Chapter 5

P/N let me know if there's any mistakes and I will try to fix them

CHAPTER 5: THE END OF HER WORLD

It intensifies.

The battle on the field, the holy death match. The baptism by the

first-tier adventurers.

"

—soldiers of lightning."

"Ghhh?!"

The short cast echoes cruelly.

I've just been slammed by magic, and despair claws at me when I

realize another round is already coming as I quickly move to evade it

with all my might.

"Caurus Hildr."

A fusillade of lightning falls.

Each bolt is a swift arrowhead the size of my head, pouring down all

around me as if fired by a whole regiment of soldiers. I manage to

avoid the first few blasts, but after that, I falter and clumsily absorb a

hellish number of strikes.

Shot, burned, chipped, and electrified.

Even the blood spattered around me is scorched and comes to a boil.

I can't see for the flashes of lightning erupting all around me, and for

a moment, my consciousness goes blank before a merciless

declaration reaches my ears.

"Strike forever, indestructible lord of lightning."

—A third cast?!

It's too fast!

Calling his casting ability transcendental did not do it justice. Master

was doing successive high-speed casts, ruthlessly unleashing even

more lightning.

"Valiant Hildr."

An enormous lightning spear pierces me where I stand frozen.

A first-tier adventurer's rampage.

The tyranny of a single elf.

It had already been a severe enough battle, but one day Master

simply declared, "Pathetic."

And thus began a fierce, one-sided struggle.

Master began unleashing his magic and destroyed me countless

times. Even now, a corner of Folkvangr was swirling in the grips of a

white elf's lightning storm. Any person or monster who took one

step inside it would meet their end, and I was forced to try to survive

while trapped inside the storm.

"

—Aaaaa, guhah?! Igh…ahhhhhh?!"

Activating my skill—charging my right leg for just a brief moment, I

somehow manage to kick the ground and escape the line of fire, but

half of my body is charred.

I had no hope of evading it in time. I'm writhing in agony like a beast

from the blast fired with deadly timing, while Master has already

closed the distance between us.

Tears are welling in my eyes from the intense pain as he follows up

with another attack.

"Haah!"

"Uwah?!"

A spear-like kick hits my shoulder. I can hear bones breaking. My

charred left arm is now well and truly unusable. Master's rhomphaia

hurtles at me. That at least I manage to deflect with the knife in my

right hand, escaping death, a desperate extension.

Responding with martial arts—is hopeless. I can't get through even if

I force hand-to-hand combat. Master outclasses me even at close

range. If I try to use Firebolt, my arm will get severed by his

rhomphaia. There's no way one of the greatest magic swordsmen in

the city would overlook the telltale flow of mind that telegraphs a

spell. The moment I resort to a cheap spell will be the end for me.

Master…why…?!

This is wrong. It's all wrong.

He's totally different from the master I remember. The Hedin who

trained me to escort Syr. And as if declaring that it was all just my

own foolish imagination, every trace of the expression from my

memories has been erased entirely. His eyes are shaded with cruelty,

and he is really trying to kill me.

A groaning cry emanates from the pit of my stomach as I attempt the

best counterattack I can unleash.

But there is just a slapping sound as he deflects it with the palm of

his hand and immediately follows up with an attack to the right side

of my head while I stand there in a daze. He spins, unleashing a

snakelike elbow strike to my temple. I stop breathing and my knees

buckle, and like a broken rag doll, I leave myself wide open.

"Fool."

"Gaaaaaaah—

"

He spins his rhomphaia violently down toward my body.

It bites deep into my shoulder, and a swell of blood pours from the

wound. There's no question it's a mortal wound.

Strength leaves me, and the scene reflected in my eyes as I stagger

backward is Master's figure, his rhomphaia swung upward, preparing

to deliver the next blow.

As time slows to crawl, it begins to swing down—

""""Stop, Hedin.""""

—but it doesn't land.

Alfrik, Dvalinn, Berling, and Grer all have their weapons at Master's

throat, stopping his rhomphaia.

As I'm drawn to the ground with a mortal wound, collapsing entirely

onto my back, a murderous voice echoes on the field.

"You've gone too far."

"Did you forget how to hold back?"

"Are you trying to actually destroy him?"

"Even Heith and the others won't be able to fully heal him."

At the edge of my vision, I can see Heith and the other healers

growing pale at Master's sadism.

The healers have not been able to keep up with the treatment at all.

They don't dare approach because of the tempestuous rain of

lightning. Even if they could have gotten close enough to heal me,

my body has been carved away with deadly precision.

The other familia members around us are the same. Van and the rest

are staring at us in silent shock, their own battle forgotten.

At some point, the sky grew a bloody, crimson color. I can't

remember when it started, but the sun was beginning to set.

"Are you okay, Bell?"

"Aah, ngh, argh…?!"

Hegni gives me an elixir and sits me up.

A billow of smoke rises from my wound, and the effects of the

dramatic healing assault me. I let out a formless scream as Hegni

supports my back while glaring at Master…

"What are you plotting, old foe? For what reason do you enact such

tyranny?"

