Restart

I set three major goals.

First, save those who should have died within my reach.

Second, find the Saintess.

And finally, third.

The demon of legend.

Interfere with the schemes of Belial, the <King of Darkness>, and take his life.

“Well then, first…”

Truthfully, I want to find the Saintess right away, but her exact whereabouts only become known three years from now.

So finding her right now is nearly impossible.

I’m not sure about going to the Pantheon Temple to look for her, but considering where I am now, it’s too far.

And as for Belial, I can’t make any moves right now without a foundation.

So what I need to prioritize is.

“The first goal.”

Those connected to me. Or the potential heroes that Belial eliminated while operating in the shadows.

Pulling them out of the swamp of schemes that Belial designed. The first goal ultimately connects to the third goal.

Create connection points with them along the path to the Pantheon Temple.

In that process, save those who need saving and kill those who need killing.

“Now that the plan is set, should I eat first?”

Considering what I need to do from now on, I’ll have to move quickly.

*     *     *

Whether to call it coincidental or fortunate.

I remember quite clearly what period this is.

I’ve only spent about two days in this village since arriving.

After spending one night at the inn, the next day I took a carriage to the great city of Forys Duchy.

And the reason I remember this so precisely is because this is where I, naive enough to have lived only in forests, first tasted the bitterness of life.

Between eating breakfast at the inn and before boarding the carriage, I lost most of my money and the sword my master left me to a pickpocket.

I’m in the middle of that timeline right now.

The only difference is that I’m not as gullible as I was back then.

“I really was an idiot.”

“Argh!”

Crack!

As they moved to brush past me, trying to steal my purse and sword, I grab their wrist and stab them with a knife.

To think I didn’t even notice when I was being pickpocketed so blatantly, so obviously visible.

After pinning their hand to the table with the knife, I check what kind of person they are.

“Haha…!”

It was an inn employee.

Now this is an interesting situation. Seeing this, it raises suspicions that this wasn’t just a random pickpocketing attempt.

Yesterday’s me must have carelessly shown all my money to the innkeeper, completely ignorant of the ways of the world.

Once they knew there was more money in the purse than expected, it’s easy enough to think about targeting this naive kid.

“Si-Sir! What are you doing!”

The innkeeper, who had been observing the situation, finally yells at me.

“Ah, my apologies. Your employee seemed to have some bad habits. I was giving them a lesson they won’t forget.”

“If there needs to be discipline, I’ll handle it!”

“Then will you take responsibility too?”

“……”

Suddenly falls silent.

Can’t bear to see the employee hurt, but doesn’t want to take responsibility. Well, what can you do.

That’s how most people are.

“If you’ll truly take responsibility, I won’t continue with any more violent actions. What will you do?”

“…Do you mean it?”

“Yes.”

At a glance, this probably wasn’t their first time doing this. Did they just leave it alone knowing about it, or were they in on it?

Either way, it doesn’t matter.

After all, I was able to safely protect my sword and money.

There’s no need to do more.

“Then please do that.”

“I will.”

“Ack!”

I pull out the knife and send them stumbling toward the innkeeper.

“…Go inside and treat your wound.”

“Yes…”

What a close relationship.

The suspicion grows deeper.

“Well then, let’s have a chat.”

I walked toward the counter where the innkeeper stood, still holding the knife.

Though I said I wouldn’t continue with violent actions, they can’t help but be nervous while I’m like this.

But I don’t need to care about that.

“Innkeeper, do you believe in gods?”

“…Gods, you say?”

“Yes, how many people in this world don’t believe in gods? In a world where so many gods exist.”

There’s even the Pantheon Temple, a group that records the registry of gods.

In this world, there are truly many faiths, and they all become power.

Just among those called celestial gods, there are more than three.

Of course, there are gods that even I, the priests of the Pantheon Temple, don’t know about.

“Since you run an inn, you might believe in gods of comfort, peace, or warmth. Or perhaps… the god of thieves?”

“……”

Among them, there are naturally gods classified as evil gods.

It might be called a biased view, but those who believe in them are called heretics and cultists.

Not only does belief alone add to that god’s power, but it’s troublesome when they exercise their authority.

“It would be nice if the innkeeper believes in an upright god.”

Screech.

I use the knife I brought to carve a mark on the inn’s counter.

One short horizontal line and one long vertical line. A faint light remains where the blade traced.

The innkeeper’s expression turns questioning then belatedly grows pale at the marks carved with just two knife strokes.

“There are many who act on behalf of the gods, and their eyes might be on you.”

This should be enough.

I’ve spoken using the gods’ names, so they should understand well what I mean.

“Well then, see you next time, innkeeper.”

I leave after paying for the breakfast I ate.

As I was walking away, I remembered something I’d forgotten and turned back to say.

“And keep your price gouging reasonable.”

By the time I left, the innkeeper’s face had turned deathly pale.

*     *     *

The man whose hand had been pierced by the knife clutched his bandaged hand and seethed with anger.

But when he came back out, his target was already gone.

“Goddammit!”

They just let go of the man who had stabbed his hand. The man shouted in rage as he belatedly realized this fact.

“Boss! You just let him go? Look what he did to my hand!”

“Shut up.”

“Shouldn’t we gather the boys and go after him now! How can you just let him go after what he did to me!”

“You stupid fool, do you even know who you tried to mess with? Look at this?”

“What?”

The innkeeper angrily pointed at the marks carved into the counter. The cross-shaped marks were still emanating a faint holy light.

