The Executioner and Her Way of Life, Vol. 5: The Promised Land

Unrest in the Holy Land

A few days before Momo reached the holy land with Ashuna…

After exchanging temporary farewells with Akari and watching the train leave with her and Master Flare aboard, Menou searched for a man who she suspected was still nearby.

She knew he had been in the station not long ago. There was no doubt about it, since she’d spotted him while chasing Akari. She’d ignored him at the time to prioritize finding Akari, but now she required his help.

While Menou was cautiously peering around, a man spoke from behind her.

“Hello, young lady. Judging by the way you’re wandering around the station, I can’t help but assume you’ve missed your train. Are you perhaps searching for the next ride to your destination?” It was as if he had calculated the perfect time to appear. “If you are in a bind, perhaps I can be of some assistance?”

The man who appeared right when someone needed him was none other than Director Kagarma Dartaros.

“That looks wonderful on you. A young lady getting dressed up is truly a sight for sore eyes,” Director Kagarma praised.

It was the morning after he and Menou had entered the cathedral as an Elder and his alleged daughter.

Menou was wearing a kimono borrowed from Manon’s effects. Her slender proportions and delicate facial features meant she looked good in just about anything, and a kimono was no exception, even if it was from a different culture.

“You truly have learned Flare’s Guiding Camouflage. Is there a reason you used genuine clothes instead of disguising them?”

Menou was a bit uncomfortable with Kagarma’s enthusiastic inquiry.

“I’m not trying to play dress-up or anything; it’s a matter of being practical. It isn’t easy to disguise your appearance with Guiding Camouflage, you know.”

She had trained extensively in the Guiding Camouflage technique to manipulate her appearance with Guiding Light, even while moving, but it was still a challenging skill to maintain.

Minimizing the risk of breaking the illusion because of a momentary distraction was worth the cost of procuring the necessary garments. It helped that Momo always made clothes for Menou when she was on an undercover mission.

“Manon and I are similar in stature, so it’s easier to disguise myself. And the less I have to alter, the better. That’s why I had Manon lend me a kimono.”

It occurred to Menou that Kagarma may have only posed his question because he was a fan of Japanese-style clothing. However, she decided it would be rude to comment on another’s preferences.

Menou moved her arm, and the kimono’s sleeve fluttered in the air.

She hadn’t yet mastered employing Guiding Camouflage while in motion. If it was necessary, she’d use it, of course, but the Executioner preferred to explore other options first.

“By the way, why did you agree to bring me here so readily?” Menou asked.

“To earn your trust, of course!” Kagarma answered.

After her encounter with Master Flare, Menou immediately searched for the Director. For better or worse, he had a long history with Flare and was sure to have something up his sleeve. Even if he didn’t, he was still worth contacting for information.

Still, that didn’t mean Menou had faith in him. She gave the hopeful Kagarma a cold stare.

“Oh? I seem to recall a certain person sneaking up and threatening me from behind. What am I to make of that, exactly?”

“That’s precisely why I’m laboring to aid you and win your confidence. I did say that I wished to have a nice long chat with you, did I not, Flarette?”

The smiling gentleman’s explanation made sense, but it still felt sketchy.

Fundamentally speaking, Menou had no trust in the Director. To her, he was still an enemy. That was why she remained blatantly standoffish… Menou couldn’t deny that she’d gained far more than she’d hoped by working with him, though.

“So was offering me all that critical information on the way here also part of your attempt to gain my confidence?”

“But of course. I revealed the secrets of Flare’s past to you. I should think you could spare me a small amount of credit for that.”

Menou had heard rumors of Master Flare’s golden age, but only in hearsay, never from the woman herself. However, Kagarma, who was a comrade of Flare’s during that time, had recounted many stories to Menou. Whether they were true or not, they had all been fascinating.

“Remember, you are my old friend’s successor. You’re welcome to call me Uncle Kagarma, all right?”

Menou shuddered. Noticing that her hand had automatically moved toward the dagger hidden at her thigh, she cleared her throat and carefully returned it to her knee.

“What I really want to know is what my Master is up to now, not her history. Her actions have been far too roundabout if she only wished to kill Akari.” She pressed on, trying not to let Kagarma steer the conversation. “Am I correct in thinking she aims to turn Akari into a Human Error?”

