A great tree looms deep in the forest. Next to it sits a lone house, one that looks like it’s been part of the tree since it first sprouted—the workshop of Hecate Luluarus, the witch. “Woof, woof. (Wow, that’s cool. High fantasy much?)” “What does that mean?” giggles Hecate, having invited us inside. “Arwf, arwf. (I’ve always kind of had a thing for houses fused into trees, like this one.)” I’m a guy, after all, despite how I look. Who can blame me? I like the homes the elves live in, too; they take advantage of the Worldtree’s trunk, incorporating their homes into it kind of like secret tree houses. But Hecate’s workshop is older than any of theirs by eons, and the tree’s branches reach all the way inside it. “Arwf. (This place is really calming for some reason.)” Maybe it’s the leaves growing straight out of the ceiling? I can totally feel the negative ions. “Normally, being invited into a witch’s house is cause for caution.” “Arwf? (It is?)” “Mm-hmm. A witch’s workshop is where she is most powerful. They’re filled with traps and curses. The moment you set foot inside, you’ve essentially entered my stomach.” “Arf… (I’m in Hecate’s belly…? That explains the maternal aura I’m feeling.)” “…Sometimes I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Routa.” That’s impossible! The desire to revert to babyhood upon feeling this is fundamental to the entire human race, isn’t it? “Squeak… (As always, I don’t know what you’re getting at, but…)” “Mewl. (One thing’s for sure: It’s definitely something really creepy!)” “Woof, woof! (It’s not creepy! It’s a very natural reaction to have!)” I wish you’d consider how much better this is—I could be complaining about how much I want to go back to the young lady, right now. “Squeal, squeal. (Your mystery doth make thee all the more wonderful, my lifelong companion.)” Who are you calling your lifelong companion? Turning around, I see a golden-furred feline creature quietly walking in. That would be the war demon, king of all beasts, Behemoth, who has at some point decided to make me her lifelong companion. Amazingly, she was—according to Hecate—the strongest magical beast in the entire Demon Lord’s army. “Squeal, squeal. (That I am no longer, for I have entrusted all my powers unto that witch. Now I am naught but a single beast who loveth thou dearly.)” Gee, that’s just great. It wasn’t enough to have a pet cat and mouse doing the exact same thing to me, was it? Having one more just makes things harder. “Squeak! (Who are you calling a mouse?! I am the proud princess of the dragons, Lenowyrm!)” “Meow! (And I’m Nahura! This book isn’t big enough for two cats!)” “Squeal, squeal. (Ah, thou art already in possession of two mistresses? That is well, that is well. That is how males should be.)” “S-squeak! (Why, you little…! Even your speech pattern is an imitation of my own! You’re a counterfeit! A sham!)” “Squeal, squeal. (What? Dost thou suggest that thou somehow resemblest me? Absurd. Lay thine eyes upon my splendiferous fur, golden as the sun! It is the perfect match for Routa’s coat, which is silvery as the moon.)” “Squeak! (I’m not referring to our appearances! Being able to grow fur doesn’t make one great! I’m also great, you know—I am! And eventually my appearance will change into one my beloved favors!)” “Mrow, mrow! (And if we’re talking about appearances, I’m the one you’re overlapping with, you cheeky little newcomer! Your fluffy, golden fur makes me jealous! Are you trying to pick a fight with shorthairs?!)” “Arf. (Your true feelings are coming out. So it’s just one big circle of envy, huh?)” Also, I’m not a furry. None of you have a shot with me anyway. I’m going to live my whole life as the young lady’s puppy, getting petted and coddled, eating delicious food, and sleeping as much as I want. You’d have to at least get into a position where you could provide for me. Then we’ll talk. “Why don’t you all take a seat and wait a moment?” Hecate leads us to a large wooden table and leaves us there. She told us to seat ourselves, but none of us need chairs. “Arf, arf. (Heh, I’m used to stretching out on the floor by now.)” It’s been almost a year since I was reborn as Fenrir—er, rather, as a dog. I’ve already forgotten how to sit in a chair. “Squeak. (And I doubt any chairs would be able to support your weight.)” “Mew! (I can see it now: all the chair legs snapping right in half!)” Len and Nahura climb up on my back after I lie down. And yet they get on top of me like it’s natural… “Squeal, squeal? (Ah! Having