* * *[ Friede ]* * *
Hilde, lying with her eyes closed as if dead, paralyzed by the poison.
Upon arriving at the scene, Friede first checked Hilde’s condition.
‘Breathing is normal… heart is beating well too. As expected, it was just a simple sleeping agent.’
If that was the case, there was no need to worry. If left alone, it would naturally detoxify over time and she would wake up again.
Only then did Friede let out a faint sigh of relief and lift Hilde’s sleeping body, laying her down carefully on dry ground where the undead giant’s blood hadn’t spread.
‘No matter how I think about it… it’s still a bit strange.’
Friede looked down silently at Hilde’s sleeping face. Her large golden eyes were filled with doubt.
‘She’s definitely Brunhilde, but…’
There was no doubt that the woman lying before her was Brunhilde.
Appearance, voice, physique, swordsmanship, even body scent. Everything matched the Brunhilde from before.
It wasn’t something a fake could imitate.
So, the woman collapsed before her eyes must undoubtedly be Brunhilde herself. Friede was certain of this.
However…
‘…She’s changed too much. To an abnormal degree.’
Only her outward appearance remained the same as before.
Her changed personality could be explained as her having hidden her true nature during the hero’s party days, but…
‘She’s become weaker. Noticeably so.’
The Brunhilde she had met again had skills that were completely different from before.
Friede was certain. The fact that Brunhilde’s combat prowess had weakened to an abnormal degree.
It was a conclusion she had reached after observing her struggle against the undead giant.
* * *
Immediately after capturing the Abyss Priest Hugh Casvail and dismembering him to the point where no recognizable form remained, as Brunhilde had requested.
Friede took Hugh’s head, which she had left for identification, and returned to the battlefield where the undead giant was rampaging.
More precisely, she climbed onto a branch of a giant tree at a distance far enough not to be noticed by her party members, but from where she could overlook the entire battlefield.
Too quick a return would have caused unnecessary suspicion.
It was already shocking enough that a copper token adventurer had taken down an Abyss Priest. And to have done it in such a short time?
Anyone would find it strange. It wasn’t something possible for a mere copper token adventurer.
Therefore, Friede decided to hide in the tree and bide her time for a while before rejoining.
While also watching Brunhilde’s battle.
‘Now that there are fewer eyes on her, she’ll fight properly, right?’
Until then, Friede had thought that Hilde was hiding her true abilities.
If an ordinary copper token adventurer were to display combat prowess exceeding that of a knight, it would attract an excessive amount of attention.
For Hilde, who was clearly a wanted person, such attention was a danger that had to be avoided as much as possible.
That’s why Friede had thought that Hilde’s inability to land effective hits against Hugh was also part of an act to feign mediocre skills and a way to probe the enemy’s techniques.
However…
‘…Why is she fighting like that?’
The fight between Hilde and the undead giant that Friede observed was unfolding in a manner she couldn’t understand at all.
Brunhilde’s fighting style was to mercilessly pierce the enemy’s vital points with thrust-focused swordsmanship, and then tear apart the enemy’s flesh and bones with her unique strength.
However, Hilde fighting the undead giant seemed to have completely forgotten her old style, showing an incredibly clumsy battle.
Movements that meaninglessly retreated and gave the enemy opportunities to attack. Slashes that used too little strength and couldn’t inflict proper wounds.
It was behavior reminiscent of novices who had just been recognized as apprentice knights.
‘Is she still acting…? Even for Brunhilde, fighting like that is a bit dangerous…’
Movements so clumsy it was hard to believe it was Brunhilde’s fighting.
If she made a mistake and took even one hit like that, even Brunhilde would have a hard time avoiding serious injury.
After all, she was strong in power, not tough in body.
‘…Is it because those women are still there?’
Friede frowned with doubt and looked towards Gerda and Amy who were supporting Hilde.
‘Will she fight properly once they’re both dead?’
She contemplated ominous assumptions she would never have even imagined before.
Of course, this was just imagining a hypothetical situation. She wasn’t actually thinking of ambushing and killing Gerda and Amy herself, or letting them die at the hands of the undead giant.
‘Hmm… that wouldn’t be right, would it?’
Neglecting or inducing the death of temporary comrades just to satisfy her curiosity. How could someone wearing human skin do such a thing?
Friede, who had become more honest and faithful to her desires than before, still retained at least a minimal conscience. The conscience of a former hero.
‘If it really looks dangerous, I’ll have to help.’
Therefore, Friede grasped the greatsword she had taken out instead of Nibelung and observed the battlefield, gauging the timing to naturally join in.
Thirty seconds passed like that.
‘Ah, now she’s fighting a bit more like before.’
Friede smiled, her eyes shining at the suddenly changing battle situation.
The undead giant that had started to slow down, perhaps because the power given by the Abyss Priest had run out, and Hilde who had begun to launch an aggressive offense for the first time since the battle began.
Seeing the undead giant’s body being torn and cut with each swing of her sword, it seemed she had finally decided to use her unique strength without hesitation.
Hilde, who sat down gasping for breath after cutting off the undead giant’s neck.
‘She sat down…?’
Friede tilted her head slightly as she looked down at Hilde from afar.
She had shown a similar appearance to before, but there was still something subtly clumsy about it.
Should I say she was wasting too much energy?
The Brunhilde from before would have at least left enough stamina to stand and swing her sword.
Not panting and unable to stand on her own like now.
