Chapter 3: Sentimentality Belongs in Dreams

This was the Holy Land Leyline—headquarters of the Sanctum Church, where Exorcists gathered.

In the original game, this was the hub for buying equipment, training stats, and picking up side quests.

And right now, two women stood in front of the mission board, bickering over one such quest.

"This one looks good!"

"Agreed. A mid-rank demon—perfect for us."

"Plus, it's by the sea! We can go shopping after. They say the seashell jewels there are amazing!"

"...Lili, stop wasting money.""It's not wasting! Fashion is an investment!"

The saying goes that three women make a market, but these two were plenty noisy on their own. Their eyes stayed glued to the posted request.

Exorcist missions came in two types:

• Assigned Requests—direct orders from priests to specific Exorcists.

• Optional Requests—posted on the board, open to anyone.

The paper they were eyeing was the latter—leftover missions unworthy of direct assignment.

Taking these was all about padding your resume and pocket money. Exorcists who chased Optional Requests ranked up faster than those who stuck to assignments.

Or, to put it bluntly—these were the game's side quests.

Most were just filler. But a few? They determined character fates.

That’s why I checked this board every morning.

And right now, my focus was locked onto the two women—one red-haired, one blue-haired—both clad in the purple robes of mid-rank Exorcists.

I’d never met them. Never spoken to them.

But I knew who they were.

Because they were original characters.

I eyed the request they’d just peeled off the board:

"Exterminate a mid-rank demon."

Just as Exorcists had ranks, so did demons—rough estimates by the Church based on past destruction and projected threat levels.

A mid-rank Exorcist should handle a mid-rank demon.

And these two were partners. Two versus one. Even safer.

In theory.

If the demon was truly mid-rank.

I sidled up behind them—

"Ooooh~ This quest looks fun~"

—And snatched the paper right out of their hands.

"Hey! You can't just—"

The redhead whirled around… then froze.

Her eyes flicked to my robes—a higher rank.

The blue-haired one reacted slower, her gaze sharp with suspicion. I fluttered the paper tauntingly.

"Mind if I take this~?"

"Wh—why would you—"

"Hmm? Got a problem~?"

"...N-no."

The redhead bit back her protest. The Church preached that rank didn’t equal authority, but fear of superiors was hardwired.

The bluehead, though? She glared.

"Return that. We claimed it first."

"M-Mia, stop! She's—!"

Mia—the blue-haired Exorcist—shook her head.

"Lili, just because she's upper-rank doesn’t mean we roll over."

"But...!"

Lili, the redhead, shrank under my gaze.

In the game, these two were recruitable allies… who died.

Their deaths? Triggered by this very quest.

Marked "mid-rank," but in truth, an upper-rank demon lurked there. If the protagonist didn’t intervene, one of them would perish—and the survivor would follow soon after.

This slip of paper was a tragedy flag.

And now I had to stop them.

Telling them the truth wouldn’t work—they’d never believe a stranger without proof.

So I did what I do best.

I scoffed, looking down at Mia (despite her being taller).

"Pfft~ You haven't even registered it with a priest yet. Doesn't that make it fair game~?"

"You stole it from our hands! That’s hardly—"

"Ohhh? Is that written in the Church doctrine? News to me~"

"That’s not—"

"Exactly~ Stop pushing your make-believe rules on me. It's gross."

Mia bit her lip, frustration flickering in her eyes.

She knew I wasn’t technically breaking any rules—just ignoring basic decency. And without a solid argument, all she had was emotion.

After a brief hesitation, she spoke again, her earlier fire dimmed.

“…You’re an upper-rank Exorcist. What reason could you possibly have to take a mid-rank request from us?”

“Upper-rank requests aren’t even posted here, genius. Didn’t you know that?”

The board never listed upper-rank demon hunts. There were too few upper-rank Exorcists—only sixteen, including me—to make public postings worthwhile. Those missions were always assigned directly by priests.

Of course, only upper ranks and the clerical staff knew that. No surprise these two were clueless.

“B-but still—!”

Mia tried again, but I stuck out my tongue.

“I’m saying you’re not cut out for this~?”

“It’s a mid-rank demon! We’re mid-rank Exorcists—!”

“Ohhh? Are you? You reek of low-rank to me! My bad~!”

A blatant lie. Exorcist ranks were color-coded by robe. This was pure mockery.

And they knew it.

“Give it back!”

Mia lunged—fast. She grabbed for the request.

I caught her wrist, yanked her forward, hooked my foot behind her knee—

“Ghk—!”

—and sent her crashing onto the marble floor.

“So barbaric~”

“M-Mia!”

The tiles were unforgiving. No time for ether-reinforced defense, no proper breakfall. Not that it mattered—Exorcists were tough. She’d live with just a bruise.

