Once, I had heard a question like this.
‘What is a fake that cannot be distinguished from the real thing?’
It was a question posed by a monster wearing the guise of an old man. What was more, it was not even something I had heard firsthand, but a riddle passed on to me by my little sister.
Why had it suddenly come to mind?
The answer was simple.
Because I now found myself in a situation where I had to distinguish between the two.
My complicated gaze swept over the black-haired, golden-eyed girl crouching before me.
The trembling woman’s clothing was exceedingly peculiar, and across the entire continent, there was only one religious order whose clerical robes exposed that much skin.
The Dark Order.
Humanity’s archenemy, and my own sworn enemy.
In other words, she was someone it would not have been strange for me to strike down with the raised sword in my hand right then and there.
And yet, the reason I could not was simple.
“Why now, of all times…….”
Because the soul inside that body was my little sister.
Groaning, I had no choice but to slowly lower my sword.
If I killed that body like this, I had no idea what effect it might have on the soul trapped…