"As if that question should need asking. It's obvious," Master fires

back at the censure in the eyes of his fellow first-tier adventurers.

"This idiot rabbit has attracted the love of our beloved goddess.

Therefore, it's imperative he prove his worth. If he does not prove to

possess a soul worthy of our mistress…then none will accept it!"

His honest, unvarnished shout is filled with intense emotion.

The others all fall silent.

Out here in Folkvangr, there is nothing mistaken about that warrior's

battle cry.

"Everything else means nothing! Fulfilling the goddess's wish is your

duty!"

Suffering from blood loss, my vision fuzzy, I look up.

The elf's coral eyes are looking at me, calling to me.

"Stand! Rise to your feet!"

"…ghh…"

"You must stand!"

He, who had vowed loyalty to the goddess, more earnest than

anyone, is looking just at me.

"Prove that you are the Odr for whom the goddess has so long

waited!"

The elf's shout thunders as it slams into me.

The next day, and the day after that, Master continues to increase

the intensity of the baptism.

"What mental obstruction hides within thy mind, Hedin?"

Hegni's eyes were flared as he pressed Hedin, who remained

unmoved.

"It appears you want to ask me what I'm thinking, but what do you

mean?"

"You know full well! The white hare is the goddess's offering! Such

sadism will corrode his innocent heart! You leave me no choice but

to be the hare's knight!"

When the city was shrouded in dark night, the first-tier adventurers

of Freya Familia gathered in a certain room deep within Folkvangr.

The Gullivers were sitting at the table, Allen had his arms crossed

and was leaning against the wall looking bored, and Ottar stood

silent. It was the place where a lone white elf stood in judgment for

his excessive persecution of the boy.

In response to Hegni's menacing glare, Hedin snorted.

"What knight, you fool? Do you wish to earn more incomprehensible

derision from the deities?"

"Th-that has nothing to do with it…?!"

Hegni's eyes watered, and he immediately switched back to his

normal voice at having that bit of old history dredged up.

"Then have you grown attached to that fool? Would you call that

thing your friend?"

"F-friend?! No, no, no! It's true that this human is a good-natured

and kind person, and I get the sense that no matter how deep into chaos I might slip, he would speak to me with consideration, yes, but

at best he is like an apprentice!…No, this feeling is…an unrivaled

friend?"

The dark elf whose nature was so shy and timid had an over-the-top

reaction to the word "friend," and his focus was cast into a world of

imagination.

Glaring in annoyance at Hegni, who was off on a wild adventure in

his head, Alfrik and his brothers spoke up.

"It's true that Lady Freya entrusted Bell Cranell's training to you."

"But even so, your rash behavior these past few days is intolerable."

"Don't try to dodge the question by blowing smoke up that idiot's

ass."

"If you do not have any ulterior motives, then explain yourself."

And the prum brothers threatened implicitly, If you do not have an

acceptable reason, we will draw and quarter you.

Hedin sighed with more than a trace of disappointment.

"Are your eyes just decorative holes?"

""""What did you say?""""

"In this sandbox at this very moment, the one being driven into a

corner is not that fool, but Milady."

""""!!!""""

It was not just the Gullivers; even Hegni's and Allen's eyes widened

at that statement.

"Bell Cranell is worn down, yet he is unbowed by our trick.

Meanwhile, he is disturbing the goddess's heart."

As he said that, Hedin looked at the boaz, the only one whose

expression had remained unchanged.

As Alfrik and the rest also turned their attention to him, Ottar, who

had been serving at Freya's side, responded with a delicate

expression, as if he had some idea of what Hedin was saying.

"…It's true that Milady has spent more time of late alone in

contemplation. Either looking up at the sky from her window without

listening to the maids' conversations or taking her meals. Other

times she's merely been looking out at the field to watch the boy

fight. And…" Ottar added, "it seems as if her time is mostly spent in

self-reflection."

The Gullivers could not hide their shock.

"The thought of someone resisting her charm is enchanting the

goddess. We must corner that foolish rabbit at once and bring him

down. I'm merely taking the steps necessary for that to happen."

Hegni and the Gullivers closed their mouths at the words of Hedin,

who stood in the role of commander or strategist.

After silencing those who had been accompanying him in the boy's

baptism, Hedin turned his gaze to Allen.

"Starting tomorrow, you join the baptism, too, cat."

"My job right now is watching the tavern. What are you thinking,

giving that monstrous dwarf a chance to do whatever she wants,

dumbass?"

"Do you really still intend to play the fool? Quit using Mia as an

excuse."

"!"

"You and Milady have already made a move against the tavern.

There is no more reason for you to bother with it. Leave watching it

to Van and them."

Allen was silenced by the elf's insinuation, which seemed to have hit

home.

Beating him about the head with sound arguments, Hedin stepped

right in front of the cat person, who was shorter than him, and

leaned in close.

"Or what? Do you still have some attachment to that idiotic sister of

yours, even after abandoning her once?"

"

—You wanna die, gnat?"

Allen's pupils flared, and he unleashed a full-powered burst of

murderous intent.

A normal person would have been helplessly overwhelmed, but

Hedin did not waver in the slightest.