‘I’ve rarely seen her like this before.’
Failing in power and stamina management against a mere undead giant. It was a sight unimaginable before.
‘Why on earth is she acting like this…?’
Just as Friede was about to ponder deeply on the reason-
“…Huh?”
Gerda, the party’s ranger, suddenly acted in a way that mercilessly cut off Friede’s thoughts. Friede’s eyes widened.
Gerda slashing Amy with a dagger and making her collapse, then pointing the dagger at Hilde and tying her up with rope.
“How dare she…!”
A clear betrayal to anyone’s eyes. Sparks flew in Friede’s eyes.
She erased all the thoughts that had been floating in her mind and sprinted off the tree branch with an enraged face.
To drive her greatsword into the head of the traitor.
* * *
And so, now.
Friede, having become certain that Brunhilde had weakened, looked down at her and pondered the reason again.
While her basic physical abilities didn’t seem much different from before, only her skills had greatly declined. It was difficult to understand.
‘Memory loss…?’
The first hypothesis Friede came up with was that there might be some problem with Brunhilde’s memories.
If she was fighting on instinct alone due to lost memories, those clumsy movements would be understandable.
‘…No, that’s not it.’
But Friede immediately denied this hypothesis. Thinking about it carefully, it didn’t make sense.
‘Brunhilde was covering her face with a helmet.’
The fact that she was covering her face meant that she understood she shouldn’t have her identity discovered.
In other words, it meant that Brunhilde herself knew that she had become a wanted person in the Rhine Kingdom for deserting the hero’s party.
If she had forgotten so many memories as to lose her old skills, she should have naturally forgotten about deserting the party as well, right?
The very fact that she was covering her face seemed to be evidence proving that there wasn’t a major problem with her memories.
‘Her other memories are fine but she’s only forgotten how to fight? Logically, how could such a thing be possible… Wait a minute.’
Friede, who had been shaking her head thinking it couldn’t be, suddenly had a thought and slightly opened her mouth, lowering her head to look at her own hands.
Her small, slender hands that had returned to her original body after being transformed into a male body for a while.
This too was something far beyond common sense. An anomaly caused by the power of the holy sword.
‘If it’s a holy sword, if it’s the power of a holy sword, maybe such a thing is possible…?’
Friede judged that if it was the power of a holy sword, it might be possible to take away only Brunhilde’s strength while leaving her memories intact.
‘Then, is Brunhilde’s weakening due to Nibelung’s power?’
It was a plausible inference.
Although she couldn’t understand how it had interpreted the wish to meet again in such a way as to take away Brunhilde’s power… anyway, as a result, they were able to reunite as copper token adventurers like this.
Of course, she couldn’t be certain of this. It was an inference that was close to fitting pieces together based only on the result, an extrapolation that was far too excessive.
Moreover, it was an inference that provoked strong psychological resistance.
If the reason for Brunhilde’s weakening was due to Nibelung, it would be no different from Friede herself having placed the worst curse on Brunhilde.
‘…Perhaps it might not be Nibelung’s doing.’
Therefore, Friede tried to deny her own inference and think of new possibilities.
Fortunately, there was one more holy sword that could be considered a suspect besides Friede’s own sword.
‘Maybe Gunther did something.’
Dáinsleif, the holy sword possessed by Gunther, the hero of the Burgundy Kingdom, was also a type of holy sword.
Since the true powers of holy swords are national secrets of each country, even Friede didn’t know the full extent of Dáinsleif’s powers, but…
‘It’s suspicious.’
If it was a holy sword on par with Nibelung, that sword too must have some absurd power. It was worth suspecting.
Perhaps that sword might have the power to steal others’ strength.
‘…Yes, that seems right. That guy was trash who took pleasure in stealing from others.’
He liked taking things so much that he even stole members from other countries’ parties, so who’s to say he wouldn’t steal power?
Thinking that way, everything made sense.
The reason why Gunther, who still had the party members provided by the Burgundy Kingdom intact, tried to acquire party members from other countries as well.
The reason why Brunhilde suddenly became weaker.
The reason why she, who had given up on the Rhine Kingdom’s hero party, abandoned even Gunther’s party which she had chosen as an alternative and went into hiding.
And the secret behind Gunther’s recent string of successes and rising fame.
‘Yes. It’s all Gunther’s doing…!’
All of those things must be because he stole the power of Brunhilde and other transferred party members.
That’s why Brunhilde had no choice but to leave Gunther’s party and go into hiding.
Staying by Gunther’s side would only mean falling into the role of a slave, submitting her power to him.
In fact, this was nothing more than an absurd misunderstanding. The reason for ‘Brunhilde’s’ decline in skill was actually because she wasn’t Brunhilde herself, but…
‘There’s no doubt…!’
The fact that the soul inside Brunhilde had changed was something impossible for even Friede to imagine.
Therefore, Friede nodded as if she had finally found the answer, burning with hostility towards Gunther.
The half-elf plunderer with a disgusting personality who had stolen Brunhilde’s power – and perhaps not just her power, but other things as well.
In Friede’s mind, Gunther’s image was already fixed as an irredeemable villain.
Of course, since he was an opponent she couldn’t defeat now, even if they were to meet again by chance, she would have no choice but to flee with Brunhilde for now…
‘Someday…!’
Someday she would make him pay the proper price. Friede vowed this.
It was a somewhat unjust grudge for Gunther. Although, when you think about it, it was his own doing.