The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent-Chapter 278

I managed to wrap up my conversation with Alice, but the real problem was that there were plenty of other people around who could make me feel just as uneasy.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

Even if they didn’t remember all the details of the time I rewound—or rather, even if they didn’t consciously recall everything—the current situation alone was enough to make things unbearably uncomfortable.

That’s right. I had been so focused on dealing with the immediate crisis that I hadn’t thought about what would come next.

But really, who in that situation would have had the time to think ahead? Even the Emperor had charged in without looking back, and I had been the one forced to face him head-on without any real preparation. How could I have afforded to think beyond the moment?

With the fake Alice before me, and Alice herself in a somber mood, I took a few steps back and surveyed my surroundings.

And that alone was enough for me to realize that I was nearly surrounded by people whose eyes met mine.

Of course, I wasn’t literally surrounded as if I were being cornered. It was more of a psychological sensation. Physically, everyone kept a bit of distance—it wasn’t a solid wall, at least not in the literal sense.

I quickly started calculating.

First, I narrowed down the people who had followed me here but wouldn’t make for uncomfortable conversation partners. The Sword Saint, Jennifer, and Carolyn seemed like safe options. Both Jennifer and Carolyn were on fairly good terms with me, and neither had ever suffered because of my abilities. The Sword Saint, in particular, seemed to be enjoying the situation, while Jennifer looked deeply lost in thought.

And then there was Carolyn—my homeroom teacher. Normally, a student-teacher relationship would feel somewhat restrictive, but in this case, it was perfect. At least it gave me a plausible excuse to check in with her later.

If I started a conversation with her, I might be able to keep it going for quite a while. And who would bother interrupting a student talking to their teacher?

That settled it. I resolved to head straight for the group of mentors and instructors.

I made the decision.

That was all I did.

In other words, I failed to follow through.

"...Fangryphon."

Hmm. That was a title I almost never heard.

Officially, my full name /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ was Sylvia Fangryphon. And yes, when I signed documents, I properly included Fangryphon in my signature.

But no one ever actually called me Fangryphon.

Not even acquaintances from before we became friends. Not even faculty members seeing me for the first time. No one felt the need to refer to me as Miss Fangryphon or Lady Fangryphon.

There was an enormous, intangible barrier against it.

Translating it into English, Fangryphon would be my last name, my family name... but more importantly, it was part of my name.

And yet, using Fangryphon alone as an address carried a weight that was simply too heavy.

I have no idea if people in England actually use titles like Miss Windsor, but in this world, I was addressed by my name far more often than by my family name. Most people called me Princess Sylvia or Princess Alice. And even that only happened when we needed to be distinguished from one another—otherwise, a single Your Highness was enough.

My friends obviously just called me by my first name. And since Alice and I were often together, calling either of us Fangryphon would only cause confusion. More importantly, Fangryphon wasn’t just the imperial family’s surname—it was also the name of the empire’s first Emperor. That made it even more awkward to say out loud.

But the fact that someone had chosen to call me Fangryphon right now meant that the name held particular significance in whatever conversation was about to unfold.

The mere sound of their voice made my stomach churn as if I were about to roll over in agony, and now they were using that name? The fact that I wasn’t already writhing on the floor was, in itself, a commendable feat.

Not that I felt particularly proud of it.

Moving with the stiffness of a broken wind-up doll, I slowly turned my head—only to find Sophia clutching my sleeve.

Her expression was... indescribable.

What kind of face would a devout believer make after witnessing the death of their god? Would they weep uncontrollably, like someone who had just lost their homeland? That would’ve been easier to deal with. Instead, Sophia’s eyes looked utterly dry, as if all emotion had been drained from them.

Not just dry—empty, like staring into a barren well. Eyes that should have always held a glistening trace of moisture were now hollow, and the sight of them only strengthened my already overwhelming urge to run away.

But running wouldn’t solve anything. The person standing before me wasn’t a character in a story; she was real.

"...Just calling me by my name would be enough."

Even though I knew it was an inappropriate response to the situation, I still said it—because I needed to put a stop to that Fangryphon nonsense, at the very least.

"..."

Sophia’s gaze shifted.

She was still sitting there in her bread-baking pose, looking up at the Gryphon towering over me.

Watching her stare at it so intently, I started seriously considering how I was supposed to clear up this misunderstanding.

That Gryphon wasn’t under my control. Just like when we arrived, it would probably fly off somewhere the moment it decided its task was done. Besides, Fangryphon didn’t refer to a single Gryphon—it was the name of an entire flock.

How many people in the modern era had actually ridden on the back of a Gryphon? Not many, I’d imagine. But that didn’t mean calling me Fangryphon made any sense.

Still, Sophia didn’t seem to be interested in arguing over that point.

"...Is the Goddess never coming back?"

...A pointless argument would have been preferable.

"..."

I carefully chose my words.

Back in middle school, there was a kid in my class who wanted to become a pastor. One day, I asked him, “So, are you planning to sleep with married women too?” When he told me his father was a pastor, I shot back with, “Then I guess your father does too.” I got punched in the face for that.

Religious people tend to be sensitive about these things.

"It’s true that I took measures to prevent it from happening."

I decided to just state the facts.

Sophia... At the start, she had been portrayed as a fanatical psychopath, but as the story progressed and her interactions with the protagonist deepened, she gradually got cleaned up. I had always found it frustrating how she was so neatly redeemed in just one installment, but looking back, it actually made sense.

She had been raised under the Holy Nation’s influence from childhood, learning to accept their teachings as the absolute truth. And then, out of nowhere, a force of pure evil emerged to oppose the goddess—of course, she would have been thrilled.

But before she could face that great evil firsthand, Sophia met Leo. Then she met me.

As a result, she became someone quite different from the character in the original story.

This Sophia wasn’t the Sophia from the novel. She was my friend. So rather than telling some half-baked lie, it was better to just be honest.

"You..."

Sophia was also choosing her words carefully.

"You... What exactly are you? What kind of connection do you have to the goddess?"

She probably already had her suspicions. There were things she had heard directly from me as well.

...That’s right. I had promised.

I had told her I would explain everything once it was all over.

"I was sent by that entity you call a goddess."

I spoke plainly.

I was well aware of the eyes on me. Not just from my own companions, but even from the imperial knights who had been bound and were now glancing in my direction.

But what was the point of hiding anything at this stage?

I had already ridden on the back of a Gryphon.

"I was also someone meant to be used as part of the goddess’s plan."

"Then why did you betray the goddess at the last moment?"

Sophia’s words might have sounded accusatory at first, but her voice was so level, so devoid of emotion, that there was no real sense of blame. It felt more like she was just stating facts, trying to confirm something rather than expressing resentment.

"..."

I closed my mouth for a moment.

How was I supposed to explain this?

When I first arrived in this world, I crafted a personality for myself. It was all to insert myself into the protagonist’s party. I’d say that was a success. After all, I did become a part of their group.

I opposed the Emperor to ensure a happy ending where everyone survived. That was also a success. In the end, no one died.

But the reason I overturned the goddess’s plans...

...was because I wanted to be part of that happy ending, too.

...

Was this really a happy ending?

I gazed silently at the believer who had lost her god.

Would Sophia be able to understand my answer?

It didn’t matter. I had promised to answer.

"Because I wanted to be with all of you."

So I told her.