Chapter 48

4. The People’s Prayer The sharp claw pierced the man’s abdomen, tearing out his entrails and sending fresh blood spurting into the air. The man dropped his sword and collapsed to the ground without a sound. “Brother!” the girl yelled, moving to run over to her elder sibling—but she soon leaped back, sensing an attack from the side. Acid doused the spot where she’d been standing, and a pungent smell spread through the air. She could hear a child crying in the distance, awash with the scents of burning flesh and cloying blood. Yet as she held herself up with her sword, she could no longer see any people moving. The young girl was the only person left in her small village. She looked up defiantly, meeting the gazes of the demonic spirits targeting her. “I won’t let you beat me.” She readied her sword, even though it was far too big for her. She remembered her mother once telling her to stop being so desperate to follow in her father’s footsteps. However, right now, this sword was the only one by her side. There was nobody else around. The other villagers had all died because of the witch. She spotted somebody’s misshapen body out of the corner of her eye. A black shadow hovered over it, and she could hear the sound of chewing. The demonic spirits fluttered their wings above her, waiting for the right moment to strike, poised to sink their claws into the girl’s flesh and devour her. That morning, despair had fallen on them even more gently than the rain. With a scream, the girl brandished the massive sword and charged right into the horde of demonic spirits all by herself. The darkness was closing in. A darkness that had been discarded and forgotten eons ago. The long night was beginning. A night that would force people to change how they thought. The powerless who cowered in the presence of the darkness would fall victim to an unforgettable terror. Death and glory awaited those with the will to fight, even if they lacked strength. The truth, however, would only be revealed to those with both strength and determination. In the fallen city of Helginis, where an age had once come to a close, a new age now began. The castle towered over the land fallen to evil, standing shrouded in silence and exposed to the world. Where did I go wrong? Shiron signed the document, his hands shaking, and gave it to his official. The proposal, which consisted of forming an army and advancing beyond the nation’s borders, would be put into action once it passed through the king’s hands. Shiron thought about what had happened the day before. “So how would you like to deal with the liar?” the king of Farsas had asked, looking down at the prime minister. He’d appeared from out of nowhere, carrying a woman who should have been dead under his arm. Shiron never imagined things would end up this way. One woman had the potential to spark a clash between two of the Great Nations. There was a tale from the distant Dark Age about three nations crumbling because of a single woman, but she had allegedly been an exceptional beauty. In contrast, the girl Shiron had discarded was as unremarkable as one could get. As Shiron wrestled with his confusion, Lars shot him an acrimonious smile. “Use your army to attack the castle of the Seventh Witch. If you can manage that, I’ll let this incident slide.” After thorough deliberation, Shiron had accepted the king’s demand. It could even be viewed as a settlement of sorts for Farsas. Either way, the castle of the Seventh Witch was located just west of Medial’s border, practically in a neighboring country. If that was where the demonic spirits were appearing and attacking from, they’d have to deal with it eventually. The “declaration of war” had come as a surprise, but witches were more than fairytale characters. Plus, if what Shizuku said was true and the item really was in the witch’s hands, then perhaps this invasion was a chance to reclaim it. When the king of Medial saw the document Shiron had signed, he appeared to have some questions, but in the end, he issued his approval without saying a word. Three days later, the army formed under royal decree set out for the ruins of Helginis. This army of twenty thousand, however, didn’t even make it to the witch’s castle. They had deployed in absolute secrecy to evade the witch’s notice, using teleportation to assemble right before the border—but the moment they were all together, the army was ambushed by demonic spirits and half destroyed. Caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, the soldiers had no chance to defend themselves, and they fled. That very day, the heads of the army’s generals were delivered to Medial Castle, along with a message from the witch: “Only those who come of their own will shall be welcomed.” “She must be telling us to come as individuals, rather than mobilizing the army,” grumbled the king, having just finished reading the report in his office in Farsas Castle. He’d pressured Medial into mobilizing an army to test how strong their opposition was, but the result was far less interesting than he’d imagined. It had been a week since the illusion of the witch had appeared in major cities across the continent, yet there was no news of anyone having reached the top of the castle yet. The fallen city of Helginis, where the castle stood, was located in the mountainous northwest region of the continent, a place so remote that it was hard for any ordinary person to visit. Many people who made their living by fighting had simply given up after learning of the castle’s location. That said, a considerable number of people still tried, motivated by the promise of becoming the “ruler of the continent” or intrigued by the existence of a witch, something that was only ever heard about in fairy tales. Nearly a hundred of them had spent several days to get to the witch’s castle, using teleportation rings to travel to nearby towns, yet only a handful managed to escape with their lives—and even then, only barely. The vast majority never returned. The king of Farsas skimmed through a report stating that they’d lost contact with the small nations to the north and west of the Helginis ruins, then waved his hand lethargically. “Seems like I’ll never stop receiving pleas for help, no matter how hard I try to wriggle out of them.” “You’re probably right about that,” replied Leuticia. “When people think of exterminating witches, it’s always the wielder of Akashia who comes to mind.” “I hate our ancestors for starting that tradition.” “It’s not just a tradition. It’s been that way ever since the other nations discovered Akashia’s powers.” His sister’s cool-headed observation made the king stick out his tongue like a misbehaving child. Leaning back in his chair, Lars gazed up at the ceiling. “Will the wards around the northern towns of Farsas hold?” “The number of demons is increasing by the day, so I doubt they’ll last long at this rate. It’s only a matter of time. In other countries, entire towns have already been wiped out.” “Guess we can’t rest on our laurels, then. Besides, that witch has the red book, doesn’t she? It’s one of the interlopers’ cursed artifacts.” Lars’s gaze shifted to the man standing beside his sister. Erik nodded, carrying several books tucked under his arm. “It seems the witch hired mercenaries to suppress the demonic spirits before the castle was built. I’ve gotten a witness statement from one of the mercenaries, who claims she always walked around with an untitled red book. From what he says, it sounds like she used that book to gain intel about Medial’s movements that she wouldn’t normally have known.” “So it’s almost certain she’s the culprit. But why did she summon the demons, then organize her own extermination squad to subjugate them?” “Probably so she could build the castle. She caused a large number of deaths on both sides, then used the power from those souls and the Negativity to cast a castle-building forbidden curse. That type of magical architecture was tested out at the beginning of the Dark Age, but it was assumed the technique was lost long ago.” “Isn’t the fact that she constructed the castle enough to prove that she’s behind this, then?” “Yes. Plus, the location where Helginis once stood has been transformed into the underworld using a forbidden curse. She must have restored and reversed the effects of a purification barrier that once existed in that land. There are no surviving records regarding a purification barrier in Helginis, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was mentioned in her book.” “She’s exploiting lost knowledge, huh? That’s not something to be taken lightly. Does she have any idea how much of a mess the continent’s history already is?” Lars’s exasperated comment prompted Leuticia to expand. “There are many parts that are still secret, even of the history that we know. If you were to add in the experiments that were erased from records, it would be too terrible to process. It’s likely the women’s souls collected from different cities were also used to turn the area into the underworld and construct her castle.” The anger in the princess’s voice was palpable. The number of victims was already staggering. There were the women whose souls had been extracted, the mercenaries who’d been hired to be used as raw materials, and the residents of the towns and villages that had been attacked. The three people in the office paused for a moment, contemplating their own thoughts concerning this huge incident that was sure to leave its mark on history. A map of the continent was spread out on the desk in the laboratory—a stark contrast to the picture book drafts that were normally there. Harve pointed to a spot in the northwest and gave Shizuku an explanation. “Helginis is the name of a country that was destroyed at the end of the Dark Age. In fact, people say the fall of Helginis marked the end of that age.” “Huh? A country way out in the corner of the continent put an end to the Dark Age?” Helginis lay to the northwest of Farsas and west of Medial in a relatively small mountainous region. Harve smiled, appearing to have anticipated Shizuku’s confusion. “At that time, the entire continent was exhausted from many years of war. People were ready to bring things to a close, but there was nothing that could prompt a conclusion. That’s when Helginis, which had managed to avoid the horrors of war thanks to its isolated position surrounded by rocky mountains, got wiped out in a single night.” “In one night…? Was it destroyed by a forbidden curse?” After spending a year in this world, that was the first possibility that came to Shizuku’s mind. But Harve shook his head. “No. It was destroyed by a witch.” “…A witch.” Shizuku had seen a witch in Medial just a short while earlier: the Seventh Witch, who’d just declared war on the continent. Harve smiled at Shizuku, apparently having read her mind. “Not the Seventh Witch. Back then, there were five witches on the continent, and none of them had tried to get involved in the chaos. But then, a witch suddenly appeared in Helginis and burned the country to the ground. This made people realize how much of a threat witches actually were…and they stopped fighting one another. Peace reigned after the Dark Age, but the people were terrified of witches. I doubt the witches themselves gave it much thought, though.” Harve sounded like he was joking. After all, Farsas had a deep connection with witches. The Age of Witches had ended three hundred years earlier, when the king of Farsas took a witch as his queen. One of their children, the now-deceased Sixth Witch, was Queen Fystoria, hence this was why Aviella was the Seventh Witch. Harve picked up his tea and warmed his throat. “I strayed off topic a little, but that’s a basic history of Helginis, the region that’s causing us problems right now.” “Really? Is the problem the fact that it’s surrounded by tall mountains?” “No. It’s an area dense with magic—or perhaps you could say that the boundaries blocking us off from other realms are less distinct there. You find places like that around the continent.” “…Oh. Now that you mention it, the folktale surrounding the lake where Mea lived said that it was originally so full of magical power that no fish could live there. But then, the water god built a castle and purified it, so people were able to fish there.” The small bird perched at the corner of the table looked up at the mention of her name. Having been weakened from using too much of her power in Medial, Mea now seemed right as rain. Harve nodded like a proud teacher. “That’s right. Lake Nevys is a well-known example. Helginis is another place where the density of the magical energy made it impossible to enter. But about eleven hundred years ago, a woman known as the saint came and purified the land at the cost of her own life. She’d been accompanied by her followers, and as they mourned her death, they founded the kingdom of Helginis to ensure her sacrifice wasn’t in vain.” “Whoa… That’s a pretty amazing story.” It was hard to understand why someone would go as far as to sacrifice their life to make an inhospitable place livable, but Shizuku figured she must have had her reasons. Harve, who specialized in history, gently raised a finger. “It seems as though there was a massive magical device that continued to purify Helginis, even after the saint’s death, but since the witch wrecked the town, no detailed information remains. The device was likely destroyed along with everything else. After Helginis was wiped out, the area became shrouded in magic once again, and for hundreds of years, nobody was able to step foot in the area. That is, until recently.” “And now it’s the focus of the whole continent, and not in a good way.” Having verbalized it, Shizuku and Harve both fell silent at the severity of the situation they were faced with. Shizuku took a sip of her tea, which had gone completely cold, and thought back on the events of the previous few days. Since Aviella unleashed her declaration of war on the continent, people had been terrified, whispering about the “return to darkness” and the “advent of the witches.” Many towns and villages had been attacked by the demons that used Helginis as their base, and the number of victims was growing by the day. None of the nations knew how to respond, and after hearing about the defeat of Medial’s army, they were all hesitant to act. Although a sense of gloom shrouded the entire continent like a blanket of darkness, some people had set out for the witch’s castle, driven by ambition or a sense of justice. Discussions on how to tackle the situation were proceeding in Farsas night and day as well. Erik had been to the witch’s castle and examined both its interior and exterior, so he’d been leading these meetings to plan countermeasures. This role left him exceedingly busy, so Shizuku hadn’t had the chance to meet up with him since he came back. Instead, Harve was checking up on her for Erik, so Shizuku was using this opportunity to learn a few things from the history specialist. Harve let out a heavy sigh as he stood in front of the map. “According to Erik, the witch has restored and reversed the magical device in Helginis, transforming the land into the underworld… Witches are a real nuisance.” “Uh, how strong are witches, exactly? Like, how did one destroy a nation?” When Shizuku had first met Erik, he’d explained that a witch was a term for an extremely powerful female mage, but she still couldn’t quite grasp how strong that was. Harve forced a smile and sighed as he responded to her innocent question. “Not all witches are the same, but people say that they’re usually powerful enough to go up against an army of tens of thousands, all on their own. The sheer size and power of the magic they can utilize is unrivaled. They say Helginis was simply burned to the ground by a large-scale destruction spell. That’s not something a human could achieve.” “Whoa. That’s some firepower…” Could somebody that powerful actually exist? Shizuku cast her mind back to the side profile of the woman who’d appeared in the dark sky that day. Aviella had spoken about the return of darkness and encouraged people to take on her challenge, yet her face looked unmistakably human. Or, at least, she had to Shizuku. What had been running through that woman’s mind as she introduced herself as a loathsome “witch”? “I guess you’ve gotta be level fifty to defeat the Demon Lord, huh…” “What are you talking about?” As Harve and Shizuku struggled to understand one another, they heard a knock at the door and rose to their feet. Two soldiers had come to see them, bearing a message for Shizuku. “The king has asked to see you.” “Me?” Shizuku was surprised by this sudden invitation, but she had no right to refuse. Harve volunteered to accompany her, and they followed the soldiers to the king’s office. “I wonder what he wants from me. Do you think he might be craving some carrot cake?” “Not a chance. Maybe he’s in the mood for another two-hour run.” “I can’t stand those; they ruin my appetite. I end up puking half the time.” The pair’s light-hearted conversation continued until they stepped foot in the office. As soon as the soldier opened the door, Shizuku heard Erik shouting sharply at her. “Shizuku! Don’t come in!” “Huh?” As Shizuku stood there wide-eyed, the king suddenly reached out toward her. He managed to restrain her with his muscular arms in no time, and her eyes darted around in bewilderment. Before Shizuku had the chance to protest, Lars’s hand was already on her neck. The king’s grip was firm beneath her chin, putting pressure on her breathing. Shizuku instinctively held her breath, and the king snickered, his voice right next to her ear. “Tell me. If you don’t, I’ll snap her neck right here and now.” “You bastard!” Shizuku heard the disgusted voice of a woman condemning the king’s behavior. It was only then that she realized Ortea was in the room. Lars’s gaze wasn’t directed at Shizuku, however, but at a certain young man. The man’s deep-blue eyes glared back at him, brimming with anger. “Let go of her.” “Didn’t you hear what I just said?” This wasn’t the sort of situation that could be dismissed as a joke; the atmosphere was dangerously hostile. Shizuku froze as she sensed Lars’s grip tighten. Unable to understand what was happening, she looked at Erik. But at that moment, from the corner of her eye, she spotted a navy-blue book lying on the table—and in an instant, the suffocating sensation was replaced by an inexplicable dizziness, causing Shizuku to become unsteady on her feet. Two hours before Shizuku was called to the king’s office… “—Even so, information is getting out far too quickly,” Lars said as he leafed through his paperwork. He was talking about the incident involving Medial. Medial was one of the Great Nations, having dominated vast stretches of land for over two hundred years. They’d been swift to assemble and mobilize their army, yet the country’s troops had been ambushed by a horde of demonic spirits and defeated before they even managed to cross the border. Could they have had a spy in the royal court? Once Erik heard the king express his frustration, he shook his head. “It’s probably the book. All sorts of things are recorded in it, including the “verified actions” of nations and influential people, which are logged as part of the continent’s history. The moment Medial decided to deploy its forces, that information was likely added to the record.” Hearing this, Leuticia frowned. “It was ‘added’? You’re saying the book updates itself automatically?” “Yes.” “That has to be against the rules. If there’s a book that keeps track of current events as they happen, then nothing can be kept secret.” If the red book really did have that power, it would make it extremely difficult for nations and important figures to make any moves. Lars, the king of the most powerful nation on the continent and a man famed for wielding Akashia, looked understandably annoyed. He glanced at Erik with his arms crossed. “You seem to know a suspicious amount about that book. Where’d you learn all this?” “I have a similar book myself. So far, no information from inside Farsas has been revealed to the red book’s owner. That information has been getting added to my book, rather than the red one.” “What do you mean?” “It would be quicker for you to see it for yourself.” As Erik said this, he casually offered the king a book enclosed in a black cover. The sight of it stunned the two direct descendants of the Farsasian royal family into silence for a moment. From their perspective, this was an object that needed to be eradicated, a cursed artifact that the interlopers had presumably created, yet here it was, right in front of them. After recovering from the initial shock, Leuticia cautiously reached out for it and picked it up. “Is it safe to look at?” “I think so. I’ve read it myself, and I’m fine.” After glancing at her brother, who gave a nod, Leuticia flipped through the pages of the untitled book. Inside, she found a history of the vast continent they lived on. It detailed events spanning over a thousand years. The last entry in the book stated that the 30th king of Farsas, Lars, had unexpectedly traveled to Medial. This event had occurred just a week prior. Frowning, Leuticia passed the book to her older brother, who skimmed through it with his elbow propped on the table. “…So there’s more than one of these? That was an oversight on my part,” he admitted. “As far as I know, there are two books documenting the history of the continent: this one and the red book the witch has in her possession. The nations covered in each book depend on the era that’s being written about. Currently, this one’s focusing on Farsas, Kisk, Gandona, and other countries in the central to southwestern regions.” “The other book must cover Medial and the other eastern and northern territories, then.” Despite his initial surprise, Lars was quick to adjust to this new revelation. Perhaps the knowledge of magical artifacts that had been passed down to him had helped with that. Erik nodded in response to Lars’s remark, then continued talking. “When it comes to dividing events by country, the records seem to prioritize where something happened rather than where the people involved were from. For example, although the book says that you traveled to Medial the other day, it doesn’t mention what you did there.” In which case, those details must have been logged in the red book instead. Lars tutted as he flipped through the pages. After skimming through about a dozen, his eyes landed on the word “Farsas.” There, he saw accounts regarding the history of his kingdom that weren’t supposed to leave the nation’s borders. His expression twisted into a scowl. “I’d love to tell this book to stop logging things without permission, but it works in our favor that updates about Farsas are logged in this book. We can make preparations within our own borders and strike Helginis before the enemy catches on.” “Maybe, but… Do you really believe this is genuine, Lars?” Leuticia didn’t think Erik was lying to them; she just found it hard to believe that such an item actually existed. Anyone who heard about the book would probably ask the same question. Lars tilted his head to one side. “If that’s what you’re worried about, why don’t we carry out an experiment? Let’s do something. Maybe we could erect a bronze statue of a duck?” “…Is that the best you can come up with?” Testing the book’s capabilities was a good idea, but building a meaningless statue for such a purpose wasn’t. It would take too long to see results. Hearing his sister’s objection, Lars tilted his head in the other direction. “Okay, let’s do something quick and easy. Let me think… I know—go and summon Ortea.” Ortea was the queen of a neighboring country, and they’d only just negotiated a truce with her. Leuticia’s eyes widened at this suggestion, but she soon nodded and left the room. Once his sister was gone, Lars carried on flipping through the book. Ten minutes later, the king was staring at the blank last page of the book when words suddenly started to appear. The new sentence read, “By order of the king, Farsas has invited the queen of Kisk to their nation.” Lars’s gaze turned icy for a moment after seeing the letters written by an invisible hand, and he silently closed the book. As one would expect, the witch’s illusion had graced the skies of Kisk’s castle city as well. Her ominous declaration of war terrified its citizens, who’d just ended their conflict with Farsas. Kisk hadn’t been subject to any demon attacks yet, though. Their distance from Helginis was most likely to thank for that. As a result, Ortea continued with her usual admin work while simultaneously preparing for a potential assault. This involved reviewing and signing documents ordering for the detection barriers along the border to be strengthened. “She calls herself a witch, does she? That’s quite a bold claim to make.” There had been six witches in recorded history. While all of them had been feared for their incredible power, none of them had openly confronted humanity. Every so often, a witch had shown up and instilled fear in people—with the destruction of Helginis being one such example—but they’d never played a role in belligerent, hostile actions, such as commanding hordes of demons to massacre tens of thousands of people. What was the new so-called witch planning on doing? Still holding her pen, Ortea began to turn the phrase “declaration of war” over in her head—but her thoughts was interrupted by an unexpected message from Farsas, who’d last been in touch only a few days earlier. “Farsas again, huh…? Those fools have no qualms about inconveniencing people.” The queen grumpily picked up the document. When she scanned through it, she was surprised to discover that Farsas’s plea was a respectable one. Apparently, they wanted to consult with her about the witch incident in private. “A consultation? They must have nerves of steel, summoning me.” Teleportation would allow her to reach Farsas in an instant, but why did she, the queen, need to show up in person? Ortea was frustrated, but she knew it’d cause even more of a nuisance to decline the request and have them show up uninvited in Kisk instead. She quickly signed the documents she’d been going through, summoned a mage, and set off for Farsas. When she got there, however, she was told about a completely preposterous book. “A secret history book that was brought here from outside our world? Are you half asleep? Or have you finally lost your mind? Not that you ever were a respectable man.” After everything was explained to her, Ortea’s initial reaction was to mock Lars. “I’m being serious,” Lars calmly replied, flashing her a mischievous smile. “And what’s more, the book updates automatically in real time.” “…Is this a joke? There’s no way such a thing could exist.” “Want to test it out? Name any event, past or present. What do you want me to find?” Ortea didn’t know how to answer. Parts of her nation’s