Episode 5 – The Fall of the Saint (Celia’s Perspective)

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Once the Curse of Reversed Likability Was Lifted, My Party Members Became Unbearably Heavy once the Curse of Reversed Likability Was Lifted, My Party Members Became Unbearably Heavy

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The bell tolled once.
Deep within the cathedral, in the empty prayer room. The afternoon light streaming into my chamber was gentle; today should have been just like any other.
I washed my hands with holy water, traced the sign of the cross upon my chest, and spoke the words to God. That was my daily ritual. Even now, after defeating the Demon King and becoming the cathedral’s official saint, it remained the thing that kept me grounded.
　
—O God, purify the righteous.
—O God, destroy the evil known as Amagi Ren.

As I recited the prayer, my fingers suddenly froze.
The sensation in my palm felt strangely warm. As if—I were clutching someone’s hand tightly.

My breath caught for an instant. A flutter stirred deep within my mind, and the edges of my vision blurred.
That night’s bonfire. The face of the man who had laughed and taken my hand.

“It’s okay, Celia. I’ll protect you.”

—Whose voice was that?

In that instant, my heart exploded. Like a dam of memories bursting, scenes from the past avalanched in.

The forest surrounded by monsters, the rainy night, the hand offered to me when I had lost my prayer. That man’s face.　Ah, I know. I mustn’t forget.

That was—Ren sama. Amagi Ren… my… my Hero.
Yet, my trembling lips deny it.

“No, no… He’s a traitor, he’s, he’s…!”
With every trembling word, another “me” laughs inside my heart.

—It’s a lie. That was a lie you told, wasn’t it?
—With your own mouth, borrowing the name of the gods.

“No, no…! I was following the divine will—!”

I cover both ears. But deep within my ears, that day’s “my own voice” rings clear.

“Amagi Ren has allied with the Demon King!”
The people’s cheers. Applause. Praise. My smiling face responding to it. —I was smiling.

In that instant, I also remembered what Ren sama looked like after defeating the Demon King.
“…Stop it, I don’t want to remember, stop it!”

My fingertips trembled, and the sound of a chair being kicked over echoed. Candles rolled over, and flames spread to the sacred text on the desk. The smell of burning paper. I could hear the sound of God’s words written there burning away.
　
“…God… why…?”
My throat burned. My voice cracked. In my head, I thought I heard God’s voice—no, it wasn’t God. It was Ren-sama’s voice. That gentle voice overwriting the words of God.

“It’s okay, Celia. You’re okay now.”

And yet. And yet, I—

A sob escaped me.　Acid rose in my throat.
Before I knew it, I was sitting on the floor, hugging my knees. My hands clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms.
It hurt. But it didn’t hurt enough. I wanted more pain. This wasn’t enough. I wanted to scrape away the shape of sin writhing deep within my chest with something.

“Ren-sama… I’m sorry, I’m sorry…! Why, why…!”
　
Instead of calling upon the name of God, I only called out Ren’s name.
Even knowing it was my sin, I couldn’t stop. Even if my throat grew hoarse and my tears dried up, I would keep calling.

“You were the light… Why couldn’t I have realized it then…!”
“Without you, I couldn’t have lived… Why. I… I let you!”

“I, back then…! That hand, that person’s hand…!”

Within my vision, that left arm, obliterated by the Demon King, still seemed stretched out toward me. His voice pleading for help. And me, refusing it.
That scene repeats over and over, again and again.

“Ren sama… begged me for help…! Yet I… abandoned him…!”

I clutched my head. My hair became disheveled. The world before my eyes spun round and round. My own breath became a sound that was neither a sob nor a laugh. I wanted to call his name, but no sound came out.

[You guys, the people of this world, can live happily. So—this is fine.]

Only now did I truly hear those words correctly. He wasn’t resentful at all. Until the very end, he was protecting us.
—And yet, I…

“Ren-samaaaaa”

The screams shook the walls of the cathedral.
I tilted my chair and clung to the wall. My face was a mess with tears, snot, and sobs, but I still couldn’t stop calling his name.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…!”
“Please forgive me… I don’t care if it’s divine punishment or whatever…! Just kill me for letting go of your hand…!”

The pure white robe that was the symbol of the saint was dragged across the floor, becoming stained with dust and tears.
The smell of burnt scriptures stung her nose. It was like the smell of her own rotten heart burning. His voice echoed in the depths of her ears over and over again.
　
[It’s okay, Celia. You’re safe now.]
The hallucination was too gentle, tearing her chest apart.
“Stop… don’t call me with such a kind voice…! Someone like me—

But no matter how much she pounded, Ren’s voice wouldn’t return. That smile was nowhere to be found. The image of the god she had worshipped now appeared hideously distorted.

—Kus, kusukusu.
I laughed while crying. I cried while laughing.
The sound wouldn’t stop. My throat trembled. My head swayed unsteadily.　
　
“Fufufu… Ah, Ren sama. I betrayed you…”
“You saved me, yet I killed you…”
“God, punish me… More, more divine punishment…!”

She clawed her cheek. Blood seeped out.
But that pain made her feel a little bit of “reality.” She couldn’t forgive the fact that she was still breathing.

“Why am I still alive… I should be the one dead…”

At that moment, the scorched holy text crumbled, sending ash swirling.
Sparkles of light pierced through, dancing within the ash. It looked like forgiveness falling from the heavens—and Celia smiled madly.
　
“Hehe… Beautiful. …Hey, Ren sama. Look, God is forgiving me…”
There was no forgiveness. She didn’t want forgiveness. But if she could see Ren sama one more time…

“…Hey, Ren sama. If I could see you again… this time… I’ll… properly… reach out my hand…”

Her whispering voice broke off in a sob. White light illuminated her tears, and silence fell upon the Saint’s room. Ash touched her cheek, dissolving into mud with her tears. Sobs and laughter mingled, filling the room’s air with madness.

It was the sound of a woman—once called the “Saint”—shattering into pieces.

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