The time I’d spent half-unconscious hadn’t been long—half an hour, at most.
Divine power-wise, I was fragile now—prone to burning out quickly, but recovering fast. That contradiction was one of the biggest gaps between “me” and Dietrich Becker. True unity would take time.
Carried on Ashita’s back, I finally left Palma’s slums behind.
◇◆
The alleyways were dim. Googlᴇ search NoveI[F]ire.net
Filthy vagrants slumped by the roadside, glaring at us with resentful eyes, but only for a moment.
Zoë and I? Just a pair of scrawny runts. Ashita's clothes got splattered with my vomit. No one in their right mind would pick a fight with us.
I shut my eyes and meditated, willing my divine power to recover. Chanting prayers, chuckling at Mother Asclepia’s bitter little jokes.
The two hands of Asclepia: one heals, one takes away.
Yes… my goddess’s hands were two. A priest’s power wasn’t just healing. There was more ahead. A path upward. Even I—tiny as I was—still had room to grow.
The alleys twisted like a maze, lined with crumbling hovels. Alone, I’d never have found my way back to Abby’s place.
At last, the alleys gave way to cobblestones. That was when I realized something.
“Ashita. Zoë. Either of you, do you have any cash?”
The two exchanged looks, then nodded.
“I’ll pay you back. Lend me some.”
“Sure thing,” Ashita answered, her voice cheerful.
She set me down, reached into a hidden pocket at her collar, and pulled out two silver coins.
“—!”
Zoë’s eyes widened. She fumbled at her own clothes, then offered two coppers, frustrated.
“My thanks, both of you. I’ll repay you. But for now, we’re buying clothes.”
“Clothes?”
Both girls tilted their heads in unison. An expected reaction.
I sighed.
“Think. We’re going to work. Got it? You’re coming with me to Alex’s clan—that muscle-head’s place. You really gonna show up looking like this?”
Right now, we could’ve blended in with the roadside beggars. Ashita was smeared with puke. We had to look the part.
“By the way, Ashita… How long exactly do you plan on following me?”
A natural question, yet her face hardened.
“I’m your guard. Abby said so. And you nodded, remember? I’ll follow you wherever.”
“I nodded?”
Alarmed, I glanced at Zoë. She smiled wryly and nodded.
…Damn magic-drunkenness.
My memory from earlier was a blur. Still, she had a point. Alone, Zoë and I wouldn’t have made it this far. If the vagrants had turned violent… we’d be done.
Ashita was different. Big. Ogre blood running through her veins. Already taller than 170 centimeters, lean but muscular. One glance at the horn on her forehead and anyone knew her type. A glare from her could scatter street thugs. Abby had chosen well.
“Okay. I’ll rely on you.”
“Good. As long as you understand.”
Led by Ashita, we ducked into a nearby side street and entered a shabby used-clothing shop.
It wasn’t glamorous. But it was right. We weren’t rich, still half street-rats. This was the place.
Ashita and Zoë picked out relatively clean hand-me-downs. Nothing stylish, but fresh enough to pass.
The problem was the outfit I picked.
High collar. Hem to the ankles. Twelve buttons. Leather belt. Sturdy stitching, well-made, reasonably priced.
I loved it.
Ashita did not.
“That’s a Riasa, isn’t it? You did that on purpose?”
“Riasa? What’s that?”
Zoë rubbed her temples like she had a headache. Ashita’s voice sharpened.
“That’s what Asclepia’s priests wear.”
“I see… And that’s bad?”
I frowned. I really liked it.
Ashita’s expression softened, concern flickering across her face.
“I-I’m not saying it’s bad. But if you wear that, stinking of Kyara incense…”
Kyara incense? And a Riasa? What exactly is she implying?
She shook her head, reconsidering.
“Anyway! You already reek of Kyara! That alone’s dangerous enough. But if Abby finds out you wore a Riasa on top of that, there’ll be hell to pay!”
“Abby? Why?”
Ashita squirmed, eyes darting nervously, voice dropping to a whisper I barely caught.
“The church knights will notice…”
“Hm? Speak up.”
She shook her head, refusing to repeat it. The danger was real. And I wasn’t going to get an answer.
“So it’s no good… I see.”
Come to think of it, the Dietrich Becker from my dream wore something just like this. That outfit had felt… right. Cool, even.
I clenched my jaw.
Ashita flailed.
“I-I’m not saying it’s bad! Just… don’t go wearing it outside, alright!?”
That… sounded like wiggle room.
“Then only for work. I’ll wear it only while working. How’s that?”
For some reason, she looked on the verge of tears.
“I said I’m not saying no!! Don’t look at me like that!”
Is my face that pitiful?
I glanced at Zoë. She avoided my eyes, looking guilty.
Still. I couldn’t let it go. This Riasa was perfect. Old, a little faded, sure—but sharp, dignified, and inspiring. The ideal work uniform.
Ashita ran a hand through her hair, shouting.
“Fine! Fine! But only while working! And you explain it to Abby yourself!!”
“Really!?”
Yes! I pumped my fist to my chest.
Thus, I obtained the Riasa.
No other uniform would suit me better. Just seeing it filled me with spirit, divine power bubbling beneath my skin.
At last, Alex’s clan came into view.
That muscle-head’s den.
I couldn’t wait.
“Mind if I change over there, behind that corner?”
Ashita groaned, exasperated.
“Do whatever you want. Abby told me to respect your choices as much as possible.”
“No problem, then!”
“Actually… all problems, really.”
With that, she gave me a wry, knowing smile.