and her own personal history that she didn’t want anybody to know came flooding back. The man held out the book to the queen. Perhaps it was because it had no title, or because of what she’d just heard, but it looked weirdly repugnant. Ortea took it in both hands. The feel of its leather binding resembled the skin of a living person. Ortea looked down at it as though it were a loathsome insect. Then she opened it to the page indicated by the bookmark. The young queen immediately froze. A stunned murmur escaped her lips. “How does it know about Tryphina…?” Only direct descendants of Kisk’s royal bloodline knew the truth about their nation’s first queen. Ortea—the only person alive who should know what was written on that page—dropped the book in shock. Lars managed to catch the thick tome in his hand right before it hit the floor. “Do you believe me now?” “…This is ridiculous.” “Well, I don’t care if you don’t believe me. Your job here’s done.” “What did you just say?” Ortea attempted to intimidate the insolent king, but when he showed her the book’s final page and she realized that she’d been summoned as part of an “experiment,” her beautiful face tensed up. On that same page was another entry stating, Kisk has decided to strengthen its magical barriers at the border. This decision had only just been made, so there was no possible way Farsas could have known. Ortea reread the page several times, experiencing a mixture of anger and mild revulsion. Ortea wished she could dismiss this eerie discovery as nonsense, but the fear and curiosity that came from something so incomprehensible kept her rooted in place. Ortea was as rigid as a doll, and Lars sat her down in a nearby chair and briefly explained the oral legends that had been passed down in Farsas. Then the king shifted his gaze back to Erik. “What do you think would happen if we burned this book?” “My hypothesis is that all future entries would move to the red one.” “I see. So destroying it now would only play right into our enemy’s hands.” Ortea gave Lars an exasperated look, shocked at how eager he seemed to throw the book into the flames. As he held that tome filled with numerous powerful forbidden curses, Lars’s expression turned thoughtful. He glanced over at his sister, who was leaning against the wall. “If entries are split up depending on the location of an event, our enemy will know what I’m doing as soon as I step foot in Helginis territory… What am I supposed to do?” “The witch says she’s happy to take on individual challengers, but I doubt you’ll be treated like any ordinary swordsman. If you mobilize your army, everything will depend on how swiftly and promptly you can capture the castle.” “Yeah. Well, we can think about that later,” said Lars. “Right now, the problem lies with you.” His tone was light—but only as light as a cloth wrapped around a sword. Erik, the recipient of Lars’s penetrating gaze, furrowed his brow. “What do you need?” “Where did you get this book?” Lars asked. “About a month ago, from a traveling merchant,” replied Erik. “Don’t lie to me.” Anyone else would have faltered under Lars’s sharp glare, whether or not it was their first time being on the receiving end of it. Yet Erik calmly met the king’s gaze. There was nothing in his eyes that suggested he was lying. In fact, he gave so little away that asking further questions seemed pointless. Despite this, Lars just smiled and refused to look away. Ortea and Leuticia appeared puzzled by the hostility brewing between the two men. The king continued, still glaring straight at Erik. “You revealed this information because we wouldn’t be able to defeat the witch without knowing the function of these books, didn’t you? But if you were trying to deceive me, you should have ensured that that girl was on the same page. Tell me the truth—this book belongs to her, doesn’t it? I’m right, aren’t I?” Lars wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Erik narrowed his eyes, meeting the king’s gaze. The tension in the air was palpable. Erik began to open his mouth to deny the king’s accusation. If their conversation had continued, he might have won the king over. But at that moment…an oblivious Shizuku arrived. It hurt to breathe. She was dizzy. The pressure of the king’s grip wasn’t fully to blame, though. In fact, Lars’s hand wasn’t even obstructing her breathing. He was just lifting her chin up, his grip soft around her narrow neck. Shizuku didn’t understand why this was happening. She stumbled and bumped into the king. Lars casually waved a hand to dismiss Harve and the soldiers who’d come with Shizuku, then steadied her to stop her from collapsing. With that, he resumed questioning Erik. “Are you still refusing to speak? You wouldn’t want this girl to die in vain, would you? “She doesn’t know anything.” “But you were there, weren’t you? You were there when I negotiated with Ortea at the fortress in Kisk. This girl knew about the royal family’s hidden resources—something not even Ortea was aware of. How do you explain that?” Erik was the only one whose expression remained unchanged. Ortea, who’d been there at the time, and even Shizuku, who’d said it, went wide-eyed. The knowledge she wasn’t supposed to possess stirred inside Shizuku, making her sick to her stomach. Her head hurt. She felt nauseous. Her whole body was convinced the ground had disappeared beneath her feet. The king’s voice sounded distant, even though he was right beside her. “Nothing about the crystal cave in Kisk was mentioned in this book. That means it must have been written in the witch’s book. So how did this girl know about it? Is she a spy?” Why did Shizuku know something like that? She wanted to know more than anybody. The information had seeped into her beneath her awareness. It was as though it had always been there, lurking deep within her. She couldn’t fight against it. After all, she was unable to recognize its presence. Someone let out a sigh. It was probably Leuticia or Ortea. Erik never sighed. He just gazed at Shizuku with a bitter expression. Shizuku swallowed the breath that kept her alive. In almost the same instant, Erik responded to the king. “Fine. I’ll explain.” “Make sure it’s the truth.” “Of course. Shizuku is nothing but a victim.” At long last, Lars released Shizuku’s neck. He lifted her up and sat her on a nearby desk. As Shizuku pressed her hands against her throat, everyone’s eyes turned toward the mage. The room was filled with anxiety. Erik glanced at the book on the table in the center. For a moment, Shizuku thought she saw a flicker of contempt in his gaze, but maybe she was imagining it. “Both this book and the one the witch has came from outside this world. They indiscriminately record the continent’s history. But that’s not the only power they hold.” Shizuku knew what he was going to say next. She knew it, and yet she couldn’t remember what it was. She just couldn’t extract the thought. She didn’t need to remember anything to understand, though. She could feel it. Erik was the only person who’d noticed the truth. He was the only person to reach it. He must have grasped the situation long before Shizuku ever did. “This book has the power to implant someone with the innate language of this continent. Humans didn’t always possess innate language skills—the languages were unified so the interlopers’ cursed artifacts could take records.” “I want you to tell me your name.” The girl’s golden eyes widened at the sound of the man’s voice, and she cocked her head to one side. She looked perplexed, then pointed at the water jug in his hand and asked him something. When he realized that she was asking whether he disliked the flavor of the water, he shook his head. “No. I asked you for your name.” People in this isolated village didn’t seem to understand the language he spoke. The girl looked even more troubled now, continuously glancing back at her village, but the man took her small hand in his and made her look back at him. “Your name. Do you understand me?” First, he patted his chest and said his own name: “Aetea.” Then he pointed at the girl and cocked his head to one side. It was a natural gesture for both of them to make, despite not sharing a common language. At long last, the girl seemed to understand. With an innocent smile, she pointed at her chest. “Ludia.” This is a tale from long, long ago, of a god and his goddess. Erik’s words spread throughout the office like an invisible blaze. It was clear that the three royals were finding his revelation hard to accept. They all believed to certain extents that innate language was rooted in the depths of human nature. Erik, however, was indicating that these skills had been implanted by an external force. Nobody could say a word. Shizuku held her breath and stared at him. Erik, meanwhile, continued to speak in his usual calm manner. “I’ve spent a long time with Shizuku, learning about the languages of her world. I’ve reached the conclusion that language is something created by people. In her world, there are countless different languages across many countries and regions, and they even evolve as different eras and cultures influence human thought.” “Huh? That’s the first I’ve heard,” commented the king. “I never mentioned it before. In Shizuku’s world, language and thought are closely interconnected, and humans are capable of complex thoughts precisely because language exists. The two complement each other and evolve together.” That was the answer Erik had reached regarding the natural state of language. And yet, things in his world were different. “In contrast, innate language is a fixed skill that people are equipped with. When you compare it to languages that humans created, though, the presence or absence of certain words doesn’t make sense. Why does innate language contain not only words for things from the natural world, but also for manmade inventions? I still haven’t found a clear answer to that question.” Leuticia propped up her chin with her elegantly shaped fingers. “Isn’t it just happenstance that we were supplied with that vocabulary? We tend to use compound words to refer to things that people have created.” “We do, but there’s actually a limit to the artificial objects our innate language can describe. Things that existed before the oldest written records—around a hundred years before the Dark Age—have their own names, whereas items invented afterward are named using compound words. Doesn’t that suggest that our innate vocabulary was shaped around the way things were at that point in history?” “Created…? But how could something innate be—?” At that point, Leuticia fell silent. She must have remembered that the interlopers’ cursed artifacts had the unique ability to “make the impossible possible.” Erik merely glanced at his boss, then continued making his point. “The unnatural aspects of innate language have been overlooked due to the hypothesis that our souls are connected to a realm that controls innate language. After examining several cases involving defective souls, however, I’ve reached another conclusion: Innate language skills are not dependent on the soul. Which begs the question—where does innate language come from?” Erik paused to take a breath, then looked around at everyone in the room. “My conclusion is that innate language was abruptly introduced from outside our world during the unnamed period between the Age of Gods and the Dark Age. When you look at it that way, a lot of things start to make sense.” “But still…,” Leuticia said, gently shaking her head. As Erik’s superior, she must have already been familiar with his claim that innate language wasn’t dependent on the soul. Yet even if she’d accepted that, she wasn’t immediately convinced that innate language skills were the product of the interlopers’ cursed artifacts. If Erik’s hypothesis was true, then they’d been at the mercy of the interlopers’ cursed artifacts all along. They’d been under their influence without even realizing it. That thought was beyond disturbing. The princess bit her tongue. Her brother cocked his head slightly and spoke up on her behalf. “Explain the reasoning behind that claim. In what way does it ‘make sense’?” “Let me explain.” Erik pulled out a chart from the pile of documents he was carrying. “This chart lists the countries mentioned in my navy-blue book, arranged chronologically by decade.” Leuticia received the chart from Erik, glanced at it, then frowned. The number of countries written about in the book had almost doubled at the beginning of the Dark Age, despite the fact that no significant historical events had occurred during that time. She passed the piece of paper to Ortea and asked her subordinate a question. “That’s…not because the number of countries exploded during that era, is it?” “Nope.” “According to my rough calculations, the book started recording entries for approximately fifty percent of the nations that existed at that time, when it was originally recording only about a third of them,” said Ortea, outlining her observations in her beautiful voice. While the queen was widely known for her arrogance and sadistic reputation, she was actually quite studious. “Exactly,” said Erik, responding to the queen of the neighboring nation with a nod. Lars—who’d taken the chart out of Ortea’s hand—looked at the time periods in question and gave a half-hearted grunt. As Erik watched the piece of paper being passed around, he resumed his explanation. “At a certain point during the Dark Period, the number of entries changed drastically. That signifies…a change in the number of books.” His indigo blue eyes locked onto Shizuku. They’d had this conversation before. Somewhere, at some point in the past. Captured by that sense of déjà vu, Shizuku spoke up. “There were three books originally, weren’t there?” “Correct. Somewhere along the line, one of the books disappeared, so the two that remained had to cover more information.” When she closed her eyes, Shizuku could sense a hazy image beginning to surface. Three books were lined up on a white desk. It felt like a fleeting memory seen through mist, even more elusive than déjà vu. Just as Shizuku was about to fall into this waking dream, the king’s voice brought her back to reality. “Was one of the books disposed of?” Lars asked. “No. There’s actually a document that tells us what happened to the other book. Think about what happened on the continent about one hundred and thirty years after the Dark Age began. Wars intensified, faith in Aetea spread, advancements were made with sailing ships. In other words…” The mage stared at Lars, silently goading an answer out of him. Erik knew the king would know to what he was alluding—and sure enough, Lars came up with the response he’d been hoping for. “Emigration. The book was moved to the eastern continent.” “Exactly. One of Aetea’s followers took it there, calling it God’s Written Prophecy.” Erik pulled a thesis out of the documents he was holding, eliciting a small cry of recognition from Shizuku. Before everyone’s attention could turn to her, Erik began his explanation. “This thesis, submitted by a devotee of Aetea, is about innate language deficiency. It starts with an abstract detailing the ‘possible lack of a unified language during the Age of Gods,’ and contains many intriguing observations. There are too many to describe in detail, but one section quotes the journal of a follower of Aetea who was one of the first emigrants. In it, he says, ‘At first, we couldn’t communicate properly with the people of the eastern continent, but once they came into contact with the holy book and understood, they started listening to what we said.’” “That means…” All four of them immediately grasped what Erik was implying. Most people interpreted this passage to be suggesting that the god’s teachings helped the people understand one another. Erik, however, was indicating that it meant something much more straightforward: that the book’s powers had helped the people to understand one another. Leuticia sighed and leaned against the wall, shaken up by this dramatic shift in the interpretation of the story. Ortea frowned, her cheek resting on her hand. “Was that thesis brought here from Kisk?” “Yes. Is there an issue?” “It doesn’t matter to me. Niké must have passed it on to Shizuku. Still, I don’t think we can decisively pinpoint the book’s abilities from that one passage. It could have been a different book that was taken to the eastern continent, and maybe the part about language was purely coincidental.” “I thought the same,” Erik replied, “so I checked every existing mention of the holy book. I couldn’t find many, since the documents were from a different continent, but several of them gave specific details about the book’s contents. The holy book documented the early history of the Dark Age on this continent, the history of the continent to the east, and conflicting accounts of multiple events. The third book probably began recording the history of the eastern continent after it was taken there and, since it described ‘erased experiments,’ people revered it as a prophetic text. One description even stated that ‘history continued to be logged by the invisible hand of god,’ indicating that new entries were automatically added. There’s no other book like it.” Erik paused to catch his breath. Then he looked around the room and continued. “As for the effects of the books in question, these three books are likely cursed artifacts, intended for use on this continent. My theory is that all three were necessary to produce their full effect. That’s not because they needed three books to record the continent’s extensive history, though; the fact that the entries were split between two volumes instead of three after the third book went to the eastern continent makes that clear. So then, why did they need all three books? The answer is to ensure that innate language skills were sufficiently distributed. In fact, a minor issue arose on the continent after the number of books went down to two: Certain regions developed accents.” A long time ago, way back in the Dark Age, a number of people emigrated to the eastern continent. The continent to the east was hit even harder by the turmoil of war, so hardly any records from the time remained, but in modern times, at least, innate language was commonplace there. The only notable difference was that many of the regions had heavy accents. Meanwhile, certain areas of the western continent also began to develop accents following wide-scale emigration to the east. “It’s unclear whether the primary function of the books was to record history or to make everyone speak the same language. That said, given that language influences the way we think, it’s possible they unified our language to limit our thoughts. In fact, in her world…Shizuku’s world, a language encapsulates a country’s history and culture, making it difficult for foreigners to fully comprehend. For the interlopers, however, disparities between nations were probably seen as unnecessary, so they eliminated any potential issues by making us all speak the same language.” Is it just me, or is Erik furious? Shizuku suddenly thought, staring at Erik’s characteristically composed expression. When Shizuku shared her theory regarding language in Medial, Erik had reacted somberly, appearing to be deep in thought. He must have been contemplating the limitations caused by unifying language ever since. To a man like Erik, who considered introducing technology and knowledge from other worlds to be unnatural, the idea that language—the foundation of thought—had been tampered with by outsiders must have been hard to bear. Shizuku stared into his deep-blue eyes, sensing that his emotions were in a rare state of turmoil, regardless of how calm his explanation sounded. “All of our continent’s written records from before a certain point were lost. This cutoff point came around a hundred years before the Dark Age, which I earlier theorized was when our innate language was introduced from outside our world. The texts that existed before then were probably in multiple different languages, which is why they were destroyed. The only ancient stories that remain, in fact, are those that were passed down by word of mouth.” Erik fixed his gaze on Shizuku. “The influence of the interlopers’ cursed artifacts could only extend to innate language skills, and that’s restricted to spoken language. Once the language we spoke was unified, our written language could be largely homogenized as well. All records from after that point were in this unified language. The outsiders were desperate to ensure that nobody questioned why everyone on the continent spoke the same language, which is precisely why visitors from outside the continent were such a nuisance to them.” The word “nuisance” hit Shizuku like a hammer. What came next would be about her. She was sure of it. Something about herself that even she didn’t know. What would happen to her as a result? “A fishing boat once rescued a shipwrecked man from an unknown continent. After reaching the shore, the man was welcomed by the local lord, went on to become his right-hand man, and left behind a memoir about his homeland. According to the fisherman who’d saved him, ‘At first, he was weak and deranged, babbling things we couldn’t understand. He must have calmed down by the time we reached the town, though, because he’d started speaking normally.’ That is to say, the man—unaffected by the cursed artifacts’ power—had initially been speaking a language from another continent, but the artifacts changed the language he spoke when he reached the shore. The cursed artifacts had skillfully identified the visitor and removed the element that would spark concern.” And so, the man from another continent adjusted to his new life in this closed-off sandbox. While his homeland remained in his thoughts, he lived out his days on the continent, unable to return. Did he curse his fate? Was he resentful? “But then, fourteen hundred years after language was unified, an unexpected visitor arrived on the continent. Not only did she speak a different language, she was from another world—a world that took language diversity as a given.” Everyone’s eyes focused on Shizuku. She felt uncomfortable, but she didn’t lower her gaze. Instead, she lifted her chin and gazed at Erik. For a brief moment, he looked at her in his usual gentle way. Then, wearing a bittersweet smile that hinted at the mixed feelings he was harboring, he spoke in the language that had been in him since birth. “The artifacts must have used a considerable amount of power to alter her language and prevent her from noticing anything strange about our continent—and its efforts were successful. She didn’t question why people understood her language. Instead, she simply embarked on a journey, hoping to find a way back to her old world. But then, the strong influence that the cursed artifacts had on her began to produce side effects. She began to subconsciously connect with the books, gaining the ability to read what’s inside them.” “…Connect…with the books?” “Even before, when she collapsed, she’d start describing events from history that never happened, saying she ‘saw it in a dream.’ The revelation she came out with during the negotiations with Kisk wasn’t an isolated incident. She has possessed knowledge with no discernible source on numerous occasions. Some of the things she knew weren’t even described in this navy-blue book we have here, meaning she’s probably connected to all three books.” To Shizuku, it felt as though Erik was talking about someone else. She knew that wasn’t the case, though. Her legs trembled uncontrollably. “Naturally, she can’t remember her connection to the books when she’s fully awake. It’s different when she’s asleep. In her dreams, she can get closer to the books…and absorb their knowledge.” Why and how did Erik know that? On two occasions, Shizuku had told him she was scared of the knowledge she wasn’t supposed to possess. Yet now, she couldn’t even remember doing that. She’d been made to forget it. She’d been trapped right from the beginning. Locked in a cage inside a sandbox, all alone—and she hadn’t even realized it. A white room stretched endlessly around her. There lay three books. She knew she could read them all. She knew she was connected to them. She just struggled to remember it under normal circumstances. In other words, she was… “I’m…!” Her head throbbed. Someone screamed in the depths of her memory. Her world grew distorted. Everything was squashed and slanted—on the inside as well as the outside. Sitting at the desk, Shizuku let out a wordless scream and fell to the ground. Collapsed on the floor, she began to sob, clawing at her face with her short nails. Things that had been revealed to her; things that she hadn’t known; things that she’d been unable to remember—the shock of all of these revelations caused her thoughts to snap, and her mind convulsed as if nauseous. Yet it only lasted a few seconds. A man helped her get to her feet. He stopped her hand before she could scratch herself any more as she tried to reject the overwhelming thoughts. “It’s okay.” Erik had been standing farthest away from Shizuku, yet here he was holding her up, having basically pushed the royals aside. He opened Shizuku’s dark brown eyes for her and peered deeply into them. Erik’s actions hinted at more than just concern. He was checking whether any change had gone on inside her. Sensing his intent, she reached out for him, as if she were drowning. “I-I’m…me.” “Yes. You are you.” He took her hand. Their fingers intertwined. She held on tight. The feel of him returning her grip was the only thing keeping her tethered, though only barely. Shizuku had nobody in Erik’s world. Nobody who’d known her as a child. Nobody who shared her blood. She had no foothold here. If someone accused her of not being a real human, her foundations weren’t strong enough to prove them wrong. I want to go back. I want to go back to my old world. To my old life. I want to see my older sister. I want to look at my little sister’s face. I just want to be free. So please, don’t say that. As Shizuku writhed around in agony like a fish brought to shore, Ortea and Leuticia watched her with a mixture of pity and confusion. Shizuku did use words they couldn’t understand from time to time. These must have been words that were difficult to translate—ones that didn’t adapt easily to the world they were in. Everything else, meanwhile, had been altered. It had all been twisted. The power of the cursed artifacts was lurking within every word that Shizuku uttered and every word she heard. “N-no… I…” Shizuku weakly shook her head, and Erik raised a hand, planning on casting a spell that’d send her into a deep sleep. But before the spell could take shape, another man grabbed his hand from behind. Lars’s frozen eyes were fixed on Shizuku. “Stand,” he demanded. “Lars, what are you…?” Leuticia began. “Can’t you hear me? Stand on your own two feet and look at me.” There was no trace of the king’s usual easygoing nature in this intense command. The sound of his voice made Shizuku shudder. Her eyes had been on the verge of losing focus, but now they wandered the room in search of Lars. How was she going to prove it? How could she prove that she was human, that she had free will, and that she had dignity? If she was going to do that, and if she had any pride, she’d need to stand up for herself. She’d prove herself not through her blood or her flesh, but through her spirit. Lars’s severe reprimand bordered on cruel, and it made the two women frown. Ortea started to rise from her seat, while Leuticia tried to dissuade Lars as she stood up. Erik wasn’t going to stop the king, though. He undid his spell and took Shizuku by the hand. His warmth gently calmed her down, helping her pull herself together. After taking several deep breaths, Shizuku tried to stand up with Erik’s help, still unsteady on her feet. Lars didn’t rush her. He was just waiting in silence. When Shizuku was finally standing before him, he looked down his nose at the girl. The king had the uncompromising gaze of a strong leader, but Shizuku reciprocated his glare, undaunted. At some point, somewhere, she’d looked up at eyes like his before. She remembered how scared she’d been when Akashia’s blade swung down toward her. It made her want to run straight out of the room, so Shizuku mustered all her mental strength just to stay standing. The king posed her a question, his voice calm. “Back then, you jumped from the tower to fight me, didn’t you?” “Yes.” “Then utilize that life of yours one more time.” She’d been unable to fight because she hadn’t realized the truth. What was she supposed to do now? Was she going to flee? Curl into a ball and hide? Or… “I’m going to go and kill the witch,” declared the king. “And you’re going to read the witch’s book.” The book recorded everything, including the king’s whereabouts. The witch’s movements would have been logged there, too. Shizuku was going to read that book, then take on the witch. They’d use the power in the book against her. The continent was vast. Shizuku was far too ordinary and insignificant for her path to be recorded in history. Her actions wouldn’t be documented in any books. It was for that precise reason that she could read the books without the witch knowing. If all three of the books were connected to one another, she should be able to extract the knowledge from the one in the witch’s possession. Aviella assumed that she was the only one who could read the red book, but she’d have the rug pulled from under her feet by none other than Shizuku. Shizuku thought about the souls that had been snatched away in Farsas’s castle city and the court lady who’d died in the castle in Medial. Those incidents were just the tip of the iceberg. The number of victims continued to grow on a daily basis. Allegedly, the attacks on surrounding towns were growing fiercer by the day. There were still people who took up the sword to combat the witch, but the bodies were piling up and small villages were getting destroyed, their terrified citizens unable to escape. It was human nature to feel grief and anger over the situation. Shizuku glanced at the book lying on the table—the cursed artifact that had controlled her on some level and one of the three books that had long subjugated the continent. Its power was fearsome, but it was just a tool used in somebody’s experiment, and nothing more. In which case, there was no reason why she couldn’t use it. She could control that tool herself. Shizuku walked over to the table, picked up the book, and held it against her chest. She turned around and looked up at the king. “I’ll do it.” Shizuku’s shaky response earned her a nod from Lars. A week after the witch declared war, a powerless girl expressed her will to fight. And with that, the cogs of change began to turn. They were set to depart two days later, once travel preparations to Helginis were complete. Shizuku would head there with the navy-blue book and ensure a secure connection was established with Aviella’s red book. When Ortea heard the decision Shizuku had come to, she bit her lip. “You fool. You know you could die, right?” “I’ll be fine, Princess. I’ll be back.” Shizuku’s life had been in danger many times before. Even so, she’d made up her mind to fight. She smiled awkwardly at the queen, then put on a brave face and stood up straight. “Order me to do it, Princess. Tell me to go and deal with the witch. I’ll do as you command.” As long as someone was supporting her, Shizuku felt like she could stay strong, no matter where she ended up. Upon hearing her former subject’s wish, Ortea wiped the anguish off her beautiful face. She briefly lowered her amber eyes, then looked at Shizuku again. There was no longer any trace of anxiety or fear in her expression. Instead, the queen was radiating pure, forceful determination. In a firm voice, Ortea issued Shizuku a command. “Go. And make sure you come back.” “As you command. You can rely on me.” The things Ortea truly wanted to say were impossible to convey in words, so instead, she simply returned to her country to fulfill her role as queen. “So the book didn’t contain any clues that could help us send Shizuku back to her old world,” Leuticia muttered as she scanned the papers Erik had given her. His study of the navy-blue book had concluded that no way of traversing worlds could be deduced from the text. To this he’d added, “It’s likely that innate language skills temporarily returned inside Farsas Castle because the book was brought here.” While the cause of the illness remained unknown, there was a chance it was related to the other book in the witch’s possession. Hearing his sister let out a sigh, Lars prepared the paperwork to assemble the army. At the same time, he was selecting highly skilled mages and officers who could head to the castle as individuals, but in an unprecedented move, he was planning to give them the right to turn down his royal commands. He handed the piece of paper he’d finished writing up to Leuticia. “Okay. I’m leaving this to you. Make sure you do your job properly.” “Huh? This is…a transfer of military authority! Why are you giving me this?” “I’ll make a head start with some other people, and we’ll kill the witch and destroy the book. Once that’s done, you’ll lead the army to capture the castle.” Once the omniscient book was destroyed, Farsas would launch a full-scale attack. The leadership of a royal was necessary for this plan to be fully executed, but Leuticia was sensing an ulterior motive. “What are you talking about?!” she shouted. “I’m coming with you, Lars!” “No. You’re staying behind. You can make your appearance at a later stage.” “Lars!” The king might be an outstanding swordsman and the wielder of Akashia, but he was only strong in human terms. The witch, on the other hand, was such a powerful mage that people called her inhuman. If that wasn’t bad enough, she probably had a high-ranking demon on her side. Facing such a foe on enemy territory without any royal mages protecting you was nothing short of reckless. Just as the princess was about to speak up, determined to change the king’s mind, Lars interrupted her, his voice quiet. “Leuticia.” How many years had it been since her brother last called her by her real name? It had been so long, this simple word had developed the power to remind them both of who they truly were. As Leuticia sat there, frozen, Lars asked his sister a question. “Are you refusing to follow the king’s orders, Leuticia?” The king’s statement hit her hard. It was instilled with unbreachable determination. Leuticia bit her lip and slowly lowered her small head. “…Not at all, Your Majesty.” “Good. Oh, and make sure to prepare a spell that prevents demons from being summoned. Better safe than sorry,” Lars said with a shrug. And with that, he was back to his usual self. Leuticia looked down, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to cry. She heard the kindness in her brother’s voice. “If anything happens to me, you’ll be the only one left. If it comes to that, become queen and have children.” She didn’t respond to that. She simply left with the piece of paper in hand. She and Lars were the last two direct descendants of the Farsasian royal line. After years of suspicion, betrayal, and deceit, they were all that remained. They’d grown up with the motto “never trust your bloodline” hammered into them, and nobody had ever encouraged them to help each other as siblings. If one of them failed to fulfill their royal duties, the other was obligated to kill their sibling and forsake them. That was how they’d been raised—yet despite the treacherous ground they’d traversed, they’d so far managed to avoid conflict. Leuticia had even begun to consider spending her life supporting her brother. “Me? Queen…?” Leuticia raised her head, fighting the urge to get sentimental. All they had to do was win. It didn’t matter that their opponent was a witch. They were going to seize victory without losing a single thing. With that, the unrivaled mage stirred up some cold, murderous spirit inside of her. Harve was among the people Lars had selected for the Helginis expedition. As he looked down at the urgent, top-secret request, he glanced at Erik sitting across from him and forced a smile. “I’m not sure what to do… You’re going, aren’t you?” “Of course. I’ll have to make up for the absence of the princess.” Besides, Shizuku was going. There was no way his friend would stay behind. Harve reread the letter one more time, then burned it in his hand. “To tell you the truth, I’m scared,” he admitted. “I think everyone is. This is a witch we’re up against, after all.” The two men were the only people in the research lab. The books that lined its four walls seemed to bear the weight of history itself. Harve glanced around at the ancient texts, then looked down at his teacup. “I’m frightened of the witch, too, but that’s not all that’s scaring me…” He spoke slowly and haltingly. It was impossible to deduce his thoughts from the gaps between his words. Erik looked up from the book he was holding and glanced at his friend. “What’s the matter?” “Forget it… It’s nothing.” Silence fell once again. A vague stillness gradually began to fill the room. Finally, once both of their cups were empty, Harve stood up. He looked as though he’d put his doubts behind him. “I guess I’ll join you, then.” When did meeting someone stop being a coincidence and become something different? It would be ironic if they’d intentionally arranged to meet. Erik pondered this as he strolled down the corridor, a bittersweet smile on his face. Even if it were a setup, he had no regrets about meeting her. He’d never regretted it for a second. It was meeting Shizuku and learning about her that had led him to numerous realizations. That was far more valuable than continuing to live in ignorance—even if he ended up taking on a witch as a consequence. What had Shizuku gained from their journey, though? Had she gotten anything positive out of coming to Erik’s world and meeting him? When he noticed the direction his idle musings were taking, his smile took on a hint of self-deprecation. He couldn’t answer that question. There was no way of knowing how another person felt. That was why, at the very least, he wanted to give her a future. “Erik.” The woman’s voice caused Erik to stop and turn around. Lera was standing behind him, holding a pile of books. She offered them to Erik. “I found these in the research lab,” she said. “I heard you’re collecting them.” “Oh, thanks.” “What will you do with them, though? You’ll have so many once you’ve gathered them all.” “I’m going to dispose of them,” Erik told her. “I can’t risk any more problems.” “Oh… I suppose that makes sense, but it’s a real shame. The children really liked them.” Lera glanced sadly at the books, then bowed before she went on her way. Once she was out of sight, Erik kept walking, carrying the picture books Shizuku had illustrated in his arms. Her life or her spirit. Which would he protect, and which would she lose? Would he betray her, or would he be able to support her? As he disappeared down the hallway, Erik prayed the day would never come when he’d have to make that decision. At first, having her sleep manipulated by magic had brought an unfamiliar, sluggish feeling with it. After going through it over ten times, however, she’d started to recognize it for what it was. Shizuku looked up through her black eyelashes at the man peering into her face. “I’m fine, I think.” “How do you feel?” “Relatively clear-headed.” She tried moving her fingers, and they did what she wanted them to. Shizuku stood up from the bed and stretched. She released all the air in her lungs, then took another deep breath in. Still watching her intently, Erik opened the book he was holding. “Year 455 of the Farsas calendar?” “Regius Kurus Lar Farsas, the 18th king of Farsas, was on the throne. An invasion using magic biological weapons began in Druza, the neighboring country to the north.” “That’s right. Good job. No problems there.” Shizuku smiled, pleased with the knowledge she’d extracted. The fact that her consciousness was connected to something so far away felt truly bizarre. When she first became aware of this, she’d been disturbed by the repulsive and invasive nature of the discovery, but once she’d calmed down and opened her mind, she realized that neither the connection nor the information it provided her with had a will of its own. It was as though she were floating in a sea filled with countless records. She’d gotten much quicker at extracting the information she wanted from these records as time had gone by. “Again, from stage one,” she heard someone say, so Shizuku climbed back onto the bed. Once she was lying down, the man touched her forehead with his fingers. “I’ll put you to sleep, then start bringing you back one minute later. Okay?” “Okay.” They were set to depart in two days, so Erik had been training Shizuku to retrieve information from the books even while she was awake. The manipulation that the interlopers’ cursed artifacts had been performing on her was extremely subtle. While Shizuku had been able to recognize that she possessed knowledge she had no memory of learning, she was unable to think too deeply about its origin or how unnatural it was. It must have been trying to keep the “original her” as intact as possible, preventing her from suspecting anything. Any potential clues remained faint and spread out at the subconscious level. However, the moment it had been pointed out that she was connected to the books, the seal came off like a bit of dry skin. Her mind—which should have been a single entity—was now merging with something else. The boundaries were ambiguous, and there was no telling how far the connection went. Shizuku, who was finally aware of this, had begun practicing following that connection and making contact with the books of her own accord. “Okay, it’s almost been one minute.” Shizuku would start by falling into a deep, magic-induced sleep and establishing a connection with the cursed artifacts through the navy-blue book. After that, Erik would tamper with the spell to gradually wake her up, gently guiding her back to full consciousness. There were three main stages: The first was when she was mostly asleep but still able to respond; the second was when she was half awake; and the third was when she was only slightly drowsy. They repeated these stages over and over again, making different adjustments. At first, there were failures. Shizuku’s connection to the book would weaken and her memory would become hazy. But after spending an entire day getting used to the process, she’d finally managed to retrieve the book’s contents while she was awake. “Year 559 of the Farsas calendar.” “The Sixth Witch—Fystoria, elder sister of the king of Farsas—got married. Construction of the royal villa began in the northeast of the capital.” “That’s right. And when was the construction of that villa completed?” “Five years later. It was renovated in Year 732 of the Farsas calendar and became a magic archive.” “That’s right. I’ve been there once before,” Erik replied. “You got everything right.” Shizuku let out a sigh of relief. Still sitting on the bed, she ran her fingers through her bangs. “This is like limitless cheating, isn’t it?” she said. “If I could connect to any book, I’d probably even be able to pass the imperial examination.” “I get the point you’re trying to make, but where do you get your weird positivity from?” “I figured finding the silver linings would make life more fun,” Shizuku said, taking the tea that Mea had prepared for her. She wasn’t physically drained, but repeatedly falling asleep and waking up again in quick succession was still tiring. That said, although he’d used his magic dozens of times by now, Erik didn’t seem especially tired. He was helping himself to a flower-shaped snack with a serious look on his face. Erik thought to himself for a moment, then asked a question about a different book. “Can you sense anything about the third book?” “The one that went to the continent in the east? Yeah, I can. It’s still on the other continent. I can’t quite grasp what’s written in it, though. The connection is there, but the distance must be getting in the way.” The third book was too far away, making it challenging for Shizuku to extract its contents. Instead, she was able to retrieve information from the book in Aviella’s possession. It had taken them several attempts to confirm that this was what was actually happening. The red book might not be there with them, but they could cross-reference the information with records from Farsas’s forbidden curse archives. Shizuku’s ability to read the witch’s book was key to their current strategy. The king had already been informed that she did, indeed, possess that ability. There was just one thing left to do: They needed to take advantage of Shizuku’s connection with the book to implement their decisive strategy. This plan was based on one of Erik’s hypotheses, but they’d only tested it on the smallest scale possible, not wanting Aviella to catch on. Still, every time Shizuku dove deep into her consciousness and came into contact with the faraway book, she felt certain she’d be able to do it. Her conviction had even motivated Lars to issue requests to other nations. Rubbing his stiff shoulders, Erik mused to himself. “It’s concerning that one of the books is still on another continent, but that’s a hard issue to deal with. We don’t know much about that continent.” “Yeah.” They needed to solve the problem of the rampaging witch first. Maybe the people of the faraway continent would sort things out for themselves, and maybe they wouldn’t. Either way, they couldn’t let themselves get distracted at the last minute and put their current mission in jeopardy. Shizuku picked up a sweet. “What will happen to this continent if we defeat the witch and destroy that book? Will everyone lose their ability to communicate?” “What we consider a disease today will probably become the norm. People who already know how to communicate won’t be affected, but future generations will have to learn how to do so. That’s normal in your world, isn’t it?” “Yeah. But still…” Lera came to mind. She’d mentioned her sister was about to have a child. She wasn’t alone, either. There were tons of people on the continent who were genuinely distressed by the disease their children were suffering from and wanted desperately to find a cure. When Shizuku thought of their hopes and desires, what she and her allies were doing—attempting to eliminate innate language altogether—seemed almost arrogant. Leaving the book intact wasn’t an option, though. When you controlled language, you controlled the way people thought. Destroying the book would cause confusion, misunderstandings, and disagreements, but that wasn’t all. It was sure to bring people freedom as well. Shizuku had no choice but to believe in humanity’s potential and keep going. Erik must have sensed Shizuku’s doubts from her expression. He put down his teacup and forced a smile. “Well, there’s always a chance my hypothesis about innate language is wrong,” he said. “Are you really gonna go there right now?!” “It’s obvious, though. My theory hasn’t been proven yet. You don’t need to get too worked up. Innate language might not disappear, even after we destroy the book.” Erik’s words were meant to reassure her, but he came across a little too strong. Shizuku felt slightly dubious, but the look on his face was just the same as it always was. Noticing her skeptical gaze, Erik turned away. “Anyway, you should get some rest. We leave early tomorrow morning.” “Rest…? I doubt I’ll be able to doze off.” Shizuku had spent the whole day rotating between sleep, wakefulness, and drowsiness. There was no way she’d be able to fall asleep. She could already picture Lars scolding her for being groggy the next day. Erik, however, just waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll put you to sleep. Your body won’t be able to cope otherwise.” “Wait, really? Yay!” With that, Shizuku’s worries vanished. After arranging for Erik to come back two hours later, Shizuku hurriedly got ready for the coming day. While Mea prepared a meal for them, Shizuku inspected the magic implements Leuticia had provided her with and set out the clothes she was going to wear. She usually wore skirts to help her blend in with the continent’s culture, but for the journey, she was planning to wear some capri pants she’d bought in Japan, figuring they’d be easier to move around in. Since part of her legs would be exposed, she paired them with some sturdy boots. She wondered whether the outfit would look strange, but even if she was going to be riding a horse, she didn’t have the strength to walk around in full armor. Before long, Mea brought over some pancakes and vegetable soup. Shizuku poured a generous helping of golden honey over the sweet-smelling, oval-shaped pancakes, while her assistant demon sat across from her holding a warm cup of milk. The pair of them had sat at the dining table together countless times before, but the thought that this simple, warm dinner might be the last one they enjoyed together brought back all kinds of different memories. “Mea, are you scared?” Shizuku asked. “No.” Mea’s instantaneous reply made Shizuku smile. She lifted a spoonful of the delicately sweet soup to her mouth. She was so blessed and content that it made her feel indebted to those around her. She’d been fortunate from the moment she was born. She wouldn’t have survived on the continent if not for that. Thanks to the blessings she’d received in this foreign world, she would be able to fight with pride. Her reckless decision might have seemed like it was “for the good of people” or “for the good of the world,” but Shizuku didn’t have any such lofty ideals in mind. It was her simple desire to stop innocent people from getting killed that drove her to take a stand. She let out a warm breath. “Where should we head after we get back? I’m done with snowy countries.” “I have heard that the blue ocean in the south is crystal clear.” “Wow, that sounds amazing! I haven’t gone swimming since I came to this world. Just waded in moats.” “There’s also a lake south of the castle city.” “I didn’t know that,” replied Shizuku. “Oh, I still haven’t gone to buy a new diary. We’ll have to go shopping when we get back.” As she talked about the future, Shizuku laughed out loud. It was times like this when she realized just how happy she truly was. These moments always warmed her heart—and yet, for some reason, they were also tinged with a little sadness. Erik returned to Shizuku’s room right on time. When he saw her, he frowned. She’d only just gotten out of the bath. “Why do you wear sleepwear in front of other people?” “Huh? They’re just pajamas. I’m about to go to sleep.” “True, but still…” Unlike Ortea, who often slept in nearly sheer clothing, the tops and bottoms that Shizuku wore to bed were made from sturdy cotton. They were practically no different from sportswear. Shizuku made no effort to hide the way she felt about the issue. Erik, meanwhile, let out a sigh. “Fine, I get it. This is just what people do in your world.” “Why do I feel like you’ve given up…?” She and Erik had been raised in different worlds. Their cultural differences were unlikely to be resolved. Shizuku tied up her hair, which she’d just dried, and lay down. Erik came and stood next to the bed. “I’ll take the book tonight, just to be on the safe side,” he said. “There’s no point in you getting woken up after I’ve deliberately put you to sleep.” “Thanks.” “All right. I’ll make sure you wake up two hours before we’re supposed to meet tomorrow morning. Is that all right with you?” “Yeah.” Erik nodded at Shizuku’s response. He started to chant but then stopped to say something else, seemingly having just remembered it. “Actually, are you able to get in touch with Lyshien?” “Huh? No. I don’t have her contact details.” Shizuku had no idea where the girl—a princess of a fallen kingdom—was, or what she was doing now. She just hoped she was living a peaceful, happy life. Erik nodded simply. “Oh. It doesn’t seem like that guy from Kisk knows, either. She must be keeping herself well hidden.” “Did you need something from her?” “Not in particular. I was just a little curious.” He made it sound like this was no big deal, but Erik was always thinking about the future. Maybe this conversation was significant in some way and he just hadn’t chosen to reveal his cards yet. Shizuku closed her eyes. Once her vision turned dark, memories from the past year came flooding back. “Thank you so much, Erik.” “I haven’t cast the spell yet.” “Not for that.” She wanted to use this quiet moment of tranquility they were sharing as an opportunity to say something important. Shizuku smiled, her eyes still shut. