Side Story: What Must Be Passed Down

Hi everyone, it's Ellize again. I've recently come to realize the greatness of life-sized figures. I'm sure you're wondering what's up with my sudden announcement, so lemme fill you in!

As everyone knew, destroying the "witch" had rid Fiori of witches, which also meant no new monsters would ever appear. Since monsters were originally regular animals transformed by the witch, they couldn't proliferate without a witch around. I'd practically—if not entirely—annihilated them on this continent thanks to my overzealous hunting.

To find a monster nowadays, you needed to go to desert islands or some far-off shore. There were also probably still a few left in Fuguten. Even then, those who went looking for them on purpose barely ever found one—that's just how close to extinction they were. With no way to reproduce and no witch to create more, they'd soon disappear from the surface of this world even if I didn't lift a finger.

Why was that an issue, you ask? Well, to me, it kinda was.

There wasn't much to do in this world, and bullying monsters was admittedly one of my only hobbies. If they went extinct, I'd be left with nothing to do!

While I was happy lounging in my forest log house most of the time, I still needed a hobby I could throw my energy into. I hadn't come here to become some sort of hermit.

I really shoulda bought a portable game console while I was in Japan.

It was too late now, and I kind of regretted it. I could still go to Alfrea and ask her to lift the seal for a bit, but what if I ran into Yamoto? It'd be incredibly awkward...

That was how I'd brought boredom upon myself.

◇

One day, as I was particularly bored, I decided to go on a walk to pass the time. I went to explore the lake that Profeta used to live in.

I didn't have any particular reason to go there, but I figured that since I'd never seen the inside of the lake, I might as well check it out. To be honest, I didn't expect to find anything special down there.

I put up my barrier before jumping into the water. Near the bottom, I found the entrance to a tunnel. I followed its curve upward until I emerged inside a cavern. I tried to breathe and noticed I could. It had to be connected to the outside somehow.

I looked around and saw an incredible number of stone slabs. Each of them had text and a drawing. When I got closer, I realized they were records of the successive saints' growth. They each came with a portrait carved into the stone.

Even Lilia, a saint who'd been forgotten by most because she hadn't carried out her duty, had her own.

I could only think of one stalker—um, I mean, dutiful observer—who could've recorded the lives of every saint from childhood to adulthood in such detail. This was the work of Profeta, who'd stayed here watching the outside world from afar for hundreds of years.

Even though I wasn't a saint, she'd also recorded my life. Finding it made me feel a little strange.

How did a turtle manage to write and draw, though? Had she carved those by holding a metal rod with her mouth? If so, the word "deft" wouldn't even begin to describe her.

Well, I supposed she'd had a thousand years to hone her craft, so it probably wasn't all that shocking...or was it?

Profeta had most likely left these behind out of her sense of responsibility, although I suspected guilt had also been one of her motivations.

Whenever she notified the royals of the birth of a new saint, they would immediately collect the girl, separating her from her parents. The saint would then be brought up solely for the sake of defeating the witch, after which she'd become one herself until she was killed by the next saint.

Profeta must've felt guilty for pushing these little girls onto such a path. At the very least, she must've wanted to make sure they'd be remembered—if only by her.

"Hmm? What's that?" I thought out loud, noticing letters carved directly onto one of the cavern's walls.

The text read:

I leave this request to whoever finds this place. I've recorded the lives of all the saints from their birth to their death. If nothing has changed, and the world is still suffering from the dominion of the witch, please leave these records where they are.

If the world has changed, however... If there is now room in the people's hearts to think of those who fought to bring them peace, please tell the world about these women. Their stories must be passed down. Let it be known that their fleeting lives scattered into nothingness after they were made to carry the heavy burden of protecting the world.

Profeta's plea made sense. Bringing these slabs to the people when the witch was still there would only have led to criticism. Lilia, in particular, would've been regarded as a useless saint who hadn't even been able to accomplish her mission. Not so long ago, no one would've found it in themselves to thank and respect the past saints or to offer prayers for the peace of their souls.

Room in their hearts, huh?

Did they now have that room?

I'd done a lot to improve the state of this world, and respect and devotion toward the figure of the saint was at an all-time high, but was that enough?

Still, something bothered me a little. Who else but me would ever come here? If I turned back and left these stone slabs behind, there was a good chance they'd be forgotten forever.

I wanted to fulfill Profeta's last wish, but I couldn't exactly suddenly show up in the capital with these things, could I? It was still too early.

To make sure these records wouldn't disappear into oblivion, though, I knew I had to bring them out and hide them elsewhere.

