I Returned with the Cheat Holy Sword

In life, you’re bound to face all sorts of adversity.
Getting through hardships—he was used to that.

But having to deal with those hardships on easy mode—that was something else entirely. Enough to piss someone off on an otherwise normal day.
“I can’t think of a way.”
⋯⋯⋯⋯

“No, seriously—just sitting the Hero in the same space as other people is already a challenge. What the hell am I supposed to do? How’s that any different from tossing a wolf into a pen full of sheep?”
⋯⋯You.
“What.”

⋯⋯⋯⋯Never mind.
The Holy Sword’s voice deflated.
It sounded like she had something to say but couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

He was curious, sure, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that.
‘…I’ll have to at least try.’
The reward on the line was just too tempting. It was clear it would help with what lay ahead.

In that case, there was no avoiding it. He’d have to go find someone who might actually be of help with this kind of situation.
The next day.
“I hate itttttt—!”

“⋯⋯.”
Carlyle was completely at a loss for words as Elena practically screamed like she was being murdered.
“I haven’t even told you what I need yet.”

“I don’t care what it is—I’m not getting involved with that monster! Absolutely not—!”
“⋯⋯.”
Yeah, it looked like asking Elena herself to be Gray’s friend was a non-starter.
He’d only mentioned Gray’s name.

And now Elena’s eyes were glistening with tears, her whole body trembling like she was about to seize up.
Well, to be fair, this was probably the normal response to hearing the name of someone who almost killed you once.
Alright, time to change the approach.

“Then you wouldn’t have to interact with her yourself—could you just help me think of a way for the young lady to make a friend?”
“A friend… hmm… don’t you just have those?”
“⋯⋯.”

“I mean, I just ended up with mine somehow, so I’m not really sure how it works…”
Goddamn it.
She’s a natural-born socialite.

Overflowing with empathy, but can’t relate to people who are empathetic yet weirdly antisocial.
‘Actually, yeah.’
At first, he thought she was the same type as Gray—rigid posture, stiff neck, uptight—but that was probably more of a defensive mechanism to avoid being underestimated.

She might be a bit swayed by people and situations, but at her core, she was personable. Efficient, too.
It’d be more surprising if she didn’t have friends.
“⋯⋯.”

Hmm.
Then yeah—he had no choice but to ask her.
“Well then, how about we give it a try?”

Elena tilted her head.
“A try?”
“We need something to happen for the quest to proceed, right?”

Whether it ends in failure or success, something has to start for change to follow.
“Could you set up a seat for her? Somewhere that might lure the young lady in?”
A few days later.

“⋯⋯Will this really be okay?”
“How would I know…? You’re the one who asked for this, remember?”
“I mean, yeah, but it’s not like we had other options.”

Elena standing beside him just smiled silently.
Well, “smiled” was putting it generously. Her eyes were totally dead.
Anyone familiar with Gray’s personality would react the same way upon seeing her sitting silently among the other students.

At Yoram, there were all kinds of events meant to help freshmen bond and strengthen camaraderie.
This picnic was one of those—laid-back, lots of food, chatting, and mingling.
‘…And yeah, that’s what I used to bait her here too.’

Yoram’s picnics were famous for having good snacks.
Little-known fact: Gray Chasefield was a hardcore dessert addict.
Even after the demon invasion and the collapse of society, she’d cram sweets into her mouth the second she found them.

What else am I supposed to do when something tastes good?
‘…’
I don’t even think this was me being weak. If someone had lured me with sweets, I’d probably show up to something like this too.

‘…’
Right, sure. Whatever you say.
Anyway.

This kind of event was probably the best place to make friends.
But of course, the centerpiece of the whole thing had to be Gray, sitting dead in the middle.
“I—I’m not responsible for anything, okay? If something happens, it’s not my fault, got it? I’m not taking responsibility!”
“You make her sound like a walking time bomb.”

“Isn’t she?”
“⋯⋯You’re not wrong.”
Carlyle couldn’t even deny it. His answer was awkward at best.

But he was being serious when he said they didn’t have a choice.
After all, how else could she make a friend unless she spent time around people?
He didn’t know what the quest’s definition of “friend” was, but at the very least, there needed to be some kind of interaction.