I stood over her, grinning.

“Paaathetic~ No shame? Exorcists who can’t gauge their opponents die young, y’know~”

“…Tch!”

She glared up, teeth gritted. I scoffed.

“Just admit defeat, weakling. Maybe quit while you’re—”

“I-I’m sorry!”

Lili—the redhead—cut me off, bowing deeply. She stepped between us, shielding Mia, her voice trembling but steady.

She was scared. But she stood her ground.

I glanced down at Mia, still on the floor.

Mia, unyielding even against stronger foes.
Lili, bowing her head to protect her friend.

Neither were bad people.

They were good Exorcists.

The real problem was—

"Hah? What, trying to paint me as the villain here?"

The real villain...

...was me.

I wore a thick mask of amusement as I hurled insults at them.

Mia's face twisted in frustration, while Lili bowed her head to me in apology.

"N-no... that's not... I'm sorry... for Mia's behavior..."

She didn’t actually believe Mia was in the wrong. But she understood that apologizing was the quickest way to protect her friend.

...My goal wasn’t to torment them.

Just to steal this mission.

So I accepted her apology with a nod.

"Good. Don’t pick a fight with me again."

With that, I turned my back on them, gripping the request sheet tightly.

In the reflection of the whitewashed walls, I caught a glimpse of them—Lili helping Mia up, Mia gripping her hand with a look of guilt.

They had a strong bond. A good partnership.

And that was exactly why they wouldn’t survive long in this world.

In this world, the Exorcists who tried hardest to protect others were always the first to die.

Those who reached beyond their limits to shield someone... met brutal ends.

I exhaled quietly and walked away.

---

"Got us a mission. We're heading out now."

That was all Elsie said before dropping the news on me out of nowhere.

I scrambled to get ready. Today was supposed to be my day off—I’d planned to train with Froila at the practice grounds.

Ever since Elsie had beaten me black and blue that day, I’d been asking Froila for extra training. I wanted to close the gap between us, even just a little.

Thankfully, Froila was usually holed up in the Holy Land Leyline. Not because she was a Saint bearing a Miracle Sign—no, she was just a regular upper-rank Exorcist (though, well, being upper-rank at all was hardly regular).

But she’d lost all motivation for the job.

Before her partner died, she’d apparently taken on both assigned and optional requests. Now? She barely did the bare minimum.

No new partner. No optional missions.

Probably because—

…I sighed, pushing the thought aside.

With my gear packed, I followed Elsie to the train station.

"So, Elsie... why the sudden mission?"
"Hmm? Felt like it~?"

She answered without a hint of guilt, slinging her bag over her shoulder. I trailed behind with a wry smile.

As her partner, I had no choice but to tag along.

Exorcists operated under the Buddy System—a rule meant to boost success rates and survival odds. Two were stronger than one, sure, but more importantly...

If a lone Exorcist fell to a demon, the Church would never learn the truth. But with a partner, at least one could escape and report back.

That’s why most Exorcists paired up.

Like me and Elsie.

On the train, she handed me the request sheet.

A coastal town by the southern sea. At night, eerie howls echoed from the water—some claimed to have seen a demon the size of a house.

No casualties yet. A mid-rank request.

...So why had Elsie taken this mission so suddenly?

She’d said it was a whim, but that didn’t sound like her. Probably.

There had to be another reason—

"Alright, I’m napping. Wake me when we get there."
"Uh, sure."

The sun was still up, but had she stayed up late last night? Or woken early to grab this request?

As I pondered, she covered her mouth with her hand.

"Just so you know~, I won’t forgive any funny business."

…She grinned slyly. I frantically shook my head.

"I-I’d never!"

"Really? You’re such a pervert, I don’t trust you~."

"A perv—? N-no I’m not!"

"Oh? So you wouldn’t peek under my skirt?"

"Of course not!"

"Ehh~? You’re protesting too hard~."

She giggled at my desperate denials, and I swallowed my irritation with a sigh.

Arguing was pointless.

On the contrary, every time I countered her once, she'd fire back three insults.

The only winning move against her taunts was silence.

Maybe my lack of reaction bored her—she turned her gaze out the window as the train lurched forward.

Outside, the scenery unfolded:

The cityscape of Holy Leyline, its stone walls towering.
Lines of pilgrims marching toward the sacred grounds.
Then, as we distanced ourselves from the capital, buildings thinned, giving way to sprawling nature—endless blue skies and emerald fields swallowing the view.

The rhythmic clack-clack of the train lulled me until—

"...Haaah... nn..."

—Elsie's soft breathing drew my attention.

Gone was her usual sharp-tongued bravado. Now, she slept quietly, her expression unguarded.