For the time being, I'll erect some statues in the forest.

I didn't think suddenly telling everyone at once about the saints' stories was a good idea, so I decided to slowly increase the number of people in the know instead.

◇

And that was how I started crafting sculptures of the previous saints.

I'd applied the same method I'd used to make weapons for Verner and the others to build a temple. Now, I was in the process of crafting a statue for each saint.

It was a fascinating activity. I wanted to make sure I got all the details right, and whenever I got engrossed in my craft, I didn't feel the time pass at all. I especially had a fun time working on the curves of their boobs and butts. Obviously, I pretended I was doing this for appropriate reasons. These statues would eventually be used to hold memorial services for the saints.

Anyway, I'd just finished Lilia's statue. She'd been the saint two generations ago. From what I'd read on the slate Profeta had engraved, her life had been quite difficult.

Despite being the saint, she was very much a normal young girl at heart. She'd always dreamed of living an ordinary life, and when Aiz—full of good intentions—had told her the truth, she'd fallen into despair. She'd died soon after.

That's tough.

Honestly, I thought it was unfair that a fake like me was being remembered when Lilia's story wasn't being passed down. While I was mostly making these statues for my personal satisfaction, I hoped they'd serve that purpose one day.

Anyway, I was about to move on to the next saint on my list when someone entered the temple.

"Lilia..."

I turned around and saw the old man Aiz.

His eyes were wide open as he stared at the life-sized statue of Lilia I'd just finished. He'd probably come to see me, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he walked up to the statue on shaky legs. It was like he couldn't even see me. As he reached the statue, Aiz fell to his knees and broke down sobbing.

It wasn't the first time I'd had such a thought but, seriously—for an old man, he was such a crybaby. He was definitely the type to start blubbering whenever he got drunk. I'm calling it now!

After bawling his eyes out for roughly ten minutes, Aiz finally calmed down enough to have a proper conversation.

"I'm sorry, Lady Ellize," he said. "I showed you quite the embarrassing spectacle. But...where did this statue come from?"

"Profeta left us her memories," I said.

I showed him the stone slab dedicated to Lilia, and he started crying again. He brought his sleeve to his eyes and wiped away his tears roughly.

"I see... The future generations will finally know Lilia... Thank you, Lady Ellize... Thank you so much!"

The old man must've suffered a lot too, I thought watching him.

While the names of the past saints were taught at the academy, Lilia's wasn't. I used to think that saints who hadn't succeeded were excluded out of spite, but I'd recently come to understand that this was the only way to protect their memory. Talking about them would only lead to the people hating them for allowing the witch and the monsters to make them suffer. For them to be able to accept their struggle for what it truly was, peace needed to be achieved first. People needed time.

That was most likely why Aiz had removed Lilia's name from the school's curriculum, even though that decision must've hurt him.

"I believe it's still too early to let the world see this, but one day..." I trailed off.

"Yes, one day..." Aiz repeated.

One day, time would erase the weight of their failures. When the pain was far enough in the past and the people finally had room in their hearts to accept her, Lilia would simply become one of the many saints who'd been made to shoulder a tragedy far bigger than them by the world.

I could only hope that they'd be remembered and that their stories would be passed on long after I was gone so that something like that never happened again.

Well, that was my serious excuse at least. I couldn't just come out and say that I just enjoyed crafting statues of pretty girls, right?

◇

That night, I had a dream.

Just like when I'd died, I was surrounded by darkness. And standing in the darkness were the saints who should all have been long gone. They smiled, but I could see the unshed tears gleaming in their eyes.

Lilia, who was at the front, took my hand. She squeezed it tight and said, "Thank you."

Then, they all turned around and left.

I could see a light in the distance, where people I didn't know were waiting for them. While I'd never seen any of these people, I instinctively knew that they were their loved ones—the knights who'd served them, their lovers, and their families...

One by one, the saints who'd been trapped in the darkness disappeared into the light...and then I woke up.

My first thought was that my brain sure had a way to create dreams to make me feel better. That was all dreams were—the brain organizing memories. The dead never visited you to talk to you... Or at least, I didn't think they did. So many impossible things had happened in this world that I didn't know anymore. Hell, my spirit had even traveled to Japan a few times during my sleep.

Still, the dream I'd just had was definitely my brain showing me what I wanted to see. And yet, hearing Lilia thank me like that... Even a scumbag like me would get a surge of motivation.

I rose from my bed and headed to the temple.

Here's to another day living as Ellize in this world!

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