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the past year. I’ve been through a lot, and I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” Ever since back when she’d been crying in the dark library. When she’d come face-to-face with a forbidden spell in Candela. When Lars had almost killed her in Farsas. When she’d collapsed in Kisk. Shizuku didn’t know what would have become of her if Erik hadn’t been there to help her through it all. After all, he was the one who’d suggested they embark on a journey in the first place. He’d always been one step ahead of her, showing her the way through the vast continent. When she thought about everything they’d been through, she couldn’t help but want to say thank you. Shizuku’s words were followed by a short silence. Then Erik ruffled her bangs. “You made it this far because you refused to give up,” he said. His voice sounded gentler than usual to Shizuku. She had to stop herself from laughing. “The princess always got mad at me for being stubborn,” she said. “I feel like it’s my only strong point.” Still, she was fine with the person she’d become. Her refusal to back down and her reluctance to give up had gotten her to where she was. “Okay. Ready?” Erik resumed his incantation. The sound of his voice alone had a calming effect on her. She’d grown used to the feel of his fingers on her forehead, too. Shizuku breathed slowly in and out as she closed her eyes. When she woke up the next day, the fight would begin. She had no idea what would happen to her. As she was drifting out of consciousness, Shizuku got the urge to look into his eyes one more time and tried to open her own. Her eyelids refused to cooperate, though. They grew heavier, and she fell into a dreamless sleep before she had the chance to fight back. Hearing Shizuku’s restful breathing, Erik gently tugged on a lock of her black hair to check how deeply she was asleep. After making sure the magic had worked properly, he left her bedside and walked over to the bookshelf, where he took out a paper bag containing the rough drafts of Shizuku’s picture books. He took out a few of the manuscripts, then placed the envelope back on the shelf. Shizuku’s picture books were the main reason she’d been summoned to Medial. Under Erik’s instruction, most of them had already been collected. Naturally, he’d left the ones that weren’t problematic where they were, public and visible, but he couldn’t risk leaving any of the other drafts behind. Erik tucked them under his arm, alongside the navy-blue book. After ordering Mea to lock the door, he left the room without a sound. They all went to sleep early that night. The next day, everything would change. A new era was about to begin. Corpses didn’t rot in the frozen castle of the witch. They were devoured by demonic spirits before they even had the chance to decay, and whatever remained turned to dust and disappeared. The towering stone castle was hollow. Snowy gusts of wind blew straight through it, the walls so cold it seemed like they could freeze someone’s skin upon contact. Nobody was walking down its corridors. All that lingered in the air was the marked presence of death. Elzard sat upon his throne in the highest tower of the lifeless castle, his eyes closed. This castle was his own creation. As a result, he could perceive everything that happened inside it. Sensing someone taking their last breath on the lower floors, he sniffed disinterestedly. “How weak.” Aviella was fond of humans, but to Elzard, they were no different from flowers—fragile and easy to destroy. As living creatures, individuals, and a species that lived in groups, human beings had many different desires to juggle during their chaotically short lives. They were the most complex organisms that inhabited their realm, and yet there was nothing remarkable about them. Elzard, being a high-ranking demon, had only spent a few decades in their world. Despite this, he felt he already knew everything there was to know about humans. “Aviella,” he called out, conveying his boredom through his voice. But there was no reply. She was probably wandering around inside the castle somewhere. The woman who’d announced herself as a witch to the world often went down to the lower floors to hunt for trinkets. She collected things like human bones, swords, and worn-out accessories and hoarded them in her room. Elzard had never asked why she collected such junk. He didn’t understand her. Still, he got the vague impression that she wanted to “leave something behind.” When she ordered attacks on villages, she never killed all the humans. For some reason, she’d always leave one or two survivors. Elzard suspected this was like thinning a crop to ensure a larger harvest further down the line, but maybe there was a meaning behind her actions that he couldn’t comprehend. High-ranking demons had no blood ties. They couldn’t relate to the instinct to protect others. They existed exclusively as individuals and felt little kinship toward other members of their own kind. For this reason, Elzard occasionally found himself pondering a certain question. What was it that Aviella wanted to leave behind? The birds began to chirp, signaling the arrival of morning. It was dawn, the air crisp and silence all around. About thirty military officers and mages had gathered in the courtyard of Farsas Castle—a pitifully small squad, considering they were going up against the witch. They wouldn’t be fighting as a part of an army either, but as individuals. There were still so many unknowns, which made many members of the squad noticeably anxious. Yet none of them voiced their worries. Instead, they each checked their equipment as they waited to depart. Standing near the center of the group, Shizuku adjusted the two belts around her waist. One of the leather belts had a magical dagger in it, while the other was lined with small vials of potions. She’d woven her hair into a single braid to keep it from getting tangled, and she wore a cape with defensive and insulating magic woven into it over the top of her thick blouse and capri pants. The cape went down to her waist and had slits in it to allow her arms to move freely, but her hands remained hidden when she was standing normally. This meant the navy-blue book she was carrying wasn’t visible at first glance. Shizuku—the key to their tactic of information warfare in the coming battle—checked that her belt was securely fastened, then looked up. “This is way more nerve-racking than the university entrance exam.” “That strikes me as a rather odd comparison to make,” replied Leuticia, who was standing by Shizuku’s side in white mage’s clothing. It was the first time Shizuku had seen the renowned mage in combat attire. She gazed up at the princess admiringly. Leuticia wouldn’t be entering the witch’s castle on this occasion. She was going to open a teleportation gate, send the combat troops through it, and provide support until they’d infiltrated the castle. After that, she would go back to the fort in the north and issue commands to the military, waiting for the right moment to strike. Their strategy of having one royal sibling to support the combat troops and the other to support the military demonstrated how seriously the magic kingdom of Farsas was taking this. Here, being a royal meant dominating others on the battlefield. Shizuku shifted her gaze toward the armor-clad king standing opposite her. “You actually look pretty cool when you make an effort,” she quipped. “Committing treason this early in the morning?” Lars replied. “You’ve got some guts.” “I’d love to be able to respect you, but it seems to be beyond my capabilities. Sorry about that.” Lars had Akashia hanging from his waist, yet he wasn’t wearing full-body armor like he had in Kisk. Instead, he wore armor that covered only the vital areas, such as his chest. This was probably because of the cold climate, and the fact that he wouldn’t be fighting on horseback. As simple as his attire was, the wielder of the royal sword Akashia exuded an aura of authority. Thanks to the king’s presence, everyone was able to remain calm, even though their squad of just a few dozen people was going against a “witch”—a kind of being that had once instilled terror in the continent. The very definition of arrogance, Lars tapped Shizuku on the head and glanced at the man behind her. “If she and I stick together, the witch will read about us in her book. Once we get inside, we’ll have to go our separate ways. Make sure you look after her.” “Understood,” the man replied. As nerve-racking as the situation was, he sounded unruffled. Shizuku was secretly comforted by this. Her role wasn’t to fight the demons. Instead, she had to read about what their enemy was doing and avoid dying. Erik, who was serving as both her bodyguard and the head of communications, wore a black mage’s robe with a slender longsword at his waist. As usual, he didn’t seem particularly well armored. Apart from the sword, he looked the same as always. Their departure was imminent. Shizuku smiled at her assistant demon perched on her shoulder. “Ready to go?” she said, trying to keep the tension out of her voice as much as possible. Leuticia raised a hand, seemingly having picked up on Shizuku’s tone. This silent signal prompted everyone in the courtyard to look toward the king’s sister, and a space naturally opened up in the middle of the group. How many of them would make it to the witch alive? Would they manage to defeat her? The books didn’t contain those answers yet. They only had records of what had already happened. Shizuku clutched the navy-blue book in her arms as she watched the teleportation gate open. It was beautiful and felt far more intentional than the one she’d fallen into when she was first sucked into this new world. Helginis was cold, but Shizuku had expected that. She pressed her hands over her ears to shield them from the biting wind. “I should’ve looked for some earmuffs…” The thought had only crossed her mind after she’d been dumped in the snowy forest, and she shivered. Unlike last time, however, she was wearing a cape with defensive and insulation magic woven into it. Letting out a puff of white breath, she looked up at the towering rock faces that flanked her on both sides. “What a view,” she said. “It’s just a short distance up the mountain.” Their view was impeded by the rugged mountains, so the witch’s castle wasn’t visible from the narrow path they’d teleported onto. That said, even Shizuku could sense that the air felt murkier up ahead. According to Erik, the area around the castle was teeming with miasma generated by a magical device. This practically transformed it into a different world, making it impossible to teleport there using coordinates. The group began to quickly move along the snow-covered mountain path. The fact that there were already many footprints beneath their feet suggested that other people had gone to try to take down the witch of their own accord. Had those people made it out alive…? Shizuku was distracted by that thought for a moment—and the next thing she knew, she’d tripped on the snowy track below, causing her to lose her train of thought. Before her face could plunge into the snow, a man reached out to break her fall, an exasperated look on his face. “Make sure you watch your step.” “S-sorry.” She almost felt like a kid. Shizuku braced herself and carefully continued onward, paying attention to every step she took. After they’d ascended the gently curving mountain path for a short while, their view suddenly opened up, just as Erik had said. They stood at the end of the path that wound through the rugged mountains, staring ahead. It was where the gate to Helginis had stood six hundred years earlier. “This is…” The bizarre sight left everyone speechless. The air was heavy over the barren land stretching out before them. It was a dark, desolate area. In stark contrast to the mountain path that had led them there, there was no snow on the ground. The dry, black earth was frozen and as hard as stone, with neither grass nor trees. Only rocks lay scattered across the ground. The place felt as dingy and oppressive as nightfall, and it seemed eternally overcast. An icy wind swept up nearby snowflakes, blustering violently. A haze murkier than a dark cloud obscured the entire area, twisting and turning. The king looked up, scrutinizing the towering black castle at the center of it all. It was completely different from the castle that had once stood in Helginis. The witch’s castle rose into the sky, much like a tower. It was impossible to gauge how tall it was, as the top of the castle was masked by the miasma up above. Lars looked up at the black haze, his gaze as cold as the blowing wind. “Can you set up a demon-summoning prevention spell, Lettie?” “Not with all this miasma around,” Leuticia replied. “It would contaminate ordinary living beings if they stayed here too long. But then again, destroying the magical device that’s generating the miasma would throw off the power balance. This is a challenging set of circumstances.” The magical device that had transformed Helginis into the underworld consisted of five parts: four positioned at the corners of the region’s outer periphery and the core located inside the castle. Shizuku knew this from the knowledge she’d obtained from the books, but the conclusion was already apparent. The way things stood, destroying such an enormous device was practically impossible. If they managed to destroy the core at the center, the flow of power would weaken, allowing them to destroy the spell configurations in the north, south, east, and west. However, if they attempted to disrupt those spell configurations while the core was still active, the balance would crumble and blow away the entire surroundings. It wouldn’t just stop at Helginis, either; it would wipe out the entire northwestern part of the continent. Needless to say, nobody was suggesting they destroy the spell configurations from the outside. Leuticia looked at the miasma surrounding her with disgust. It drained humans both physically and mentally, but strengthened demonic spirits. Humans who were forced to fight inside the miasma were disadvantaged from the outset. Her brother, on the other hand, didn’t seem disappointed by his sister’s bitter response. “That’s a shame.” Lars took a confident step forward, moving from the snowy ground to the desolate field. The others followed his lead—when suddenly, a woman’s voice called out to the king from behind. “They’ve spotted us, Your Majesty.” “Oh yeah?” This news prompted the king to pull out his sword. It would probably take around five minutes to run toward the castle at full speed, but this was hard to gauge without anything to compare it to. Shizuku, hugging the book to her body beneath her cape, kept one eye closed to help her focus on what wasn’t there in front of her. Doing this allowed her to read the red book in Aviella’s possession. “They’re releasing demons to intercept us. Fifty or sixty of them, coming from the sky.” “Perfect—that’s two for each of us, then,” said the king. “Anyone who doesn’t take care of their share gets no dinner tonight.” “Wait, does that include me? That’s so unfair!” Shizuku protested. “Now go, give it your all!” said the king, blanking Shizuku out as efficiently as he always did. Shizuku kicked a stone in frustration, and just then, several black dots appeared in the sky. They were coming from the castle. The falling figures were getting closer by the second. One by one, the military officers drew their swords in response and chants began to overlap. The sight of the bizarre figures, each about twice the size of a person, made Shizuku freeze with nerves. Carrying the book under her left arm, she searched for the dagger at her waist—but she had no need to draw it. A fierce white light shot out from right beside the king. The caster hadn’t even recited an incantation. “…!” The powerful flash engulfed the approaching dark horde before any of them had the chance to dodge it. It was so bright that Shizuku automatically shut her eyes. A moment later, a heavy silence spread across the area. As Shizuku was cowering away in fear, unsure of what had happened, Erik tapped her on the shoulder. “You’re all right.” Shizuku cautiously opened her eyes, only to discover that all the demonic spirits had vanished from the sky. Instead, she heard Lars speaking in a tone that sounded far too laid-back. “Ah… Ease off a little, Lettie. None of us are getting any dinner now.” “Please stop spouting nonsense and get moving,” came the cold response of the only mage directly descended from the royal family. Leuticia was the most powerful woman in the magic kingdom, which already attracted swarms of mages. Having shown off her tremendous strength, she swept her long black hair aside and started striding ahead of her brother. “I won’t let anything so much as graze you until we reach the castle, Lars,” she stated, making no effort to conceal her strong emotions. Shizuku admiringly watched the princess walking ahead of her. She hugged the book beneath her cloak a little tighter. The book couldn’t help Shizuku track the witch’s thoughts. It didn’t reveal her every move in detail. The book simply recorded the witch’s decisions and actions after they’d had an impact on the battlefield. Usually, making a preemptive move would prove advantageous, but Shizuku could never get ahead of the witch. Instead, she mitigated the damage by taking advantage of the time between the witch’s making a decision and acting upon it. It was a dangerous tightrope to walk. And yet, it would also be a lifeline for the people fighting alongside her. “They’ve given up on intercepting us for now. The witch is activating several magical devices inside the castle.” “Oh.” Shizuku’s report came as the group arrived at the castle entrance, having just repelled the third wave of attacks. Stepping over the body of a demonic spirit he’d slain, Lars gazed up at the castle. “Can you tell what kind of devices they’re using?” “They seem like teleportation devices and traps of some kind. I don’t know any further details. They’ve unleashed demons inside the castle, too.” “Traps, huh?” The specifics of the plans were too elaborate for the book to detail every single one. All Shizuku could grasp was an outline of the actions the witch had taken to attack the king of Farsas. They’d just need to proceed carefully. The huge stone double doors that marked the entrance to the witch’s castle stood before them. The king came to a halt in front of the doorway and swept Akashia through the empty air—though it only looked empty to people who had no magical powers. There was actually some sort of spell configuration there. When Lars placed his hand on the thick stone door, it automatically began to open inward, making an unpleasant scraping noise. “Okay, Lettie, I’m heading in. You gonna be able to make it back alone?” “Of course. I should be able to teleport from outside,” his sister replied succinctly, stopping where she was. She watched her brother and his comrades step into the castle. How must she feel, sending her one and only brother into such a dangerous place? Shizuku only had sisters, so she found this simultaneously both easy and hard to imagine. When their eyes met, Leuticia smiled at her. “Good luck.” There was a flood of emotion behind those two simple words. Shizuku nodded, then started to walk forward, allowing the doors to close slowly behind her. A new sentence appeared on the last page of the book. It was short, only indicating that the sister of the king of Farsas had left. Aviella had the red book open, and she gave a slight smile. “Did the king order his sister to fall back? I was hoping they’d bring their best.” “Having her around would just complicate things,” commented Elzard. “That woman has a spirit under her command. It’s a nuisance when high-ranking demons have to fight each other.” Both the spirit that Leuticia commanded and Elzard were high-ranking demons. Aviella wasn’t sure if Elzard was stronger than the royal family’s mystical spirit, and Elzard didn’t seem to want to clear up her doubts on the matter, either. That said, she could sense a hint of competitiveness in his calm tone—something that caused the corners of her mouth to turn upward. “You sound rather intimidated. Are you sure you can beat Akashia?” she asked mockingly. “That will be no trouble. I’ll just target its wielder.” After making this declaration, the man on the throne closed his eyes. Perhaps he’d been planning on sleeping until she’d shown up. He’d lend Aviella a hand if she requested it, but otherwise he only stirred when the mood struck him. The witch closed the book and turned around, looking behind the throne. Her gaze settled on the large glassless window. Nothing but miasma could be seen through it. Six hundred years ago, when Helginis was still standing, the window would have overlooked breathtaking mountains beneath clear skies. Aviella felt a little disappointed that she couldn’t see that panorama. Despite this, she refused to show the weary disappointment on her face. She just smiled faintly. “It would be too dull an ending for me to be killed by the wielder of Akashia. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask the king of Farsas to leave.” Beyond the doorway, there was no corridor on the first floor of the castle. In fact, there was nothing there at all. A large open space took up the entire floor, with no furnishings in sight. The ground was covered with icy-cold stone, and the ceiling stretched high above them. The large hall could only be described as empty. Shizuku looked up at the ceiling, and Erik casually moved from walking beside Shizuku to behind her. He was probably worried she would forget to take her eyes off it and trip. While the group began to cautiously inspect the hall, Shizuku’s eyes remained fixed on the ceiling high at the top of the room, where the atrium ended. It was a dizzying sight. She almost lost her balance, but Erik had foreseen this situation and caught her just in time. As he steadied her, Shizuku noticed that the king, Lars, and Harve had come over. She gave them a nod. Lars also looked up at the incredibly high ceiling. “I presume the barrier’s core is above us,” he said. “Yes. It’s about halfway up. The witch and a high-ranking demon are on the top floor. The witch has the book with her.” “A witch and a high-ranking demon, huh? Well, I guess we’ll figure something out.” The king’s murmured remark put the people surrounding him on edge. Just a few days earlier, they’d seen Truce, the chief mage, get seriously injured by a high-ranking demon. He had been caught off guard, but he’d still almost been killed in the blink of an eye. Truce wasn’t with them this time but was instead helping to command the army. Lars glanced at his silent subjects. “Don’t fight battles you can’t win. Leave the witch and the high-ranking demon to me. Your task is to clear out the demonic spirits blocking our path. Oh, and we want to get rid of that red book, too. If it doesn’t look like you can destroy it, bring it to me, and I’ll take care of it with Akashia.” Apparently, the interlopers’ cursed artifacts were difficult to destroy. That was why Akashia, a weapon that could resist magic, was so important. Still, the fact that all the responsibility was falling on Lars’s shoulders worried Shizuku in more ways than one. The king was fiddling with a ring on his left hand. He usually never wore jewelry, so Shizuku suspected it was a magic implement of some sort. He took out his watch and shifted his gaze toward Shizuku. “It’s almost time. Can you do this?” “I’ll try.” Shizuku focused her consciousness and moved around the hall searching for a specific spot. She wasn’t entirely sure that she needed to line the coordinates up, but for some reason, it felt like the right approach. She didn’t have much time. After finally positioning herself at a point near the center of the hall, she closed her eyes. She tuned her consciousness to the book under her cape and the one far above her head, then reached out toward the distant book and waited for the right moment. She was about to implement another strategy that would help them fight Aviella. At the same time, elsewhere on the continent, eleven monarchs had gathered in a room inside Medial Castle, waiting for their time to come. The leaders of all the powerful nations on the continent had assembled under one roof. This included Queen Ortea of Kisk and King Dalas of Gandona—the leaders of two of the Great Nations—and of course King Vicas, who owned of the castle. It was rare for all of these leaders to be together in one place, but they’d done so for a specific purpose. The monarchs had been summoned at the request of Farsas, although they weren’t entirely convinced that they’d be able to drive away the witch. Only Ortea understood the true nature of the request. “It’s almost time…” Vicas’s words drew everyone’s eyes toward him. The sudden appearance of the witch’s castle in the unclaimed region neighboring Medial had driven the country into an unprecedented crisis. Despite this, Vicas sat calmly in the center of the room, embodying the composure of a king who’d been on the throne for many years. He glanced at the clock on the table. Its curved hand, powered by magic, followed a slow arc until it pointed toward the center. The designated time had arrived. The elderly king calmly began to speak. “The nation of Medial…declares war on the witch Aviella.” It had begun. The impact of this declaration flooded Shizuku’s mind like a muddy stream. Medial wasn’t the only country to suddenly declare war. King Dalas of Gandona casually raised his hand, a smile on his face. “As does Gandona. We will use our combined strength to eliminate the witch. Relics of the past should remain silent.” “I, Ortea Stiss Lyn Kisk, Queen of Kisk, hereby declare war on the witch.” “On this day, under my authority as king, Bestol declares that it shall wage war against the witch.” “Nadolas refuses to surrender to the witch. From this point forth, our nation shall wage war against her.” They were predetermined declarations issued at a predetermined time. And it didn’t just stop at these proclamations. The eleven monarchs issued one detailed instruction after another, deciding the formation and deployment of their armies. Although they were all in the same room, the kings and queens didn’t debate with one another. They paid no attention to the words of those around them, instead focusing on conveying their military strategies to their officials. These unusual commands filled the previously silent room with noise and commotion. Lars, who’d orchestrated the whole thing, laughed fearlessly inside the cold hall of the castle. “It goes without saying, but Farsas is declaring war as well. Just you wait—I’ll hang your head as a trophy.” Lars gazed up toward the highest floor, the royal sword that had once killed a witch in his hand. Beside him, Erik was keeping an eye on his surroundings as he held Shizuku up. Two books remained on the continent, each recording half of its history. These records were divided based on geography, with the events occurring in the territories covered by one of the books recorded in it. Even if both books were brought to the same place, the account of a region would still defer to the book originally responsible for it. Erik had discovered this rule of precedence when, during Shizuku’s disappearance, he’d checked the navy-blue book and noticed that no new records concerning Medial were appearing. However, while he’d been helping Shizuku practice connecting to the books, Erik had come to a realization. Two hundred and sixty-five years earlier, a war had taken place. It was a major historic event during which more than five nations started fighting one another on the same battlefield. And yet, the navy-blue book only mentioned four nations. It should have recorded everything up until that point for all of the countries that ended up on the battlefield, but a section of the most exciting part of the story was missing. Despite this, Shizuku had been able to extract the events of that time from the books without leaving anything out. At some point, part of the record must have strayed into the red book, discounting any rules regarding precedence. “Maybe…it overflowed. Like when you pour a lot of water into a tiny drain.” That was Shizuku’s comment on the missing entry, based on her connection with the books. It seemed that this turning point in history led to too much information being concentrated in one place, surpassing the book’s capacity to record it. Erik found this phenomenon fascinating, and he took her reasoning a step further. If you could make multiple turning points in the continent’s history occur simultaneously in the same place, there was a chance that you could override the prioritization rules and move the historical recordings to another book. Wondering whether they could cause this to happen on purpose, Erik had asked Shizuku a question: “If a disruption did occur in the recording process, would you be able to intervene and control where events are logged?” After contemplating this question for a moment, Shizuku confidently replied, “Yes.” Having heard her self-assured response, Erik had proposed a strategy to the king. The deluge of entries began. Shizuku, whose mind was linked to the book, was at the center of that storm. She waded through the information that was being swept past her by an intangible force and pulled it toward herself. She tried to stay conscious while she gathered as many entries as possible. The success of this experiment—to breach the information volume limit after bringing the two books closer together—depended on the extent to which she could reverse the book’s recording priorities. She’d extract the information that was overflowing into Aviella’s red book, and use that to gradually sequester the authority to record events from the entire area. To do this, Shizuku had to let her consciousness flow out of her and actively influence the books. Regardless of her connection to them, this challenge placed a huge burden on Shizuku’s psyche, and as her initial splitting headache subsided, she became increasingly detached from her sense of self. “…Ah! Ah…” “Shizuku.” Someone called out her name and placed their hand on her shoulder. Their voice and their touch reminded Shizuku that she had a physical form. It reminded her of who she was. She opened her eyes, shook her head—which had a sense of weightlessness to it—and exhaled. Erik was standing in front of Shizuku, and he looked intently at her. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Sorry. I’m fine.” Why did breathing make Shizuku remember her physical form? Maybe my breath is the embodiment of my soul, mused Shizuku. This fanciful idea brought a slight smile to her face. Then she closed her eyes and began sailing out into that invisible sea again. Her aim was to seize as much information as she could and wrest it away from the witch’s grasp. She wasn’t just fighting the witch, either—she was also fighting against the book. “…” They’d decided on five minutes. It had been determined beforehand that Shizuku’s spirit wouldn’t endure any more than that. Those five minutes felt painfully long, and when they were finally over, Shizuku collapsed into Erik’s arms. She looked up at the king, panting heavily. “How much did you get?” he asked, unsmiling. “Sixty percent. Sorry.” “That’s good enough.” In truth, Lars had hoped they’d be able to record every event in the area they were in, but Shizuku had reached her limit after only stealing sixty percent. She gave a frustrated smile, her forehead drenched in sweat. Even so, things were going reasonably well. From that point on, Aviella would only have access to forty percent of the information she’d previously been privy to. The division of the entries would occur at random, but the witch’s book would still record less than half of the information it had before. That was a huge difference from having everything laid bare. Plus, with Shizuku on their side, Farsas would also be able to know what was written in the red book. Lars nodded, satisfied, and glanced at the staircase against the wall that led to the upper floor. He beckoned Harve, his personal liaison, over to him, then addressed Shizuku and Erik. “Thanks for your hard work. You two should stay here. We’re heading up.” “Be careful, Your Majesty,” Shizuku said. “Don’t let all those stairs make your legs go wobbly.” “I’m actually a little worried about that,” replied the king. How many stairs would they have to climb before they reached the top floor? Shizuku secretly felt sorry for the people who were heading up there, but there was no changing the situation. After Shizuku had finally recovered from her dizziness, Erik helped her up. She straightened out her clothes and adjusted her grip on the book in her arms. At that moment, Shizuku thought she heard a woman laughing. “Watch out!” This sudden shout made Shizuku stumble. Erik immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her away from where she was standing. She had no idea what had happened. All Shizuku could do was run—and even then, she almost tripped on her own feet. She couldn’t even synchronize with the book. A heavy crashing sound echoed from behind her. The vibrations shaking the floor reminded her of an earthquake. Several people let out cries of astonishment, and everyone’s eyes were drawn toward the center of the room. When Erik let go of her, Shizuku also turned around to take a look. “Is that…a giant rock?” “Looks like it.” A massive boulder was lodged in the middle of the hall. Reminiscent of the tall mountains that could be found nearby, the sharp, pointed rock was at least as high as two or three grown adults. It seemed to have fallen from up high and pierced the floor. Fortunately, nobody had been crushed by it, but if any of them had failed to get away in time, they would have died. The people who’d fled to different corners of the hall glanced at the boulder, their faces pale. Lars frowned and looked up at the open space above them. “Is this the trap?” “No. This is just the beginning,” a woman’s voice cut in. Everyone immediately poised themselves for battle—but before they could do anything, the giant rock in the center shattered. “—!” Countless pieces of stone went flying in all directions. Shizuku instinctively covered her face with her hand, expecting the impact to hit her entire body. Erik stood in front of her to shield her. The next thing Shizuku knew, Erik had vanished without a trace. “Erik?!” she cried out. But an instant later, she was struck in the chest by a piece of stone…and disappeared. When Shizuku came to her senses, she was doubled over, coughing violently. Half-conscious, she rubbed the spot where the stone had hit her. She wasn’t injured, exactly, but it had hit her right on her windpipe. She choked back her coughing and scanned her surroundings with her watery eyes. She froze. “What…?” She wasn’t in the hall anymore. The walls and floor of the small room were cold and gray. She was in a room with no windows or furniture of any sort. She didn’t recognize it, but based on the chill in the air and the look of the walls, it was probably somewhere inside Helginis Castle. Still, there was no one else in the room. Erik, who’d been right by her side only seconds earlier, was nowhere to be seen. Once Shizuku recovered her senses, she lifted up her cloak and whispered into its inner pocket. “M-Mea. Are you there?” “I am.” Hearing the young girl’s voice, Shizuku let out a sigh of relief. Her decision to keep Mea in her pocket to shelter her from the cold had worked in her favor. The little bird jumped back on Shizuku’s shoulder and looked around the small room, analyzing the situation. “Each of those pieces of rock must have contained a teleportation spell. Anybody who was hit by one must have been teleported to a different location. The goal was to scatter us.” “It came totally out of the blue! We got duped!” Farsas’s fighting force was already small, and now, it had been divided even further. Plus, everyone seemed to be alone now. Shizuku was worried about the safety of the others, but she figured they were likely more concerned about her. After all, she was the weakest of them. Shizuku looked at the room’s only door and closed one eye, synchronizing her consciousness with the two books. “The king…is by himself. The book states that everyone else has been separated, but there are no more details. Can you sense anyone nearby, Mea?” “The miasma is too thick. These conditions make it impossible. I might be able to detect someone if we get a bit closer.” “I guess that means there isn’t anyone nearby…” Shizuku’s shoulders stooped dejectedly, but she knew she couldn’t afford to stay that way. The basic rule when you got lost was to wait in the spot where you’d last been with your companions, so Shizuku cautiously reached for the door, hoping to find the stairs that led back to the hall. She could see a wide hallway through the crack in the door. The long corridor curved gently, with gusts of cold wind blowing in through the windows that dotted it. Judging by the snowflakes carried on the breeze, it seemed likely that the hallway was part of the castle’s outer perimeter, or at the very least, above the atrium she’d gazed up at earlier. Once Shizuku had more or less gotten her bearings, she silently cracked open the door. She held her breath, listening out for any signs of life. The darkness of the corridor was undeniable. For better or for worse, there wasn’t any movement. Shizuku steeled herself and stepped out into the hallway. She deliberated over whether to turn right or left, but eventually decided to go right. Since both directions looked the same, it was essentially a gamble. She proceeded cautiously, constantly looking back over her shoulder. Once she lost sight of the door she’d emerged from, Shizuku whispered to the small bird on her shoulder. “It’s so dark, even though it’s morning.” “That’s because of the miasma,” Mea replied. “It doesn’t seem to affect you, though, Master.” “At times like this, being from another world comes in handy.” So far, the miasma wasn’t causing Shizuku any discomfort or making it hard to breathe. It had been the same in Candela. People suffered adverse psychological effects when they got too close, so she was grateful not to have that problem. That said, if anybody’s mind was vulnerable to external influences, it was Shizuku’s. She was connected to cursed artifacts that defied the conventional laws of magic, and she was using their power to her advantage. It was easier said than done, though. The role she’d been given brought with it the constant risk of losing herself. “Erik told me not to use the book when he’s not around…but where is he?” “He doesn’t seem to be nearby.” “Ugh.” Shizuku continued trudging down the hallway—but she came to an abrupt stop. In front of her was a dark mass, and she stared at it, frozen to the spot. “…What is that?” “Please be careful, master.” The darkness was in the center of the hallway, about the size of a horse lying down. Shizuku thought it must be reacting to their conversation, because it slowly began to stir. The mass deliberately unraveled itself, like a mountain collapsing bit by bit, until it had transformed into twenty separate things. These slippery, four-legged creatures looked like earless cats. The sight of their squashed eyes and fangs physically repulsed Shizuku, making her turn white. The creatures began to stagger toward her. “…Demonic spirits?” “It appears so,” Mea replied. “As someone from modern Japan, I’d really rather not be killed by creatures like that…” “—They’re coming.” If Shizuku wanted to avoid getting killed, she needed to take appropriate action. Taking Mea’s words as a cue, Shizuku spun around and sprinted back down the hallway. A powerful strike swung down at him from above. Erik leaped back to avoid the blow, which cut through the air and shattered the stone floor beneath him. Refusing to waste the opportunity created by the heavy swing, he used a short incantation to create two arrows. The flaming arrowheads arced through the air, piercing the grotesque figure in both eyes. The creature let out a shrill shriek of pain. Only the top half of it looked vaguely human, and the six limbs protruding from its soft abdomen thrashed around. “Now, now.” Erik quickly attempted to catch his breath, but the demon didn’t seem to hear him. No longer able to see, it let out an enraged roar and swung a thick arm in the wrong direction. Its fist slammed into the wall with a heavy thud, making a hole. Smashed pieces of stone scattered across the floor. When the demonic spirit realized that its enemy was elsewhere, it turned back around. “I can’t just leave it like this, can I?” Erik wanted to avoid using any excess magic, but leaving the demon where it was could endanger other passersby, so he recited another incantation, creating a spear out of air. His target was the center of its chest—where monsters like this often had their hearts. Erik didn’t need to pick up the spear. He locked onto the target using a magic spell alone. “—Strike.” The spear shot forward, digging deep into the demon’s swollen abdomen and skewering its oversized heart, just as Erik had predicted. The creature let out a shriek even shriller than the first, but Erik simply continued making incantations, his expression unchanged. “Burst.” The spear exploded inside the demonic spirit’s body. All six of its limbs blew off, and it collapsed in silence. Erik examined the strange creature, which had been reduced to just its upper torso. He’d only ever seen demonic spirits in books, so he was fascinated, but this wasn’t the time to let his curiosity get the better of him. He needed to find Shizuku, who’d gotten separated from him, and return to the first floor of the tower as soon as possible. “I just hope she isn’t using that book…” The book wasn’t something that should be used haphazardly—especially not by Shizuku. It might be necessary in an emergency, but once they’d defeated the witch, Erik would have to take it away from her and make her forget it ever existed. Some people would criticize him, calling it deceitful. Shizuku herself would probably be against it as well. Regardless, Erik had already made up his mind. “Okay, should I go up or down?” Annoyed, he brushed the hair out of his eyes, then began strolling down the castle corridor. His lone footsteps echoed faintly against the cold, dry stone and disappeared without a trace. The king looked down through the open space of the atrium, which cut through numerous floors, but there was no sign of anyone below him. All he could see was the remains of the giant boulder that had impaled the stone floor. Lars had also ended up alone, and he looked up at the ceiling above him. It was much closer than it had been just moments before. “It might’ve been nice if they’d sent me a little further up.” After the boulder shattered, he’d neutralized most of the debris flying toward him using Akashia. But seeing his underlings vanish one by one, struck by the pieces of rock, he’d lowered his sword and chosen to take the blow head-on. As a result, Lars had been teleported to a level of the atrium he’d been gazing up at. He was pleased he hadn’t had to walk to get here, but if they were going to teleport him anyway, he wished they’d sent him higher. “Oh well. I’ll just have to climb up myself,” the king muttered to himself. The only concern weighing on his mind seemed to be how high he still had to go. He went to walk over to the staircase—but something brought him to an abrupt halt. His mind keenly aware of where Akashia was, Lars turned directly toward the open space in the center of the atrium. A woman had suddenly appeared floating in the air. The king narrowed his eyes, and Aviella flashed him a bewitching smile. “Hello, wielder of Akashia,” she said. “Perhaps I should congratulate you on making it all the way here.” “It’s cold,” said Lars. “Invite me somewhere warmer next time.” “Oh yes, for someone from Farsas, it must be unbearable. It just so happens that this land was the easiest to transform into the underworld.” Floating out of the sword’s reach, the witch shrugged. It seemed like this was her real form, rather than an illusion, but Lars couldn’t attack her directly from the position he was in. He could’ve thrown Akashia at her if he was feeling reckless, but if she dodged it, he’d pay for the mistake with his life. The king glanced at the witch as he discreetly felt around for a throwing knife. “Pretty bold of you to call yourself a witch, don’t you think?” he said. “A proclamation like that gives the continent no choice but to take a strong stance. I hope you realize that.” As a direct descendant of the Farsasian royal family, Lars could sense the magnitude of magical power the witch had within her. As the wielder of the royal sword, he left all magic-related responsibilities to his sister, but he could still see spell configurations and magical energy. The king’s factual remark brought a smile to the woman’s face. She showed no sign of hesitation. “You can tell how much magical power I have, can’t you? I’d expect nothing less of a member of the Farsasian royal family. True, in terms of magical power, I’m nowhere near the level of other witches from history. But…I do have this.” Lars stared icily at the red book the witch had taken out. He knew it originated from outside their world, a fact the witch herself was still unaware of. “King. Don’t you want to know the secret history of the past? You can learn everything—what happened, what didn’t, what was forgotten, and what was covered up. Don’t make light of the past. This book is a treasure trove of countries’ dark secrets, geniuses’ plans, and forbidden spells.” To many, the witch’s words would have sounded tempting. This was a book that granted people power through knowledge. The witch boasted that she could conquer the continent using that book alone, dazzling those who heard her claims. And yet Lars, who knew the truth about the book, brushed her offer aside. He narrowed his blue eyes cynically. “Not interested. I know enough history.” “You only know a fraction of the history recounted in this book,” argued the witch. “There are so many facts you’re yet to uncover. Take this book and look down at the world around you, and only then will you see the weight of forgotten events of the past.” Over a thousand years had passed since the history of the continent began. How much had happened in that period? The witch whispered to the king, imploring him to look back on the parts of history that had been covered up or lost. She wasn’t just trying to deceive people. Lars could sense the passion in her words. He sneered derisively. “If we believe something never happened, then it didn’t. If you wish to get hung up on those irrelevant events, do it by yourself. Don’t drag other people into it. It’s just depressing.” His words were more cutting than mocking. They were sharp enough to silence Aviella and shut her off from her emotions. The king stared at the now expressionless woman. “You’re a failure of a witch. Were you just hoping to make a public show of the past?” Aviella had been manipulated by the observers’ tool. Was that the reason she’d announced the return of darkness and piled up a mountain of corpses? Did she use her book to rile people up, attempting to project her wishes onto them? Lars’s question was icier than their surroundings, and the witch smiled a little in response. Her reddish eyes wandered. “My wish is to make my mark on the history of the continent,” she said. “Don’t you want to go down in history, King?” “No thanks. The thought of being a king people talk about after his death makes my skin crawl.” “I’ll have to ask someone else, then,” responded Aviella. The witch vanished, leaving nothing more than a lighthearted laugh in her wake. Lars stared at the empty space. The king spent a short time trying to detect her presence in front of him, but once he’d realized she wasn’t coming back, he turned back around and headed for the stairs. Sharp fangs sank into the military officer’s right arm. This searing pain made him grit his teeth, and he kicked the demonic spirit that had bitten him in the chest. “Eeek!” The small, winged monkey rolled across the floor, shrieking. Despite the pain he was in, the man drew closer and swung his sword down toward the monkey’s head. Brain fluid spurted into the air. Its head split open, the monkey convulsed violently a few times before it stopped moving completely. “Is it down…?” Around the man lay dozens of similar-looking monkey corpses. After confirming that the last one was dead, he tore off a piece of fabric to stop the bleeding from his arm. Even after binding the wound, however, the dull pain only grew stronger. And if that wasn’t bad enough, it seemed the monkey had injected something into his bloodstream with its fangs, as a hot, numb feeling gradually spread through his arm. “Crap.” If he lost control of his dominant hand here, he’d end up dead. The man tried repeatedly to grip his sword, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. He looked around the empty hallway. He had no intention of dying here. That didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared for death, though. He’d take on the witch. The chances of him coming back alive were slim. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. Still, he was one of Farsas’s military officers, who fought for his country and acted as the king’s shield. That was why he hadn’t hesitated to take on this extremely dangerous mission. While he knew the king would be leading the charge, he didn’t see the point in being an officer if he didn’t accompany him. Only skilled, unmarried individuals had been selected, so the king must have exercised some degree of consideration. The sound of his sword falling to the ground resonated throughout the hallway. He looked down at his right hand, which had gone completely numb. The man heard a low growl coming from around the corner, likely another demon drawn by the stench of blood. Heavy footsteps came plodding toward him. “…Just my luck.” The man smiled bitterly as he picked up his sword with his left hand. He turned in the direction of the footsteps and readied his sword. There was no despair welling up inside him—only frustration. The last thing he saw in his final moments was a large set of jaws sinking its teeth into him. Even as he was being devoured, the man pierced the demon’s skull with the sword in his left hand. The face of his mother, who was awaiting his return, unaware of his fate, came rushing back to him…and he shut his eyes. Shizuku could sense multiple beings pursuing them from behind. The sound of licking lips was horrifyingly clear, intensified by the fact that these creatures made almost no sound as they moved. As Shizuku sped down the hallway, she issued a command to the small bird perched on her shoulder. “Mea! Take them out one at a time, starting with the closest!” “Understood.” The small bird did as her master said and released a burst of power. It struck the demon at the front, shattering its small head to pieces. Next, Mea took aim at the second demon. Shizuku refused to stop, even as all of this was going on. She kept her eyes fixed on the hallway in front of her, propelling herself forward with every step. She had multiple demons coming after her. If she stopped to attack them, they’d quickly surround her and take her down. With that in mind, Shizuku had opted to flee in the opposite direction. Her goal wasn’t merely to escape, though. She was doing this so Mea could defeat her enemies as she ran. And, as Shizuku had hoped, the number of demons chasing her gradually started to decrease. It seemed like they were moving at the same speed as her. They weren’t all going to catch up with her at the same time. As long as she kept running, there was a chance she’d get away unscathed. Just as Shizuku came to this conclusion, she spotted the door to the room she’d originally been in. “Ngh…” She made sure there were no creatures lurking on the stretch up to the door, but she couldn’t be sure what lay behind it. After quickly weighing things up in her head, Shizuku stopped running, considering the possibility of new foes emerging. “I’ll meet them head-on!” “Okay.” Shizuku drew her dagger and turned around. At that same moment, Mea blew away three of the demons at once, and Shizuku swung her dagger at another that had lunged unhesitatingly toward her. Having never wielded a sword before, all she could do was slash haphazardly in the air—but the magic-imbued blade cut into the creature’s face, effortlessly slicing its head in two. Shizuku made a face of disgust. It felt as if she’d sliced through tofu. Meanwhile, Mea had continued to decimate her foes. Shizuku stabbed the last remaining demon with her dagger and its small body vanished like mist. Silence returned to the hallway. Shizuku and Mea exchanged glances. “I guess…we won?” said Shizuku. “They were weirdly soft, weren’t they?” “It seems those demonic spirits were made to dispose of dead flesh.” “Ugh.” This idea made Shizuku’s skin crawl, but it helped her understand why they’d vanished so easily. They hadn’t been designed to fight living humans. Once she’d pulled herself together, Shizuku began making her way down the hallway again—but only moments later, she heard a beastly growl behind her. “…” The low growl shook her to her core. The presence she was sensing was undeniable. It felt more intimidating than the demons they’d just taken care of. Shizuku readjusted her grip on the dagger, her fingers stiff. She didn’t want to look behind her, but she needed to check what was there. She braced herself, then glanced over her shoulder. Her blood froze. “…No way.” White fangs. Red eyes. A massive body easily three times her size. There, standing behind her, was a demonic spirit that resembled a flesh-colored tiger. Its slimy skin glistened. Its eyes glowed crimson. Its fangs and claws, clear indicators of the beast’s carnivorous nature, made the blood drain from Shizuku’s face. “That’s a creature I wouldn’t want to deal with even if it were behind bars…,” she said, half trying to mask her fear. When the beast took a step forward, Shizuku automatically took a step back. “Can we beat this thing, Mea?” “This type of demon has a strong lifeforce,” Mea replied. “It’ll take a long time to kill.” “…Okay. Well, it’s worth a shot.” The beast was bigger than the monstrous black bird she’d encountered in Medial, but smaller than the serpent created by the forbidden curse. It wasn’t impossible to defeat. Shizuku placed her dagger in her belt for a moment, then took out a small bottle filled with magic potion. After a few whispered instructions to Mea positioned on top of her shoulder, Shizuku gave herself some advice. “Calm down…and move.” That was the most important