"Our mistress is in crisis. Obey."

"….tch…"

The first to look away in the staring contest was Allen.

Scoffing instead of a verbal acknowledgment—a silent acceptance.

Irritated, he pushed Hedin back with one hand.

There was no argument from Hegni, Alfrik, or the rest of the

brothers.

All of their priorities aligned at the top, at Freya. Every one of them

wanted most to protect the goddess's heart.

Pushed away, Hedin fixed his clothes and turned finally to the boaz.

"You too, Ottar. Crush that rabbit with your sword."

"…There is no need for me to join as well. I leave it to you, Hedin."

The warrior's words were few.

He firmly rejected the demand. Instead, as the familia's captain, he

entrusted the task entirely to Hedin.

Rust-colored and coral eyes met.

Hedin made no further attempts to draw him in.

"…We will corner the fool beginning tomorrow. Do not allow any pity

to move you. Do it thoroughly and completely."

He pushed his glasses up as he delivered the merciless

pronouncement.

"Freya Familia's movements have changed…?"

Asfi was observing Folkvangr from atop the city wall as she

murmured to herself.

It was exactly noon, but the sky was shrouded in gray clouds. As the

rest of the city returned to normal after the Goddess Festival,

unaware of the fact that it had been twisted by the power of Freya's

charm, Perseus was still fighting, even if she was now alone.

The battle she had been tasked with was righting the wrong that had

warped Orario.

From the information I've gathered already, it is clear Bell Cranell

has been forced to fight in Folkvangr for consecutive days, but…this is

growing more intense…!

Maintaining her invisibility with the Hades Head, she was peering

through the magic item while exercising extreme caution—praying

that Freya did not notice her presence from the top of Babel—and

Asfi was covered in a cold sweat. Even though she was so far away, it

almost felt like she could hear Bell's groans and screams of pain.

The cat person's swift spear, the prums' waves of attacks, the dark

elf's slashes that severed everything, and the white elf's terrifying

magic all enveloped the boy in a storm of blood and destruction.

This is far more intense than just their usual baptism, and it almost

feels like they're losing their composure…Are they getting impatient?

The one and only Freya Familia?

The goddess of beauty and her followers should have already

attained victory.

They had created a perfect sandbox, a prison that the boy could not

possibly escape. They were surely aware that Asfi was watching, but

she was just a single second-tier adventurer who could view events

only from a distance, and there was no way she could dramatically

alter the state of the board.

There should not be anyone who could threaten them, not in Orario,

not in all of the mortal realm.

Then…an Irregular? Some unforeseen thing that is disturbing their

familia…no, Goddess Freya herself?

And if such a thing could happen, then the only one who could be

causing it was Bell Cranell.

During the incident with Ishtar Familia, Hermes had suggested that

there was a possibility that charm did not work on Bell. Because if it

did, there was no reason for Ishtar not to charm Bell and use him as

a shield against Freya when her familia stormed through the Pleasure

Quarter in a fiery blitz.

At the time, Asfi had laughed off the idea of someone defeating the

charm of a goddess of beauty, but given what she had seen so far,

that idea was gaining strength.

Most likely Freya Familia was losing patience with Bell for continuing

to resist, for refusing to give in, and they were getting tired of

waiting.

Or else Bell himself was becoming something that threatened to

destroy the sandbox.

"Bell Cranell…what even are you…?"

In her exhaustion, Asfi let her real feelings slip out in a whisper.

That boy was practically a contagion of chaos at this point. Like the

time with the Xenos, incidents centered around him exploded and

shook the world. Or perhaps it was the opposite, and it was people

like that who truly had the qualifications to be a hero.

For Asfi, a worldly person who wished to avoid troublesome matters

as much as possible, Bell was someone who made her want to plead

with tears in her eyes to just leave her alone—even if she

understood that, from his point of view, it was an unreasonable

request and he had not actually done anything bad himself—

She was split between despair and sympathy for the boy who

seemed to summon trouble as she pinched the back of her hand and

forced herself to stop from spiraling into a bad place.

Anyway! I can observe Vana Freya and the rest of them from here,

and Warlord is surely at his goddess's side…! With all of the first-tier

adventurers gathered at their home, whatever the reason, their

surveillance network must have loosened! There's no mistaking it! I

should be able to move more freely now…!

She could maintain her stealth as long as it was not against those

monsters.

Freya Familia? Who cares about einherjar? I'm Perseus. Against

anyone on the same level as me, I can slip past easily. If I'm surrounded

by Level 4s, then it's game over, but I'm going to break through no

matter what, damn it!

Driven forward by a desperate motivation in the back of her mind,

Asfi silently began to move, making a list of the deities who might

possibly be able to help her as she went.

"Haaah…I'm such a useless goddess…"

Hestia was melancholic.

Unable even to see the sunset through the clouds, she was walking

falteringly through the hall of the home, steadying herself on pillars

as a sense of powerlessness hammered her.

This was her general mood ever since Ouranos had driven her from

his chamber.

