Chapter 113 - Oh, Cherished Saint

"10 more minutes… Just 10 more minutes…"

"Uh, you've been sleeping for almost 10 hours. I don't think 10 minutes is going to make a difference." Yorun responds lazily. He stands with Eniyala and Lynsel at the doorway. Lynsel, the saint, had lent me his bedroom and slept on the couch.

'Oh. I spent 6-7 of those practicing,' I think groggily. "… Yeah. Right."

I roll out of bed, falling face-first onto the floor. All three of them wince, before the two shorter ones look at Lynsel, give him a reassuring pat, and walk away.

"Ah, um… Tha innkeeper is kickin' us out, remember?"

I peel my face off the carpeted floor to look at him, eye bags feeling heavy on my cheeks. "I know, I know," I say, working my way to my feet. "Tell 'em I'll be out in a second."

He nods pensively, closing the door as he leaves. I sigh, grabbing my change of clothes from the bedside table. While I was training, I had ended up stripping down to just black shorts. I grab my armor from my Inventory, slipping out of the shorts and tossing it into my Inventory. The armor goes on first. Over it, a long sleeve shirt — white, of course, though this one has black borders and seams — and a pair of plain slacks. I didn't need shoes this time, as the armor has its own set within the feet covers. I check myself in the mirror by the door, ensuring I'm ready.

My eye can see all kinds of magic and Mana… and that includes my own. Though I try to ignore it, dark violet lines trace through my body, most concentrated right below my sternum, in the middle of my body.

But the main concern for me was the black mass directly above that, black lines bleeding into some of the violet ones. It doesn't have the same ominous energy as before, but… Still dark as shit.

I sigh. "Just as dear ole' Alyphia said, I guess."

I mentally recount her plan, and how scarily well it had worked.

"You will wait until your Reincarnation Skill automatically activates. Either he will become extremely uncoordinated, or after doubling, he will become weakened through—"

"Nausea and other fun things? Yeah, I know."

She had paused. "Well, yes. You will then need to flow your very core into an attack and release it. It is dangerous, but with the resilience your body has, I am sure you will be alright."

"… Comforting."

"Just remember, focus all of that dark energy out. You will be in pain for a while, and you likely will not be able to use Skills or even move your Mana properly for at least a week. But, this is the only way. You will still have the Dark Seed within you, though, and it can still sprout. You need to learn how to control your emotions, and yourself."

She had certainly been right.

I wince a bit at the lingering soreness and fatigue in my muscles; the 'roided Mana Rejection had faded steadily while I was practicing, pushing me to go even longer. Though, I could still really go for a nap.

I fix my long hair a bit, looking past the glowing condensation of Mana just below it that was my eye, before stepping away from the mirror. While I could see my Mana by looking at my arms and legs, it was more apparent and more unsettling when looking in the mirror.

Lynsel is waiting alone just outside the suite, and I give him a small wave. He returns the gesture as we begin walking to the elevators. Well, they're more like teleporters, since they travel instantaneously to the floor you select.

We meet up with the rest of the party in the main lobby. Termi and Eniyala chat near the middle of the room, Ro and Yorun lurking several feet away. Between the two duos, an agitated snake taps his foot on the ground impatiently, arms crossed across his chest as he stares at a hairy man in front of him. Every so often, his tongue flickers out, and everytime he scrunches his nose.

When he finally spots us, the last two, he lights up like a brutally murdered pine tree on Christmas. "Finally! I sssshould charge you extra for sssuch a late checkout."

"He deserved the break, Mr. Rascillion. Likely saved us from even worse damages, like a certain inn burning to the ground. I almost feel bad asking for compensation, but our funds unfortunately are not unlimited."

From an unsuspecting corner of the room, a familiar woman's voice reaches our ears from under the shawl covering her face, stepping forward to complete the small circle we've formed. She lifts her head just enough that the party can see it — the governor.

Rascillion huffs, turning and storming away. Fostia chuckles lightly. "He's a bit… imprudent sometimes, isn't he?"

"That's an understatement," I mutter, before Eniyala punches me in the arm. "Ow. Hey!"

Fostia smiles warmly, gesturing towards the large entrance doors. "Let's take a walk, shall we?"

The group chatters amongst ourselves like high schoolers on a field trip, following the governor as she leads us to the eastern side of the city. It becomes apparent why she has a cloak on, as even through the densely populated road, a select few recognize the woman, walking off in high spirits and a prideful manner at spotting their governor.

We finally come to a flight of stairs, climbing up them to a raised balcony over a ledge that leads down a sharp slope to a lower part of the city. Just in front and above us, the inner wall of the mountain looms overhead somewhat ominously — or it would, was there not a beautiful abstract stained glass 'window' being installed in a giant hole someone had made.

Fostia coyly turns to face us, leaning back on the railing and putting a finger up to her lips. "Don't tell that greedy innkeeper, but I only took a little more than an eighth of the costs, because the minute I saw it, I knew I wanted to make this. You only paid for the material to the damaged building and the cost of the glass. The labor and installation, payment for repairs, and a few tickets were all taken care of by me." The little woman winks at me, turning back to gaze at her new art idea coming to life. "Ever since I was little, we've heard this saying… When the new Sword Saint finally comes, and it will be long a day before it does… cherish them. Well, the saying came from the original Tank Saint herself, and I guess she was convinced the next Sword would be a woman, but I guess that assumption was wrong. Nonetheless… here you are."