“Oh-ho… I might have known you’d be clever enough to figure it out without me. You must already have a hypothesis about how conjurings come to be, yes? The roots of civilization in this world? Let me hear it.”

Because Kagarma had insisted on prattling on about the past earlier, this was the first chance Menou had to discuss the matter with him.

As the man looked at her expectantly with the gaze of one who already knew the truth, Menou took a deep breath.

“When an Otherworlder’s Pure Concept goes out of control, a Human Error is born. The concept that resided in their soul becomes omnipresent. Only then can people like us, those who live in this world, use them as conjurings. Is that correct?”

“It is indeed.”

A Human Error was the rampaging final form of an Otherworlder. It was a calamity and, at the same time, a blessing in disguise.

“A conjuring is nothing more than a lesser imitation of a Pure Concept. Guiding Force is the energy that makes a phenomenon real, but the foundation of that phenomenon must exist as a Pure Concept. The Elders have spent the past thousand years accumulating conjurings in exactly this manner.”

When a Pure Concept attached to a soul, it brought conjurings into existence. Thus, an Otherworlder’s soul being taken over by a Pure Concept created new conjurings.

“The Elders even selected which Otherworlders to kill and which should be allowed to run wild.”

“I suppose the Elders are involved in controlling the road to the Sword of Salt from within the cathedral.”

“Indeed, for it is a rare weapon anyone could wield to kill immortals. Despite its danger, it is far too valuable to destroy. A wise choice, then, to keep it intact but far away from anyone who might use it.”

Unlike the ancient civilization, modern society was not capable of flight. Finding the small island of salt floating in the ocean would be virtually impossible.

Kagarma Dartaros, the founder of the Fourth, went on with a spark in his eyes. “It was decided that the governing of this world was best left divided among a small group. Lack of information would isolate the public. And so we crafted a system with which we few could accumulate knowledge. In spite of the damage done by Human Errors, that is. The Otherworlders who are summoned are sacrifices themselves, too.”

“But that’s…”

“The scriptures all priestesses carry are part of this intelligence-gathering system. The information they collect is closely examined by the Faust in this cathedral, then made known to the Elders at a yearly meeting. It’s all part of how they control the world.”

“Are you saying that even the Wild Frontier is man-made?”

“Here and there, yes. Very few regions are unmanageable in the truest sense of the word. Territories that were too large have been reduced or divided. Thus, the nations of this continent have been broken down into small enough pieces to prevent a mass insurrection by the Commons.”

The stream of knowledge could be cut off by disrupting the flow of humans.

It was the Fourth that attempted to overthrow this system and unify it all.

“Everything I’ve said so far is known to anyone at the archbishop rank. They are each in charge of a nation’s parishes, after all. Their duty is to collect the intelligence that comes to the holy land, too.”

The majority of churches contained an altar that allowed long-distance communication. It was possible to relay information across borders by sending specialized messages like the ones created with scripture conjurings.

“All people have the right to happy lives. They should all be free. The lost ones, too, are fragile and should be protected. And yet the damned Elders fancy themselves the world’s rulers!”

“Did you create the Fourth because you object to that?”

“How could I not?” Kagarma put his head in his hands, his voice hoarse and powerless. “But ultimately, I became one of those Elders myself without even realizing. I can never forgive myself…”

“I see.”

“Yes, through an unlucky coincidence. I had no idea it would lead to that. That’s all there is to it.”

“What are the conditions to become an Elder?” Menou pressed.

“You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

Despite Kagarma’s forthcomingness about many aspects of the Elders, he flatly refused to answer that inquiry.

“Long ago, I gathered people without care for their placement in the castes and collected information. You will have to find out in your way.” He didn’t volunteer anything more on the matter. Menou nodded silently. “Now, you’ve come to the holy land for young Akari, right?”

“Yes.”

“To find Akari Tokitou, whose Pure Concept of
Time
has been regressing the world repeatedly…and kill her.”

“That’s right.”

Menou nodded.

She had to kill Akari with her own hands before the other girl became a Human Error and ceased being Akari.

As an Executioner, that was the only thing Menou could do for her.

“I find that rather strange. You’ve come to the point where you can reach her. Do you not instead wish to save her? She is your friend, is she not?”

“Forgive me for answering a question with another question, but how exactly would I save her?”