She had skipped her shift at work for several days in a row, and the

owner of the Jyaga Maru Kun shop was mad enough to come beating

down the door of the home, which in turn meant that Hephaistos's

store of patience was probably close to running dry. The moment she

would be fired was drawing near. And Lilly, who did not know

anything about what was going on, had berated her to get back to

work because it was causing the familia problems. Hestia wasn't

trying to use it as an excuse to slack off. She just couldn't pretend

everything was normal while her precious follower was all alone.

"Bell…"

Her heart felt like it was being torn in half by the reality that Bell was

still suffering even that very moment.

A rustling sound roused her from those painful thoughts.

"Huh? What, a scrap of paper…?"

Where did that come from? Did I drop it?

Hestia cocked her head at the odd scene as she reached down to pick

it up. It was almost as if an invisible person had dropped it right in

front of her.

"'I forgot something in the workshop'…?"

Opening the torn fragment of paper, she read the Koine written

across it.

Her eyes widened at the red pen strokes that were written like a note

to herself not to forget something.

"Welllllf! Are you there, Welf?!"

She made a point of calling out in a particularly loud voice as she ran

around the home.

She was fully aware that Freya Familia was watching her and her

familia from somewhere, even now. So Hestia went along with the

memo and acted like a foolish goddess who had left something lying

around.

Mikoto popped her head out of the kitchen to tell her, "Sir Welf is in

the storage room on the first floor."

With a quick thank-you, she headed in that direction.

The blacksmith was in the process of carrying several boxes.

"Welf! Can you lend me your key to the workshop?! I need to go in

real quick!"

"Eh, you do…?"

"Oy, oy, what's that unpleasant look on your face! What do you think

I am?!"

"No, I was just a little worried about my smithing tools getting

broken is all…What do you want in there anyway?"

"I lost my copy of a two hundred million valis loan! I think it might

have gotten mixed up in the move and ended up in your workshop!"

"That sounds pretty bad…"

Hestia babbled on in a voice loud enough to be audible outside the

home as Welf reluctantly winced and gave her the key with a firm

"Don't lose that, please."

"Of course not," Hestia responded with a hearty thumbs-up. "…What

are you doing, by the way?"

"The truth is, I've been storing a bunch of stuff beneath the

workshop, but it was getting a little bit tight, so I decided to organize

a bit."

He was carrying weapons and gear wrapped in cloth, along with

armor stuffed in boxes, and even some magic blades. It was true that

just leaving all that lying around would be concerning. Hestia then

noticed that Welf was looking down at a piece of armor in his hands

that was almost broken.

"Welf…?"

"…Lady Hestia…Do you remember why I made light armor?"

There was no one in the current Hestia Familia who favored light

armor.

Hestia gasped at the presence of armor that Lilly, Mikoto, and

Haruhime would never use.

"I can't seem to remember who I made this for…but I can tell that I

must have taken a lot of care in making it."

Welf was staring at the armor even though he could not possibly

know what was happening.

For a second, Hestia almost burst into tears. After the moment

passed, she gave him her biggest smile.

"You don't have to remember, just feel it. The bond you had with the

adventurer who used that armor!"

With that, Hestia fled the storage room.

No matter how much Freya twisted things with her charm, people's

bonds with Bell still remained. With enough searching, many more would surely come to light. And within that realization, there was

hope. Renewing her thoughts, Hestia hurried forward.

Reaching the workshop in the backyard, she unlocked the door and

slipped inside.

With the door closed firmly, the room was dark. At first glance, it

seemed empty, but…the door leading down into the underground

was open. Hestia quietly descended the stairs and firmly closed the

hatch. There—

"Apologies for calling you out here, Goddess Hestia. I wanted to be

sure we met somewhere we could not be overheard."

Asfi released her invisibility and appeared out of thin air.

"A-A-Asfiiiiiiiiiiiiii!"

"Ghoh?! P-Please calm down. While we are underground, it's still

possible Freya Familia might notice us if we cause a disturbance…!"

Hestia was overwhelmed with emotion as she tackled Asfi. She

remembered seeing those red pen strokes on a memo once before.

On the night of the Daedalus skirmish involving the Xenos, that same

handwriting had filled the fake Daedalus Notebook that Hermes had

prepared. Hestia only heard later that Asfi had been the one who

was responsible for its creation.

She didn't need any further confirmation that Asfi was not charmed.

She felt bad for her carelessness, but she was still overwhelmed with

emotion at having such a reassuring adventurer as one of her few

allies.

"Thank goodness you were safe! It was so lonely and painful being all

alone without any support all this time…!"

"I feel the same. I was right to trust that you would still be in your

right mind."

As comrades who were both on the outside of the sandbox, they

could share in both the pain and the joy of finding an ally at last.

Even though Asfi was usually so cool and collected, she openly

smiled like a child, as if relief was suffusing her whole being.

Hestia sniffled loudly and asked, "By the way, out of curiosity, how

did you get in here? It was locked, right?"

"I'm Perseus."

"Ah, right, of course."

Asfi pushed her glasses up, and that was enough for Hestia to

understand. In other words, she had picked the lock.