mistresses ride upon one’s back is the latest and most popular way to have them serve you, is it?)” It’s not a fad and they’re not my mistresses. “Squeal. (In that case, pray excuse my own rudeness as I join them…)” If you need to excuse yourself, just don’t. Well, she gets up on my back to get some height, and her face comes right up above the table. Fine, I guess I’ll let you use my back this one time. I just hope you’re grateful! “Sorry for the wait!” Hecate has returned. A tray floats in the air behind her with a teapot and cups on it. The levitating tea set, moving in accordance with Hecate’s fingertips, settles itself in front of us. “Woof, woof. (You always have the handiest magic.)” Nahura uses magic, too, but Hecate does it with more practiced movements. The cups are arranged with precision before the teapot pours black tea into them. “Arwf! (That smells good!)” I take in the sweet, refreshing scent that you can only get from herbal teas. “Hee-hee. It was actually quite difficult to make.” After putting her elbow on the table and taking a seat, Hecate waggles her finger again. A large plate comes flying out of the back room toward us, then it places itself right in the center of the table. This fragrant scent… My head jerks up. “Arwwwf! (It’s pie!)” I’ve eaten Hecate’s homemade pie once before; it was filled to the brim with raspberries, with a perfect balance between tartness and sweetness. And most of all, the flakiness of the crust was to die for. “Arwf, arwf?! (What kind of pie is it this time?! What flavor?!)” “Hee-hee. Why not take a guess?” A wooden knife cuts into the big pie, crunching through the crust. The piping-hot steam wafts over to my nose, and the faint acidity combined with the robustly sweet smell clues me in immediately. I shout out the answer. “Arwf! (Apple pie!)” Apple pie. The pie of pies. The king of them all. I can say one thing for sure—you can’t think of pie without apple pie coming to mind. “And for getting it right, you get two slices.” “Arwf! (Yes!)” And I can have seconds, too, right? Naturally? The pie is set down, having been cut and sectioned onto a small plate, and the fruit juices come wafting up from the open sides of the slices. “Squeak. (Oh, this smells quite good.)” “Squeal, squeal… (This is my first time eating this confection known as ‘pie.’ My heart veritably poundeth. Though it poundeth significantly less than it did when I first met Routa, my soul mate…)” I’d rather that have been backward. Just fall in love with apple pie instead. Please. “Mew… (I’ll admit it’s delicious, but I’m a little tired after all those practice pies she made me taste-test…)” “Oh, did you say something?” “Meow! (Um, n-no, nothing at all!)” Still haven’t fixed that habit of always saying a little too much, huh? More importantly, it’s time for apple pie. “Sniff, sniff. (Can I eat it? Can I?)” Seeing my tail wagging back and forth, Hecate giggles. “Please, be my guest.” “Arwf! (Don’t have to tell me twice!)” I waste no time chomping into the apple pie. Even this extra-large-sized pie slice fits into my huge mouth in one bite. “Arwf?! (Why… Why, this is…?!)” So flaky—so incredibly flaky! The raspberry pie I ate the first time was crisp and flaky, too, even when cold. It was plenty delicious in its own right, but this fresh-out-of-the-oven flakiness is on another level. It’s way past flaky: it’s super-flaky. No, ascended beyond super-flaky. The crust has so many layers, and every time my teeth crunch through them, it leaves behind a satisfying feel in my mouth. And these apples locked away inside the pastry—having been cooked, the flesh of the fruit has softened, the sourness is gone, and as soon as I bite into it, the pure juices burst out. It’s amazing. But that’s not all. Underneath the thick layer of apples is a sweet, smooth cream on the bottom. I can’t think of a stronger complement for apples to have. A spectacular debut for this custard cream, and all the eggs used for it. Its rich sweetness goes perfectly with the apples’ refreshing juices, creating an altogether unmatched flavor. “Arwf, arwf!! (It’s so good! How is it so good?!)” It tastes so amazing I feel like I’m gonna faint………… No. I can’t. I can’t faint now. Not until I’ve eaten all of this apple pie, at least! “…Well, I hope you at least wait until you’ve heard what I have to say,” says Hecate, her face mildly appalled. “Arwf? (There was something to talk about?)” With the second slice of pie in my mouth, having already slurped up the first, I tilt