else could do just that. They didn’t die for me in hopes of merely reaching that. I have a duty to bear their sacrifice.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s a compulsion or a mental illness.

Raniel can’t avert her gaze from her duty. She can’t rationalize herself with a “this is enough.”

“So I must. I must be perfect. As if I feel no fear, as if I feel nothing… just perfect.”

That is all.

The entirety of the Wise One, whom even heroes demonstrate respect toward.

Everyone perceives her as perfect. Yet, her insides are already decaying. Just as a human who has stayed on the battlefield for too long, Raniel’s interior is also rotten to the core.

“Hoo…”

It was a thought she had never shared with anyone.

After laying all of it bare, Raniel exhaled deeply.

“Did you say the approaching death scares you, Galahal?”

“… Yes.”

“It’s natural to be afraid. You can’t escape fear. Until that moment when the three years end, fear will follow you closely. The same goes for anguish.”

It’s a cruel story.

Galahal bit his lip.

“Then I…”

“That’s why it holds meaning.”

Galahal swallowed nervously. Raniel regarded him with a faint smile.

“During the time you have left, agonize over what you can do. What can I achieve during this time? What can I leave behind?”

It was a concern Raniel had continually pondered as well.

“I don’t know what your answer will be… but in my case.”

Raniel recalled the students who attended Apuria, and Chloe, who was currently on the battlefield.

“It’s about nurturing disciples.”

“Disciples… you mean?”

“Yeah, disciples. The kids I teach. The kids who are growing because of me.”

It’s common for a mage to take on disciples.

Since humans cannot live for more than a century, mages take on apprentices to pass down their lifelong magic.

Thus, for centuries, the history of magic has continued. Onward to the next, and again to the next.

“Those kids will rise to high positions in the future. They might even reach higher than me. And among them, some might achieve what I couldn’t.”

Her life would be infused in the paths they walk.

“What I hoped for, what dreams I couldn’t let go of will continue through those kids.”

“Next, onwards to the next.”

Just as the original heroes did, Raniel merely chose the same answer. She isn’t alone. All humans are making similar choices.

Because they fear death.

Because they fear that they might leave behind nothing.

Yet still, they strive to leave something meaningful behind.

Humans endlessly pass on the meaning to the next, and again to the next.

“Well, I’m not planning to give up on capturing the Demon Lord just yet… but who knows what the future holds.”

“… Is that so?”

Galahal bowed his head deeply.

A smile lingered at his lips. Exhaling shortly, Galahal lifted his head.

“Because we fear, because we agonize, that is what gives meaning. Didn’t I say that?”

“Indeed.”

“I seem to be applying it well already.”

Raniel let out a chuckle.

“What will you do from now on?”

“Just like you said, I’ll have to think about it from now on. Three years isn’t that short a time after all.”

Galahal exhaled briefly.

With a slightly relieved expression, he muttered.

“If I search, there should be at least one thing out there.”

“What is it?”

“Something only I can do.”

“That’s something I’ve been hearing a lot lately.”

“I’m promoting it as my motto.”

Raniel chuckled lightly.

Galahal also laughed brightly as he swept back his tousled hair.

Having found each other in similar circumstances, they exchanged glances and laughed heartily.

3.

“Before I retire, there’s something I need to deal with.”

Just as Galahal was about to leave, he said in a much lighter voice. I tilted my head and looked at him.

“What is it?”

“Actually, it’s the most pressing issue I should address first. My absence will surely affect the front lines.”

“That’s true…”

One hero’s absence won’t have negligible effects on the battlefield. Just simple calculations would reveal numerous issues rising.

“Even if Chloe is to succeed me… there will inevitably be a gap in that time.”

Galahal sighed.

“So I want to stay a bit longer on the battlefield, but the Knights Order Leader firmly told me to spend my remaining time peacefully.”

“Heinkel isn’t wrong.”

Those who have served humanity must receive due rewards. Heinkel is someone who thinks that way. He probably doesn’t want to see Galahal collapse on the battlefield, having exhausted his life.

‘And…’

If he remains on the battlefield, Galahal will assuredly place all of his remaining three years on the balance once more. That isn’t a prediction, but rather a near certainty.

Galahal dying on the battlefield.

If the knights were to witness that, it would bring forth consequences far beyond the mere retirement of Galahal. Perhaps, Heinkel had considered that too.

“How to fill my vacant spot…”

“About that.”

I stopped in my tracks.

“I do have an idea.”

“Really?”

“After a delay caused by unexpected cracks, I’ve been researching various things, but it should be fine now.”

I slipped my hand into my robe.

What I grasped between my fingers was a round cup.

“It’s quite difficult to pass through, and the number of folks capable of using it is very few… but…”

I pulled it out.

“Maybe, just maybe, there’s one person who can use it.”

Upon seeing what I held up, Galahal’s eyes opened wide.

“That is…?”

“A Holy Grail.”

I shook the cup in front of Galahal.

“It’s a miraculous artifact.”

*