Hestia chose to prioritize going through all the stuff they needed to

cover, when had Asfi returned, what had she been doing, all the

information they had to share. Asfi had correctly guessed Freya's

intentions, and Hestia learned Freya Familia's current status.

"Their movements have changed…?"

"Yes, to some extent. All that can be said is that baptism of theirs has

intensified, but…it looked to me like they were growing impatient."

"Impatient? Them? Why?"

"…Most likely because Bell Cranell is still refusing to succumb to her

charm."

Hestia's eyes widened as Asfi struggled to put into words the

impression she had gotten.

And then, she looked down at the tiny scrap of paper that she had

held on to all this time—her one strand of hope.

"Has the time come…?"

I'm being worn down.

I'm getting ground down.

My body, my mind, my heart—they're all falling apart under the

intensity of the baptism.

I'm being pushed to my limits and far beyond, not down in the

Dungeon, but aboveground. This situation is so extreme that even

though I'm getting plenty of healing, nutrition, and sleep, it rivals

that death march through the deep levels. The moment that

realization dawns upon me, I vomit.

There's one thing I'm forced to realize from my fights with the first-

tier adventurers.

Each and every one of their moves is deadly.

With no hope of finding a way out from the valley of death, I have to

carve my own bloody path.

If I don't learn new tactics, I will die.

If I don't become stronger with every drop of blood I lose, my life

could end in an instant.

On top of that, even as I can feel my strength growing, I am

constantly trampled by ever-greater tyrannical and

incomprehensible power. And then I'm forced yet again to endure

another absurd revival. It suddenly occurs to me that if death were

possible for undying warriors, then it would be only in the

destruction of their spirit.

It's a form of doping.

The cost of such sudden, drastic growth was bound to come crashing

down on me at some point.

And that point is now.

Regardless of how determined or single-minded I am, my will, my

pride, and my spirit have been systematically eradicated. All that

remains is the survival instinct that fears death. It's unclear whether

my spirit has already been broken, and I'm not sure if I'm standing on

the edge of the cliff or in the depths of the ocean.

And more than anything, the devotion that has been my driving force

seems to be losing meaning.

Where is that flower atop the mountain even blooming?

Am I climbing the wrong peak?

Does that flower really even exist?

I'm so tired and on the verge of losing something precious.

From the bottom of my heart, I want to run away.

But even if I escape, I don't have anywhere else to call home. The

people I met are no longer there.

That fact is the most painful. The most terrifying.

—In just over half a year, I am on the verge of becoming a first-tier

adventurer, an einherjar in anyone's eyes.

In the back of my mind, I remember the words of the woman I look

up to like an older sister.

Einherjar.

That word has another meaning in the language of the deities.

It refers to dead warriors.

Fated to die beneath the sun, only to be revived again by the moon.

And in accordance with that, the things I cling to become simpler and

simpler, until only one thing is left.

Until she is all that remains.

"Hey, Bell, why don't you sleep with me tonight?"

"…Eh?"

Night has fallen and I'm back in the goddess's chamber.

She is beautiful like always.

There is a sacred dignity about her, her silver hair tied back, wearing

an elegant nightgown.

Meanwhile I'm exhausted to the bone like an old man.

My brain can barely function and what little of my rationality

remains is desperately trying to avoid doing any discourteous.

"I won't do anything to you. I promise…So why not sleep here

tonight?"

…I suppose that's fine.

If nothing's going to happen, then I, who have no one to cling to

other than her, have no reason to resist the temptation. She's kinder

than anyone I know.

I nod like a child and climb into her canopied bed.

I'm wrapped in a silk blanket.

At first, I stare up at the ceiling.

But soon her hand rests on my cheek, turning my head to the side.

Her face is lying there right before my eyes.

"Hey, Bell. Is there anything you want?"

"Anything I want…?"

"Yes. Wealth and honor, strength and legacy, the seat of the hero,

even the world itself…or someone's heart. Whatever you want, I

promise I will get it and give it to you."

"...…"

"So is there anything you want?"

My answer…comes easily.

"Nothing…I don't need anything."

I'm scared she might accuse me of rejecting her kindness, but…she

smiles.

"Yes, I had a feeling you would say that."

"Eh?"

"It's because this is who you are. That's why I fell for you."

Am I being tested?

I can't tell.

But her eyes are kinder, softer than I have ever seen before as she

whispers in my ear.

"I like you, Bell…I like you so much."

Her outstretched arms embrace my head and hold me to her breast.

She feels so good and smells so nice—but more than anything, she's

warm.

So warm that I want to stay in that embrace forever.

…Isn't this enough?

Can't I just accept it?

Accept that the memories, the feelings, the encounters that I've

been holding on to this whole time are all just a dream?

Couldn't I be forgiven for wanting to be free from this nightmare?

She's warm. So warm. I'm comfortable at her side.

Her fingers caress my hair like she's soothing a child. I feel at peace.

Her tender lips brush against my head and heal the wounds carved into my body and soul. The goddess's cradle melts so many things

away as it embraces me.

Is it really wrong to indulge in this love?

Haven't I done enough?

…But.

...But.