There was a chance that saving Akari wasn’t entirely impossible. For Menou to kill her without permission, she would have to slip past Master Flare’s watchful eye. Rescuing Akari would be more difficult, but the basic approach wouldn’t be too different.

Menou didn’t intend to kill Akari just to make things easier for herself, though.

“There is no way to save an Otherworlder, is there?” she said.

Freeing Akari would be pointless and temporary. Once the Otherworlder became a Human Error, many would perish. So long as that girl lived, she would lose her memories and identity as Akari Tokitou.

More than any of that, however, Menou couldn’t allow herself to do it. Rescuing Akari for personal feelings was worthless.

“You might be surprised at the possibilities.” The Director smiled gently. “As I told you on the way here, your Master Flare once did everything in her power to help an Otherworlder, too.”

“Yes, and I’ve had no choice but to question whether I can trust anything you say ever since.”

“Ha-ha, I understand. Flare never was honest about her feelings.”

It wasn’t a question of whether the woman was honest or not. Menou looked warily at the Director as he laughed lightheartedly.

Undoubtedly, he and Flare shared some old connection. Yet Menou couldn’t believe that it had been a friendly one.

“She was such a charming young woman that even Flare cared for her. Why, her soul shone so brightly that even I couldn’t help but try to court her, in spite of my age.”

“…Poor thing.”

It wasn’t the Director for whom Menou was expressing pity. Menou’s sympathies were for this unknown Otherworlder whom this creepy older man had tried to woo.

“But Flare still killed her in the end. It was a terrible shame. At the time, I couldn’t understand what she was thinking… Perhaps it was similar to what’s going through your mind at this very moment.”

“…Maybe.”

“Even during the time I knew Flare, she constantly killed people who were precious to her. Each time made her stronger, a more perfect Executioner.” The way he spoke almost suggested he knew what was to follow. “This will be no exception to the pattern. Will you defeat Flare and become the same kind of Executioner she is, or will Flare defeat you and polish her skills as an Executioner? Personally, I suspect you will almost certainly be the one to die. Do you know why that is?”

“Because I can’t defeat my Master,” Menou stated plainly.

“That’s correct.” Kagarma nodded, looking satisfied. He picked up his cane and pointed it at Menou. “As far as I can tell, you are by no means weaker than Flare. Your skills in close combat are comparable, and given that you are younger, you should have some advantages over her as a woman past her prime.”

“You flatter me.”

“But you will probably fail nonetheless.”

He was right.

Menou was going to lose.

He didn’t even need to explain why. Plenty outranked Master Flare in sheer strength. Menou herself had defeated many an opponent stronger than her teacher on paper. Differences in strength might confer advantages or disadvantages, but they were never the deciding factor in a battle.

“You are exceptionally skilled, young Menou. You’ve emerged victorious against Archbishop Orwell and Pandæmonium’s pinky finger. You survived all manner of conflicts that would’ve easily crushed any ordinary priestess. But your old Master has a fatal advantage over you.”

“…”

“She knows your quick judgment all too well. What would normally be a boon for you will, in this case, be a weakness. I doubt you are fool enough not to realize how deadly that can be.”

Menou’s greatest virtue was her ability to adapt to any situation swiftly. Whether she chose to fight or run away, she could always formulate a clever plan to achieve her goals.

The main reason she could not defeat her Master, then, was internal. Menou simply did not believe she could win. Battling Master Flare meant Menou’s choices would be limited.

The Executioner understood this and still chose to infiltrate the holy land.

“What are you suggesting I should do, then?”

“Run away.”

How could Kagarma make such a statement after bringing Menou all this way?

Ridiculous. Hearing him out had been a waste of time. Menou stood.

“Hrmm? And where might you be headed?”

“For a walk and some reconnaissance.”

Menou had already made preparations before arriving in the holy land. As long as the strategy she’d set in motion went as intended, chaos would break out here before much longer. She would have to be familiar with the layout of the cathedral by then to make her move.

“Oh-ho.” There was an undisguisable note of curiosity in Kagarma’s voice. “You mean Akari Tokitou’s location? Quite an adorable girl, that one. Would you perhaps introduce me to her sometime? She is in an exceptionally fascinating position, even for a lost one.”

“No.”

Menou shook her head.

She already knew where Akari was without needing to look. The bespectacled priestess Hooseyard, who greeted them when they first arrived at the cathedral, had all but spelled it out. The north tower was in use because Akari was being held there under close watch.