my head in confusion. “Squeak… (You’ve already forgotten…)” “Mew… (Routa, your memory gets worse by the day…)” “Squeal, squeal. (Thou art still wonderful in thy foolishness, Routa.)” Don’t look at me with those eyes. “Arf, grf. (Munch, munch. No, wait, I remember. I came to ask about my lady’s illness.)” Lady Mary should have gotten healthy after taking the medicine made from that wyrmnil. But recently, she’d had a mild fever. I was worried, so I decided I’d ask Hecate about it. But then Hecate called me to her instead, and no sooner had she brought me here than Behemoth here showed up. And no sooner did Behemoth show up than she turned into a cat, and then Hecate invited us in to explain everything. That’s how we ended up enjoying this apple pie. “Arwf, arwf. (See? I remember. Don’t treat me like a senile old man.)” Though I do get the feeling I’ve been mindless in my enjoyment of my pet life for a little too long now, and my brain is starting to melt. How could I possibly get senile after only a little over half a year since being born? “In that case, you can keep eating while you listen.” Hecate takes a sip of black tea, then begins quietly. “Firstly… Yes, I’ll be going to give Mary medicine for her fever after this, and I think it will go down right away.” I see—that’s a relief. So it’s not that the medicine itself lost its effects. If she can take more medicine for a fever to cure it, I guess it’s not that much to worry about. “Squeak. (If the latrine grass stops working, I will let her drink my urine, so there is no need to worry. It should be much more effective than that measly grass.)” “Woof, woof. (Look, seriously, stop messing around.)” Why would I make the young lady drink mouse piss? “Squeak! (I am not messing around! A dragon’s urine is famed for its valuable and miraculous medicinal effects! Even royalty has desired it in pursuit of immortality since times immemorial!)” “Woof, woof! (Mixing it into a medicine is one thing, but you were trying to get her to drink it directly!)” That would be so incredibly rude to her. I have to stop this at all costs. “Squeak… (I spoke out of kindness… Why can you not realize how grateful she should be for it…?)” If there’s anything I can say in response to her mutterings, it’s that we have cultural differences. Yes, that’s the only thing. “May I continue?” “Arwf. (Oops, yeah. Go ahead.)” Even though our conversations always veer off course, this does involve the young lady’s illness. We should listen seriously. “Mary’s fever will go down for a time, but after a while, it will start to come back up again.” “Arwf, arwf? (Can’t she just take more medicine when that happens?)” If she only has to take it once every six months, it won’t put much stress on her physically. “The next time it will flare up is a month from now.” “Arf? (Huh? But she held out for six months last time.)” “And the time after that will be one week—and then one day. In the end, taking the medicine won’t be enough to keep the fever from rising.” “A-arwf, arwf?! (Wait—wait, hold on! That’s really bad, isn’t it?)” Would it really lose effectiveness that quickly? Don’t you have a new medicine she can use? “There’s no point in medicating her anymore. Mary’s fevers aren’t symptoms of an illness.” They’re not? What does that mean? Isn’t that why you’re filling the role of her doctor and checking up on her? “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Mary’s body.” “Arwf? (Wait, then why does she keep getting fevers?)” If she’s healthy, she shouldn’t be getting any symptoms as all, should she? “Let me go in order,” says Hecate, taking a sip of tea. “Mary’s family, the Faulks family, has a very long history.” Well, they’re nobility. Makes sense that their history would go back pretty far. “For a long time, the Faulks family has had just one responsibility.” “Arwf? (A responsibility?)” “Yes—an important one. The women have passed it down from generation to generation.” The women? Come to think of it, Papa married into the family, didn’t he? Is their clan matrilineal? “The first time Mary had a fever was three years after inheriting that responsibility. And it was also three years after her mother, Marianna, passed away.” She mentioned that her mother died when she was little. Does that have something to do with the responsibility Hecate is talking about? “For a long, long time, the Faulks family has sacrificed itself to uphold its duty.” “Squeak. (This is so roundabout. We’ll get nowhere unless you say what this duty is.)” says