...…But—

If I forget her, if I forget this feeling that made me reject Syr, then I

won't remember why I hurt her.

No matter how much it hurts, and even if it's all just fake, I know for

a fact that I hurt her.

I made her cry.

If I forget the reason why…if I laugh it off as all just a dream…that

would be unforgivable.

—I'm Bell Cranell, the absolute fool who can't lie to himself.

No matter how sweet the salvation before me, unless I've already

lost everything…I can't reach out my hand and take it.

Wavering in the space between thoughts, my journey unending, I

close my eyes.

As my consciousness fades, I suddenly realize something.

She—Lady Freya—has stopped saying she loves me.

That night I dreamed of sleeping in the embrace of a girl with blue-

gray hair.

Unlike the past several days, the sky is clear today.

It's painfully bright and blue for my tired eyes.

After spending a night in Lady Freya's embrace, morning has arrived.

I wake up in her chamber, leave the bed that's already empty, and go

back to my room to clean up. When I open my door—a single elf is

standing there.

"Master…?"

The morning sun is coloring the long white palatial corridor.

It's so bright, I reflexively squint and put my hand up to shade my

face, but I can't help but still notice his coral eyes fixed on me.

"Are you neglecting the baptism to go out again today?"

"…Yes…"

As my eyes gradually adjust, I nod weakly.

My struggle continues as I use every single opportunity to go outside.

Obviously to search for anything that would confirm me. But right

now I'm only interested in the fate of one girl.

Syr.

While the world differs from my memories, she is the only one who

has completely disappeared. I don't want to accept that's reality. I

did not want to believe that she was just a figment of my

imagination.

Even though I could just use whatever excuse to escape the battle

and go outside to rest for a little while, I still fully intend to explore

all around the city again.

"…Unsightly. Intolerable," Master says while looking at me. "Don't

drag anyone else down in your quest for self-satisfaction. Go by

yourself."

"Eh? But…"

"If you get yourself cursed again, Lady Freya will be disappointed in

you. It will simply mean that her love was too great for you to bear."

Master has a look of disgust on his face, and he turns away as soon

as he's said his piece.

I can only stand there, but before I realize it, I call out to him.

"Master…Hedin…"

"...…"

"Am I…crazy?"

Battle has already been joined on the field outside the window.

The roars of the warriors are ringing out beneath the blue sky.

My gaze falls, and I'm losing sight of myself as I ask him that

question.

"Whether you would be a heretic or not is irrelevant."

He stops, not turning around, but pausing for just a moment, he

gives me an answer.

"Move forward. Standing still is what is unforgivable."

Leaving behind those words, he walks away.

Looking up, my eyes are wide for several moments, but finally, I turn

around and begin walking.

The boy's presence was still plagued by doubt, but it gradually

turned in the opposite direction.

Sensing that behind him, Hedin walked without hesitation to a

certain place.

"Van. Remove Bell Cranell's guard and observers."

"Huh…? Wh-what do you mean, sir?"

He went to the back entrance of the home and delivered an order to

the three-person party led by the half-prum.

"There are signs that Loki Familia's expedition to the Deep Levels is

returning. We've received a report from the spies watching the

Dungeon."

"…! Loki Familia is…?"

"Yes. Lady Riveria the Thousand Elf and the rest of their group are by

no means a minor force. We must safeguard the sandbox."

That one report was enough to cause their expressions to change

dramatically.

Hedin calmly explained the situation and gave them new

instructions.

"It would be possible to send Hörn directly herself, but there is no

telling when an Irregular might occur in the Dungeon. We will take

care of them with absolute certainty at Babel the moment they

leave. Allen and the Gullivers are already en route. You are to join

them as well."

"Yes sir!"

"Take the lookouts currently stationed at The Benevolent Mistress

and other key points with you. We will need more numbers than

what the second tier can provide to ensure that none escape. I will

set new lookouts myself."

No one raised any questions about the order coming from the white

elf who served as the familia's strategist.

While acknowledging his understanding of the logical battle orders,

Van finished with a question.

"What of Bell? It's true that there is probably no need to strictly

watch him anymore, but…"

Bell was already functionally a walking corpse.

No one in the familia doubted that.

It was clear as day that he would obey Freya's divine will before long.

"That will not be a problem."

Hedin's answer was simple.

"I will observe him myself."

Even though there is not a single cloud in the sky, it's cold outside.

Autumn is drawing to a close, but today is particularly cold for the

season. It's almost like it were actually winter. Tonight the glow of

fireplaces will probably join the city's dazzling magic-stone lights.

I return my gaze back in front of me. I can't see anyone on West

Main Street dressed lightly. Even the occasional adventurer has

warm clothes on. The members of the Guild walking around are

probably carrying firewood to supply each district of the city.

"Look…it's Rabbit Foot."

"Freya Familia's…!"

A murmur like birds chirping begins to swirl around me.

I'm already used to it.

The curious and awestruck gazes follow me as I walk around in Freya

Familia's uniform. The normal people living in the city and the

merchants, none of them doubting that Bell Cranell is a member of

the city's strongest faction.

