Meaning.
All actions have reasons behind them. We always attach meaning to our actions. We do it because that is simply who we are.
We all have a purpose to pursue. Our actions bring us closer to them. That much is obvious.
What is meaningless? Is it simply a tag we give to everything we cannot understand? Who decides what's meaningless or not?
Ideally, nothing is meaningless. We just do not understand it, or maybe we don't like its meaning.
Maybe all actions are inherently meaningless, and by stubbornly doing them, we prove them otherwise.
In short, what do I do now?
***
Upon closer look, the undead was much more horrifying than I thought.
-WHSSST!
I took a step back. The undead's blade cut through where my neck was, barely missing it.
What was up with this undead's obsession with beheading?
Adrenaline filled my veins. My heart raced wildly. This must be the craziest thing I have done in my life. Fighting that undead with bare hands? I was crazy.
Meanwhile, Angela had picked up her sword. She still seemed puzzled by my actions, but we had no time to talk.
The undead brought down its blade, intending to split me in half. I evaded it, but it felt as if I was still being stabbed repeatedly.
Ah, it must be the undead's murderous glaze.
While it was distracted by me, Angela struck down the undead. It groaned in pain. Seems like undead still feel pain? Or was it just a passed-down habit?
It retaliated, but the swing just pointlessly sliced through the empty space.
What should I do now? My eyes matched Angela's. With that, I was certain what needed to be done.
Angela's resolve was infectious.
The undead swept in brutal, undisciplined arcs. Many of them glazed my skin, sending shivers down my spine. However, things were still going all right.
I learned many things about the undead from my previous life.
First of all, undead are not intelligent, so they cannot discern feints and baits from real threats.
I took a long stride and threw a punch at the undead. However, I jumped back right before it landed. If I hadn't done that, my arm would have been sent flying.
Using that opening, Angela slashed the undead, then went for a vertical cut. The undead tried to block it, only to be hit with a thrust into its left shoulder instead.
Secondly, undead died once, so they must have a fatal injury, like a weakness, somewhere.
Angela had been targeting its left shoulder. Surely enough, groaning in pain, the undead could not hold its sword two-handed anymore. Tightening its right grip, it rushed at me. Why me!?
Finally, undead can still be tired. Through hard to notice, from what I've seen, the undead's movement does become more sluggish as time passes.
I continued to run away while the undead lashed out at me. Eventually, there would be no space left to run, and I would have to face it directly. This was not favourable.
The undead raised its sword skyward, and in that instant, I realised there was no more room to flee. Closing my eyes, I tried to dash past the undead.
-THUNK!—CLANG!
Its blade left a deep scar on the stair, then quickly launched at my back. Immediately, it met Angela's sword and bounced off, saving me from being cut in half. Her hair fluttered as it passed by me, which caught my eye.
...Angela's hair smelled very nice, like spring, or not?
Angela and the undead were locked in a fierce clash, though Angela seemed to have an edge. Right then, by sheer force, the undead drove her back, but she quickly readjusted her stance. The pressure emitted by this undead was no joke.
The undead let out a rough grunt, looking close to exhaustion, and yet it pointed its sword at us, glowing red ominously. Wait, glowing?
"!"
Angela widened her eyes in disbelief, completely bewildered by the scene. A vibrant, grim scarlet aura fully enveloped the undead's blade, a magnificent sight, save for the fact that it was aimed at us. I did not know what that was, but it cannot be good. Why was the difficulty raised all of a sudden? Wasn't this too much?
Step by step, the undead closed the distance, its blade gleaming in anticipation, sending anxiety all over us. Angela murmured a strengthening prayer while I shuddered under the pressure.
That moment, I knew we wouldn't get out of this easily.
The undead leapt at us, one-handed, its sword shot at us at bullet speed-
-SHLUK!
Completely unreactable, yet I was not pierced.
Angela was.
-SHLAK!
A beheading motion. A head fell off.
But not Angela's.
It was a clean cut.
The undead was beheaded.
"...Angela-"
"..."
The undead collapsed, and only then did I fully understand what had happened. Angela had shielded me from the hit because she knew I would not be able to dodge. She could have just dodged it herself, but she didn't.
She did not dodge the hit. Why?
What was the meaning of that?
"Why look so baffled? Were you really expecting me not to protect you properly after all of that? Really-"
Angela could not finish her sentence. Blood was coughed up from her mouth due to the embedded sword, which pierced through her chainmail and damaged her lungs. How painful must it feel?
What should I do? Do I need to remove the sword? How could I help her? Will she die?
What should I do-
"...Cain. Listen, let me offer you some final advice-"
"No. Angela, can't you do a recovery miracle on yourself? You need to quickly-"
"Cain. A recovery miracle cannot be applied to yourself. I will die soon."
Angela struggled to speak. Her breath laboured, yet her face was still unchanging. Still that impassive face. Still that unwavering look.
Angela yanked that sword out, followed by her painful groan, and then she sat down with her hand covering the wound.
Silence. Awkwardness. Nothing I thought of left my mouth—only the ragged breathing of Angela resounded. It was probably the same for Angela, too. I looked down at her, waiting for nothing to happen.
Angela broke through the stillness.
"Cain. Go right after you leave the entrance. In the city, the church will help you out, so—"
Angela coughed.
"—it will be alright."
"...Is that all?"
"...Yes"
After all of that deliberation, that was what she decided to say?
"Wait. What? Y-you don't have anything else to say? Don't you have any regrets? A final will? There must be something else, right? That cannot be it."
Angela just smiled at me.
"There is none. Now go."
I was at a loss for words, so I just stood there, watching as Angela's eyes drooped. Becoming dimmer and dimmer, as I watched helplessly.
"..."
"...T-"
I leaned in closer to her.
"Thank you, Cain."
...Thank you, too, Angela. For saving me. For showing me the "path". For everything.
***
Sunlight shining down through the gaps of the leaves, the forest was too bright, annoyingly so. Fresh grass and flowers were everywhere, making the air suffocatingly refreshing.
In hindsight, perhaps the atmosphere was just not right, making me irritable with everything. What am I even doing?
My actions were meaningless. My resolve was pointless. I really thought I could save her. Laughable. Struggling so hard for what?
"Still, I do not regret my actions. Meaningless as it is, at least I still manage to live. That is the important thing here, right, Angela?"
The cold corpse in my arms would not respond. Of course.
Brushing past the tree branches, far ahead, I saw the city, Edenhal. First impression, it was massive. Second impression, it looked like a mess. Pile of houses upon houses scattered everywhere, like building blocks cluttered around by a kid. Just what kind of weird city was I getting into?
I'm going insane. Really.