Editing City Series:Volume2 Chapter 5 (section)

===Part 4===

Ralf sat in a Savoy Hotel hallway.

He leaned his back against the black wall and kept an eye out to protect the door leading to the room Valeath and Moyla were inside.

His face was expressionless and he said nothing, but he held his right shoulder in his hand as if to hide the missing arm. The shoulder was wrapped in bandages and blood seeped into them in the shape of his fingers.

He had been sitting out here ever since they had returned the night before and Valeath had entered the room carrying Moyla. He had not moved in the slightest.

Not long before, he had heard a bell ring five times.

It was morning already. It was time for people to wake up.

But he did not try to get up or stand up. Instead, he muttered under his breath.

“Truly, god will not save us.”

He ended his words with a sigh. It was a heavy sigh. It floated white in the air and dissolved into the hallway air. It became one with London’s air.

“…”

After seeing his sigh fuse with London’s air, he began to close his eyes.

But in that instant…

“…?”

He heard something. It was a quiet, slow, and yet continuous sound from beyond the door next to him.

He heard footsteps.

Someone was walking this way in order to leave the room.

Light filled Ralf’s eyes.

At the same time, the door opened.

He looked up on reflex and saw who stood there.

“Valeath.”

Valeath held a hand on his sheathed sword and looked down at Ralf.

And…

“I will go hunt more voices. We still need eighteen more races.”

Ralf stood at that. His gaze rose higher than Valeath’s in an instant and he asked a question.

“What happened to Moyla!?”

“…”

“Did she Ash!? Or did she Balance Fall? Either way, did you take care of her to the end!?”

He finished shouting, grimaced, and held his right shoulder.

Meanwhile, Valeath said nothing and took a step into the hall.

“Answer me, Valeath!”

Only after snapping at the man did Ralf notice something.

Someone who should not have been there stood where Valeath had been. She should have been dead and yet she stood there.

Ralf called her name.

“Moy…la?”

Moyla had been unconscious and dying when she had been brought here, but now she stood next to Valeath.

And she stood firmly on two legs.

“…”

Ralf was confused, but he forced a smile that did not reach his eyes and he lightly raised a hand.

“Oh… That’s great, Moy-…”

She began walking without even hearing him out and her expression seemed somehow blank.

“Moyla?”

He called out to her as she passed by.

She said nothing and did not turn toward him.

She simply continued forward. She was not avoiding him. She walked slowly at an even pace as if she could not even see him there.

Her movements lacked the previous unreliableness of the sick.

“Wait…”

He started after her to stop her and he grabbed her hand.

As soon as he did, he heard the sound of a match being struck.

“!”

He frantically let go of her and opened his own hand.

Bluish-white smoke rose from his fingers. The surface was drawn tight and looked burned.

He frantically looked to her and saw similar smoke rising from her hand where he had grabbed her.

He knew the identity of that raw-smelling smoke. As a minister, he knew all too well.

“When an unclean one contacts a holy man…”

At that point, he realized everything that had happened.

He turned his back on Moyla, faced Valeath, and shouted at the man.

“Are you moving her corpse with an Over Contract!?”

Valeath remained silent, but that was enough of an answer.

Ralf approached him. He used the shocking action to Task himself and grabbed Valeath’s collar with his one arm.

“What are you thinking!?”

Valeath maintained his silence, but Ralf did not care. He pulled the collar toward himself and glared directly into Valeath’s eyes.

“She was exhausted from being with you so long! Being freed from that life would have saved her! Even if it came in the form of death! But you…! You…!”

Ralf shoved Valeath away.

Valeath swayed one light step back, but his expression and general atmosphere remained unchanged. Ralf was the one to press his back against the wall and limply slide to a sitting position.

“How could you do this?” he muttered.

“Because I decided it was for the best,” replied Valeath.

His tone said he would reject anything more on the topic and he started to walk away. He spoke once more without turning back toward Ralf.

“We will carry out the mission tonight. You heal that arm.”

Ralf held his stump of a right shoulder as he listened to the fading footsteps.

He hung his head and curled up as if to seal himself off from the outside world.

And…

“Why can I never save anyone?”