thing. No matter how terrified she was, she couldn’t let her fear dull her instincts. That would be the death of her. As long as she moved calmly, she’d still stand a chance at surviving. Shizuku fixed her gaze on the demonic beast’s glowing red eyes. She refused to let any fear show on her face. If she did, it would see her as weak. She knew that. So she cautiously waited for the right moment. Waited for her enemy to make its move. There was no noise, neither from Shizuku nor the demon. Not even the sound of breathing. Shizuku gritted her teeth as she looked up at her foe. “Come at me.” The tiger demon sprang into the air. It leaped deliberately toward Shizuku, ready to tear the unarmed woman apart. To any onlooker, it simply would have looked like a predator capturing its prey. But just as its huge, slimy, flesh-colored body was about to reach Shizuku, Mea used her powers to restrain it in the air. Shizuku threw the small bottle at the tiger caught in her assistant demon’s barrier, and a pungent smell filled the air. The moment the magic disinfectant potion splashed on the beast’s face, it released a stench that would make anybody grimace—and it seemed to have an even stronger effect on the demon. A wail-like roar echoed around the hallway. “Mea! Aim for its eyes!” Shizuku shouted, taking out her dagger. At that moment, invisible rocks hit the demon in both eyes. The beast let out a roar of anger. Having lost its senses both of sight and of smell, the tiger waved its massive claws around chaotically, trying to bring down its enemy. By that time, however, Shizuku had already slipped past the demon and hidden behind it. Maintaining her distance, she kept her eyes glued to the giant body of the rampaging tiger. “Can you stop it, Mea?” “I’ll pin it down.” The small bird on Shizuku’s shoulder gathered her strength. Then she transformed that power into magical stakes that pierced the demon’s limbs one after another. Shizuku glanced at the beast, which was gradually losing its ability to move, then finally let out a sigh of relief. “I guess we managed after all, huh?” Mea continued her assault even as Shizuku was speaking, and a pool of thick blood began to spread across the floor. The flesh-colored tiger was being reduced to a mere lump of flesh. This grotesque sight was extremely hard to watch, but Shizuku bit her lip and maintained her firm glare. If she looked away now, it would show that her resolve wasn’t strong enough. Shizuku knew that wasn’t the case. She’d accepted the witch’s challenge and come to the castle of her own volition. She gripped the hilt of her dagger tightly. “Gra…aah…” The beast, which had initially been thrashing about in a frenzy to escape its restraints, grew weaker and weaker as more stakes pierced its body. At long last, its legs gave out, and the tiger collapsed to the ground. The stench of blood and flesh filled the air as Shizuku cautiously inspected the motionless creature. “Is it dead?” “Master!” At almost the exact moment that Mea issued her warning, the demonic beast launched its upper body into the air. The dying creature turned around and lunged at Shizuku. She jumped back, anticipating the impact, and resisted the urge to close her eyes. The next thing she knew, however, the tiger had been engulfed in flames in midair. Shizuku watched in astonishment as the fire spread across the beast’s entire body, turning it into a charred lump that fell to the ground. A man called out from behind her, sounding slightly short of breath, prompting her to turn around. “Are you okay, Shizuku?” “Harve!” The mage was wearing a friendly smile. At long last, Shizuku had been reunited with a familiar face after being separated from her comrades in enemy territory. Feeling a profound sense of relief, a smile finally crept across her face. “What a mess. We’ve all been split up. I only ended up on the floor below, but still…” “I wonder how many floors this castle has. If there’s one person on each floor, that’d be a nightmare…” According to Harve, there didn’t seem to be anyone else on this floor. The corridor that followed the outer perimeter of the castle formed a large circle, but it didn’t loop back around. It was shaped like a ring with a chunk cut out of it, with both ends leading to a staircase—one going up and one going down. This meant that if they wanted to go up or down the castle, they’d have to traverse the entirety of the circular corridor. “It’s like a badly designed department store,” Shizuku grumbled. As she and Harve were heading toward the stairs leading down, she glanced through the window. It should have been around noon, but the miasma-covered wasteland outside remained gloomy. I wonder how everyone else is doing, Shizuku thought. Then she brought up the only person whose location she could determine, thanks to her special abilities. “The king’s on his own, by the way. Should we check whether he’s safe?” “The king’s alone?! No, you shouldn’t be reading that book, Shizuku! Didn’t Erik warn you not to use its powers when you’re by yourself?” “Well, yeah…” Harve had been the first person to find intel concerning the red book. He was unaware that Shizuku was from another world, but he did know of the existence of the two strange books and that she was connected to them. On top of that, his friend had probably told him how dangerous they were. He gazed down at Shizuku with a look of admonition. “If you know the king is by himself, you must have used it already. That’s bad, Shizuku. You need to be careful.” “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to know what was going on…” “I can understand that. Just don’t do it again.” “Okay…” It felt like a waste not to use her ability, especially since she couldn’t be useful in any other way. In this case, though, Harve was right. Shizuku lowered her head, regretting how reckless she’d been. At that moment, however, another idea came to her. “I know! What if you read the book instead?” “Huh…?” “That’s right! When I read it, I can’t help but connect with the book, but you can just read it like any normal person would. About sixty percent of the information is being recorded in there, so if we’re lucky, it might even say what’s happening to the king!” Proud of her good idea, Shizuku offered Harve the book she’d been hiding beneath her cloak. Harve gazed down at the navy-blue cursed artifact, looking shocked. This book documented events that had been hidden from history. It might even contain information relevant to their current predicament. And yet, the man standing in front of the book made no effort to take it. He simply turned a little pale. Shizuku peered into his face, confused. “Harve? I don’t think it’s dangerous. Both Erik and Leuticia have read it before.” “O-oh…” Although it was a mysterious book, it was unlikely that reading it would negatively impact anyone but Shizuku. Harve reached out for the book, albeit hesitantly. However, as soon as his fingers brushed against the front cover…the space in front of him suddenly warped. It was the kind of distortion that occurred when a mage was teleporting somewhere. As soon as the pair spotted it, they assumed a defensive stance. They were prepared for whatever came their way. They wouldn’t have visited the castle otherwise. They were there for no other reason than to overpower the witch and take control of the books. But was that resolve really enough in their current situation? “Welcome, challengers, to my castle.” Shizuku stood frozen to the spot, not saying a word. She could hear her teeth chattering with fear. They didn’t even sound like her own. After the fall of Helginis brought the seven-hundred-year-long Dark Age to a close, an era known as the Age of Witches descended upon the continent. During this period, five women with tremendous power lurked in the shadows of history. Yet that too had come to an end around three hundred years prior, and it had long since become a distant fairy tale. In today’s day and age, “witches” only showed up in once-upon-a-time stories that children were told. Many even believed that their powers had been exaggerated. However, one day, a new witch appeared to sweep away the peace and declare war on the entire continent. The world was once again reminded of their fear. A period of change descended on the continent. This is the story of that transformation. “Oh, I haven’t introduced myself, have I? I’m Aviella, the Seventh Witch.” The tall woman smiled serenely, cloaked in a deep red robe. She looked more enchanting than beautiful. It was as though her charm radiated from within. When you looked into her eyes, it felt like you were peering into an abyss, and her gaze seemed like it could drain the thoughts of those who met it. Long silver hair framed her face, and her reddish-brown eyes were dark and inscrutable. She peered at the two of them in turn. It looked as if she was sizing up the challengers, and Shizuku couldn’t help but shudder. But somehow, this actually helped her to calm down. She cautiously glanced up at the witch, holding the navy-blue book with the blank cover close to her chest. “…Did you call us challengers?” Shizuku asked. “I did indeed. Challengers—humans who challenge a witch in the hopes of becoming ruler of the continent. In other words, you two.” Going by Aviella’s definition, neither of them were “challengers.” They were taking part in the mission to take down the witch because they were affiliated with Farsas, not because of any personal ambition. Still, neither Shizuku nor Harve were sure if it was wise to voice that truth so readily. Harve took a step forward, sheltering Shizuku with his body. “Becoming ruler of the continent, huh? That’s rather unrealistic. No human has ever achieved such a feat.” “Not yet,” replied Aviella. “It’s by no means impossible, though.” “Why don’t you assume that role yourself, then? Why do you want us to take over?” Harve asked the witch, cautiously trying to gather information. But Aviella simply smiled enigmatically in response. Her smile attracted Shizuku’s attention once again. The emotion displayed on her face seemed strangely familiar, but Shizuku couldn’t quite find the words to describe it, which frustrated her. The witch glanced at her perplexed visitors, her expression revealing a hint of mischief. “Do you think I’m deluded? That uniting the continent is impossible? Well, what if I told you there was something that could make it possible?” Her provocative tone made Shizuku’s eyes widen. It was clear she understood what Aviella was referring to. After all, Shizuku had a similar item in her possession. Shizuku had been using one of the omniscient books to find out about the recent past, but the true value of the book lay elsewhere. It also included detailed information about different countries, innumerable powerful spell diagrams, and records of political and military strategies devised by the geniuses of the Dark Age. Although this information was split between two books, the power they held was indisputable. With the help of those books, someone could uncover a nation’s weaknesses and blind spots, or exploit the forbidden curse spell diagrams they contained to cause havoc. The person in possession of the book could even plot a nation’s downfall from within without too much difficulty, as had once happened to Candela. Shizuku anxiously held her breath as these thoughts went through her mind. This could be my chance. If she could steal the red book right here and now, the witch’s advantage would weaken. By stopping any information from leaking to Aviella, Shizuku might even be able to put a stop to this assault and let the combined military might of the twelve nations take over instead. So, pretending to be both naïve and ambitious, Shizuku began to speak. “…Something like that really exists?” “Yes. Would you like to know more?” The red book appeared in the witch’s hand. Shizuku and Harve stared intently at its plain, unmarked cover. Still holding her own book against her chest with one arm, Shizuku cautiously extended her right hand. “I…would.” What if Shizuku managed to eliminate the red book right then and there? She didn’t waste any time thinking about what the witch would do to her afterward, but just focused on taking the book in front of her. Aviella noticed that Shizuku’s extended hand was trembling, and she smiled. “Your resolve is impressive… But it appears you’re not the only one interested in this book.” The witch looked over her shoulder as she spoke. Three roughly dressed men had appeared out of nowhere and were scrutinizing Shizuku and Harve with a mixture of curiosity and fear in their eyes. They weren’t from Farsas, which must mean they’d come to the castle individually after hearing the witch’s declaration of war—“challengers” in the sense that the witch defined it. Thinking back, Shizuku remembered that there had been footprints on that snowy path. She wasn’t sure whether these men had arrived before or after the squad from Farsas, but it was hardly surprising that there were other people in the tower. Shizuku looked up at Harve, uncertain how to deal with these strangers with swords hanging at their waists. The men were staring openly at Harve and Shizuku, their glares steady. Everybody but Aviella froze, unable to come to a decision. The witch, however, crushed their hesitancy with a dazzling smile. “Here you are—the book that can turn you into a ruler.” She casually tossed the red book into the air. It was like scattering sugar among a swarm of insects. One of the men started running as soon as the book left Aviella’s hand, causing Shizuku to start running, too. In an instant, several people’s motives collided. As the book was falling to the ground in front of Aviella—who was watching the chaos with a smile on her face—a young man with a sword at his side caught it. A split second later, however, he was knocked down by a spell from Harve, and Shizuku picked up the book that had fallen out of the man’s hand. “The girl’s got it!” “Mea!” A second man swung his sword down toward Shizuku, but before it hit her, the small bird used an invisible force to twist his arm backward. Shizuku heard the unpleasant sound of bones snapping, and the man let out a strange scream and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Paying no attention to the man’s suffering, Shizuku tossed the book behind her. At the same time that Harve caught the book, Shizuku grabbed a small bottle containing a magical potion. She hurled the bottle, filled with a green liquid, at the third man, who was charging toward her with an angry look on his face. The sound of shattering glass pierced the air, and the man began coughing violently. “Harve…!” Shizuku yelled, her voice trembling with anxiety. Burn it, she urged him. If he managed to do that, victory would be within their reach. They could put an end to the witch’s tyranny. This unexpected opportunity made Shizuku’s heart race. Her palms were soaked with sweat. But the man she’d called out to stood stock-still, staring blankly at the book in his hands. Harve was only dumbstruck for a few seconds, but it was still long enough for the witch to gracefully snatch the book out of his hands. Shizuku didn’t even get the chance to say anything. Holding the book under her arm again as if nothing had happened, Aviella flashed them a satisfied smile. “That’s it. Struggle. Push others aside. Aim for the top. Only those who have what it takes can reshape this continent.” Her voice sounded relaxed, but she was clearly trying to egg them on. With a lilting, high-pitched laugh, Aviella vanished from the scene, and the frenzied tension that had briefly filled the corridor was replaced by a chilling sense of desolation. Shizuku heaved a sigh, her sweat turning colder by the second. Their golden opportunity had come and gone in the blink of an eye. Harve looked down at his empty hands and muttered an apology. “I’m sorry, Shizuku…” “Harve.” “I’m so sorry…” The man let out a heavy sigh and held his head in his hands. The look on his face was more than just remorseful—it was filled with a deep sense of regret. Shizuku couldn’t bring herself to say a word. Shizuku and Harve worked together to restrain the men, then dragged them to a gap in the pillars. Shizuku didn’t want to be too rough, but they had swung their swords at her. She didn’t want to let them go and risk them fighting other people from Farsas. Harve sighed repeatedly as he helped Shizuku, seemingly weighed down by his earlier failure. When they started walking down the corridor again, Shizuku lowered her head apologetically. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot… It must have been tricky, getting told to burn that book all of a sudden.” “No…” Harve shook his head. A hint of self-derision flickered in his gloomy eyes. “To be honest, I considered not coming here at all. I had a feeling I might mess up like that.” “You…thought you might mess up?” “Yeah,” replied Harve. “To tell you the truth, ever since my mentor first told me about it…I’ve really wanted to read that book.” Shizuku’s wide-eyed expression brought a bittersweet smile to Harve’s face. For the first time, she’d caught a glimpse of the researcher’s lust for learning—something he usually kept hidden. Shizuku didn’t know how to respond. Harve turned his anguished gaze away. “His Majesty told me the book was dangerous… If it weren’t for that book, neither you nor His Majesty would have come to this dreaded castle. Yet when the time came to burn the book, I froze. I couldn’t help feeling like it was a waste. There are countless invaluable facts inside it.” As a history specialist, he must have been drawn to the tome from the first moment he heard about it, despite knowing it was forbidden. That also explained his hesitancy to take the navy-blue book when Shizuku had offered it to him. He hadn’t turned pale because he was frightened of the book itself, but because he knew he could become absorbed by it. Feeling like a lost cause, Harve let out another sigh of remorse. “The past is just the past—but when I heard there were hidden records in that book, I was struck by the desire to read them. What happened back then? What were people thinking and doing? How did people shape the times they lived in? …Sorry. I know this isn’t the time.” “No… I get it,” replied Shizuku. She knew this was no time to let academic curiosity take over, but Shizuku understood how he felt. That desire to know also overwhelmed her at times. It was a temptation that followed people around like a devil on their shoulder, sometimes aiding their growth and sometimes leading to their demise. It was hard to reprimand someone for experiencing such a characteristically human phenomenon. Or at least, Shizuku couldn’t bring herself to do so. She stretched wide to clear her head, then smiled at Harve. “I think it was for the best. If we burned the book, both of us would have been killed. I’m sorry for being so reckless.” “Don’t apologize…” Harve shook his head, his expression too bitter to write off as bittersweet. At that moment, an unexpected scream came from behind them. “Huh?” Shizuku turned around in a panic. The man they’d just tied up was now dead with a stab wound in his chest. Next to him, another restrained man was lying face down. Shizuku watched in disbelief as these living people were turned into corpses. Before she could intervene, the last man’s throat was slit with a dagger. The attack was executed with magnificent skill. The series of actions that had just played out proved that the culprit had no qualms about killing people who were unable to move. Realization hit Shizuku even before the fear did. She’d known the murderer’s face for a long time now. “…What are you doing here?” “You again?” Their first encounter had happened in a sea of blood. In their second encounter, he’d pointed a sword at her. And now, for their third encounter, she’d met the boy in a witch’s castle. Being able to communicate with someone didn’t necessarily mean that you would understand each other. The person who’d taught her this lesson better than anyone else, Kaito Dicis, lightly swung his bloodstained sword and glared at Shizuku, a glint of discomfort in his eyes. No two people had left worse impressions on each other than Shizuku and Kaito. Even calling it a “bad impression” was an understatement. Shizuku glanced at the boy standing further down the corridor, feeling a cold sweat run down her back. Kaito resheathed his longsword and slowly made his way toward her, holding only a dagger. As Shizuku was wondering whether to fight or flee, Harve asked her a question. “Do you know him?” “I guess you could say we’re acquaintances… He’s a mercenary. A pretty dangerous character.” “I thought as much.” After all, he’d appeared out of nowhere and killed every one of the restrained men in the blink of an eye. After that, even if Shizuku claimed he was an even-tempered guy, nobody would believe her. Shizuku hesitated, then raised her hands to bring Kaito to a halt. “Wait a minute. I want to talk.” “What about? I don’t think we have anything to discuss.” “I have something I want to ask you,” Shizuku countered. “Why are you here?” Despite all his faults, Kaito wasn’t the type of person who’d claim he wanted to become the ruler of the continent. He must have come to the castle for a job. If that was the case, the timing couldn’t have been worse. Shizuku wished he could have waited just one more day. The boy frowned at the question. “What do you mean? Haven’t you heard? About an hour ago, the witch visited several different towns and invited people here. She told them that if they defeated their rivals and the demonic spirits and reached the top of the castle, they could become the ruler of the continent. Almost two hundred people with way too much confidence in their abilities entered the witch’s teleportation gates and came here, but most of them died on the first floor. They ended up cutting each other down as soon as they arrived. The rest of them got scattered around the castle after stepping on teleportation traps or something.” “Ugh…” That must have happened right after Shizuku and her comrades were split up. Why would the witch invite challengers to the castle when it had already been infiltrated by a squad from Farsas? She must have wanted to incite a conflict among humans—both those who had lofty ambitions and those who didn’t. Aviella was adding more pieces to the board and reveling in the ensuing conflict, in the same way that she’d incited a fight between Shizuku, Harve, and the men she’d invited over. Aviella was probably hoping that the people of Farsas would get confused and loosen their grip, but Lars, for one, wouldn’t even bat an eyelid. It didn’t matter whether he had a human or a demonic spirit obstructing his path—he’d nonchalantly cut them down if they got in his way. Imagining such a scene made Shizuku’s head hurt. At that moment, Kaito hurled a cold comment her way. “So what brings you here? You weren’t driven by your incomprehensible sense of justice again, were you?” “I’m here for work,” said Shizuku. “Are you hoping to rule the continent, too?” “Not really,” Kaito replied. “I just heard there’d be a massive bloodbath.” This response was so predictable that it left Shizuku speechless. It was the third time their paths had crossed, so Shizuku already knew they struggled to understand each other and she didn’t want to get into a fight with him straight away. When he saw the troubled look on her face, the boy’s scowl deepened. “What’s your problem? Are you going to criticize me again? You’re such a pain in the ass. You pretend not to see the things that you should be able to understand if you just thought about it, then lecture other people. It’s painful to watch.” “What…?” “Judging by your reaction, it was you and your buddy who injured those three men. You broke their sword arms, restrained them, and left them there. You basically fed them to the demons. Wouldn’t it have been kinder just to kill them? You only refuse to get your hands dirty when it bothers you, so I don’t want to hear you complaining about me.” The boy’s rapid-fire criticism wasn’t entirely off the mark. Shizuku stood there staring at Kaito, speechless. The castle was overrun by demons. Restraining people who were unable to defend themselves was cruel. She should have realized that. After all, she had no powers of her own. She knew full well what would happen if she was unable to escape from a perilous situation. And yet, Kaito was right. She hadn’t fully considered the consequences. Shizuku hadn’t hesitated to order Mea to attack other humans, either. Having come to this realization, she hung her head in shame. “I…” Shizuku had refused when Erik suggested she arm herself at the start of her journey. She hadn’t wanted to hurt other people just to get where she wanted. Somewhere along the way, however, she’d started to view that as an inevitability. She could find any number of ways to justify her actions—that her opponent attacked first, or that she and her companions were fighting for a nobler cause—but when Kaito pointed out this subconscious change that had gone on inside her, it left her tongue-tied. Had she become desensitized to death, or grown too accustomed to conflict? Either way, Shizuku had changed without even realizing it. As she stood there in a daze, Harve placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t listen to him. If we hadn’t done that, they would’ve attacked us again.” “That’s true,” commented Kaito. “If I were in your shoes, I would’ve killed them right away. The problem with you is you’re always so preachy. You’re fine with the idea of being killed, but you never consider what it means to kill someone else. But what sort of resolve do you need to be killed? If someone’s gonna kill you, then that’s that. Anyone can be killed; it doesn’t matter if they’re mentally prepared.” People die when they die, whether they’re ready for it or not. Death comes for everyone. It doesn’t pick and choose. So then what sort of “resolve” created such inequality? “I’ve had enough of your romanticism. It doesn’t get you anywhere and you know it. So if you still want to keep living in ignorance…then just get out of here.” Kaito’s arguments flowed effortlessly from his lips, as if they’d been simmering inside him for a long time. Perhaps he’d been preparing for the opportunity to say this to her since their last meeting. Shizuku watched the boy in wide-eyed amazement as he came out with one irritating remark after the other. During their second encounter, in Kisk, he’d touched a nerve by pointing out how little Shizuku valued her own life. Once again, his words had targeted parts of her character that hadn’t fully formed, and a cold, water-like sensation had permeated her to her core. Shizuku took a hard look at herself. She was mentally prepared. She’d resolved herself to fight and to die. Still, had she really accepted the idea of dirtying her own hands? What did defeating the witch and eliminating those who stood in