Even Carlyle couldn’t pull that kind of emotion out of thin air. Gray had to make the decision herself.
‘Hmph.’
Still, even so…

“…I’ll step out for a bit.”
“Huh? Wait—why? Where are you going?”
Elena’s eyes screamed, Don’t leave me here alone.

She clearly thought Gray going ballistic was practically inevitable.
“I’m going to ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ get someone who might be able to stop her.”
“⋯⋯.”

“If it really gets out of hand, just call me first.”
Given how the Vespa incident turned out and everything else since, she was definitely improving.
Surely she wouldn’t cause a full-blown catastrophe in just a few minutes.

“⋯⋯.”
Probably.
***

So annoying.
Gray sat there listlessly, thinking just that.
It was noisy. People were saying pointless things.
And yet they all had these bright smiles plastered on their faces like something was actually great.

When most of them weren’t even smiling for real.
Just fake expressions—social masks.
“⋯⋯.”
Without sparing a single glance at any of that, Gray picked up the various snacks on the table and started popping them into her mouth.

‘Not bad.’
Her expression softened—just a little.
Now that she was inside Yoram, doing whatever she pleased was no longer an option.

Getting good desserts was a rare opportunity.
As she crammed sweets into her mouth and chewed, she felt gazes prickling from all sides.
It was rare to see the Hero in person like this. Of course, she drew attention. Some even mustered up the courage to approach.

“Um, H-Hero, excuse me—”
But the second Gray locked eyes with them in silence, their faces turned pale and they bolted.
“I’m s-sorry—!”

Even at the continent’s most prestigious academy, very few first-years could endure the pressure of being in her presence.
Gray only scoffed quietly.
People with no guts weren’t even worth acknowledging.

More importantly—
‘I should try some other stuff…’
Maybe something besides snacks would taste good.

With that thought, she sampled a few of the other dishes laid out on the table—
—and immediately frowned.
‘His food tasted better.’
This was all either too sweet or too salty.

But the meals Carlyle made? Those, at least, she could eat.
‘Now that I think about it, that’s weird.’
He managed to do what even the top chefs at the Ducal House couldn’t.

It was like he’d been cooking for her for years—able to hit her narrow band of preferences dead-on.
In other words, Carlyle was strange.
People who didn’t piss her off were rare.
“Hero? So this is where you were?”

…Exactly.
Just because someone was annoying didn’t mean she should crush them right away.
“⋯⋯.”

The moment she heard a friendly but unfamiliar voice, her fist twitched reflexively—
—but Gray forced the impulse down with a long sigh.
From Carlyle’s perspective, he’d probably be amazed to see how far his efforts had come.
Look at that—
The Hero actually held back.

Once upon a time, if someone spoke to her while she was eating, she’d have already punched them.
“Is this our second time meeting in person?”
“⋯⋯.”

But the next action was probably going to push her patience even further.
Without even asking, the man took a seat across the table like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Gray’s gaze turned ice-cold.

“Who are you again?”
“Leon Grimbalz.”
“And who the hell is that?”

“⋯⋯.”
The man blinked, staring at her.
“You, uh… personally kicked me last time.”

“You really think that narrows it down?”
There were dozens of those.
“⋯⋯.”

Leon looked like he was only now realizing what kind of person he was dealing with.
But he quickly pulled himself together, cleared his throat, and continued.
“…Well, I had a bit of an issue with that Carlyle guy.”

Ah.
Now she remembered.
He was the one who picked a fight with Carlyle—and then got his ass handed to him by her.
“⋯⋯.”

She didn’t even want to speak to him, yet here he was acting familiar.
Gray gave him a flat, sullen stare.
Whatever he read into it, Leon forced a pleasant smile onto his face and kept talking.

“There was a misunderstanding at the time, I think.”
“A misunderstanding?”
“Yes. I was rude.”

His voice turned gentle and deliberate.
The kind of smooth, flattering speech that only came from someone well-seasoned in high society.
He must’ve gained confidence from his ability to approach the Hero in the first place.

Gray’s face didn’t change in the slightest.

