Chapter 341: True Face (1)

‘Oh, I see. I hadn’t reverted back to my original form yet,’ Vikir thought, narrowly escaping being crushed under the fist of Demonic Dragon. He transformed into a dog just before being flattened, thanks to Sinclaire’s magic buying him some time.

Unaware of this, Dolores was inspecting every corner of Vikir’s transformed body. “Oh? Your wounds seem to have almost healed. You must have a constitution that responds well to divine energy, my little Choco.”

She applied the ointment she had made with candy to Vikir’s remaining wounds, nearly completing his recovery. “Hmm, but there are still bruises left, so you should take more care. I’ll get some medicine for you, just wait a bit,” Dolores said, opening the shop window.

“Sturdy Bruise Medicine! – [3 Blue Candies]”

Seeing her buy medicine claiming to be good for bruises with three candies each, Vikir couldn’t help but think to himself, ‘…She’s still as gullible as ever.’

The injuries weren’t severe; a few days of rest would suffice for recovery. And who gives three candies each to a stray dog they met on the street, especially combined with bruise medicine? (That’s a total of six candies!)

Vikir discreetly pushed the medicine Dolores gave him into a corner of his mouth without swallowing it. He planned to discreetly return it later for a refund and exchange it for candy.

Meanwhile, Dolores continued talking, oblivious to Vikir’s thoughts. “Choco, you got caught up in the mess as well… But how did you end up here? Even if the environment is random on each floor, it’s still quite coincidental.”

“….”

“The chances of us coming here were 0.0001%, they say. We’re really lucky, aren’t we?”

“….”

Vikir lowered his head momentarily, overwhelmed by the awkwardness. ‘To escape this room, both prisoners must agree to leave. If one wants to stay, neither can leave.’

Vikir needed to persuade Dolores to leave this room if he wanted to get out. But Dolores seemed to have already made up her mind to stay in this room for a considerable period.

From the plush bed to the sofa, a considerable amount of food and water, and even a bath prepared, it was evident.

“Choco~ Since your wounds have healed, let’s take a bath together! The bath salts I make will be good for treating bruises too!”

Vikir sighed softly. Why did this woman like baths so much?

* * *

Vikir eventually found himself in the bathtub. There was no resistance, nor any reason to resist. In fact, the holy springs where divine energy seeped in were effective for treating injuries, so it was only natural for Vikir to humble himself and ask for this favor.

The large wooden bath was filled with warm water.

Splash—

Dolores pulled Vikir close, plunging into the water. “Wow, we’ve bathed together before, haven’t we? It brings back memories.”

Vikir nodded slightly. Back when he was a Graduator, after first encounter with Camus, they fought fiercely and then, as Vikir was returning to the academy, Dolores noticed him and dragged him to the bathhouse. She had said similar things back then, too.

“Bathing was my only joy in life. With all the studying, work, and volunteering, I didn’t have time for hobbies. Even our beloved board game club disbanded due to lack of members. Nowadays, kids are all busy with grades and extracurricular activities. The job market is so tough,” Dolores reminisced.

Words like romance, eccentricity, and leisure were now hard to come by. While acknowledging the change in academic culture, Dolores also longed for the past.

“Haha, talking about stuff like this while trapped in a tower by demons. It’s surreal, isn’t it?” Dolores chuckled.

Vikir quietly nodded.

Then Dolores tapped Vikir’s nose and whispered, “Huh, you seem to understand me perfectly, don’t you?”

As Dolores rose out of the water, Vikir turned his head quietly.

A silence settled in the bathhouse.

Vikir focused on his recovery, inhaling the faint steam rising from the hot tub. The holy energy emanating from Dolores’ body was speeding up the healing process inside him.

‘At this rate, a day or two should be enough,’ Vikir estimated silently.

Just as he was calculating the time needed for recovery, Dolores murmured something from behind.

“You know, this isn’t the time to just idle away here.”

Her voice trembled slightly as she continued, “Right before my eyes, classmates and juniors are dying left and right. People I’ve lived and studied with for years. They’re killing each other, betraying each other…”

What could she do as both a student and a devotee in the midst of such chaos? The rules set by demons, the game of malice unfolding. Within that, there was no room for virtues like kindness or love.