Len, hurriedly munching on what’s left of her pie. “I suppose. It isn’t something I really want to talk about, but…” Hecate’s eyes darkened. “That which is undermining the Faulks family—Mary’s body—is…” That which is? Quit being all high and mighty and just say it already. “The Demon Lord’s seal.” Hmm. I see. The Demon Lord’s seal, eh? I get it. Right. I understand. “A-arwf?! (Wait, the Demon Lord’s seal?!)” I spit out the pie I’d been loudly chewing. What does that mean?! I thought we were talking about her illness—but now this crazy Demon Lord person suddenly came up! Is Lady Mary sealing the Demon Lord?! “Mary isn’t aware of it. I haven’t told her. But it’s true—within that girl’s body is the key to sealing the Demon Lord.” I don’t follow. Lady Mary is just a regular person. Why are we suddenly talking about the Demon Lord’s seal? “Do you know how the Demon Lord tried to destroy the world one thousand years ago?” “Woof. (Yeah, Lady Mary reads to me about it all the time.)” The legend of the hero Routa is her favorite book. She likes it so much that she named me after that hero. She’s read it to me so many times that I have the whole thing memorized. The fairy tale is all about how the hero Routa, along with his companions, defeat the five generals—the Demon Lord’s subordinates—and in the end, destroy the Demon Lord and save the world. “Not all of it is made up. It’s based on real events.” Seriously? Well, the Demon Lord’s generals have been resurfacing in this generation, after all. There’s proof enough of it on my back right now, eating pie. “But that fairy tale doesn’t have the same ending as what really happened. The hero and the others couldn’t defeat the Demon Lord. The Demon Lord was too fearsome, too powerful.” “Squeak. (You speak as though you saw it personally.)” “That’s because I did.” “Arwf?! (What?! Hecate, you were there at the time?!)” “Indeed, I was. Are you surprised?” Well, of course I am! Someone straight out of a fairy tale is right in front of me. Actually, does that make her one of the heroes in the story? “I’m not all that heroic, but yes. I couldn’t protect the friends I cared so much about, either. I’m a fool of a witch,” says Hecate self-deprecatingly. “Our power wasn’t enough to defeat the Demon Lord. The only option we had was for the Hero to use her body to seal him away. But that seal became a terrible burden for the Hero to bear.” Is Hecate recalling actual memories from back then? “At most, she would live to be thirty. The first Hero had a child five years after the seal, then passed away.” So the Hero was a woman, then, to have given birth to a child. “Yes: Eilene Faulks. The most precious friend in the world to me. To atone for not being able to save her, I vowed to watch over her children and grandchildren and maintain the seal.” After that, she said, she would teach all the seals of the Faulks family their duty, living only to preserve their bodies and the seal. For a thousand years—for the whole time. A child would be born, and Hecate would be entrusted with that child and the seal both; and as the child grew and loved her like a mother, she had to watch that child grow weaker and weaker every day under the burden of the curse. And then the child, weakened by the curse, would bear a daughter, and entrust the seal to that daughter, before passing away herself. Hecate had repeated that process for an entire millennium. “But now it, too, has reached its limit.” The seal’s limit. It seems it’s come during Lady Mary’s generation. “The seal would have lasted another ten years, but it is about to be undone. Wyrmnil can only lower her fevers and lighten the burden on her. The spell of the seal is about to be undone.” “A-arf? (Wh-what’ll happen when it’s undone?)” “She’ll die. And not only Mary—all living creatures in this world will be obliterated.” “……” This…this is a little too heavy. You made the taste of the apple pie go away. “A-arf? (I-isn’t there some way to fix it?)” I couldn’t help but ask the question, even though I knew there would be nothing of the sort. “There is.” “Arwf?! (So there is, then?!)” Why didn’t you say that first?! You had me seriously scared! “But your help will be indispensable, Routa.” “Arf? (My help?)” My only merit is my cuteness. How would I be able to solve a major problem related to the Demon Lord? Wouldn’t common sense say it’s impossible? “Squeak. (Common sense would say that if you can’t solve the problem, then no one can.)” “Mew. (I really think you should just give up and