Escape From a Deserted Island With Enemy Female Soldiers

24 – Shared Suffering (2)

The saint and I set off towards the lake.

“This way, Magician.”

The saint walked ahead. She was completely different from the Valkyrie who told me not to stay behind her.

“Don’t get too close.”

It seems like she’s wary of me, telling me to keep my distance, but it’s sloppy. What’s she planning to do if I try to smack her on the back of the head?

“Excuse me, Mr. Caston.”

“Why?”

“Could you turn around for a moment?”

“I can’t do that.”

She won’t even look me in the face.

“We don’t know what might be ahead. Left, right. Please be sure to watch our surroundings. Magician.”

“Look, I’m not a magician.”

“Then what should I call you? Magician?”

“Yeah.”

You know well.

“I’ve been curious since before. Magician? Magus? What’s the difference?”

“Magus refers to magicians who carry out the pact of magic.”

“What, then. You could just say magician.”

“Then, can I call you the half-elf saintess?”

The saintess finally turned around. Her eyes were red like a rabbit’s.

“No? Of course not! Lumina and half-elf are different!”

“The pointy ears look similar, though.”

“You have a knack for getting on people’s nerves.”

Lumina are evolutionarily half-elves. They themselves hate being treated as such. It’s because of their pride as a race chosen by the goddess. Of course, that they were chosen is just a myth.

“Just like you hate being called half-elves, we Magus are the same. We are magicians, but we frown if called that.”

“What, we’re the best. Elitist. Is that it?”

“No. Unlike Lumina.”

“We aren’t either.”

The saintess answered sulkily.

They say that extremes meet. Lumina and Magus. Maybe the origins of the two words are quite similar.

“We’re here. The riverbank.”

The saintess said, pointing to a stream.

“If you follow this stream, you’ll find a lake.”

“The water good?”

“There were a lot of fish.”

“Then why didn’t you catch even one yesterday?”

I looked at her with suspicion, and the Saintess avoided my gaze. She turned her head quickly, but my eyes were faster. Her irises were orange.

After setting the fish traps, I went down to the lake and washed my hands and face first. It was about then that the Saintess spoke.

“Under the lake.”

“Huh?”

“There might be danger beneath the water. Like, water ghosts? Or something.”

So there really are water ghosts, huh.

“Did you meet this ghost here yesterday?”

No answer came. It was a sign of affirmation.

Clearly, yesterday the Valkyrie and the Saintess returned before sundown. If it was true they were attacked, then that meant there might be a monster existing beneath the surface that wasn’t affected by night or day.

“Still, it doesn’t look like there’s anywhere to bathe other than the lake. Looking at it now, the upper stream is way too shallow.”

The Saintess inhaled sharply.

White, orange, purple, pink.

The way her eye color flickered back and forth looked like a fireworks display.

“T-that, about washing… do you really have to?”

“Yes. I think I need to do that before I can even think of doing anything.”

“Then… then go ahead.”

Following the waterway down, there was the lake, just as the mysterious man had said. The water was unbelievably clear. The Saintess suddenly spoke.

“I should wash up too.”

“Ah, yes.”

My brain short-circuited for a moment, but I told her to go ahead. She must just mean a quick face wash, since she would have bathed yesterday. There’s no way she’d strip bare in front of me anyway.

“I’ll go behind that rock to take care of business.”

I grabbed the knife I’d use for shaving and David, and headed behind the rocks. I took off my clothes, laid them on top, and checked the water’s depth. Waist-deep, perfect.

[‘A monster might attack from below.’]

Following David’s advice, I scattered the lightweight stone on the lakebed. That should give me some peace of mind, at least.

Even still, I should wash up quickly and get out of here.

“Man, this is the life.”

Coming from the heat into the water was like heaven.

I was washing my hair and shaving when it happened. A splash, somewhere, broke the silence.

I turned my head immediately.

But there was nothing there.

“…Did I just imagine that?”

Even though it was a lake, the water wasn’t stagnant. There were several rocks here and there, and the current varied depending on location. It could have been just the water hitting a rock.

Of course, there was one other possibility.

[“Mana, give me mana.”]

The sound of ripples as a water spirit approached.

The very next moment. Before the lightweight stone could even react, I felt something heavy and cold wrap around my ankle.

[“…Gotcha.”]

*

“Got it!”

Rachel yanked the fishing rod. This one had some heft to it. That made five now.

“Not bad with your hands, huh?”

It was a comment for herself, acknowledging her talent for fishing, but also a compliment to the man who made the rod. For something thrown together so quickly, it was surprisingly durable.

Especially the line, it didn’t snap easily. Maybe it was because it was made from expensive stockings, nothing short of a really heavy fish could break it.

“Ugh, that stings.”

She’d been out on the sea too long. Looking up, the sun was high in the sky. Any more time fishing and she’d get burned.

Rachel rowed back to the deserted island. She shook out her outer coat, pulled it on, then settled in the shade of a rock for a moment’s rest.

“Haaa, gotta be careful with my skin.”

She’d lost her family to a mage, her friends were all dead. Now, Rachel had no one she was close to personally. Because of that, her life goals were modest. Thoroughly crush the magic kingdom, then retire to peace and build new relationships.

Ideally, she’d have a family. Get married to a kind man. For her future husband’s sake, skincare was a must.