From what he was saying, it sounded like he believed she had hit him because he dared to show romantic interest in her—
—but the real reason was that he’d insulted Carlyle.
Clearly, he still hadn’t changed that line of thinking.
“⋯⋯.”

It pissed her off.
Hearing someone badmouth Carlyle like that irritated her.
“I’m sure I can serve you far better than that unimpressive man without any verified qualifications or background.”

And that kind of line only made it worse.
Her eyebrows arched sharply.
If Carlyle were here, that would’ve been the first red flag.

“So, what’s your point?”
She spoke in a quiet, even voice.
Leon cleared his throat again and pressed on.

“If you’d allow me, I’d like to serve the Hero directly as a form of apology. I wish to become your personal attendant.”
A faint smile curled on Gray’s lips.
A smile of disbelief.

If Carlyle had seen it, that would’ve been red flag number two—knee-shaking level.
“You think you’re qualified? And how exactly do you figure you’re more qualified?”
“I can do everything better. I, Leon Grimbalz of the Grimbalz Count House, would never disappoint you.”

“You think you’re better than that guy?”
“Honestly, yes. Compared to me, he’s nothing.”
Leon declared, brimming with confidence.

“He’s just a no-name commoner with no background. I have no idea why someone like you would keep a man like that around—but I’ll make sure you forget all about him.”
Gray smiled brightly.
If Carlyle had seen that, he’d have felt a chill run straight down his spine.

Because at this point, even he would know what was about to happen.
“Oh, really?”
And then—

“Then let’s put it to the test.”
Gray’s fist came down—
—and Leon’s arm was ripped clean off.
Thunk.

The sound of a limb hitting the table echoed with surreal clarity.
“⋯⋯.”
“⋯⋯.”

In the sudden silence, blood sprayed from the stump like a fountain.
“Ah, g—GAAAAAARGHHH—!”
A scream like death tore through the air, bright red blood painting everything nearby.

People stood frozen, staring in blank horror at the scene unfolding in front of them.
“AAAGH! AAAAHHHHHHHH!”
Drops of blood splattered to the ground as the crowd instinctively backed away.

Gray just watched, utterly indifferent.
Thanks to the magic barrier she’d erected around herself, not a single drop of blood touched her.
“That guy took hits like this several times and kept standing. And you think you can stay by my side when you can’t even handle one?”

“AaaaaAAAGGHHH—!”
“Know your place and sit down. I’m the one who gets to decide who stays near me—so who the hell are you to interfere?”
“HAAAHH! AAHHHHHH—!”

“So annoying.”
She muttered irritably, drawing the Holy Sword and placing it on the table with a thunk.
Forged from sacred steel, the Holy Sword resonated especially well with divine power granted by the Orthodox Church.

As expected of the Hero, Gray could wield miracles.
Divine power flowed from her body, through the sword, and into Leon’s severed arm.
The bleeding stopped, the wound healed.

His screams finally faded.
Then—
She picked up the detached arm and casually plopped it back onto his shoulder.

“Go to the infirmary and get it reattached. If you wait too long, you’ll end up disabled.”
“⋯⋯.”
He panted, trembling, face pale as death as he stared up at her.

She stared back, eyes locked onto his—unblinking.
But unlike him, there was nothing in her gaze.
No rage. No malice.

Only weariness. Disinterest.
Like she’d just swatted a fly.
She felt nothing from this act of violence.

“Young ladyyyyyy—!”
From far off, Carlyle’s panicked voice came barreling in.
“What the hell are you doing—?!”

“He’s not dead.”
“⋯⋯.”
“You told me not to kill people. So I didn’t.”

Gray said this casually, sipping her drink.
A flicker of color returned to her eyes.
In fact, she looked more excited about the drink than about the act of ripping Leon’s arm off.

“This is tasty. Bring me more.”
“⋯⋯.”
Carlyle shut his eyes tight as he noticed the horrified stares of everyone around them.

Ah. Right.
He’d forgotten—because things had been going so smoothly.
This person…

She was a monster.
Oil to the water of the world. Someone who could never blend in.
A sigh rose from the Holy Sword.

Looks like we’ve still got a long way to go.
Making friends—
…was going to be a lot harder than he thought.