Dangerous creatures like Hellhounds and Bloodsoaked jade flowers lurked on every floor. The number of survivors was always fixed, and those who didn’t make it in were doomed to a miserable death.

Every time, Dolores had tried to sacrifice herself instead, but those around her vehemently opposed, insisting that healers must be protected.

Splash—

Dolores dipped her face into the water before pulling it out to wipe away the moisture. However, the moisture lingering in her voice remained uncleaned.

“…I pretended to accept the hearts of those who wanted to protect me. I turned a blind eye to the sacrifices of a few, using the excuse that we needed to save more people. I betrayed the desperate hearts of the weak.”

The weak, offered up as prey for the Jade flower, and the strong pushing them into submission. It was a situation that would seem irrational to anyone, not just a religious person.

“…But if we don’t offer ourselves, everyone will die.”

She wanted to sacrifice herself instead, but in truth, nothing much would change, and she was already the group’s leader, the emotional anchor for the survivors. She couldn’t act recklessly.

Throughout this process, Dolores agonized and fretted. What was the right course of action? Sacrifice oneself unconditionally? Or preserve one’s life for the sake of those left behind? Or…?

In the end, Dolores couldn’t find the answer to this dilemma in time.

As a result of the confrontation between the majority of the weak and the minority of the strong, the Bloodsoaked jade flower went berserk, and even the surviving students were wiped out.

In the midst of this brutal massacre, Dolores had to tear up the return scroll.

There was no other reason. She just wanted to survive.

“…I was powerless. I couldn’t do anything. From beginning to end, I was just tested by the demons.”

Dolores bowed deeply.

The hot steam rising from the hot spring in the bathhouse reddened her eyes.

And Vikir closed his eyes, pondering.

‘She’s really been consumed by her inner demons.’

This was Amdusias’s intention.

A strategy to break the beliefs and wills of the young sprouts who would grow into heroes, instilling inferiority, self-doubt, and helplessness in their place.

Indeed, before their eventual return, many aspiring heroes with grand dreams perished here.

‘…But even so, there were those who grew stronger and tougher despite these adversities.’

This was true for Dolores as well, who would later be known as the “Steel Saintess.”

She was said to have awakened on the front lines of the battlefield after the era of destruction had arrived. But in reality, her first awakening, the foundation for her second awakening, took place here, in the depths of the Abyss tree.

‘How to cast away these inner demons will be the key.’

Vikir also knows firsthand the rigorous process of ascending to master realm. It’s said that a few words of advice from a senior who walked this path before can make a tremendous difference.

Indeed, Vikir himself was able to ascend to the realm, in part, thanks to a few crucial words from Cane Corso, whom he met at the Sword tomb.

‘…What sage advice could be effective for Dolores at this point?’

Vikir pondered deeply.

Words to offer to someone destined to become a great hero.

At this moment, he needed to focus all his attention on the first words, discarding all distractions and extraneous thoughts. Though he was in a battered state, physically and mentally, after the battle with the Demonic Dragon, he still needed to gather as much strength as possible and concentrate his mind.

‘Perhaps the best thing would be for Steel Saint Dolores to hear the words she herself has spoken?’

Everyone can only speak based on their own experiences.

She, too, would understand herself better than anyone else.

In his past life, Vikir recalled the words that middle-aged Dolores, who had taken care of the wounded, always said.

“The more painful reality is, the more deeply we should contemplate the meaning of life and religion. Only then can it lead you to a better realm of goodness.”

It wasn’t just a random thought. It was the words Dolores had spoken directly to a young saintess who cried and blamed herself for not saving more people at the temporary shelter where the injured gathered.

Years later, Dolores, who had overcome numerous hardships and trials, passed on this wisdom imbued with life experience.

And now, across decades, it reached the young, inexperienced saintess.

As if realizing a great truth, Dolores lifted her head with shock.

And then, with an almost unbelievable voice, she spoke.

“…C-Choco. Did you talk?”