Surely Master Flare already expected Menou was coming to kill Akari. At worst, she was sticking to Akari like glue because of it. While Menou had successfully penetrated the cathedral, her prospects of escape were slim.

She couldn’t afford to make a careless move now.

Since Akari’s Pure Concept of
Time
conjuring,
Regression
, could return her to before she died, the girl was effectively immortal. How would Master Flare kill Akari, then? That much was clear from the moment she brought Akari to the holy land.

Master Flare intended to use the Sword of Salt to slay Akari.

When Menou was young, Master Flare once took her to the land of salt. So she knew how to get to the Sword of Salt’s location.

The Dragon Gate.

The luminous door the Guiding train had passed through to bring her here was also known as a teleport conjuring circle. It used an ancient relic that could
Teleport
someone to any place with Guiding Force, bridging the distance between the holy land and the land of salt.

The best way to get there was to investigate how the glasses-wearing priestess Hooseyard prepared and controlled that process.

Clothes rustled from being folded.

It was around the time that Menou entered the holy land with Kagarma’s help. Far away, at a hot spring in the mountains, two girls were in the changing room of an inn.

Not long ago, the very same inn had dealt with all manner of minor scandals because the runaways Momo and Akari were staying there. This had reduced the number of guests so drastically that these girls had the place almost entirely to themselves.

One was wearing a nun’s habit, the other a kimono, giving them nothing visibly in common except for their approximate ages. The one in the kimono carried herself with the mannerisms of a well-bred young lady.

Manon Libelle.

This terrifying girl was working with Pandæmonium, the biggest taboo on the continent. She had just folded her obi and unraveled her flawless braid, and she was about to slip her kimono off her shoulders when she hesitated.

The girl with Manon in the changing room was, to her, a precious opportunity to make a friend her own age. They had been staying at the inn together for several days, so she decided this was the perfect time to get closer and worked up the courage to invite her to bathe together.

However, this was Manon’s first time bathing with anyone outside her immediate family.

“Er, how shall I phrase this…?” Manon’s cheeks turned pink, her kimono still only partway removed. “This sort of thing is rather embarrassing, I must admit.”

With her high-class upbringing, Manon had never been to anything like a public bathhouse. Her rearing as a proper young lady of the Noblesse left the girl with reservations about showing skin in front of others, even someone of the same sex. Although her sense of morals was unhinged by any standard, she was a maiden like any other in this respect.

“Is it?”

In stark contrast to Manon’s tinted cheeks, the other girl didn’t show the slightest shame in removing her nun’s habit.

She had wavy silver hair and sleepy-looking eyes. There was no questioning the beauty of the young woman disrobing with an air of relaxed elegance. Her most eye-catching element was attached to her right shoulder—a glimmering silver Guiding prosthetic.

The artificial limb moved in perfect harmony with her body because its Guiding Force was attached to her spirit. The girl’s false arm was not human-made, but given to her by one of the Four Major Human Errors, the Mechanical Society.

This other girl’s name was Sahara, a former nun who fell into taboo because of the Mechanical Society of the eastern Wild Frontier.

Her prosthetic moved as nimbly as a natural arm as she removed her underwear and tossed it into the basket.

“The monastery was all communal living, so this is normal for me.”

Manon and Sahara. Both girls had stained their hands with taboo and had a history with Menou. Shamelessly enough, after their battle against Menou and company, the pair of them had blithely extended their stay in the mountain hot spring town.

“Hurry up. I wanna get in the bath.”

As Manon wavered, Sahara reached out with her artificial arm and yanked on the other girl’s sleeve to hasten the disrobing process. It was more a show of poor manners than intimacy, and Manon hurriedly brought her hands over her chest.

“I-I’ll take it off myself, thank you very much! I don’t need any help.”

“Oh yeah? See you in there, then.”

Sahara pulled away from the flustered Manon rather than forcing the issue in spite of her protests. Manon sighed with relief; little did she know that behind Sahara’s unchanged expression, the girl was pleased with Manon’s reaction and had resolved to tease her further once they were in the bath.

As Sahara headed out to the open-air bath, the cool air greeted her skin. She nodded in satisfaction at the freeing feeling of the scenery and the heat of the bubbling hot spring.

“Fancy inns are the best.”