admit that you’re Fenrir, and you’re the strongest.)” “Squeal, squee! (Indeed. And I wish thou wouldst admit that thou art my lifelong companion as well!)” Not yet. I’m not giving up just yet. If I admit that, then that ruins the possibility that I really am just a cute puppy dog who happens to be on the big side. “Mew. (That possibility never existed from the start.)” “Arwf! (Shut up! There must be a few tiny particles of that possibility somewhere around here!)” “Squeak…? (Does it not make you sad to say that…?)” N-no, it doesn’t at all! I’m an adorable pet puppy dog! Even if nobody else understands me, my lady always will. “Arf, arf! (And if she’s in a bind, then it falls to me—her pet—to rescue her!)” If possible, though, I’d rather heal her with my fluffy, lovable body. “You’ll fight this tooth and claw, won’t you?” “Arwf… (Yeah…)” “Arf, arf. (Well, if we’re going to do it, we should get it over with.)” “So, you’ll do it?” asks Hecate, peering into my eyes for confirmation. “Arwf, arwf. (It doesn’t matter if I don’t want to, does it? If I don’t, the world gets destroyed.)” That wouldn’t be good. It would be really bad. It’s not just the young lady—there are a lot of people in this world who mean a lot to me. If I need to protect them, then yeah, I’ll lend them a helping paw. “Arf, arf? (Actually, if the world gets destroyed, that means my pet life of eating and sleeping would be ruined anyway, wouldn’t it?)” That is the one thing I will absolutely have to prevent. I need the young lady to live a long life and keep looking after me forever. “Squeak. (You are selfish to the end.)” “Mewl. (That’s so like you, Routa.)” “Squeak, squeak. (Thou art wonderful in that way as well, Routa.)” Would you stop butting in whenever you want? You three will probably be pitching in, too, you know. “Arf, arf. (Anyway, what exactly do I have to do? I can’t defeat the Demon Lord after he’s unsealed, right? It would be too late then.)” Otherwise, we would just need to undo the seal burdening her body right now. But Hecate hasn’t done that, which means that breaking the seal wouldn’t lead to resolving the problem. “Mewl… (Routa just said something smart…)” See? You’re changing the topic again. “You’re right, Routa. We won’t be undoing the Demon Lord’s seal. But we can’t defeat the Demon Lord while sealed.” Wait, isn’t this all counterintuitive, then? How are we supposed to beat the thing in that case? “I’ll have you go to the past and defeat the Demon Lord.” “A-arwf? (G-go to the past?)” “Yes. You’ll defeat the Demon Lord before the sealing, one thousand years ago.” Wait, wait, wait, wait. You’re talking about time travel like it’s so simple, but I’m no time machine. “Do you know what school of magic I specialize in?” Well, of course. You make things float, you instantly warp things to where they want to go— “And the other is space-time magic.” “Arwf, arwf? (Space-time magic—so you can make time go faster or slower?)” I think back to when Hecate used her magic in the past. She healed the Worldtree in the elves’ village after it had been smashed up and burned, almost like she’d been turning back time. “Squeak. (Impossible. Space-time magic isn’t a handy tool to be used on a whim.)” Len, the ageless meathead, climbs up onto my head. “Squeak, squee-squeak. (Simply turning back time for a few hours is a monumental feat, but one thousand years? Ridiculous. Even if you could construct such a spell, it would take an incredible amount of time simply to inscribe the magic circle—to say nothing of your mana, which would be entirely lacking. It is an utterly impractical proposition.)” “Perhaps. But I’ve had plenty of time. Did you think I’d only come up with this plan in the last day or so?” “Squeak? (What?)” “It took me all of one thousand years—to think of a way to resolve the two problems: the magic circle, and the mana. I wonder if Routa remembers?” “Arf? (Remember what? Don’t expect too much from my memory.)” “You already know that I was the one who awakened the Demon Lord’s generals, don’t you?” Well, she did resurrect Behemoth, who is right in front of me. She probably revived all the other ones, too. Though I have no idea why. “Actually, it didn’t begin with the Demon Lord’s forces—but with that waterfall.” The waterfall? You mean the one Len was living in? It’s full of holes now, and collapsed, since I fired too many of my barf beams. And since my magical battle with Len made some kind of mana puddle or whatever, the guild felt it was abnormal and dispatched