Holkina

"Long time no see, Akito-chan."

"Ah, ah..."

Confused by Holkina’s overly enthusiastic greeting.

Still as cheerful, still no sense of personal space. Even though they’d only met a few times, she gave the illusion of being an old, close friend.

In this world, she’s the only one who calls me Akito-chan.

"Still the same as ever, you are."

"Akiton's still as handsome as ever."

Holkina replied, but then fell silent all at once, her eyes narrowing as she stared at me.

Peering in close, tilting her head to the side, staring.

What’s wrong?

You’re not just the same old you—look at you, way better than before. Something happen?

Well, so-so—

There it is.

The heretic god stands beside me, answering for me.

Funny thing—even without power, the vibe, the aura… whatever you call it—it’s still the same.

Maybe it’s just me, but it feels stronger than before.

“Found it—Akitokun, who’s this girl?”

“Poor thing. Clinging to the past won’t bring you anything.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

Holkina tilts her head, playing dumb, eyes wide with feigned confusion.

“Nothing much. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, lead the way.”

“Yeah, follow me.”

Holkina says that and starts walking ahead.

I follow behind, stepping into the woods.

It’s like the forest on the island where the Demon King’s castle was built—thick, heavy, oppressive.

“Akitokun, be careful. If you lose sight of my back, you’re lost.”

“Lose sight of you?”

“Yeah. If you can’t see me.”

“…Is there something weird about this forest?”

“Secret~”

“Ah.”

A dry smile. A nod.

Something’s going on. But can’t talk about it. That’s the deal.

Well, it’s Holkina we’re talking about. She wouldn’t lie.

Just stay within two meters or so. Should be fine.

Anyway, I turned to the heretic god beside me.

Whispering, making sure Holkina couldn’t hear.

“What was that ‘pitiful child’ thing you said earlier?”

“What do you think it meant?”

“Don’t answer a question with another question. Hmm… let’s see…”

I rub my chin, thinking.

“You drop hints like that, but you never say anything without reason.”

“Smart girl. That’s why you’re where you are now.”

“And you also said clinging to the past is a trap. The past. The Eternal Slave era?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened back then?”

“Hearing a woman’s past from another woman?”

“You’re their goddess, aren’t you? Not just some ordinary girl.”

"Smart little thing. Hope karma catches up with you one day."

Karma... will it ever land?

I figure "karma" is the same as "divine punishment."

But there’s no god in this world right now.

That goddess—she said, “Since I’m here, why not?”—and slipped into the town I built, living as a commoner, savoring human life like it’s a feast.

So, no karma’s gonna hit her—guess that’s what I think.

"If you’re asking a god for anything, you’ve gotta pay the price."

I said it while walking, glanced sideways, and slapped my hands together—palm to palm.

Tossed in a quick bow, just for show.

"What’s that?"

"I’m making you a god in my world. It’s called 'two bows, two claps, one bow.'"

"Cheapskate."

"Even a local land god might accept something like this."

I pulled out DORECA, summoned sweet treats with magic.

Handed a bean dumpling, speckled with little bits, to the demon god.

"Still feels a bit more expensive, don’t you think?"

"Are you gonna teach me now?"

"Such a foolish child. The Goddess is capricious, you know."

"Can't you just eat and do nothing?"

“That’s what a god is.”

"Remember it."

She hadn’t been told a thing, but the way she stuffed her cheeks with daifuku was unexpectedly hamster-like, or something small and cute—somehow, that contrast was oddly endearing, so she settled for it.

☆

The Eternal Slave looked like the elves I’d seen before—same pointed ears, pale skin, that kind of thing.

But I didn’t feel anything elf-like about them besides their looks.

The race is called the Eternalslave, with a natural inclination toward wanting to become a slave.

She gets giddy when ordered, both mother and daughter eager to become slaves to the same master.

Honestly, there was more of everything else than elves, and not much elf-like about it at all.

Regret.

They’re kind of like dark elves, as far as I know.

Silver hair, tanned skin, most with sharp eyes and hostility radiating from them.

Apparently, once they hit a certain age without a master, Eternal Slaves transform into something called a Regret.

From those Regrets, I could sense a faint elf-like quality.

Following behind Holkina, we emerged from the forest.

There it was—a village.

A hidden settlement nestled quietly within the woods, exactly matching my stereotypical image of elves.

That’s fine… I asked Holkina.

“Where is this?”

“Our country.”

“Country? Not a town?”

“Yeah, a country. This is all there is.”

All there is…

“…Less than I expected. I thought ‘country’ meant more people.”

“Can’t you figure it out from the food we’ve been given?”

“…I’ve left it all to Yuria.”

Third Slave, Yuria.

Calm demeanor. I’ve handed over all internal affairs and numbers to her.

Some say I slack off because she’s in charge… but that’s beside the point.

So that’s it, then. That’s all there are.

Hard to judge the numbers with the trees blocking the view, but from a quick look—about a hundred, maybe a little more.

And then…

“The air feels thick.”

A few Regrettes were visible nearby.

All silver-haired, brown-skinned like Holkina—each one either furious or utterly downcast.

That’s what’s making the whole village feel so heavy.

“Was it really like this?”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“The image I got from you and Sveta was totally different.”

“Hey, come on. We sent the cheerful duo, remember? The bright ones.”

“Top two!?!”

I blinked.

“You’re saying Sveta?”

Sveta—the sixth slave.

A rare case—once a Regrette, then reborn as an Eternal Slave after tangled dealings with the Demon Saint’s Night.

All in all, she’s… a blunt warrior.

That’s how she talks—exactly the image you’d get.

Not dark, not like the swirling resentment of the Regrette here.

But if you asked if she’s bright? I’d have to deny it with every fiber of my being.

That’s just how she is, Svetlana.

“Yeah, we’re the top two.”

“Call me number one and her the number two, at least.”

“Whatever works.”

Holkina laughs, bright and easy.

I’ve thought it before, but now I’m certain.

She’s different—out of place among the Regrettes.

And suddenly, I remember the words of the Demonic Saint.

Something’s hidden about Holkina.

What lies beneath that endless brightness?

That’s what’s got me curious.