I'm tired of denying it and being hurt all over again, so I just bear it

and proceed along Main Street while mostly looking down at the

ground, my heart numb.

The building I'm headed for stands at the corner of a major

intersection.

The Benevolent Mistress.

"Oh! He's back, meow! Freya Familia's white rabbit!"

"We told you, there isn't any kid named Syr here. You really don't

know when to give up, do you?"

When I enter the tavern, Chloe and Runoa, who appear to greet new

customers, grimace when they see me. I can't remember anymore

how many times I've come here.

"I know your scheme! You just created a fake girl and are pretending

to go around looking for her as an excuse to get close to some other

girls! That's so sneaky and shady! You would have had a better shot

seducing me with that nice butt of yours! Okay, come around to the

back of the tavern meow!"

"What are you doing, you stupid cat?"

I can't bring myself to smile at their familiar banter.

The look in their eyes when they glance over at me makes it painfully

obviously that they think we're strangers.

And I do not have the strength of will left right now to try to forge a

new bond with them.

"If you're not going to offer up your bottom to me, then shoo! Hurry

up and beat it!"

"You don't have any filter, do you…? I guess it's true he's interrupting

business. If you don't plan on buying anything, you mind heading

out? We've got a ton of work since our elven coworker hasn't come

back. And Ahnya isn't coming out to work right now, either…"

Their cold, businesslike words claw at my heart, and I'm worried

about Lyu.

I have also been searching for a clue about what had happened to

her, but they at least know who she is. Because of that, I end up

focusing more on Syr's whereabouts.

Trying to prove someone ever existed is more difficult than trying to

track down someone who people still know and remember.

And Ahnya is apparently feeling unwell and not working today, too…

"What are ya chatterin' about, you ijits! If y'all've got time for that,

then get out and take care of the errands!"

""Eep?! R-right away!""

Suddenly an angry shout resounds through the tavern.

Chloe and Runoa jolt, turning pale as they run into the back of the

tavern.

Dumbfounded, I look over to see Mia, the owner, standing behind

the counter.

"...…"

"…?"

Mia's eyes silently dart around.

She's glancing at me…no, outside?

It's probably just my misunderstanding, but it seems like she's being

cautious of someone who might be watching. She quietly goes about

her preparations for opening that evening.

There are no other customers, so Mia is the only other person inside

the shop.

An odd moment passes between us.

"Kid."

Mia has not said a single word to me since the Goddess Festival, but

just when I can't bear the silence anymore and start to leave the shop, she stops me with an awkward and apologetic expression on

her face.

"Eh?"

"I have no intention of saying anything to the goddess. I swore not to

get in the way when the time came."

…?

What is she…?

"I'd love to roast the damned fools who laid their hands on those

stupid girls, but…"

"Wh-what are you saying…?"

"I'm Freya Familia."

"!"

I'm shocked by the sudden announcement.

"You know I'm half-retired from the familia, right?" Mia continues as

I stare at her agitatedly. "In other words, not helpin' out is my form

of resistance, and what I'm about to tell you is outright rebellion."

Saying that, she looks up, and looks right at me for the first time.

"'Bein' an adventurer ain't about lookin' cool.'"

My breath catches.

"'The last one standin' is top of the pack's all there is.'"

My hands are trembling.

"So believe in yourself and stay standing."

Ignoring my stunned reaction, Mia looks me in the eyes as she

finishes her message.

"

—Just keep on runnin'."

It feels like the world I'm seeing suddenly changes shades.

I stand stock-still for several moments before somehow managing to

get my lips to move and begin to ask a jumbled question.

"...M-Mia, that was…"

But before I can finish, her eyes flare and she shouts at me.

"Go on and git! I don't have food to serve the likes of you!"

"Huh?!"

"I'm sayin' an adventurer lookin' so grim and depressed is gonna

drive away my customers and hurt business! Git and don't come

back 'til you ain't so tirin' to look at!"

"I-I'm sorry?!"

I leave The Benevolent Mistress after being forcibly driven out.

I run without thinking, desperate to escape her terrifying

shouts…and when I finally slow to a walk, my heart is hammering.

My breathing returns to normal, but my pulse is still racing.

I can't get my head around it. Everything is still fuzzy.

What she told me…those words just now…

"Bein' an adventurer ain't about lookin' cool. Just worry about not

gettin' yourself killed to start with."

"The last one standin' is the top of the pack. Pathetic or not's got

nothin' to do with it."

That was what Mia said to me…way back, at the very beginning of

my time here, half a year ago…

Freya Familia's Bell Cranell has no connection with Mia, though.

There's no mistaking that. Then why?

Is it just a coincidence?

Does Mia know I'm going through the baptism?

Was it just a bit of encouragement from someone who was part of

the same familia?

Or…did it mean something else?

Keep standing, until the end…believe in myself and stay standing…?

What was Mia trying to tell me?

What was she trying to convey?

Should I go back and ask her? But I have a feeling she would not tell

me anything else. Not until I look less grim.

Was she testing me?

No—was she trying to entrust something to me?

…But…even if she did mean something by it…

My body is already battered.

My mind is worn down.

