The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

Honestly, the Holy Nation's idea was clever—disturbingly so.

It was clear they thought of human lives the same way one might think of machine parts, but wasn’t that the nature of this world? Besides, in settings like this, religious zealots often turn out to be the most inhuman of all.

Of course, the religion of this world wasn’t so dominant as to rule the entire world, nor were they in any position to hold inquisitions in foreign countries when they were barely avoiding being judged themselves. Still, the signature fanaticism of “only the Goddess matters” subculture characters was too good a trope not to use.

But, as I must emphasize again, I had infinite opportunities.

As long as the Cardinal remained conscious and capable of speech, I had all the time I needed to get answers. Even if their magic involved an instant-death spell that the healing device couldn’t counter, it didn’t matter.

Cough!

I lost track of how many times I heard that sound.

I dragged the Cardinal around the room countless times, rewinding time again and again. I asked him questions to get verbal answers and had him point things out with his remaining hand. Fortunately, a few seconds before he died each time were enough to piece together his intentions.

"..."

By about the twelfth attempt, I stopped asking questions altogether.

The place the Cardinal pointed to before dying was the corner of the first-floor hall—a bookshelf tucked away in the shadows.

A bookshelf filled with various versions of their sacred texts.

Classic.

Was it one of those mechanisms where pulling or pushing a particular book would trigger a hidden door?

But it seemed the Holy Nation wasn’t entirely careless. No matter how many of the sacred texts I pulled off the shelf, no switch or secret door was revealed. The bookshelf didn’t swing open, nor did the floor beneath it give way to reveal a hidden passage.

I turned back to the Cardinal.

He was still alive—this time, I hadn’t asked him anything.

Since he consistently pointed to the bookshelf, there had to be a method hidden there. Perhaps it wasn’t a simple mechanism but something more complex, something too elaborate for him to explain while coughing up blood.

Hmm.

I glanced at the sacred text I had just removed, lost in thought.

Without asking anyone anything—at least that’s how it must have appeared to those watching—I examined the books on the shelf. The Cardinal and the knights seemed visibly flustered, unsure whether my actions constituted a "leak of information." At least no one started coughing up blood yet.

I had enough time to read through every sacred text on the shelf. Maybe the solution involved reading a specific passage aloud or rearranging the books in a particular order.

Or perhaps—

Suddenly, I thought of the Cardinal’s severed arm left on the second floor.

Ah.

While I had learned the basics of magic in this world, it was as intricate as the laws of physics.

At first glance, physics seems simple, with its absolute equations and laws. But delve into the microscopic world, and you’re met with quantum mechanics and other bizarre, incomprehensible phenomena. Magic was just as convoluted, far beyond simply chanting spells.

So, I had no idea why the "Cardinal’s severed right hand" was the key to activating the mechanism.

Did the Cardinal need to be alive to touch the sacred texts? Or was it simply a matter of his fingerprint or some other biometric being registered?

Whatever the case, it wasn’t my concern.

The people who created such mechanisms could worry about the details. As long as it worked for me, that was all that mattered.

“You overreached, and that was your downfall.”

I tossed the Cardinal his discarded right hand as I spoke. Whether he could reattach the thing was his problem now.

The Cardinal reflexively caught the severed hand but immediately dropped it in horror. It was a surprisingly squeamish reaction for someone who had been trying to kill children with a gryphon mere moments ago.

“You tried to control a gryphon, a powerful, majestic creature. To maintain that control, your presence here was necessary. If you’d simply fled and left the knights behind, this might have ended differently.”

Perhaps they had another plan in mind.

Maybe they feared me, thinking I had such overwhelming abilities that no trick could escape my notice.

To someone who hadn’t seen me directly, it might very well seem that way.

Among my companions, the only ones giving me odd looks were Alice, Claire, and Leo. But those three had seen enough of my fighting to have some idea of my abilities. Alice, in particular, seemed to fully grasp what I was capable of.

The others, though? Their expressions were pure shock. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Yeah, I’d probably react the same way.

After all, I’d led them into a hidden base, navigating the shortest possible route as if I’d memorized the map, identified the enemy’s critical weaknesses at a glance, neutralized them efficiently, and found a secret area as though I’d known it was there all along.

If I were them, I’d be yelling, "This makes no sense!" right about now.

But what could I do?

It had already happened.

"..."

I glanced at the children, their mouths agape as they stared at me. Then I turned my gaze back to the newly opened floor.

The central hall where the gryphon had been standing.

The door beneath it was now open.

This was a place I’d never seen in the original story.

So, there had been a reason the gryphon had stood there.

Was this space something the Holy Nation had hastily created with magic?

“Shall we go?”

I turned to my companions and asked. They exchanged uncertain glances before looking back at me.

Their earlier confusion was gone.

They nodded silently.

I nodded back, if only for the sake of it.

The space was surprisingly expansive, considering it was hastily built. It wasn’t as meticulously arranged as the upper floors but seemed designed to conceal something.

It made sense they’d choose this "deepest" area as the safest place to hide it.

Perhaps it was something they intended to safeguard from the Emperor in case of an attack. Or maybe they hid it here to keep it out of reach, even if the Holy Nation itself fell.

Whatever the reason, their logic was sound.

“This is...”

At the end of the pitch-black expanse, something faintly glowed.

It was fractured, its surface marred with cracks, yet parts of it were "clearly" complete.

“This... could it be?”

Alice murmured from over my shoulder, staring at the object.

“Wait a moment.”

I held out a hand, stopping the group about ten steps away.

That was... a Relic.

Not just any piece, but one that was partially complete. I didn’t know whether they’d gathered every artifact in the Holy Nation or if they’d been working tirelessly while I was distracted.

Even incomplete, the finished portion was enough to identify what it was.

A jagged corner of a shattered gear rested quietly atop a pedestal in the center of the hastily dug chamber.

Which meant—

Time flowed properly.

My powers weren’t sealed.

The masked woman wasn’t here, at least not yet.

The Relic didn’t interfere with my abilities.

Why?

If they’d gone to such lengths to hide it from the Emperor, I understood.

But wherever the Relic was, the masked woman always appeared.

“Sister? What’s wrong?”

Claire peeked over my shoulder, her voice light.

“...We need to be cautious,” I replied.

Slowly, I began approaching the Relic.

The closer we got, the brighter it shone.

As if it were welcoming us, as if it had been waiting for someone to arrive—

...No.

That wasn’t it.

The Relic wasn’t welcoming me.

It wasn’t intuition or some supernatural revelation.

The light emanating from the Relic wasn’t directed at me.

The glow split into beams, flowing toward Claire and Alice, who stood behind me.

And, unmistakably, the light directed at Claire was far stronger.

“...Ah.”

In that moment, I began to understand why, after Claire’s death in the game, the Emperor’s plans had crumbled.

Unbelievable.