adventurers there. We managed to trick them and get them to go home, but just as we learned the problem had reached the guild, Hecate was at the waterfall for some reason. She’d drawn this super-complicated magic circle and blown away all the mana in the area for us. “Arf? (Wait, was that…?)” “That’s right. It was the first step in inscribing the magic circle to go to the past.” As Hecate watched over the Faulks family, she realized that the seal would eventually reach its limit. So she’d evidently been constructing the magic circle over one thousand years, all to return to the past. She’d only finished it just recently, and now, she says, all she has to do is transcribe it with her staff as the medium. “The issue was the vast amount of mana that the magic circle needs for its foundation.” So the mana buildup was a piece of it, and a perfect one at that? “Arf, arf? (Then why did you revive the Demon Lord’s generals one at a time?)” “Because it would not only decrease the burden of the seal on Mary, but I also wanted to use them as a source of mana. After all, one at a time even I could have handled them.” Is that why they only showed up one by one? Wait—she can beat them one-on-one, too? Wow, doesn’t that make her super-strong? I was the one who ended up fighting, but maybe Hecate originally intended to carry out this plan by herself. Meaning I was a completely uncalculated occurrence to her. “At first, I planned on taking your mana, too, Routa.” Wait, for real? “Fenrir, King of the Fen Wolves—such an incredibly powerful monster. It’s only natural I’d be cautious around you.” Makes sense. She’d known my identity right from the start, after all. “But when I saw how ready you were to go get the wyrmnil for Mary’s sake, I changed my mind. And that wasn’t all. You saved all sorts of other people many times, too. Something about you tells me that if I trust you with this, in the end, you’ll pull through.” Actually, I’d rather you not expect so much from me. The only thing I’m ever thinking about is how to protect own my pampered pooch life. I didn’t intend to save people, anyway. They just got saved on their own in the end. And besides, it’s all because of this Fenrir power—I’m not much without that. “Arwf…? (Hmm…?)” It strikes me, thinking about my Fenrir power, that if Hecate had stolen my mana like she’d planned to, wouldn’t I not be Fenrir anymore…? I would have lost my power like the other generals, and seriously, actually could have turned into a cute little puppy dog, right…? No. It’s too late for that now. Hecate! Change me into a fluffy little puppy! “I don’t want to.” You don’t want to, huh? Figures… “I’ve already decided to bet on you, Routa.” Hecate smiles mischievously. I’d rather you not push such a weighty responsibility onto a mere pet. Still, though, this is for my lady’s sake. As her beloved dog, I’ll have to do whatever I can. Besides, if the Demon Lord revives, everything is over. I don’t have the choice not to do this. But even so… “Arwf…! (Ahh, what a pain… Such a paaaain!)” “Squeak. (But you’ll do it, yes? You always do.)” “Mewl. (Routa always says he doesn’t want to, and then he goes and does it anyway.)” “Squeal, squee. (Such a caring attitude—how wonderful. I cannot help but fall in love with thee over and over again.)” Oh, quit that. Flattery won’t get you anywhere. Also, please stop falling in love with me. “I’m so glad you accept, Routa. Because in the worst-case scenario, you might defeat the Demon Lord a thousand years ago and not be able to come back.” “Arwf? (Wait, what? You didn’t tell me that!)” Withholding information? That’s cheating! What about safety? Can you guarantee I’ll be safe?! Shouldn’t my safe return be the primary objective?! “Hmm, I wonder?” “Arwf?! (Hey! Would you give me a clear answer already?!)” I crawl over to Hecate’s feet and start nuzzling up against them. “Meow. (It’s very like Routa to be a no-good person in these situations.)” “Squeal. (My, my. Business as usual, but still quite unsatisfactory. Thou art wonderful even in thy lamentations.)” Would you guys stop saying whatever you want? You’re definitely gonna get wrapped up in all this. “Woof, woof? (Speaking of which, am I the only one going to the past?)” “Well, I’d originally planned for you to go alone. But I have a considerable excess of mana thanks to the efforts of each of you, so I think you’ll be able to take a few more along.” I see. That means Len and Nahura are coming for sure. “Squeal! (I shall come, too, of course! I cannot