The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 106
EP.106 Encounter (2)
The reason I kept encountering people I hadn’t seen in the original story—was it because I had distorted the plot that much?
Honestly, it felt a bit unfair. Sure, I had meddled in some events behind the scenes, but it wasn’t as if I had turned the entire narrative upside down like the protagonists of some other transmigration novels. I hadn’t even made any attempts to romantically pursue the heroines.
Fine, I could understand why the Emperor was here. If he thought I was competent enough and wanted to personally assist his capable daughter, it wasn’t completely incomprehensible.
And as for Lena? Well, considering the chaos I had caused on the northern front, sending her to keep an eye on me made sense.
But that one?
No matter how sharp the Papal State’s intelligence was, they couldn’t have immediately figured out that Verratti had been captured and was spilling everything she knew. Northwood was deep within the Empire, far from the Papal State, and it wasn’t as if they could get there in a single night.
Even with a car, the roads leading to the Papal State weren’t perfectly maintained, nor were there trains running at this hour. And even if they’d realized the situation, it would take considerable time for reinforcements to arrive. Besides, entering this place required a relic.
Yet, the person’s attire showed no sign of the bright glow characteristic of relics.
“I’ve been trying to have a conversation since earlier,” the Emperor remarked casually, “but it seems she’s not the talkative type.”
I shot him a sideways glance. Did he have no information about this person, or was he just withholding it from me? The Emperor merely shrugged in response.
“However, one thing is clear,” he continued, his gaze fixed on the mysterious woman. “The relic that should have been inside this ruin has already fallen into her hands. Unless we defeat her and take it, it won’t be ours.”
Was that why he had waited here, blocking the entrance?
If her goal was simply to acquire the ruin’s relic, she could have fled without confronting the Emperor.
…But that didn’t explain why she had stood there, motionless, until we arrived.
“…..”
I took a step forward.
The figure remained still, watching me. For a moment, I wondered if she was even alive. Perhaps the Emperor had simply placed a statue there to mess with us.
As I moved, the others stepped forward as well. We spread out slightly, forming a loose semi-circle as we advanced, aiming to encircle her. There were still significant gaps between us, but it was the best we could do.
The first to act was Bella.
Her elongated whip-like blade transformed into a true whip, slicing through the air like a punishment descending on a criminal. It wasn’t just a weapon of torment—it was far deadlier than any ordinary whip. A strike from that blade wouldn’t just cut; it would tear through flesh and expose bone.
And just as Bella’s attack lashed out, the still figure moved.
Directly forward.
Toward me.
“Sylvia…!”
Alice shouted instinctively. From where Claire stood, I heard the sound of rapid footsteps.
But I wasn’t standing still either—
—Or at least I didn’t intend to be—
No.
The moment I aimed the shotgun at her and prepared to fire, a sensation gripped me.
It wasn’t a sound, per se. Rather, it was as if my instincts themselves froze my actions. A visceral, primal refusal to move.
You must not fire.
If I shoot that person, I will surely—
—regret it.
“…!”
A chill ran down my spine. My finger, which was resting on the trigger, convulsed as if it had been pulled back by an unseen force. It felt as though someone was gripping just my finger, preventing it from moving forward.
It wasn’t just hesitation—it was as if my very body was rejecting the action.
“No, don’t!” Claire’s voice cried out, urgent and sharp.
As the figure charged toward me, Claire swung her sword. A sword energy, trailing behind like a whip, sliced through the air. It followed just a half-beat behind her sword, aiming for—
For the black-robed figure—
It should have reached them. It had to.
*
What happened?
Claire had definitely swung her sword, and her signature sword energy slash had clearly aimed for the figure’s arm.
It should have hit. There was no room to dodge. It was clear even to my eyes.
But the sword energy didn’t hit.
“W-what…?”
Claire’s voice sounded confused.
I felt the stock of my shotgun being pushed back. The muzzle was pressed against the figure’s abdomen—not just touching, but actually sinking slightly into the flesh as the person continued advancing toward me with relentless force.
Her strength exceeded mine. My arms were pushed back, and the shotgun was forced downward.