her way actually entail? She’d never wielded power of her own. Did she truly understand what it meant to attack someone? She didn’t want to become desensitized. These were human lives she was dealing with. Shizuku closed her eyes. She only kept them shut for a moment, but it was long enough. Shizuku let out a long sigh and looked ahead. Staring straight at the boy who’d been facing her all that time, she lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been naïve.” “Shizuku?!” Harve gasped. Kaito appeared similarly surprised. He hadn’t expected her to respond like that. He looked at Shizuku, his mouth hanging open. Then Shizuku looked up and continued to speak. “You’re right—I was being ignorant. Thank you for pointing that out to me.” If Kaito hadn’t said that to her, she would have continued to remain oblivious. One day, she might have unknowingly found herself wielding power and gradually losing control. If this encounter had saved her from that fate, then it was a stroke of good luck. Yet there was one point she wasn’t prepared to concede. “Still, I don’t want to kill people if I can avoid it. I’ll take up a weapon to fight, but not to kill. And as for you…” Shizuku glanced at the dead bodies lying on the ground behind Kaito. For a moment, a heavy wave of regret tightened her throat. It was her fault they were dead. Kaito had only killed them because she’d been so obtuse. No matter what anyone said, that was the truth. She’d probably never be able to forget it—just like the time she’d failed to save the woman whose soul had been extracted from her body, and all the other deaths she’d witnessed during her journey. Shizuku would bear the weight of her failures for the rest of her life. Everyone she’d encountered was living their lives with that same sense of acceptance. “I can’t approve of your actions, either. If you can avoid killing someone, then you should.” “Oh yeah? Now what?” “I want you…to work with me.” Shizuku’s words made both men fall silent. It was as though she’d dropped water into boiling oil, and both Kaito’s and Harve’s jaws dropped in astonishment at the sudden about-face. Shizuku could sense the shock in the air, but she didn’t flinch. She refused to look away. She had no intention of retracting her statement. From this point forward, there would be no turning back. “…Huh?” After a couple of seconds, Kaito came out of his trance and curled his lip in annoyance. He tilted his head to the side, looking at Shizuku. “Work with you? Are you stupid? I’ve had my suspicions for a while, but this confirms how dumb you actually are.” “People call me stupid all the time, but you’re getting on my nerves,” Shizuku snapped back. “Anyway, you’re a mercenary, right? I’ll hire you.” “Huh? Do you even have the money to pay me? I don’t come cheap, you know.” “Just give me a price.” Shizuku didn’t want to boast, but she did have a decent amount of money saved up. During her four months working in Kisk, Ortea had paid her a reasonably high wage, and her earnings had been transferred over to Farsas at the queen’s request. Since she lived in the castle, her food and board were guaranteed, and she wasn’t the type of person to waste money, so she’d hardly spent any of it. She’d only really used it to buy ingredients to make sweets for Erik, and even then, it was only a tiny amount. Shizuku’s proposal seemed to have come as a total surprise to Kaito because, while his expression was sour, he still told her how much he charged per day. Shizuku didn’t know the market rates, so it was hard to tell if it was cheap or expensive, but she could easily afford it. A sense of relief washed over her. “Oh, that’s doable. In that case, I’d like to hire you for the day.” “You’re serious?” Kaito asked. “You’ll have to pay me up front.” “Huh? I don’t have any money on me right now… I’d have to go back to the castle.” The boy silently reached for his longsword, and Shizuku quickly waved her hands in protest. “Aaah, wait! I swear I’ll pay you later! I’ll even give you a fifty percent bonus!” “…Why are you so desperate?” Shizuku countered Kaito’s contemptuous gaze with a bittersweet smile. It was obvious that he didn’t understand. “I don’t want to get killed, and I don’t want to kill anyone—but I have things I need to do. That’s why I need your help.” Her ideals were probably nothing more than ideals. She couldn’t turn them into a reality, just like how she couldn’t change someone who didn’t understand her. Still, just for the time being, she wanted to ask for a little compromise. She needed to lay out her conditions and reach an agreement with Kaito. She could wait until then to pick up a sword. They could each follow what the other was saying, even if they couldn’t fully understand each other’s perspectives. Kaito glared at Shizuku, his face the very picture of dissatisfaction. As Harve began to silently assemble a spell, Kaito barked a curt demand. “Double. If you’re paying after the job, you’ll have to pay me double. If not, you can forget it.” “Okay then. I’ll pay double.” Shizuku nodded, then turned to Harve. “If I die, please make sure to pay him with my money.” “I’ll make sure of it,” the mage replied. Although he looked perplexed, he made his intention to pay Kaito clear verbally. The sulky-looking boy tutted loudly, then moved to stand in front of Shizuku. She looked up at him with a wry smile on her face. He was a little taller than her. “Thanks for helping us out today. Uhh… Can I get your name?” Though she’d met him some time ago, Shizuku realized she didn’t know his name. They’d run into each other twice before now, and although they’d clashed fiercely, they’d never introduced themselves. If they hadn’t run into each other again, she might have gone her whole life without knowing his name. The boy reluctantly introduced himself. “Kaito. Kaito Dicis.” “Okay, Kaito. Oh, this guy’s name is Harve. And I’m—” “Shizuku. Tarkis already told me your name.” Shizuku was slightly taken aback that he already knew, but she quickly gave him a wry smile and murmured, “I see.” She didn’t want to kill anyone. She didn’t want to make anyone else kill people, either. At that point in time, however, a huge number of people were being killed throughout the continent. That’s why Shizuku decided to fight. Would she be able to do what needed to be done when the crucial moment arrived? Would she falter in the moment, just as Harve had hesitated to burn the book? Once again, Shizuku began to contemplate the possibilities that lay ahead. If she found herself in a position where she could kill the witch…what would she do? The mountains were covered in miasma. As the mage examined the castle towering in the distance, he couldn’t help shuddering. He could sense that the number of demonic spirits was gradually increasing. Leuticia had erected detection barriers in the Helginis region, which the mage was using to gather intelligence on the movements of their enemy. Touching the detection barrier, the mage glanced at his colleague next to him. “This…doesn’t look good. They’re summoning a huge horde of demonic spirits.” “A ‘huge horde’? How many, exactly?” “Tens of thousands, at least? Maybe they’re planning on setting them against the army.” Under Leuticia’s command, Farsas was planning to mobilize its forces to attack the castle. Perhaps the witch had figured that out and was planning to unleash this horde of demons against them. The men recalled how Medial’s army had been routed in a similar manner. “Contact Her Highness.” As the men hurriedly established communication with Leuticia, the number of entities around the castle continued to rise. As far away as they were, they could see numerous dark figures soaring through the sky, their harsh cries carried by the wind. It was a gloomy, apocalyptic sight. There was no mercy, only despair in the air. The sun didn’t shine on this dark corner of the continent. The otherworldly stagnation rejected purification of any form. In the center of it all was the castle—its silence unbroken, as if it stood there alone belonging to no one. Shizuku stuck her head out of the window. The ground below looked incredibly far away. If I jumped from here, I’d definitely end up in pieces, Shizuku thought flippantly. The area was shrouded in darkness as far as the eye could see, and the air was stale. As she gazed at the mountains in the distance, she heard a loud flapping sound directly above her and instinctively cowered away. When Shizuku cautiously looked up, she spotted bizarre-looking monsters flying through the skies above. There were hundreds of them, at least. The peculiar cries emitted by the swarm of demonic spirits made her hurriedly pull her head back inside. If she’d spotted that many with just a quick glance, how many had been summoned altogether? If all of these demonic spirits attacked the castle at once, the whole place would probably crumble. Just envisioning it made Shizuku feel completely discouraged. She let out a sigh and shifted her gaze back to the hallway, where Harve appeared puzzled. “Did you see something?” “Uh…yeah. The sky looks crazy right now. The whole thing’s pitch black.” “Ah. Because of the miasma?” “No—because it’s full of demonic spirits. A huge swarm of them has appeared.” Shizuku laughed dryly as she began walking down the corridor. Kaito, who’d gone mostly silent, followed after her. Harve, the last to walk away, glanced back at the window as he stepped over the corpse of a demonic spirit on the floor. The lizard-like demon, roughly the size of a large dog, had been decapitated and lay completely motionless. The trio kept out of its way, trying not to step in the pool of green blood spreading across the stone floor. While more people had been summoned to the castle by the witch, the goal of Shizuku and her allies remained the same. There were several tasks they had to complete: defeat Aviella, kill the high-ranking demon, and get rid of the book. There was no way the three of them could accomplish all of this alone, however. The trio’s immediate goal was to meet up with others who shared their goals and rework the plan. As they headed toward the stairs, Shizuku turned back to Kaito. “Do you think the first floor is dangerous right now? I was considering heading there.” “I dunno whether it’s dangerous, but there are loads of dead bodies there,” the mercenary replied. “Oh, and demonic spirits have gathered there to feed on the corpses.” “Okay. That’s out of the question, then.” Corpses were one thing, but if demonic spirits were gathering there, it was practically a deathtrap. They needed to find another place to regroup. Teleportation traps aside, the castle’s design forced everyone to use the same stairways and corridors to get around, so the chances of them and their allies missing one another were practically nonexistent. For the time being, the trio had decided to head for the nearest staircase and check on the situation, so they continued to trudge down the hallway in silence. From time to time, they could hear ground-shaking explosions in the distance, which made Shizuku cower in fear. “What’s that noise? It’s been going on for a while now. Are they firing cannons or something?” “Hmm. I think someone’s casting some pretty powerful magic.” “What if the castle collapses? This place was built so quickly, I feel like they must’ve cut corners with the construction.” “I doubt it’ll collapse… There’s a spell that can build a place like this. There aren’t many mages left who can use it, though, so it’s a technique that’s been lost.” “Spells can get lost, even though they’re magic? Don’t people pass them down to their successors?” “Not every technique can be learned. And besides, construction magic was mostly used during the Dark Age. The culture of teaching magic to others didn’t really exist back then. People didn’t want their techniques to fall into the wrong hands.” “Sounds like a harsh world…” Shizuku and Harve enjoyed their absent-minded conversation as they walked down the corridor. Eventually, they reached the staircase. It was there that they discovered the reason behind the explosions they’d heard. “Whoa…” There was a massive hole in the wall, large enough for two or three grown adults to pass through. The hole had been made through the end of the staircase, providing a shortcut between the stairs going up and going down, which weren’t meant to be connected. “That’s a pretty aggressive way of making a shortcut…” No upstanding individual would destroy a wall just to create a convenient passageway—but both Shizuku and Harve knew who might have come up with such an idea. They exchanged weary looks. “The king did this, didn’t he?” “It definitely seems that way. His Majesty can’t use magic, though.” “Then he must’ve had a mage do it for him.” “That’s quite likely.” It should have been an ordinary upward staircase, but now, behind it, they could also see the stairs going down. Shizuku wondered whether there was also a hole connecting to the floor above them, but it was impossible to tell from where she was standing. Shizuku placed her foot on the first step, but Kaito stopped her. “I’ll go first. I can hear somebody.” “Huh? Really? I can’t hear a thing.” “You probably just have terrible hearing.” Shizuku responded to Kaito’s barbed reply with a calm reminder. “If it’s a person, don’t kill them.” Kaito tutted back at her. It didn’t sound like he had a counterargument. The three of them cautiously ascended the stairs. When Kaito was just two steps from the top, he turned around and nimbly jumped into the air, vanishing from sight. There must have been another hole there. After a moment, a voice echoed from above. “It’s fine. Come on up.” If Shizuku had been alone, she never would have managed to jump diagonally from the middle of the staircase to the hole. Luckily, though, Mea was there to assist her. The trio climbed three floors, moving between the holes. Gradually, Shizuku started to hear voices arguing. “If you…then…!” “That’s just…!” “You guys are…!” There weren’t just two or three people involved: Shizuku could hear at least a dozen voices. They sounded angry, which made Shizuku and Harve turn pale. A confrontation was almost certainly imminent, so they hurried up the stairs. The argument in question was taking place at the foot of the stairs two floors above. When Shizuku peeked through the hole, she spotted two groups of men with their swords drawn, engaged in a fierce argument. The tense atmosphere suggested that a swordfight could break out at any moment. The two groups were hurling insults at one another, criticizing each other’s attitudes. As far as Shizuku could tell, one was made up of people from Farsas, while the other consisted of people from elsewhere. They must have been drawn over by the shouting voices, which could be heard from other floors. Shizuku was just relieved to see more than a dozen military officers and mages from Farsas together. She’d assumed they’d been separated. One of the sword-wielding military officers spotted the three of them and smiled. “You’re safe.” “Luckily,” replied Shizuku. “What happened here?” Shizuku had heard snippets of the argument, but she still had no idea what was going on. The officer explained the situation in broad terms. It had started when somebody broke the staircase, creating a passageway straight through. Some challengers came up through the hole and ran into the officers from Farsas, which nearly devolved into a scuffle. The people from Farsas had tried to push them back, saying, “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous. You need to leave,” while the guests invited by the witch had criticized the Farsasian officers, accusing Farsas of trying to steal the book that could make them king. The argument escalated to the point where swords had been drawn on both sides, but a mage from Farsas had cast a barrier to keep the challengers at bay. One of the witch’s more cool-headed guests had managed to keep the others in check, and they’d sheathed their swords and gone back to merely arguing. Even so, it didn’t seem like the conflict was going to die down any time soon. “Ugh…,” groaned Shizuku. “This really isn’t the time for silly arguments.” “Should I kill them?” asked Kaito. “It won’t take long.” “Wait, okay? Just wait!” Shizuku said, holding Kaito back. If he killed the challengers, it would defeat the point of Shizuku hiring him. As she worried about how to resolve the situation, a man who looked like a mercenary turned his glare on Shizuku. It seemed he’d overheard their unsettling conversation. “What was that? What’d you just say?” “I was suggesting that I kill you. There’s no better way to deal with irritating small fry like you.” “Aghhh, this is getting worse by the second!” Shizuku cried out. They weren’t simply on the verge of conflict any longer—Kaito’s remark had the potential to plunge them straight into the thick of it. If his words ignited a battle, Shizuku would be the one to blame. There was no fighting that—after all, she was the person responsible. She’d played right into the hands of the witch, who was trying to make people fight one another. To Shizuku’s surprise, however, the mercenary turned pale. “You’re…Kaito Dicis.” “That’s right. What of it? Which of you wants to be killed first?” “H-hang on.” “I said wait!” The other mercenary and Shizuku yelled at Kaito in unison, making him click his tongue in annoyance. Their voices attracted the attention of the people around them. Shizuku bit her lip, frustrated. The situation couldn’t have been any more infuriating. Now was not the time. Outside, demonic spirits were being summoned in huge numbers. Humans shouldn’t be fighting among themselves. If the witch’s trick was to shake people up and manipulate them, then they needed to do the opposite. Shizuku would use her words to change the situation. She put on a serious expression and looked around at the other people. “Excuse me, but it seems as though there’s been a misunderstanding. That book can’t make you a ruler. It’s just a magic implement.” “What are you on about? The witch said it contained spell diagrams for forbidden curses!” The same man who’d been frightened by Kaito seemed to believe that Shizuku—a woman who looked younger than her years—was easy to intimidate. He scowled at her threateningly, but Shizuku just shook her head. “It doesn’t. That book is a cursed artifact that eats away at people’s minds. We’re planning to destroy it as part of our mission here to take down the witch. Remember the incident at Candela Castle, where people who worked at the castle ended up fighting each other and causing widespread destruction? The witch’s book played a role in that chaos. She was one of the people behind the Candela incident, and Farsas has been looking for her ever since.” Not all of that was true, exactly, but the core of it was fact. It was crucial that Shizuku made the zealous challengers question whether they’d been deceived. Weaving some real-life events into her narrative raised the likelihood of them realizing the witch’s lies. As it turned out, many of them seemed to know about the incident in Candela. It had caused a considerable uproar. Several of them frowned and began whispering among themselves. Shizuku continued, her expression somewhat troubled. “First of all, if the book could really make someone a ruler, why wouldn’t the witch keep it for herself instead of telling everyone about it?” Why would she reveal that such a book existed? She was clearly just trying to give people a reason to fight. “You were all invited here after our squad from Farsas entered the castle. She’s probably trying to manipulate you into killing us. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but what she said about that book turning you into a ruler is a lie. If you get your hands on it, it’ll drive you insane and turn you into a source of power for the witch. For example, do you all know how this castle was built?” The hallway instantly fell silent. After a moment, one swordsman who was yet to speak answered Shizuku’s question. He spoke in a quiet voice that matched the stillness of the surroundings. “It was built using human lives. They hired hundreds of mercenaries to fight the demonic spirits.” “Yes, that’s correct.” Shizuku had posed the question to draw their interest, but she hadn’t expected anyone to know the answer. While she reacted with surprise, the man turned to her with bitterness in his eyes. “I’m one of the survivors… It was horrific. Many of my old friends died. I wanted to use this as an opportunity to strike back against the witch. Honestly, ruling the continent means nothing to me.” The mage beside him gave a small nod, indicating that he felt the same way. The determination they both exuded was undeniable, and its intensity silenced the men who’d been getting worked up. Once their inflamed ambitions had cooled off, the group started to react with fear, perhaps finally remembering that they were inside the witch’s castle. The man standing in front of Shizuku was speechless, too. His face had turned somewhat pale, but it seemed he wasn’t ready to back down just yet. “But…if what you say is true, why wouldn’t the witch just kill you herself?” he asked, his voice much feebler than before. “She could use those demonic spirits or something.” “She can’t afford to do that,” a cool voice responded. It had come from the hole that led to the floor above. As the majority of people’s gazes turned in that direction, a man dressed in mage attire appeared in the opening. Shizuku leaped up, calling out his name. “Erik!” “Listen. The witch doesn’t have time to deal with us right now. Twelve nations have declared war on her, so she’s busy summoning a massive army of demonic spirits to fight them. Things are looking really bad out there. We’re on the brink of all-out war.” “Huh…?” At Erik’s words, the color drained from everyone’s faces. A few people glanced out of the window. The sky was dark, and the miasma was unbelievably dense. This was a reality they couldn’t turn their eyes away from any longer. The frenzied tension of conflict had been totally wiped away. The man who’d been lashing out at Shizuku moments earlier looked as if all the blood had drained from his body. “…No way. Is that really true?” “Deceiving people is second nature to the witch,” Erik said, adding insult to injury. And that brought their short argument to a close. According to the reports, one hundred thousand demonic spirits had already been summoned. They weren’t that strong individually, but when the commanders of each nation’s army heard that such a large swarm had gathered around the witch’s castle, they couldn’t hide their anxiety. Only a few of the countries taking part in the operation had royalty personally spearheading their troops. Rozsark was one such nation. After transporting its thirty thousand–strong army to a fortress in northern Farsas, it united with the allied forces. As the armies of the different nations were gathering on the vast plain, the young king of Rozsark—King Oltovine—spotted Leuticia from atop his horse and shared a few words with her. “Will there be an endless stream of demonic spirits? If so, there’s no way we’ll be able to keep going. Has anyone devised a counterplan?” “Once the core inside Helginis Castle is destroyed, it will break the four-pointed spell configuration generating the miasma. That’ll stop them from being able to summon demons so quickly.” “How long will that take?” “An hour. I’m sure they’ll try to defend against that, though.” “That’s not soon enough. What if the people inside the castle are already dead?” “…Be quiet.” This wasn’t the first time that the two royals from different countries had met. They’d previously crossed paths following the Candela incident, after Farsas had asked Rozsark to govern the smaller nation via proxy. It wasn’t public knowledge, but the pair were actually blood relatives. Oltovine was technically a direct descendant of the Farsasian royal family, but he kept this a secret due to the problems it would cause. “As for that woman who calls herself a witch,” Oltovine added, as if it were an afterthought, “we’ve found some information about her past. Someone with her name submitted several research papers to the Continental Institute for Historical and Cultural Studies.” “That research institute with a branch in every major nation?” “The same. It collects papers from independent scholars. There’s no age limit, either. Apparently, Aviella submitted twelve papers in total—her first when she was fourteen—each to a different branch in a different country. She must have been traveling throughout the continent.” “What were her papers about?” Leuticia asked, immediately pressing the king for more details. Oltovine smirked, having expected this question. “I skimmed through them. They were all pretty mundane, warning about the evils of using forbidden magic. They didn’t attract much attention at the time.” “The evils of forbidden magic…?” If that was true, it seemed that Aviella used to have a sensible view regarding forbidden spells. She must have undergone a drastic transformation at some point after that—after all, this was the woman who’d sided with a heretical cult in Candela. As Leuticia was mulling over this, Oltovine expanded on the topic. “The journal that her final paper was published in, however, was withdrawn and destroyed after its publication, after somebody pointed out that the forbidden spell she described in it was actually executable. Rumor has it that several small nations tried to reach out to her about it.” “How stupid…” Was that how mages had shown up who knew forbidden spells? It was beyond idiotic. “A historian turned witch. What a vexing tale. To think she’d wage war against the entire continent.” “And to make it worse, we’re the ones at a disadvantage. This is no laughing matter.” The pair exchanged bitter smiles, but no amount of speculation was going to move the situation forward. Leuticia let out a deep breath and casually waved a hand. “If everyone inside the castle dies, I’ll go in and destroy the core myself. You can take over as supreme commander. Look after Farsas for me, too.” Even if both official members of the Farsasian royal family died in battle, there would still be Oltovine. Leuticia’s words brought a frown to his striking face. “You and your brother are such slave drivers. Who would want to rule Farsas?” “Just take Akashia, then.” “I don’t want it.” “It wouldn’t be for you. You’d give it to your son,” said Leuticia. “The girl who protected Vied is inside that castle.” “…Even she’s in there?” Oltovine’s eyes widened, but he soon wiped the surprised look off his face, tugged on his reins, and returned to his army. Leuticia’s blue eyes wandered in the direction of Helginis. The darkness was yet to arrive, but it still cast a gloomy shadow of fear over people’s hearts. They could fight that fear as much as they liked. However, if they succumbed to it and sank into despair, darkness would fall over the continent for the first time in six hundred