“Guess staying alive is the priority, though.”

Rachel chuckled.

Suddenly, she recalled the backs of the saint and the mage as they set out this morning.

Especially the saint, Tiria Caston; she was worried about her well-being.

Tiria was the first person from the Holy Spirit Kingdom that Rachel had met in a month. It was only natural to trust her more than the mage from the enemy nation.

“…Colonel, I hope nothing happens to you?”

*

Following the man, Tyria stripped off her clothes and approached the rock where he was. With each step closer to him, her heart pounded, *thump, thump*, growing faster.

Just then, the man was completely absorbed in washing his hair. It seemed he hadn’t heard Tyria approach.

From the other side of the rock, a *splash, splash* sound swirled around Tyria’s ears. The sound of the man throwing water on his body.

Tyria also started scrubbing her body stiffly.

She was sweating from walking for so long in the sweltering forest. Even though it wasn’t planned, she had no choice but to bathe. Staying clean was essential, wouldn’t you agree, to avoid getting sick?

But, then, was there really any need to wash herself near the man?

Yes, there was.

One reason existed for that.

Water ghosts.

Physical attacks didn’t work on water ghosts. If those creatures tried to drown the man like they had yesterday with her and Rachel, there was no other way. Tyria needed to be nearby to intervene immediately.

Even if he was an enemy, cooperation was essential, stranded as they were on this deserted island. Tyria, who considered mages a social evil, had this much flexibility.

So,

This was necessary.

*Gulp*, Tyria swallowed and subtly peeked over the rock.

“Woah, wooah.”

The man’s body.

Trapezius and latissimus dorsi, deltoids and erector spinae.

Not a single thing was lacking, perfectly crafted.

The hawk-like spread of his shoulders, and the chiseled, firm muscles of his back. On top of that, droplets of water rose like sweat, and for a moment she was captivated.

“……”

Tiria’s face flushed crimson, as if molten metal had been splashed across it.

*I’m out of my mind.* To think, the first thing that leaps to my mind upon seeing a bare-chested enemy is a line from a salacious novel! This isn’t the mindset of a saint!

Yes. Salacious novels. Those novels that Catherine brought were always the problem.

How did it come to this?

It all began with the rebellion of a fellow saint, Bestie, in the past.

Bestie, the eldest among the saints, had gone out to perform a civilian baptism one day. There, she fell head-over-heels for a young man from the village, and wrote about her fantasies of him in a diary, which was discovered by the head priest.

-Come to your senses, Saintess! You, who are meant to deliver the Goddess’s words, cannot write such impure things!

The head priest reprimanded her so severely that Bestie went completely off the rails.

From that day onwards, Bestie began to mutter about wanting to go out and freely date to her fellow saints. Tiria, along with the other saints, were already sick of the austere church life, and felt considerable sympathy for her.

Then one day, Catherine, who worked in the library, brought back a piece of classical literature that depicted the union of man and woman.

The novel’s plot was simple. A man and a woman from two feuding families fall in love and run away together.

It was a common plot from long ago, but for the saints who had only ever read strict holy texts, it was like a pure shot of dopamine.

-Sisters! Look at this! There’s such impure content in classical literature!

-This must be designated a forbidden book. Let us manage it to prevent it from leaking out.

The love scene amounted to no more than two pages. And even that was written with very oblique word choices. Nonetheless, the six saints re-read that scene hundreds of times. So much so, that the paper in just that section yellowed and the ink wore thin.

And then after that.

-Something’s lacking, no, rather, there may be more of these vulgar books out there?

-That’s right. We must step in and censor them.

It was the beginning of a downward spiral.

The adolescent girls, with Catherine as their ringleader, began to run riot in the library. They borrowed every romance novel they could find, and if a new salacious novel was published, they’d rush to buy it.

-Wow, this is definitely on a whole different level than the books they used to publish.

-It’s just cheap pulp fiction, and the writing style is unbelievably trashy, low-class.

-These are all grimoires. Under no circumstances should they be leaked!

Tiria was completely consumed from that point on. Truthfully, there wasn’t much to do for entertainment, so it was unavoidable that she would pick up the pulp novels.

The high priest seemed aware of this, but for some reason he only gave a few warnings. Probably his intention was for her to feel guilty on her own.

In any case, it was the time when she was at her most morally lax.

As an adult, Tiria fell into a deep self-loathing. That’s why she cut off all novels and only read the Bible. To keep her faith. To maintain her face as a saint. From now on, she would live piously.

But.

After everything that happened yesterday, how could the Bible’s words enter her mind?

Anyway, there was only one thing Tiria had to do.

Observe the man’s movements.

If she accidentally made a splash, the man would turn around. Every time, Tiria had to quickly hide behind the rocks. She’d hold her breath and wait until the man turned his head away, then she’d resume her watch.

Using the excuse of checking if any water ghosts were approaching, she spent quite a while secretly watching the mage.

During that time, Tiria’s mind had become a mess, like fireworks exploding. So much so that she’d long forgotten her original thought to wash and get dressed before him.

And then, the anomaly happened when she was completely out of it.

“What the hell…!”

Something grabbed the man and dragged him under the water. At the same moment, Tiria snapped out of her daze.

No time to get dressed.

Tiria plunged into the water to save the man.