It was easy to forget beneath all that condescension... but objectively, she was painfully cute.

"............"

I couldn't look away.

This wasn't the face of someone always sneering or pissed off.
Instead, she looked almost... fragile. Like a child separated from her mother, her brows faintly knitted in unease.

"...Tch."

I forced my eyes back to the window.

It felt wrong to stare—like I was peeking at some hidden part of her I wasn't meant to see.

So I watched the passing landscape instead, her steady breaths in my ears, and sank deeper into my seat.

Elsie slept.
The compartment was empty.
And boredom left me drowning in thoughts—today's mission, the days ahead, her—all swirling and sinking in my mind like debris.

A chaotic, looping train of thought until—

—until—

—I remembered the day we first met.

I met her a year ago.

Three months after becoming an Exorcist of the Holy Burial Church.

Back then, I was a failure.

Not to make excuses—but the experience gap between me and the others was staggering.
Every other new Exorcist had lost family to demons as children, trained in monasteries their whole lives.

Not me.

I became an Exorcist a year ago.
Decided to become one a year ago.

No grand reason.
My Day of Misfortune just came later than theirs.

I should be grateful for that—
No. Scratch that.
I should’ve wished it never came at all.

Even now, I still think that sometimes.
But thoughts don’t change reality.

The others became Exorcists out of hatred—for the demons that slaughtered their loved ones.
But me? I didn’t hate them that much.

I just thought—
If demons made people die senseless deaths, like my family did...
Then someone had to stop them.

That was it.
A flimsy, half-baked motive compared to the rest.

And in the end, I became a washout Exorcist who couldn’t even secure a partner.
No burning drive to race toward death.

Then—

"Huh? You can’t even chant scripture? Pathetic excuse for an Exorcist~!"

The only one who ever talked to me was... Elsie.

Brash. Unfiltered. Elsie.

We were the same age, but she’d been an Exorcist far longer—raised in the fold since childhood.
And she outranked me. One of the rare high-tier Exorcists.

Stronger than me, too.
By leagues.
In power, knowledge, resolve.

Yet for some reason—

"Decided! Starting today... You’re my official partner."

She forced the title on me. No objections allowed.

We went on missions. I nearly died. Repeatedly.
She was high-tier—fighting mid-tier demons each time.
I was bottom-tier. A rookie.

But after each brush with death, I pushed harder. Got saved. Pushed harder again.
Before I knew it, I’d grown strong. Stronger than I’d ever been before meeting her.

"Elsie, you’re—"

"Honorifics with someone your own age? Cringe~."

The way she looked down on me was... different from the others.
I couldn’t pinpoint why.

Even when sneering, there was something in her eyes—
—something that saw me.

"Then... just ‘Elsie’?"

"What?"

She wasn’t like the others.

She rarely praised me. Mocked me constantly.
But still—

"...Why’d you pick me as your partner?"

"Dunno. Just... less trash than the rest. Don’t let it go to your head~."

She never gave up on me.

No matter how weak I was.
No matter how pathetic.

That’s exactly why… I can’t afford to lean on her.

I won’t hold her back.
I’ll become strong enough to protect her.
I want her to think, "Choosing him as my partner was worth it."

"...Nn… uh…"

A faint sound pulls me back to reality.

My gaze lands on her sleeping face, then drifts to the bracer on her arm—decorative at a glance, but really there to hide the wound from our last high-tier mission.

In the end, I’m still just dead weight.
Always needing her to save me.

Sure, a demon dealt that wound… but I was the reason she ended up in that position.
Which means I might as well have hurt her myself.

My fist clenches, trembling with frustration.

I have to get stronger.

Strong enough to protect someone as an Exorcist.
Strong enough to stop being her burden.

Then—

Froila’s words echo in my mind:

"Elsie used to be a kind girl… She still is, really. Just wrapped in thorns now."

I know she’s kind.
I know her actions betray her sharp tongue.
That’s why I believed Froila without hesitation.

But what twisted her like this?
Why does she save people, only to push them away?

Froila had one theory.

And it’s probably—

---

I still remember it all.

The sight of my mother being devoured—peeking through the narrow gap of the closet door.

How she never once looked my way in those final moments, keeping the demon from noticing me.

How I hugged my knees in that cramped darkness, choking back tremors, waiting for the horror to pass.

How the people I’d spoken to just yesterday became silent corpses.

And then—

The Exorcist who appeared before me.

That’s why I became one too.

I vowed to erase every tragedy like mine.
Because I thought… that was the duty of those who’d been saved.

I was kind to everyone. Helped whoever was in trouble.
Threw myself into danger to protect others, over and over.