She would never have experienced this luxury as a nun. Washing herself off with the speed of one used to shared bathing, Sahara quickly sank into the hot water up to her shoulders.

The warmth spread delightfully through her body. As she let out a long sigh and relaxed for a while, Manon eventually entered after her. She had a bath towel wrapped around herself and a stiff expression on her face.

When her eyes fell on Sahara soaking in the open-air bath, her expression shifted to one of concern.

“Ms. Sahara…won’t your arm rust?”

“Nope.” Sahara flexed her silver Guiding prosthetic in the water. “Technically speaking, it’s not metal. So it can’t tarnish.”

“Is that so?”

Drawing closer to the bath, Manon prodded Sahara’s artificial arm curiously.

Sahara’s limb had been replaced with a prosthetic adhered to her soul with Guiding Force when the Mechanical Society, a Human Error on par with Pandæmonium, made up for the missing part and attached to her like a parasite. The Concept of Primary Colors could simplify the world, dismantle it, and recreate it with the three Primary Colors. The Primary Color Stones, the root of this phenomenon, were said to be living ore.

On the subject of Human Errors, Sahara thought of something else.

“…Hey, where’d Pandæmonium go?”

“She does tend to disappear from time to time. I never paid her absences much mind, since she always shows up when I call for her. Shall I call her now?”

“Ah, no thanks. I don’t really wanna talk to her.”

Pandæmonium.

The shadow of what was once an Otherworlder, she was one of the Four Major Human Errors, which had consumed the once-inhabited southern archipelago and left a permanent scar on the world.

She was also the source of the monsters that infested this world, a terrifying evil in the form of a little girl.

Manon was likely correct that there was no need to fret about her whereabouts. As the Pure Concept of
Evil
, distance meant nothing to her summoning abilities. She didn’t need to travel on foot. Sahara found the monstrous little girl disturbing, so she was grateful for her absence.

“What about the Director, then? I haven’t seen him in a while,” Sahara commented.

“Hmm? Ah, I suppose he is gone, too, isn’t he?” It had been several days since either last saw him, but evidently, Manon hadn’t noticed. She began washing herself with a bucket of hot water.

“I wasn’t too worried about it, because I prefer not to have him around. You should avoid getting involved with him, too, Ms. Sahara. He can be rather inappropriate.”

That seemed harsh, although not untrue.

Just talking to Kagarma for a short time left Sahara creeped out, so she understood what Manon meant. Why did they break him out of jail if that was the case?

It was odd, but Sahara wasn’t interested in the man enough to press the matter further.

“Ah, but now that you mention it…,” Manon began.

“Mm, what’s up?”

“No… I’m sure it’s nothing important.” Manon tapped a finger against her lips, as she often did when thinking. Her gentle features creased with her slight frown as she voiced a sneaking suspicion. “It’s just…one of my spare kimonos has been missing for the past few days.”

“…”

Sahara closed her eyes.

A pretty young girl’s clothes were missing, and the strange old Director along with them.

There was only one possible conclusion. Sahara opened her eyes and spoke firmly.

“Manon. When it comes time to kill the Director, let me know. I’ll help out for sure.”

“Certainly. I’ll be counting on your support!”

The two young maidens clasped hands. Sometimes, discovering a common enemy could strengthen the bonds between friends.

“Truthfully…” Manon laughed softly. “I don’t
really
believe the Director stole my kimono.”

“Really? I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“True, nor would I, but given the timing, it must have been Ms. Menou.”

Menou.

As soon as Manon spoke the name out loud, Sahara unconsciously touched her prosthetic arm with her left hand.

“…Shouldn’t we go after her? She’s gonna chase down Akari, isn’t she?”

“Well, as it happens, I was already planning on going to the holy land regardless of Ms. Menou. Although the information I gave her when we met here was admittedly meant to push her to that action… At any rate, once my little friend returns, I think we should set out, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

Her “little friend” probably referred to Pandæmonium. Apparently, Manon had some scheme of her own. Sahara, on the other hand, was much more impulsive. She didn’t know what Manon was plotting, but she didn’t get a bad feeling about it and decided to let it slide.

“How do you stand to pal around with Pandæmonium anyway?” she asked instead.

“I’m not sure what you mean… It’s fun,” Manon responded.

“…Uh-huh…”

Sahara carefully kept her feelings from seeping into her voice.