“A cross? What, is he a priest? Are you scared of divine punishment or something, is that why you let him go?”

“You idiot, you think he would have carved this standing next to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“He carved this facing me directly. If it looks like a cross to me, how do you think it looked from his perspective?”

“If the cross is reversed then what, an inverted…”

The shouting man’s face gradually turned as pale as the innkeeper’s as realization hit.

The man had carved an inverted cross before leaving.

Anyone who should know understands what that means.

“Those who serve the gods but bow their heads in shame. The special task force that handles all the dirty work of the Pantheon Temple.”

“A heresy inquisitor…?”

“We might have had a chance if he was just a knight or noble, but mess with a heresy inquisitor and you’ll end up with your throat slit without anyone ever knowing.”

The innkeeper touched the marks with a shudder.

If it had been a noble or knight, they might have thought it was an impersonation.

But heresy inquisitors were different.

No one in their right mind would impersonate them, and even if someone did, they’d have to be completely insane.

Moreover, the man was clearly a priest. The traces of holy power were proof of that.

A priest wouldn’t stoop to such disgraceful impersonation.

“Don’t cause any trouble until he leaves town. We don’t want to get caught in the crossfire. No, just don’t cause any trouble for a while. We might already be under surveillance.”

The man nodded with a pale face at the innkeeper’s words.

They couldn’t be certain that this heresy inquisitor was alone.

Other inquisitors might already be preparing their work here, and if they accidentally offended them, they could end up brutally murdered.

“…Let’s start by lowering the lodging fees.”

*     *     *

Though my life had never been particularly smooth, my first journey was especially unsuccessful. Quite significantly so.

Just like what happened this morning, I was pickpocketed in the first village I arrived at.

So what happened after that?

No matter how much I searched, I couldn’t find my sword or money, and needing to survive, I had to find work.

Right then, conveniently before my eyes was a carriage offering free rides to the great city of Forys Duchy.

What would I do?

“I’d get on.”

Nothing could be more reasonable than that if you didn’t know it was human traffickers working with bandits.

What else could I do when I fell for such an elaborate setup starting from the inn?

This is truly surprising.

The fact that these human traffickers are connected, through various channels, to the demons under Belial’s command.

Perhaps my return to 10 years ago wasn’t just fate.

“Excuse me…”

“……”

That’s when I was approaching the village entrance. I was planning to observe the situation since I remembered boarding the carriage about 3-4 days from now.

Someone grabbed me from behind.

Though there seemed to be no malice, the fact that they could approach so carefully showed they were no ordinary person.

“Is there a problem?”

“Ah, well, you see.”

When I turned around to see their face.

I had to acknowledge it. This was indeed someone who could grab me from behind.

10 years ago, at that moment when we were attacked by bandits, the reason I survived was none other than.

Thanks to this hooded girl right in front of me.

Jet-black hair like ebony and mysterious purple eyes.

“If you’re thinking of taking the carriage, you should probably not…”

Seems she heard my muttering. Though I’m not sure why she was following me.

The person who saved children with just a dagger when the bandits attacked.

Or rather, the ‘Human Butcher’ who literally butchered the bandits’ flesh and bones.

Linea Spirin.

She whispered to me with an exaggerated manner. Something was twitching and poking up above her hood.

“The-there’s a scary person making a fuss about riding the carriage. That’s why the old man is insisting the operation starts in three days… I thought things might get complicated if you went there now…”

I see, so this must be why I was able to ride the same carriage as her three days later.

Seems they delayed the departure by three days because of that scary person.

“I understand. Thank you for letting me know.”

“No, no! I just felt like I should tell you.”

Unnecessary meddling.

But it’s her own way of doing good.

She must have been standing here warning people like me continuously.

Even though no one asked her to do such a thing.

The hood that had been twitching relaxed in relief.

She seemed to be trying to hide that she was a beastkin by wearing the hood, but she was surprisingly clumsy about it.

The first hero who saved me was this young. Different from the mature image in my memories.

“Then I’ll handle it.”

“Huh?”

Yes, just like this.

She was such a naive girl.

A person no different from me.

Not a hero, just a girl who showed a bit more courage than others.

This girl who took up a sword to save others and fought against bandits, ending up being called a butcher.

I’ll acknowledge that her methods were excessive, considering the debt of gratitude.

Her being a beastkin probably contributed to those brutal methods.

People avoid beastkin because of their characteristically violent savage nature.

Yet she was someone who continued helping others without getting angry despite facing such contempt.

People couldn’t bring themselves to criticize her, they just avoided her.

The girl who died so lonely.

“I’ll take care of it.”

I remember her end. The sight of her hanging herself alone in her solitude.

And seeing her current form, worrying and fidgeting with her mouth, I could be certain.

“You don’t need to force yourself.”

She shouldn’t have died like that.

“This time, I’ll do it.”

“This time?”

Her fox ears perk up above her hood again.

She furrows her brow slightly, seeming to ponder the meaning of my words.

I pass by her as she does so, heading toward where the carriage should be.

10 years ago, right now. Linea Spirin who struggled among the boys and girls.

This time, I’ll take over her struggle and erase her infamy.

When I arrived at my destination.

“Oh my, what’s this now.”

A being with a frame easily exceeding 3 meters was arguing loudly with the carriage owner.

Seems I need to make a slight correction. Linea Spirin wasn’t just a little clumsy…

“That’s not a scary ‘person’? That’s stretching the definition of humanity too far.”

She seems quite a bit more clumsy.

What’s in front of me isn’t a person but a green muscle monster.

In other words, an orc.