The Silver Saint’s Price

I waited by the unconscious bodies of the three Holy Crusaders. After a few minutes, one of them stirred, his eyes fluttering open. It was the leader, a bespectacled guy who looked like he could ace any exam but had just forgotten his own name.

"Who… who am I? Where… where am I?" he murmured, his eyes still half-closed in confusion.

"Good morning," I greeted him with a cheerful smile.

"Gah!?" he squeaked, trying to crawl away. But he quickly realized something was wrong—his body was half-buried in the ground, unable to move.

While they'd been knocked out, I'd taken the liberty of using my 'Unrestricted Form Conception' skill to bury them just enough to keep them in place.

"I-I'm buried!?"

"Indeed, you are," I said, feigning sympathy. "There's no way for you to get out on your own, so struggling is useless. I'm the only one who can release you."

"So this is… an interrogation tactic. What a sadistic bastard…"