1.
Method,
or Method Acting.
An acting technique in which the actor immerses themselves completely in the thoughts and emotions of their character, performing as if they were the character in reality.
And that was—
【Stage 3 – <Method Acting> activated.】
【You are now <Ian Red>.】
The ultimate characteristic and effect of the <Acting> trait.
The moment Stage 3 manifested, the first change that struck me was sincerity.
Just a moment ago, I had regarded Asha as the <Hero>, merely a character in a story. But now, I saw her as Asha, the person herself.
‘And yet, I am both <Ian Red> and the possessor, still retaining my own memories.’
Asha’s past and future,
The sorrow depicted in various scenes,
The exhausted hero who ultimately met a bad ending.
Right now, I am the only person in this world who knows even a fragment of Asha’s past. The sole free priest who understands her pain.
Because only I know her sorrow, and only I can truly console her—
“May I have a moment?”
I—
“No, I shall take a moment.”
Ian Red
Approached Asha and, with a touch neither too hurried nor too slow, embraced her.
She remained expressionless, turning her head slightly as if to confirm my face. But at that moment, tears streamed down my eyes.
『“…Still, you must live.”』
『At the center of the burning village, a young girl murmured her father’s dying words, her face devoid of expression.』
Because Asha’s past was so unbearably tragic.
And.
『In a conclusion where neither the incompetent Empress nor the <Black Wolf> remained, Asha Mirabelle sat alone upon the bloodstained throne and murmured to herself.』
『“…If I had known it would end this way, I would have closed my eyes back in that village.”』
Because, if not for me, she would have inevitably faced that immense despair and emptiness.
Yet, I had not intended to cry.
I had only meant to perfect the character of <Ian Red> and gain Asha’s trust.
‘…But I can’t control it well.’
Method.
A technique in which the actor completely immerses themselves in their character’s thoughts and emotions, performing as if they were a real person.
The tears falling from my eyes,
The arms wrapping around Asha,
The sincere wish for her happiness—
None of these were planned actions. They were reflexive, as natural as pulling back a hand after touching something hot or closing one’s eyes when a fist flies toward one’s face.
‘When my emotions were stable, I had control, just like when playing <Black Wolf> or <Yellow Dragon>. But now that emotions are heightened, I keep getting swept away.’
It was as if the soul of <Ian Red>, a real person, had seeped into me—
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“…Don’t cry.”
—And was forcing me to act this way.
‘I have to control it.’
Right now, it was working in my favor.
But if <Method> ever activated while playing <Black Wolf> or <Yellow Dragon>, it could lead to catastrophe.
‘…I should step away first.’
I needed to control the surging emotions and reclaim authority over my body.
‘…There. I did it.’
The moment I mastered the technique of controlling Method through <Ian Red> and was about to step back—
Tap.
“…Aren’t you the one crying?”
Asha buried her face against my shoulder.
2.
It was strange.
Tap.
She had never done this before—burying her face into a man’s shoulder as if seeking relief.
‘…Why am I doing this?’
From the day her only home, Mirabelle, was burned to the ground.
Until the moment she became the Hero—
– Asha, my beautiful daughter. Never, ever trust anyone. Hide your emotions, and always discern what they truly want from you.
– Dad!!
– …Now go. Even in a world as cruel as this… you must still live.
She had never once forgotten her father’s dying words. She had followed them diligently.
“…I apologize for my disgraceful display.”
“It’s fine.”
“I will step away immediately.”
“No. Let’s stay like this for a while.”
Yet, why had she crumbled at a mere few words from this free priest and allowed herself to lean on him?
Even as an awkward silence passed, Asha did not answer.
Instead, she asked herself a question.
‘Why have I become so weak?’
The moment she asked, the answer came.
‘… Is it because of Hestia?’
While heading toward the Demon King’s Castle, she had received a message through carrier pigeon.
– Stay calm and listen, Vulcan.
– Huh? All of a sudden? Can’t we eat first? I’m starving.
– I’ll deliver the message first.
With her heart barely holding together, she forced herself to speak as she normally would.
– An unidentified group, <Black Wolf>, attacked the Gardner County. Casualties are still being counted. One confirmed death. The name of the deceased…
Hestia Gardner.
The moment that name was spoken, from then until now—
She had not stopped reliving every moment spent with that girl in her mind.
Hestia was a strong child.
Like many others, she had once dreamed of becoming a hero, but she faced the harsh reality of her innate limitations and was forced to accept them.
– The probability of my Awakening is extremely low. It’s said to be as difficult as finding a needle in the desert.
– Is that so.
– But I’m fine with that. The Hero, and my brother, will achieve what I cannot.