be parted from my lifelong companion!)” “Unfortunately, Behemoth will need to stay behind.” “Squeal?! (Why is that?! Dost thou claim I lack the strength?!)” Lack the strength? Yeah, I suppose you do. All your power was already converted into mana so that we could go to the past. “I need you, along with the other four generals, to support the magic circle, so I can’t have you moving out of the present time.” “Squeeee. (Urgh. If thou hast a role for me to play, I shall concede…)” That brawny golden lion form would have helped in battle, but bringing her like this will only add to the annoying noise on the way there. “Squeak, squeak. (Yes, that’s right. Be a good little newcomer and stay here.)” “Squeal, squeal. (I suppose it shan’t be a bother to wait here for my lifelong companion.)” Who is this kid? She’s so strong! “Squeal, squeal! (Shouldst thou return safe, we shall hold a wedding!)” I respectfully decline. “Squeak, squeak! (I have been silent too long, you cheeky newcomer! You can become my beloved’s wife only after I have!)” Uh, no, not even after you. As Annoyance #1 squeaks away, she jumps on Annoyance #2. And then #1 is knocked down by #2’s front legs and falls over. “S-squeak! (S-stop this!)” “Squeal, squeal. (And now I am his lawful wife. And thou art his second.)” “Squeak! (I will not acknowledge this!)” If Len went back to being a dragon instead of a mouse, I think she’d be stronger than Behemoth, but she’s been in her mouse form for too long—I get the feeling she’s forgotten she’s actually a dragon. “Arf, arf. (Stop fighting up there. That’s my back, you know.)” The conversation got sidetracked for the…how many times does this make it? “I’ll let you decide who you’ll take with you. There’s still a little time before you set off, so choose carefully.” You want me to choose? Well, I guess I’ll ask some acquaintances. Hecate’s explanation meeting—which was more like a tea party—ends, and we decide to head back to the mansion. “Gulp, gulp…” “Okay, it’s all gone now.” Lady Mary downs the liquid medicine Hecate handed her. “Ugh… It’s bitter!” She scrunches up her face. Seems good medicine is always bitter. “You did well, so you can have this.” Hecate tosses a small, round ball into the young lady’s mouth. “Mm! It’s sweet!” “It’s a candy made from violet petals.” It must be really good, because Lady Mary is happily rolling it around in her mouth. The way her cheek pokes out like that is adorable. “Woof, woof! (Me too! I want one, too!)” I stick out my tongue and beg Hecate. Nobody else is here to side with me. Len is asleep, and Nahura and Behemoth are at Hecate’s house. So this candy belongs to me alone. Give it to me. Not just one—you can feel free to dump that entire bag into my mouth. “This is only a reward for little boys and girls who take their bitter medicine. Would you like some, too, Routa?” “Arwf! (That’s gonna be a big no-thank-you from me!)” I don’t need medicine, but I do want the candy. I’d appreciate it if you understood my canine heart. “Dr. Hecate, could you give one to Routa, too?” “A-arwf! (L-Lady Mary!)” You’re so nice to me, Lady Mary! I love you! “Oh, Mary, you really do spoil Routa, don’t you?” says Hecate, giving me a piece of candy as well. Inside the light violet orb are dark violet flower petals. It’s really pretty. “Arwf! (Well, I prefer flavor to presentation anyway!)” I wrap my tongue around the candy and bring it into my mouth, tasting it. “Arwf! (It’s sweet!)” The sweetness itself isn’t that intense, but the distinct scent of violets goes up through my mouth and into my nose. It’s a strong scent, like perfume, and yet it’s refreshing, not leaving a taste in your mouth. This would definitely be a good thing to cleanse your palate after the bitter liquid medicine. I have to hand it to Hecate—she really puts a lot of thought into what she makes. But as I’m drafting my review of the candy, it melts away in my mouth. “Arwf…? (Could I maybe have another…?)” I peer at her with upturned eyes, but Hecate just gives an appalled sigh. “You’re getting in the way of my examination, so I’m going to need you to leave now.” “A-arwf… (W-wait, I was just kidding. Sorry. I won’t get in the way anymore, so…)” I rest my head on Lady Mary’s belly, indicating with my posture that I firmly refuse to vacate the room. “A-anyway, Doctor, Mary’s symptoms—my daughter’s symptoms, are they—?!” Speaking up from behind Hecate is Papa, always the worrywart. “She’ll be fine. The medicine will take effect right away, so her fever should go