years. Once they realized the witch was just using them, most of the invited guests decided they wanted to return to their hometowns. This was easier said than done, though. The first floor was already swarming with demons, and they were also starting to throng together outside. Erik responded by casting a barrier in a nearby room, creating a “zone of relative safety.” About a dozen people chose to wait there, although they still seemed apprehensive, and everyone else left them behind and began ascending the castle. As Erik was helping Shizuku through a hole in the staircase, she whispered something into his ear. “Did you make these holes, Erik?” “No. I thought it was the king.” “Huh? The king already made it this far up?” After being reunited with Erik, Shizuku had linked with the book to find out where Lars was, but nothing had been written about him. That probably meant he was still safe—in which case, he was definitely heading upward. Plus, the holes had begun underneath the floor Shizuku had been on. The fact that so many holes had already been created suggested that the person making them was moving up the castle at a considerable speed. If they were Lars’s doing, the mage accompanying him must be having a rough time. Shizuku spared a sympathetic thought for this unknown mage’s struggle. As she climbed the stairs, Shizuku glanced at the people following behind her, a sad expression on her face. “Do you think the others are safe? The group has gotten a lot smaller.” “I can’t say anything for sure, but it has been a long time,” replied Erik. “I think most of the people who aren’t here are probably a lost cause. If they are alive, though, they’ll notice the holes in the stairs and join us eventually.” Erik never offered false reassurance. Shizuku had had a vague feeling he’d say that, but it made her frown nonetheless. Everyone must have known this would happen, but she still couldn’t help but lament the loss of her fellow fighters. They weren’t mindless pawns; they were challengers in every sense. When she thought about how tenacious they’d been, it left her choked up. “Is it true that all-out war is about to start …?” “Yeah. Outside, more and more demonic spirits are being summoned using the miasma. We need to hurry up and destroy that magical device.” “Oh, then we’ll have to break the core…” “That’s the plan. We’re heading there right now.” If they could destroy the core of the magical device and break the spell configurations in the north, south, east, and west, it would weaken the miasma covering Helginis a little. That would reverse the transformation that had turned the region into the underworld, and Helginis would return to being the “land shut away by magic.” Once Shizuku thought through all that, she cocked her head to one side. Would that really be enough? Could they really defeat the witch just by destroying the magical device? Despite these doubts, she allowed Erik to lead her by the hand as they passed through another hole in the stairs. They said very little to one another as they continued their ascent, and soon they reached the floor where the core was. While the previous floors all had small rooms along the inner side of a circular corridor, this floor had none. Instead, the corridor opened out into a large, circular hall with the core of the magical device positioned at its center. There was a large magic circle drawn on the floor, with clear crystal balls embedded into different parts of the complex pattern. In the center of the circle was a perfectly round indentation about six feet in diameter, filled with a shallow pool of water. Shizuku started walking over to the magic ring, intrigued by the water’s mirror-like quality. The next thing she knew, her toes and forehead hit an invisible barrier. She silently crouched down in pain. The people around her looked at her in confusion—particularly Kaito, who gave his employer an icy look. “You’re so dumb. Didn’t you wonder why everyone else stopped?” “Ugh… I didn’t expect there to be a barrier here…” Shizuku stood up, rubbing her forehead. She had no way of justifying her carelessness. Erik and the rest of the nine mages were already standing around the magic circle, peering inside. “Seems like it’ll be tough to destroy without letting it get out of control.” “How about we dispel part of it before we destroy it? That’ll take some time, though.” “We’ll probably need Akashia. Let’s look for His Majesty.” “Wait. His Majesty has other matters to attend to. It can’t be that complicated—we should be able to handle it ourselves…” While the men were deliberating how to break the invisible barrier, Shizuku looked around the windowless room. She glanced in turn at each of the four cardinal directions—east, west, south, then north—all of which were blocked by walls. The castle had been constructed in a desolate land, with the underworld centered around it. The powerful magic that filled the air had originally rendered the region uninhabitable. The only thing that had purified it for several hundred years during the Dark Age was this giant magical device. Yet the witch had reversed that same device to produce the miasma. Her red book must have made this possible, as there were no remaining records regarding the purification device in Helginis. They’d all been lost when the nation was destroyed by a witch centuries earlier. The red book, however, documented all of history. Aviella had used its records to create this current device. “Does that mean…?” Shizuku had an idea. She just didn’t know whether it was possible. She beckoned Erik over and quietly asked him a question. “Didn’t you overwrite that spell that banned the use of magic during the battle in Kisk?” “Oh yeah, I did. I remember that.” “Can’t you do the same thing here?” Erik tilted his head to one side, unsure what Shizuku was trying to say, so she reworded her question. “This device’s original purpose was to purify Helginis, right? Could you revert it to its original state? …Could you turn it back into a purification device?” Breaking the spell that had transformed the region into the underworld wouldn’t give them the upper hand. Helginis would still be dominated by magical energy. So what if they could use the device to their advantage instead? If they could turn it back into the purification device that had once cleansed the land, they might be able to gain the upper hand. Shizuku’s idea made Erik’s eyes widen in surprise. “It might be doable…but it’d be tough, since I don’t know the original spell configuration. I can’t just overwrite it at random… Wait, are you saying—?” “I can read the original spell configuration.” The spell was written in the witch’s book. Since Shizuku was able to connect with it, it was possible for her to access that information. This tactic could turn their disadvantage into an advantage. Having grasped Shizuku’s plan, Erik was rendered speechless. After an uncharacteristically long silence, he finally spoke. “…I don’t think it’d be impossible.” There was an undercurrent of ineffaceable pain in his calm voice. “But to tell you the truth, I don’t want you using that book any more than you already have. You’ve already done more than enough stealing the red book’s ability to record history. Anything beyond that is going too far.” “But you could do it, couldn’t you? Please, let me try. If we just stand here, something could happen that we won’t be able to come back from.” If human armies ended up clashing with demonic spirits, the ensuing devastation would be like nothing ever seen before. They needed to do everything they could before things reached that stage. It was Shizuku’s desire to help that had brought her to the castle in the first place. Shizuku’s earnest plea brought a scowl to Erik’s handsome face. He stared at her for a while, then eventually let out a small sigh and turned toward the magic circle. “…Fine.” “Erik!” Shizuku smiled with relief. Erik patted her on the shoulder, then gathered the mages together and initiated some kind of discussion. The parts of the conversation that Shizuku overheard didn’t make much sense to her, but it sounded like they’d confirmed that the core was the thing controlling the effects of the giant device. All of the other mages gazed down at the magic circle, puzzling things over. When it appeared they’d all reached an agreement, Erik raised a finger and pointed east. “I suspect the spell’s four-directional configuration resembles the one that used to exist in Helginis. I’ve seen it in action—it was designed to draw power from the core and distribute it throughout the area. So if we overwrite this part right here, we can use the existing four-directional configuration as a purification device.” “I see… If that works, more than half of the demons outside will get sent back, won’t they? They won’t be able to withstand the purification barrier.” “That’s just theory, though. The scale is enormous, and we don’t even know what the original spell configuration was.” “I’ll figure something out. I’ll also be the one to overwrite it.” Once their discussion had concluded, they dispelled the barrier surrounding the core. Erik stood at the top of the magic circle, on the other side of the pool of water, and beckoned Shizuku over. She responded by hesitantly stepping inside the ring. Erik looked around. Everyone was watching him. The mage, who’d received praise from the princess of Farsas herself for his outstanding spell configuration skills, made a calm announcement. “I will now convert the magical device that turned Helginis into the underworld into a purification device. I don’t know how long it will take, but if it works, most of the demonic spirits should either disappear or lose their strength. However, if someone notices that I’m overwriting the spell, there’s a good chance that the witch or demonic spirits will try to stop me. I want you all to keep those attacks at bay, but it will likely be a very perilous battle. If any of you don’t wish to stay, flee now while you have the chance. I can’t be responsible for what happens to you.” His tone was cold. Although some were taken aback by what they were hearing, no one tried to leave. Each of the twenty-three individuals there responded with wordless gazes. Erik nodded, making no effort to force a smile. Then he looked down at the twenty-fourth person—Shizuku. “I taught you how to read spell diagrams, didn’t I? Do you remember how to do it?” “Yes. I’ll be fine.” She’d gotten plenty of practice when she was drawing the diagrams on his behalf. Shizuku was confident that she and Erik could communicate effectively about spell diagrams, if nothing else. He smiled at her, then glanced down at the magic circle at his feet. “Look at this and point out the differences you observe… Wait, you can’t see magical power, can you? Oh well.” “Wait, what? Is that a problem?” Shizuku panicked, wondering if there was more to the spell than what was etched on the floor. Erik prodded his forehead with his finger. “It’s fine. I’ll share the surface of my consciousness with you. You’ll be able to see the magical power through my eyes.” As Erik said this, he got down on one knee at the top of the magic array. Pulled by the hand, Shizuku knelt directly in front of him. The pair looked at each other. Erik wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her closer. At their sudden proximity, Shizuku wondered if she was turning red. A thought flickered through her mind: This might have been the first time I’ve seen his face so close. But she got the strange feeling she’d had the same thought before. She wasn’t sure if Erik had picked up on her confusion or not, but he cautioned her, his expression cool as ever. “Try not to think about anything unnecessary. It’ll cloud your mind.” “Ugh… You need to respect my privacy.” The idea of Erik seeing any of her awkward thoughts was unbearable. As Shizuku was trying to calm herself down, Erik looked at the intricate lines of the spell configuration and then placed his hand on one of the thicker lines. He drew magical power from the device in his ear and concentrated it into his fingertips. “If we had Akashia, it’d be easier to break through. I guess I’ll have to force our way in.” Erik compressed the magic he’d gathered and aimed it at one edge of the formation. Everybody apart from Shizuku looked at his hand, and a moment later, a sound resembling bursting sparks rang through the air. The incursion had begun. Erik looked up and stared intently at Shizuku. The moment she met his deep-blue eyes, she immediately grasped what she needed to do. Shizuku closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his. Their minds synchronized, allowing them to share thoughts. The scene Shizuku saw would normally be impossible to witness for someone like her, who possessed no magical powers. Intricate, elegant intertwining lines appeared on top of the magic circle. They were so beautiful that they took her breath away. For a moment, Shizuku found herself overwhelmed by what she was seeing. She and Erik saw the world differently. This was the difference between a mage and a person with no magical powers. She’d been aware of that for some time, but she’d never truly understood it until that moment. How could two humans see the same world yet perceive it so differently? Erik had always been able to see this world. This world, cloaked in a layer of magical energy. There was a depth to it that conveyed endless possibilities. The sight of this different realm made Shizuku shudder. She almost wanted to cry. She clutched the untitled book against her chest, which burned with emotion. Then she linked her consciousness to it. She extracted from the vast wealth of information available to her the blueprint for the magical device that had once existed here. The man spoke in a calm voice. “Go on. Tell me.” “…Okay.” The only concrete sensations Shizuku could feel were his forehead touching hers and his arm supporting her body. Everything else was spread out in the fertile expanse of her mind. Both the spell formation she could see through Erik’s eyes and the blueprint she’d extracted from the book were strikingly clear to her. Shizuku searched for differences between them, beginning with their most basic components. “First…swap around the start and end points of the 3rd sequence.” “Okay.” “Rotate the 4th one ninety degrees clockwise. Do the same with every sequence until the 9th.” “Hold on… Okay.” “Stop the 11th and the 33rd sequences from intersecting, and link them to the 47th sequence instead.” Shizuku delivered her instructions calmly, and Erik responded with his magic. Everybody watched with bated breath as the pair rewrote the spell’s structure, praying that this one action would turn the conflict around. Having returned from the top floor, Aviella clutched a battered longsword, its blade chipped and nicked. She must have picked up somebody’s weapon again. As the woman gazed fondly down at the sword, Elzard looked at her with a hint of exasperation in his eyes. “Are you done summoning demonic spirits?” “Yes. I’ve made it so they’ll spawn automatically from now on. The miasma is thick enough, so that should be adequate, don’t you think? We’ll go on the offensive once their numbers exceed five hundred thousand.” “Most of the humans you brought here have deserted.” “Oh?” The witch didn’t seem concerned by this statement. On the other hand, she wasn’t exactly relaxed. It felt as if she’d adopted a detached, accepting stance on everything, which irritated Elzard. “About half of the people from Farsas, who arrived first, are dead. The survivors are on the middle levels… One of them is ascending at an incredible speed. They’re already close.” “That must be Akashia’s wielder.” Aviella laughed, delighted by the thought of her nemesis approaching, but then her eyes suddenly widened in surprise. She began to scan her surroundings, looking as though she was searching for something invisible. Noticing the sudden change, the demon raise his eyebrows slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Somebody has made contact with the device’s core. Are they…rewriting the spell configuration? I didn’t think that was possible. I guess some humans have interesting skill sets.” “Don’t act all impressed. I’ll go and kill them.” If the spell transforming the area around the castle into the underworld was overwritten, it would not only hinder the summoning process but also impact the demonic spirits that had already been summoned. Just as Elzard was about to get up from the throne, Aviella raised a hand to stop him. “It’s fine. I’ll go. I want to see who’s behind it.” “It doesn’t matter who it is. We’re just going to kill them anyway.” “It does matter. A person’s death isn’t devoid of all meaning.” A scene unrelated to their surroundings reflected in Aviella’s eyes. For a moment, she looked like a girl who hadn’t lost hope in her world. Like a woman who’d refused to give up, despite the betrayal she’d suffered. As the woman-turned-witch spoke, her eyes were filled with countless different emotions. “History is built by the innumerable paths that humans choose to go down. Humans are beautiful, Elzard.” “…Not this again,” the demon spat, unable to understand her perspective. The witch laughed gleefully. She propped the longsword against the side of the throne, then turned around. “If the wielder of Akashia turns up while I’m away, make sure to give him a warm welcome.” “I’ll turn him into a lump of flesh.” The woman snickered in response, then vanished. Even after she was gone, Elzard felt as though he could still see her and her elegantly straight back, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t understand what she hoped to achieve by inciting so much chaos. He yawned with boredom, then shut his eyes once more. Twenty minutes had passed since Erik and Shizuku started overwriting the spell. During that time, the pair had remained completely still. Very few words were spoken—Shizuku only opened her mouth to tell Erik what to rewrite, while Erik simply responded to her directions in a soft tone of voice. The shift of magical energy around the massive spell formation was subtle and gradual, but it seemed to place a considerable burden on Erik nonetheless. As sweat ran down his cheeks, he let out a sigh and urged the woman in his arms to continue. “Done. Tell me the next step.” “…You need to replicate the 120th sequence. Use it to overwrite the 115th.” With her eyes closed, Shizuku took a moment to pause before telling him the necessary corrections—a pattern she’d followed from the start. Occasionally, the half-dreaming expression on her face would fade away, as if she’d lost sight of reality, at which point Erik’s voice would gently pull her back to consciousness. It was a strange sight. Although the onlookers originally paid close attention, they had begun considering their next steps and making the requisite preparations. The mages cast layers of barriers around Shizuku and Erik, while the swordsmen and military officers quickly sharpened their beloved swords, their senses keen. It felt like the calm before a storm. Kaito, meanwhile, simply glanced back at Shizuku every now and then as he checked the blade of his dagger. He wasn’t feeling particularly tense. He’d come to the castle hoping for a chaotic battle, but things had gone in a somewhat strange direction. That didn’t bother him much, though. In fact, if the opportunity to kill the witch did come his way, it would be a dream come true. He tried to smile, but just ended up looking annoyed. He hadn’t felt like himself for a while, and he was sure the woman who’d hired him was to blame. She was constantly making annoying demands. Perhaps the change had begun long ago. At some point, killing people had stopped being as fun as it had been before. “I can’t smile anymore.” When Kaito had told this to an old acquaintance of his, the response he’d got was, “That’s probably because you’ve gotten older.” Hearing this, he felt a mix of acceptance and denial. Still, the reasons behind his transformation weren’t really relevant. The reality of his situation remained the same. He was no longer able to smile. There was nothing more to it. He wasn’t opposed to the idea of killing people, but he no longer got any enjoyment out of it. Swinging his blade to eliminate enemies had turned into a routine task—just another part of the job. He found it neither interesting nor enjoyable. He even felt uncomfortable when his opponents pitifully begged for their lives. Kaito wasn’t ready to accept that fact, though. He had taken on one dangerous job after another, and even ventured into the witch’s castle. It was there that he’d once again found himself face-to-face with her—that infuriating, stubborn, nagging, foolish little girl. He’d met plenty of other people whose weapons of choice were righteousness and justice. They all had a narrow-minded view of the world, living their lives in blissful ignorance. Shizuku was no different. She was the only one who’d appeared before him more than once. On both occasions, she’d denied him the bloodshed he sought. The first time, he’d chosen not to kill her because she was a client of someone he knew. His decision to spare her had led them to meet a second time. There was nothing particularly special about that encounter—he simply hadn’t been impressed by her childish opinions. She’d leveled the same criticisms at him when they met the second time. She wasn’t deterred by the fact that he’d pointed his weapon at her and even threatened her during their previous encounter. Her arguments were as trite and foolish as ever. Despite this, her attitude provoked irritation within him…as well as some other nonsensical ideas. “If I hadn’t killed that person…” “If I’d met that person again…” Would his other victims have repeated their initial arguments if they’d met a second time? Or would they have changed their tune out of fear of Kaito? If they had survived, the experience would definitely have changed them in some way. He was speculating about situations that were never going to happen. They were meaningless hypotheses that were pointless to consider. And yet for some reason, Kaito hadn’t been able to smile since they first crossed his mind. “…I’m so bored. It’s getting on my nerves.” Kaito flipped his dagger over in his hand a few times. Shizuku’s small back was reflected in its well-polished blade. She wasn’t wearing any kind of armor. If he were to throw his dagger in her direction, it would probably kill her. She was technically his employer, though. He wasn’t interested in killing her, and doing so would only complicate matters. When it came to people like her, it was best to part ways quickly and avoid running into them again. He pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind and simply waited until he was needed. Eventually, that moment arrived. A sound sent a slight ripple through the air. The mages all turned to look. A distortion had appeared near the entrance of the hall—a sign that teleportation magic was being used. Setting eyes on it, everybody in the room readied themselves to fight. In the blink of an eye, a woman materialized in the spot where the distortion had been. The mage was clothed in a deep shade of red, and the teleportation spell had left her lustrous silver hair swaying. She surveyed the hall with her reddish-brown eyes. “Oh… That’s interesting. It’s a mage from Farsas who’s rewriting the spell?” The witch’s gaze landed on the pair sitting inside the magic circle. A few people noticed where she was looking and instinctively moved in front of Erik and Shizuku, attempting to shield them from sight. The hostility in the air thickened. A military officer from Farsas turned toward the woman. “Are you the witch?” His unreserved question brought a smile to Aviella’s face. “Yes, that’s right. That’s the title I’m going by. I’m the owner of this castle.” “…Then I want you to stop summoning those demonic spirits outside.” “Do you really believe I’d listen to such a request? You know why I’m here.” The witch laughed out loud. She was a powerful individual, and this was a proclamation of war. The atmosphere in the hall became suffocatingly tense. One by one, Aviella looked at the people who’d overcome their fear to challenge her. She twisted her red lips into a smile. “If you think you can stop me, give me everything you’ve got.” Once upon a time, six hundred years ago, a country existed in this spot. That land, built in a region that was purified by a saint, was known as Helginis. The country managed to uphold its peace for a long time, even during the war-torn Dark Age. However, one night, this small border nation unexpectedly crumbled. The woman who burned the town to the ground and destroyed its castle was called a witch—an inhuman yet human being who filled citizens across the continent with fear. “…A witch, huh? Fine by me,” Kaito muttered, adjusting the grip on his dagger in his left hand. He hadn’t found any of his jobs interesting in some time, regardless of the nature of his task. At this moment, however, he was experiencing an unmistakable thrill. The boy drew his longsword with his right hand. There was no fear. That was an emotion he’d never felt. With bated breath, he fixed his gaze on his prey. Aviella smiled, extending her slender left arm. Her fingers were long, and her thoughts refined. “Okay. Let’s begin.” The witch casually snapped her fingers—and as if on cue, a fierce battle erupted in the hall inside Helginis Castle. On the top floor of the castle, a strong, turbid wind blew in through a large window. A demon man sat on the sole throne in the hall, his eyes closed. Everything was monotonous, but from his perspective, an eternity and an instant were pretty much the same. To him, the cycle of human life seemed like a mere flash in the pan. Why, then, had he chosen to stay in their world? The contract that bound him and Aviella was poorly made and could have been broken at any time. She’d used the knowledge documented in her red book to summon him when she was an inexperienced mage, still in her mid-teens. If he’d grown tired of everything in this world, he could just decide to leave. He could do so whenever he wanted. Despite this, Elzard remained seated, waiting for her to return with his eyes closed. He was unable to sense the passing of time, so he never attempted to envision the future. “—Huh? You’re the only one here?” A man’s careless voice echoed through the hall. No footsteps could be heard, but Elzard had sensed the intruder’s approach nonetheless. He opened one eye, then turned to face the trespasser. The king had shown up by himself, wielding a sword unlike any other—one immune to all magic, even that from higher realms. The king stood at the entrance to the hall, fixing his defiant gaze on the throne. “I’m seriously annoyed you made me climb all those stairs for nothing. Where’s the witch?” “She’s not here.” “In that case, I’ll kill you first and go look for her after that. It’s a nuisance, but oh well.”