And yet, even as this happened, my fingers refused to move.
No, it wasn’t just refusal; it felt as though my body was actively warning me of danger. One by one, my fingers—index, middle, ring, and pinky—released their grip on the weapon.
I lost hold of the shotgun entirely.
The figure, undeterred, leaned closer, almost as if to embrace me—though the gesture was far from comforting. Her approach was uncanny, almost mechanical.
A white mask loomed near my face.
Through the black voids of the mask’s eye sockets, I could faintly see her eyes.
A sharp whoosh cut through the air. Was it Alice’s blade? Or Bella’s whip-like sword? I couldn’t tell; my head wouldn’t turn to check.
The color of her eyes was obscured by shadows, but one thing was clear—they were human eyes, glowing faintly with life.
“Syl…via.”
The voice was distorted, as though the words were being stretched unnaturally, like a low-end computer struggling to render sound in a lagging video game.
It felt as if we were in different flows of time, mismatched in the same space.
And then—before she could finish speaking—
Claire charged forward.
With her shoulder, she tackled the figure—
*
The scene shifted abruptly, as if frames had been cut from a film.
I was now facing a different direction.
The figure’s voice, previously muffled by the mask, had been so close I could hear it clearly.
Claire’s charge missed entirely. She stumbled forward into empty air, failing to maintain her balance. Though she didn’t fall, the harsh scraping sound of her boots against the ground betrayed her unease.
“—never—”
Never what…?
But before I could hear the rest—
“——!”
Alice barreled into the figure’s side, sending her flying.
“Are you okay!?”
Before I could even register what had just happened, Alice’s face filled my vision. It seemed I had almost been dragged to the side along with the figure.
Alice was already holding me up as I fell.
“I’m fine—”
But the figure reappeared behind Alice, almost as if she had emerged from thin air. The dual swords she had been wielding earlier had vanished without a trace.
In her hands now was a revolver.
The same model I used.
It bore scratches and scuffs, old and new, likely from being battered and scraped in past battles.
But…
I hadn’t brought that today.
Before I could react, a massive slash extended from the ceiling, so long it could have cleaved through the entire height of the room, descending as if to execute the condemned.
With a jarring screech, the blade scored the ceiling, walls, and floor. Where the slash passed, the hand holding the revolver should have fallen away—
Should have.
But as if the event itself had been undone, the revolver remained in the figure’s hand, unshaken.
I gritted my teeth.
Again!
*
A sharp crack. The space shattered.
My head rang.
It was as though I had slammed into a wall at blinding speed. A high-pitched whine filled my ears, and a searing pain radiated through my skull as if my brain had been jarred loose.
My vision blurred. Perhaps it was from the tears welling up in my eyes.
Something gripped my collar, clutching it tightly as though trying to prevent me from falling further.
The hand pulling me from beyond the fractured space was white.
The edges of the broken space were razor-sharp, like shattered glass.
Even as blood dripped from her arm, the figure ignored the cuts and dragged me relentlessly. But—
It seemed I was too heavy for the hand holding onto me.
With a loud rip, the fabric of my collar tore apart.
I fell straight down.
*
“—via!”
I gasped, air rushing into my lungs like a flood after being deprived of it for too long. My chest burned, but the rush of oxygen cleared my head.
I realized I was lying on someone’s lap.
I blinked a few times, clearing my vision. The tears pooled in my eyes spilled to the sides, making way for clarity.
Above me, two concerned faces hovered—Alice’s and Claire’s.
Instinctively, I reached up and touched my collar.
The rough, uneven tear where the fabric had been forcibly ripped away was unmistakable under my fingertips.
…It really happened.
It wasn’t a nightmare.
I tried to sit up, but Claire pressed down firmly on my shoulders, keeping me against Alice’s lap.
“What about that person?”
“Gone.”
It was the Emperor’s voice.
“Vanished the moment you fell.”
“What about the battle?”
“A battle, it was.”
The Emperor’s voice held a hint of amusement as he spoke.
“Did we fight her?”
“……”
I couldn’t answer the Emperor’s question.