A voice from behind wraps around my body.
The sensation I felt after falling into this world, an endless fatigue.
The feeling that made me shiver every time I entered a dungeon.
Since the moment the Evil God of the End intervened, the unpleasantness that weighed heavily around me intensified.
It’s hard to even imagine moving my body.
It feels as if I’ve been suddenly thrown into the depths of the ocean—my physical movements are unnatural, breathing is difficult, and the weight on my shoulders makes my legs tremble.
“Thank you very much, Apostle of God. If my foolish apostle’s plan succeeds, I would be in quite a predicament myself.”
Struggling to endure the pressure, I eventually collapsed under the sensation of someone tapping my shoulder.
I simply couldn’t bear the existence behind me.
Ridiculous.
There’s no way there should be this much difference!
How could the Evil God of the End, who had lost most of his power with the start of the Age of Myth, possess such strength?
Feeling cold sweat continuously trickling down, I turned my gaze around.
There wasn’t much difference with the others.
My friends. The human forces standing on the front line. And the monsters opposing those forces.
Everyone was bowing their heads before a singular existence.
“Your plan isn’t completely off. It’s true that the authority of the End weakens when the Age of Myth begins. However, what you didn’t consider is that there exists a greater flow in this world.”
“No way.”
When the Pope, having escaped the authority of the End, spoke in shock, Agra snorted.
“You simply didn’t recognize it. Such things aren’t comprehensible by mere pests of the land, ha ha ha. How unfortunate for you. If you had become an Evil God and time had passed, you might have learned this.”
Hearing the words of the Evil God, I recalled the game called Soul Academy.
Until now, my actions had been leading towards the ending of that game.
If the game’s ending is what the Evil God refers to, then Agra’s power is likely far greater than I anticipated.
“Apostle of God. Oh, damned Apostle of God. Pests of this world, desperately trying to prevent its end. Do you understand? Even if Armadi comes here, nothing will change. He cannot prevent the end of the world that comes with this era.”
Why didn’t I think of that? Did I consider the game to be just a game?
Given that it’s created by the Shoddy God, it’s natural for the ending to hold some meaning.
“I thought of something fun. Remember when I talked about your curse before? Do you know why I said such things? Because your curse isn’t a simple curse.”
I wondered if he was going to discuss the usefulness of the Mesugaki Skill, but the moment Agra’s hand touched my head, I realized my own vulnerability.
With that playful smile, glaring at me with malice, there’s no way Agra would talk about some provocation skill.
It’s something more fundamental.
My mind.
While I only complained about the demerits of the Mesugaki Skill, I never imagined this.
“Have you ever found it strange? That someone who never received proper training gained willpower in an instant. That you possess a steel-like mind, unbreakable by any trial.”
I’ve had extraordinary resilience since I stepped into the world of Soul Academy.
With just one sip, I could down a wickedly terrible drink simply because it was effective.
It wasn’t just a matter of hardship; even in situations where I could hardly move a fingertip, I kept pushing forward.
Before facing the threat of death for the first time, I could chitter away, fired up, and after enduring countless hardships, I never broke.
I always did my best.
Is it reasonable to endure all that pain just because I was in the rotten waters of Soul Academy?
Can I truly withstand all suffering simply because I could feel my growth from a miserable life in my past, and the fact that I stepped into a world I loved?
Even if my life was at risk, is it realistic to only look ahead without compromising with reality?
“You’ll naturally come to know the moment your curse ends.”
If the foundation of all I’ve done is the Mesugaki Skill, what will happen when this skill disappears?
“You’ll realize the truth—that your curse has supported you.”
The first thing I felt was the pain coursing through my entire body.
Muscles tearing, bones breaking, guts twisting—pain so severe it made my body writhe.
I’d rather lose consciousness; the pain was so intense it made me contemplate biting my tongue and dying, not allowing me to even scream.
As I trembled while clutching both shoulders, all sorts of negative thoughts flooded my mind.
I don’t want to die.
No, if it’s like this, I’d rather want to die.
How have I managed this so far?
Why do I have to stake my life for those jerks?
What have those trashy bastards done for me?
Aren’t those pieces of shit hoping for the salvation of a single girl better off dead?
After all, I was just a gaming addict, stuck in my corner.