A familiar presence enters my mind, accompanied by a sigh. 'That bulkhead… Even in her Sainthood…'

'Uh. Care to explain, oh cherished Saint?'

Pulling the flood of mixed emotions back under control, Alyphia sniffs as if to clear her throat. 'Though we were Saints, all of us were, and still are, normal people in our hearts. The Tank was a lovely half-Orc, a race that's just about extinct today. She had certain… feelings, for me, although I didn't fully feel the same way. It seems she thinks I could do no wrong regardless, which is why the governor must be treating you the way she is.'

I sigh internally, my focus being pulled back to reality by movement from Fostia. She lowers herself to her knees, palms flat on the ground and elbows locked straight. She bows her head slightly, and I watch in awkward shock as she speaks. "Truly, thank you for saving us from the demon. My Magic Advisor estimated that the residual Mana was rated to be enough to raze three and a half Mt. Turras at minimum, so this is an amazing result comparatively."

I scratch my chin awkwardly. 'At least half of that was most likely due to Raze, but…'

"Please, stand. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you here, and uh… I'm not that greedy or anything."

She looks back up at me in slight confusion, but stands, brushing off her knees. "Well, should you require anything, please inform me, and I will ensure you get the highest quality of it we have in the city. I must return to my duties now; but I wish you luck on your journeys. And Termi? Call your dear aunt once in a while."

The Tank rolls her eyes, nodding in annoyance, but her relative seems satisfied with this answer and turns to leave. "I hope to see you all again soon," she says with a wave, walking away.

I stare after her for a few seconds, my mind partially refusing to process what just happened. It was almost enough to make the slaughter of ten evil assholes and one friend feel worth it.

Almost.

Finally, Pantholeo clears his throat. "I know the plan is to head out soon. But… I have a daughter. And now that I'm free, I plan to raise her full-time. So I can't go with you guys. So… Thank you, Klum. You saved my life, an' all… So yeah." Embarrassed and flustered, the muscled man follows suit after the governor, but I use my speed to slip around him and stand in front of him, extending my arm to tell him to stop. I twist my wrist, offering my hand to shake. He stares at it for a second, before a small grin spreads on his face, and he takes it firmly.

"If she's anything like her mom, she'll turn out alright."

Bowing his head, he chuckles weakly. "Yeah, you're right." He claps a hand on my shoulder, and I nod in return, before he walks off to start a new chapter of his life.

I turn back to my group, feeling a bit of determination flowing into me. "Well? We ready to head out?"

* * *

Earlier…

"You have GOT to stop running off after anything that glows in your stupid eyes," the sister sighs, watching the backs of the party quickly retreating. Klum had removed Ro from the party and said his goodbyes in record time, scooting off with the party in tow before Rala could even get a good look at the boy.

Rala was the older twin, and even looked several years older than her dopey brother, despite being born on the same day. Contrary to Klum's mental image of her, she had a healthier build than her brother, filling out the basic and plain red and brown clothing she wore well. The leather padding covering her joints and other vital areas hugs tightly to her body, proving she has a mix of both well-toned and soft-looking muscles adding curves to her tall frame.

"But it lead me to a fun party!" Ro retorts, earning a heavy smack from his sister. "Ow. It even had Liwuukay in it! Get this; he even managed to hurt me, and I even met a demon! I couldn't have beat the demon where I'm at currently, but he turned into one himself and beat it!"

Rala seethes at his words, ready to stomp right after where she had last seen the group, but pauses. "He managed to hurt you? What Level is he?"

"Well, when he did it I think he was 20 something, but he's Level 30 now."

"He gained that many Levels in less than four months? Maybe if he was only Level 10, but unless he somehow found a slew of incredibly strong Minibosses to fight, that's impossible!"

Ro shrugs. "It probably helps that he's the Sword Saint."

Rala, whose composure had just reformed, immediately loses her patience at her brother's idiocy. "WHAT?! Why am I just learning this?? You dumbass, did you at least tell them about me?"

"I did. When I told him you're a Saint, Liwuukay… I mean, Klum said something about a sister complex. I mean, I can get why he thinks that — you are pretty confusing, but I don't know about comple— ack!"

His sentence is cut off by Rala materializing a golden rod from a flash of light in her hand, slamming it full force into the back of his head. She sighs in annoyance, unfurling her bright red wings to fly hundreds of feet up in order to see where the party went.

'… Did they start sprinting the second I looked away?' She wonders, gliding back to the ground elegantly with no sign of the party over the gentle hills.

"I'll look, sis!" Ro says happily, opening his own wings to take off, before five slender fingers wrap menacingly on his shoulder. "No. Stay."

Ro freezes, making eye contact with his glaring sister as she barks the command like an owner with their untrained puppy. He would have done it anyway, were it not for the murderous look on her face. With a sigh, he puts his wings away, and Rala straightens up and begins fidgeting with the horn upon the right side of her forehead — opposite of her brother's. Unlike his, hers is a swirl of a blue so deep that it blends with the black that is also present, as well as a red that matches her fiery vibrant hair, the hair that falls straight and true just past her shoulders. Just like her brother, golden etchings accent the different colors in her horns, and a small spattering of red and black scales surround it, fading into human skin. She puffs a few locks of her bangs from her face, a deeper red smoke passing from her gentle lips as she stares into the distance.

"I'll keep my promise, Dad," she whispers, snatching Ro by the elbow and dragging him off.