down by tomorrow morning.” “Oh, thank goodness…” Papa gives a sigh of relief. “Father, you’re always so overdramatic. It’s just a little fever.” “Yes, but still…” Papa is normally a dandy gentleman, but he gets really soft when it comes to Lady Mary. Just because he really cares about her, of course. “Okay, okay, let’s all let her rest for the remainder of the day.” Hecate claps her hands and tries to chase Papa and me out. “Mrr. I’ve been sleeping so long. I’m not sleepy anymore.” “No being selfish. I’ll come to check up on you again tomorrow.” “Heh-heh. I did it!” Lady Mary suddenly smiles as Hecate runs a hand through her hair. They really do look like mother and daughter when I see them like this. And she is a descendant of Hecate’s best friend. She’s been with generations of Faulks family heads, too, so it makes sense it would be an adorable sight. To be perfectly frank, a witch as amazing as Hecate looking after the Faulks family, though they are frontier nobles, always struck me as strange. Now that she’s told me the reason, I can totally understand the love she has for them. “I’ll leave the rest in your hands.” “““Yes, Lady Hecate.””” After entrusting Lady Mary’s care to the maids, she leaves the room with us. “Starting tomorrow, you can have her return to her usual lifestyle, so please try not to worry too much and get some sleep, Gandolf.” “Thank you so much, Dr. Hecate. Without you, Mary would… Mary would be… Ohh…” “There, there. Don’t cry. I do so wish I could have let Marianna live a long life as well. I’ve put you through a lot of pain…” “No! My wife—Marianna, she was always so thankful for you. And apologetic… Sorry that she couldn’t be here forever… I don’t know what she meant by those words, but I’m sure Marianna—” “Please, don’t say any more.” Hecate puts a finger to Papa’s lips as he tears up, making a forlorn expression. Papa must not know about Hecate’s past and the secret of the seal of the Faulks family. He wouldn’t have any way to resolve it if he did; it would just make him suffer. He seems to have put a lot of money and time into searching for the cure to Lady Mary’s illness, when in actuality, that cure would have to heal her body tormented by the seal, rather than fixing a physical illness. If he knew the truth, he would doubtlessly do anything to try and find a way to save her. And even with the witch Hecate’s power, returning to the past and redoing things was the only possible solution. Papa would struggle and suffer and eventually ruin himself. I suppose staying quiet about some things is its own kindness. After seeing Papa off, Hecate walks to the mansion’s exit. “Woof, woof? (Lady Mary will be okay for a little while, right?)” “Yes. She shouldn’t have a problem for the next month, at least.” So basically, if I can go back to the past and defeat the Demon Lord in that time frame, she’ll get better, too. Still, I feel like changing the past is going to cause all sorts of problems, but she’s the expert. This won’t mean Papa won’t ever have met Mama and had Lady Mary, right? “That’s why I’m here. As someone who has been alive for over a millennium, I can fix the changed history to be close to its present state.” I get it. That’s the most elder-est elder for you. “Hmm? Did you say something?” “Arwf?! (No, nothing at all?!)” I only thought it. “Squeak. (I’ve always thought this, but you really do mutter everything you’re thinking out loud, beloved.)” Are you freaking serious? Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? I slip up sometimes since I’m a dog and Lady Mary and the others don’t understand what I’m saying, but everything just slips out of my mouth? “Now then, Routa, we’ll conduct the ritual to send you to the past in one week. Make sure you get yourself prepared beforehand.” “Arf, arf. (I mean, it doesn’t matter if I’m prepared. I just have to do this.)” I don’t have to think about it too hard. Hecate and Len and Nahura are all here for me. We’ll manage. Just know that the only help I can provide is being a fixed gun turret that can do nothing but shoot barf beams. “Arwf, arwf. (Well, I guess that means it’s time to go talk to everyone about it.)” Even though I’ll be able to return to my original time, it looks like my subjectivity will be taking a back seat anyway. “Arwf! (Now that that’s settled, let’s get moving!)” Outside, it’s already dark. Everyone in the mansion will be going to sleep soon. And when night comes, that means it’s time for my walk through the forest.
Chapter 114
33 min read