There’s no way I could fight properly.
I.
I.
I am.
Breath quickening.
Thoughts cutting off due to panic.
Tears leaking out.
Amidst all that, voices tainted by defeat seeped through.
“Ha ha ha! How very human-like! Curse Armadi, who cast you into hell! Curse the Lord who cannot save you!”
Hearing that gleeful voice, I looked at the pair of trembling hands in my vision.
Lucy’s, my tiny hand.
Despite its small, cute appearance, it was rough and firm—a child’s hand that wasn’t childlike at all.
The hand of a warrior, not that of a Young Lady from a noble family.
A hand forged through struggle to protect something.
A hand I have that isn’t at all shameful because I earned it to protect those I love.
“And face the end of this world in resignation!”
Ah, right.
What I wanted to protect wasn’t something grand like this world.
I simply wished for the things I love to remain.
My friends. Acquaintances. Family.
I traveled this far because I wanted everyone who loves me to continue living happily.
What happens to others is none of my business.
Let them be saved as they please, let them sing their praises.
I just want to protect this everyday life.
I strengthen my trembling hands.
Forcing my hands to grip tighter, pushing against the ground with all my strength.
I strike my legs, which want to crumble, to force my strength into them.
Even so, I struggled to stand and finally stood on the ground with both feet, clutching my thighs.
Then, I raised my middle finger at Agra, who was staring at me blankly.
“F. F* off! Heh. Heh. Sloppy! You bugs are nothing! I’m not scared at all?!”
This bravado, so obvious even to myself.
Anyone looking at me would scoff.
Even as I expected to burst into tears, I looked weak enough to rush in.
Truly pathetic, yet so what?
It’s a cliché that the Mesugaki is actually sloppy, after all.
“How did this happen?”
“I–I don’t know! Maybe it’s because you’re just a hopelessly sloppy bastard!”
“It’s amazing and surprising, yet it also makes sense. If it’s not a curse, then surely a nauseating hypocrite must have chosen.”
The fear hasn’t vanished.
The anxiety still twists within me.
My hands shake, my thoughts are filled with commotions telling me to flee, and doubts rise about whether I made the wrong choice, cold sweat trickles down my back, but…
Still, I grip my shield and clutch my mace, finding strength in my hands as I stand in front of everyone.
“Can you handle this? Can you stop me with trembling hands? You can’t even properly wield your authority in fear. Do you think you can stop me?”
If one were to ask why I’m doing this, various words would come to mind, but if I had to summarize it in one, yes. I’m the tank. If it’s not me, who else will stand before the enemy?
“Why ask something so obvious? Are you scared?”
Could it be because I’ve made my resolution?
The heart that was crumbling just a moment ago began to piece itself back together.
In response, the power I possess emanates warmth, and those who were oppressed by the authority of the End begin to rise one by one.
“Ha ha! You sloppy bastard! That’s why you’re the one getting clobbered!”
“Right? Every time I come out, I get clobbered and I just never get tired of it!”
“I know what this is! It’s the Masochistic Pervert! Lucy used to do this a lot!”
“Was the Evil God who spread fear across the continent actually just a sex-crazed masochist? Truly amazing.”
“W-well! I guess so! It fits perfectly! Challenging the Lord each time must be because they want to be beaten!”
Seeing my friends doing their best to act strong, I smiled and readied myself for battle once more.
I can feel my will strengthening.
“Alright, lash out! The greater the resistance, the greater the despair you will face at the end. Let me enjoy your despair.”
The odds are still faint.
Even hoping I can win feels overwhelming.
I can’t deny that defeating the enemy before my eyes is impossible.
But still, I won’t back down.
Miracles are granted only to those who fight back.
“Indeed. My Apostle. No matter how faint the possibility, if you don’t challenge it, you cannot reach it.”
A gentle voice, and a delicate, warm hand rests on my shoulder.
“If you hadn’t risen again, I wouldn’t have been able to come here. Yes, you created the possibility, and that’s why the miracle occurred.”
I know I shouldn’t turn away with the enemy in front of me, yet I turned my back.
The voice coming from behind is something I can never forget.
“It’s been a while.”
Her warm smile matches the happiest memory of Lucy in my mind.