Even so, she said it was fine and cheered us on.
With her small, fragile fists clenched, she made a declaration.
– Of course, I won’t just sit idly by. I will do my very best in what I can do. And, so that the Hero can march forward without worry, I will protect the Empire well. This is…
…the promise I make to you, Hero.
Seeing the admiration and shyness in her brown eyes, Asha nodded and replied.
– I’ll trust you and wait.
– …!! Yes!! Yes, Hero!!
And so, only three months after we set out, she had become a strategist of the 1st Imperial Legion.
She rooted out internal enemies on behalf of the incompetent Empress, unmasked spies from foreign nations and the demons, and laid them bare before her.
That was at the six-month mark of our journey. And then, after four more months, reaching a total of ten months—
– Is that really true, Marin?
– Yeah!! I heard the citizens are dying because of the Empress’s tyranny!! Let’s just return for a bit and at least give her a warning?!
At that time, the <Hero Party> was debating whether to retreat upon hearing reports of the Empress’s tyranny.
– Asha! Hestia sent a letter!
– So?
– What do you mean, “so”?! This time, it’s not for me—it’s for you!
– Is that so.
A letter had arrived from Hestia.
– Read it separately.
– What? Let’s read it together! She’s my little sister too!
– Read. It. Separately.
– Hah! Fine! I won’t read it then!
The contents weren’t too different from what Gardner had previously reported.
『I am currently serving as a strategist for the 1st Legion…
A list of spies…
There is growing unrest among the citizens due to some imperial policies, but most issues have been addressed, and much of the dissatisfaction has subsided…』
However, at the end of the formal reports, there was a single sentence, written with a trembling hand, as if she had hesitated before writing it.
『You promised me, didn’t you? That I wouldn’t need to worry, that I would keep everything safe.』
Asha let out a small chuckle as she recalled the brown eyes filled with both admiration and shyness.
She had once despaired, saying Awakening was as impossible as finding a needle in the desert—but in the end, she had found her own needle.
Because of that, Asha let go of her worries.
– Have you finished reading?
– Yes. We are departing again for the Demon King’s Castle.
– Huh?! W-Wait! Weren’t we going to stop by the capital because of the Empress’s tyranny?!
– Canceled. The original objective takes priority.
The retreat was called off, and the march continued.
Two more months passed. A full year.
They crossed the lands of the demonic beasts and finally reached the territories of the nobles.
And then, the next day—
“…That was when the news of Hestia’s death arrived.”
Asha barely finished explaining before she bit down hard on her soft, pink lips.
If she had returned after reading the letter…
If she had listened to Marin and retreated sooner…
If she had properly pressured the Empress before setting out on the expedition…
And more than anything—
“If I hadn’t told Hestia to ‘trust and wait’…”
…Then that beautiful child, who resembled the soft colors of autumn, might still be alive.
“The misfortune stems from me. Once again, it’s a misfortune caused by me.”
It was agonizing.
Every choice she had made felt like a mistake.
Yet, her face remained expressionless, unable even to furrow her brows in grief. That body, which could not even reflect her sorrow, filled her with frustration.
“If there’s even a 1% chance that she’s alive… No, even the slightest possibility… I would do anything.”
The moment Asha spoke those words, still in her usual calm tone, while leaning against Ian’s shoulder—
“Then I shall return the letter first.”
“…Do so.”
Finally, Nahan—who had identified her emptiness—spoke with a serious expression.
“Lady Hestia Gardner. She may still be alive. No—she is surely alive.”
“…?”
“It may be hard to believe, but for a moment—”
Thud!
Nahan’s vision suddenly spun.
Before he could even register what had happened, his collar was seized, and Asha, her grip tight around his throat, murmured:
“Are you a fanatic?”
Her expression remained blank, but a chilling murderous intent seeped from her.
Even the killing intent of Ruby, which Nahan had experienced before, was nothing compared to this.
Yet, Nahan—or rather, <Ian Red>—remained calm, his face unshaken as he spoke.
“Though I am now a free priest, I have also been baptized by the Goddess. A priest who has received her baptism is granted <Divine Authority>.”
As Asha’s grip steadily tightened, not even giving him a chance to respond, Nahan continued.
“The <Authority> I was given allows me to distinguish between the dead and the living. When I hold an item belonging to someone, I can naturally perceive their state.”
Still maintaining his usual composure, he smiled gently, as if to reassure her, before delivering his final words.
“And just a moment ago—when you handed me Lady Hestia’s letter—I confirmed it.”
“…”
“The revelation I received was this: She is still alive.”
And as always, humans—
“…Is that true?”
—Open their hearts to those who fill their voids.