Manon was reluctant to show skin in front of a fellow female bather, yet she had no issue declaring that traveling with Pandæmonium and her ever-increasing body count was enjoyable. It was clear to Sahara that Manon’s emotions were twisted, no matter how serene her voice might be. She doubted anyone else in the world could genuinely enjoy being with Pandæmonium.

Thus, Sahara elected to try a different approach.

“I heard what happened in Libelle, but I don’t really understand what you were thinking.”

“Ah, my old hometown? I must admit, I’m ashamed of how haphazard my methods were at the time.”

Manon had spread monstrine, a drug that turned people into monsters, in the settlement where she was born and raised. In the end, she even sacrificed her blood relatives and turned herself into a Concept of Original Sin, becoming a demon. But when questioned about these horrific deeds, she only covered her face in a genuine show of sheepishness.

“I’m not inquiring about your methods… I mean your motives.”

Bring chaos to this world.

Bring carnage to this planet.

Such was the creed of the Human Error known as Pandæmonium, the child of Original Sin. Manon did not share that ideology, however.

“Why do you want to go to the other world so badly?”

“Ah, is that what you meant? Strictly speaking, it’s not that I wish to travel there… It’s just that I’m quite certain that what I want to reclaim must be there.”

Manon, who was born in this world, smiled so faintly that it was almost invisible in the steam.

“I can’t count how many times I heard the stories. My mother was constantly talking about her. You see, I have a younger older sister.”

“A younger…older sister?”

“That’s right.”

Manon grinned, not elaborating further.

That was why she was traveling with Pandæmonium and working for the little monster.

“The foundation of my very self can be nowhere else but there. I’m sure of it.”

Manon Libelle was here precisely because she knew stories of the past that everyone else, even Pandæmonium herself, had long since forgotten.

Naturally, Sahara possessed no knowledge of the mysterious Manon’s circumstances.

Manon didn’t explain any more than she felt necessary.

“What about yourself, Ms. Sahara? Why did you go to the Mechanical Society? I’ve heard you volunteered to venture into the eastern Wild Frontier. And it was there that you met Genom Cthulha and became taboo.”

“I did it ’cause I was pissed off. I don’t regret it one bit.”

“I understand. These things do happen from time to time.”

The two girls who had impulsively tarnished themselves with taboo now bonded over their questionable principles.

Manon finished washing herself off and gingerly sank into the bath. Noticing that the other young woman was uncertain of how to handle the distance between them, Sahara experimentally prodded her side with one toe. Manon giggled as if ticklish but didn’t protest.

“I would like to see the eastern Wild Frontier for myself one day. There’s a certain part of the Mechanical Society that’s friendly toward humans in a way, right?”

“If you avoid zones one and three, I guess. Out of the thirteen zones, I’d say the machine-tree area in zone eight isn’t too corrupted in spirit, and most of the Guiding guns come from there, too…”

As Manon and Sahara deepened their friendship and exchanged information while nude, there was a sudden splash of water.

The pair turned toward the source of the ripples.

“Phwaaah!”

A little girl in a white dress was gasping for breath. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

She had strangely elegant features for her age, and her dress sported three gaps in the front of it. The girl shook out her soaked black hair and beamed.

“Mmm, this water’s not bad. How are you, Manon?”

Pandæmonium.

Sahara stiffened at the sudden arrival. How had she gotten here? She’d clearly emerged from the water out of nowhere.

Manon seemed unsurprised and simply tapped Pandæmonium on the nose scoldingly.

“Now, now. It’s bad manners to wear clothes in the bath.”

“Mm, is it?”

“You wouldn’t want the water to get dirty. One must always wash off properly before entering.”

“Mm, but whenever I’m reborn, I become brand-new, so this dress is spotless. Doesn’t that mean it’s fine?”

“…I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

There were some cultures where one bathed while still dressed, so Manon couldn’t declare that it was never acceptable to wear clothes in the bath. She frowned thoughtfully.

Sahara watched the scene in disbelief.

Human Errors were universally feared. Pandæmonium, in particular, was the very source of the monsters that devoured humans. Manon was the only person who treated this tiny horror like an ordinary little girl.

Where did that fondness come from?

Sahara didn’t understand the urge to be kind to another in the first place. She saw others only as targets to be defeated and dragged down.