Before I knew it, I had risen to mid-rank Exorcist.

My reach grew wider—more people I could save.
My reputation climbed—more people relied on me.

Back then, I truly believed that was a good thing.

Until two years ago.

"…A partner?"

I tilted my head as Froila—my mentor and guardian—nodded.

"Yes. Two is safer than one. Especially if the worst happens."

"Huh…"

I rested my hand on my chin.

Sure, I had my Miracle Sign—power enough to trade lifespan for strength.
But even with that, my combat ability fell short. There were still people I couldn’t save alone.

But with a partner…?

Most Exorcists worked in pairs.
That fact alone pushed me toward agreement.

"Maybe I should get a partner."

"See? Now that you’re mid-rank, the demons you’ll face are stronger. This is the time."

"Mmm… Then you be my partner, Froila."

A spur-of-the-moment idea.
She was partnerless, after all.
And as a high-rank, she’d be perfect.

Plus… I wanted someone I knew.
Not that I’m shy, but—

"…No. I’m not taking a partner."

"Huh? Why?"

"That’s… not the point right now. You come first."

She dodged the question.
I didn’t press further.

"Then how do I even get one? Most from the monastery are either dead or quit."

Exorcists had high mortality rates.
High dropout rates, too.

Your body breaks… or your mind does.
Only a matter of which comes first.

"…Leave that to me. I have a candidate."

"Oh? Someone in mind?"

"A fellow high-rank’s apprentice. Around your age. Pretty sure they’re partnerless."

"Girl or boy?"

"Girl."

I exhaled in relief.

Exorcist partners spend too much time together—missions, downtime, everything.
With the opposite sex… complications arise.

…Well, are men even the "opposite" to me?
Hard to say.

The discussion ended there.
Later, I’d meet her at Holy Leyline.

I followed Froila through the church corridors, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the window. Absentmindedly, I twisted a strand of pale pink hair while smoothing the wrinkles in my purple robes.

"Elsie, what are you doing?"

"Huh?"

I hadn’t realized I’d stopped walking until Froila’s exasperated sigh snapped me back to reality. Flustered, I scrambled for an excuse.

"F-first impressions matter, right?"

Froila shook her head. "Honestly." She kept walking, forcing me to hurry after her.

We soon arrived at our destination. Before I could brace myself, Froila announced our arrival, and the door swung open.

Inside stood two people—a woman in her late twenties wearing deep red robes and a girl about my age, peeking out from behind her.

The older exorcist greeted Froila with familiarity. "You actually came."

"Been a while. A year?"

"We met six months ago."

"Did we?"

The woman sighed. "Still as careless as ever, I see."

"And you’re still too meticulous."

Judging by her robes, she was another high-ranking exorcist. I recognized her name instantly—Milieu. Long forest-green hair, a composed demeanor, and, from what I remembered, a formidable fighter.

Her sharp eyes turned to me. "You must be Elsie."

"Y-yes!"

"I’m Milieu. A pleasure."

I nodded quickly. The name rang a bell—not just from Froila’s stories, but from the original game. 'Milieu, the Halberd Exorcist,' one of the strongest. But… I didn’t remember her having an apprentice.

"Sherry, introduce yourself properly," she urged.

The girl hiding behind her stepped forward hesitantly. "I-I’m S-Sherry... n-nice to meet you!"

She was trembling. Mint-green hair, darting eyes, stiff posture—she was nervous. Really nervous.

And somehow, that eased my own anxiety. Seeing someone more flustered than me made it easier to relax.

I smiled. "I’m Elsie. Nice to meet you too."

That was two years ago—the day I met 'Sherry the Bardiche Exorcist.' and the beginning of.....

"Elsie... we're here."

"...Nn? Huh?"

A gentle shake pulled me from sleep. As I blinked away the last traces of my dream, Yuri’s face came into focus.

"Look. We’ve arrived."

The sharp scent of salt filled the air, jolting my senses awake. The train had stopped. Through the window, sunlight shimmered on the ocean’s surface, waves stretching endlessly into the horizon.

"...Right."

I stood quickly, shaking off the lingering warmth of those memories. They had been... tender.

(Maybe I wanted to stay in them a little longer.)
(But maybe it was better they ended there.)

Pathetic.

To chase away the sentimentality, I tossed half our luggage at Yuri without warning.

"W-whoa—!?"

"You’re on baggage duty~"

His indignant sputtering made me laugh. I raised a hand to cover my mouth—a habit I hadn’t shaken.

(I’m fine.)
(Still able to laugh like this.)

"...Let’s wrap this up fast, yeah? I want time for sightseeing."

A deep breath filled my lungs, the briny air sharp enough to sting. My eyes watered just a little.

(Only for a moment.)