I'm overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness. What can I even do?

I remember everything leading up to today.

No one remembers me, no one knows me, and they all reject me.

I lost my home, my comrades are gone, and I just want to not be hurt

anymore.

I'm just yielding everything to the goddess, so what can I even do—

"

—All I can do is stand up."

I can feel strength in my hands.

They curl into fists.

My knees that are on the verge of collapsing cry out.

My bruised and battered body that was racked by pain braces itself

and reaches out to the flame still burning inside.

"All I can do is keep believing in myself! And stay standing—!"

Right.

I'm an adventurer.

No matter how miserable.

No matter how pathetic.

Just desperately cling to life.

"

—All I can do is just keep running!"

I run.

The people around me are surprised and look at me like I'm a

madman as I sprint through the crowds.

My back is burning from Mia's push as I race through the city.

Logic can't begin to explain what I'm feeling. I can hear a voice in the

back of my head whispering that I'm just acting like a twitchy rabbit

in a burst of sudden excitement. But even so, I'm not fighting the

impulse driving me.

It's a scary thing to keep believing in yourself. I know that. Before

long, I start wanting to cling to what others say for support. Start

wanting to accept the sweet words of the goddess and everyone

else, to give myself over to them.

But I'm done running away.

I need to stop being scared of getting hurt.

After all, there is still one person I haven't met yet!

"Hah, hah, haaah—!"

I keep running.

Swinging my arms, lifting my legs, no place in mind, just haphazardly

pushing forward, but still believing in myself.

Even if I'm climbing the wrong mountain, that just means my journey

to the peak isn't over yet.

Envisioning the golden flower so far above me, the idol that has

stolen my eyes and my heart.

I'm going to meet her.

"Ghhh—Aiz!"

I call out to the one I adore.

In the northern district of the city, a long manor comes into view.

This is their territory, which I never attempted to approach before.

As I let my ragged breathing go unchecked, I see the girl with long,

beautiful blond hair slowly turn in my direction.

"Huh? Isn't that…?"

"Freya Familia. Why can't you even remember that?"

"Oh, right! It's what's-his-foot, the guy that Loki and them said to be

careful around!"

Aiz is with Tiona and Tione.

I run into them on just a normal street corner. There are lots of

people around us. Tione and Tiona watch me suspiciously, while the

girl I called out to looks surprised.

"Why is someone in Freya Familia calling Aiz, though?"

"What business do you have with us? Are you trying to start a fight

or something?"

"Ghh…!"

Loki Familia and Freya Familia are rivals.

And Tiona's and Tione's eyes are filled with open hostility. They're

looking at Freya Familia's Bell Cranell, like that has always been our

relationship.

Against my will, my heart shudders.

What little sense I have is crying out.

This is a fork in the road.

If she rejects me. If she looks at me the same way Tione is on

guard…if she doesn't remember me, like Tiona, who doesn't call me

Argonaut like always…if she does that, the flame still burning in my

back will most likely go out forever.

My already cracked heart will shatter completely, and I won't be able

to resist anymore when I feel the goddess's affection.

Sweat runs down my back.

My heart feels like it might burst out of my chest.

I can't get my tongue to move how I want.

My heart is wavering like never before as I meet her golden gaze.

"Aiz…do you know me?"

"...…"

"Do you remember everything that happened before?!"

"...…"

It's a question I've asked so many times.

Everyone in Hestia Familia, the waitresses at The Benevolent

Mistress, the orphans on Daedalus Street, multiple gods and

goddesses—they all reacted with suspicion and rejected me. At some

point, despair turned into resignation that threatened to freeze my

throat and limbs.

But I shout it again, brushing off the despair and resignation one last

time.

I lay my irreplaceable feelings out in the open as she watches me.

"What are you talking about? Get away. We're not supposed to have

anything to do with you guys."

"Let's go, Aiz."

"Ah—

"

The sisters who rejected me like everyone else move between me

and my idol.

They get between us while trying to move past me.

My body won't listen to me. I can't extend my hand.

I can only manage a hoarse sound.

My legs are trembling, and my heart is thundering as I slump over.

There's no hope.

The flame in my back starts to gutter as my despair grows, when—

As she passes, she takes my hand.

" "

I look up.

I stare at her with wide-open eyes.

Aiz stops and is gripping my hand firmly.

Her eyes are widened, too, like mirrors as her slender fingers

squeeze my hand.

"A-Aiz?"

"Wh-what are you doing?"

Tione and Tiona are openly confused as time stops for the two of us.

Everything around me fades. She is all that is reflected in my eyes. I

can't bring myself to say anything.

Her lips tremble slightly.

"...D…"

And finally, she speaks.

"Do you want to train?"

"""Huh?"""

The sisters and I have the same reaction.

Our eyes narrow, and our jaws hang slack at the utterly out-of-

nowhere question.

Ignoring our reaction, Aiz looks extraordinarily serious as she

desperately tries to put her thoughts into words.

"I…I knocked you out so many times…"

"Ehh?"

"And then let you rest on my lap…"

"Wai—

"

"And when you woke up, I knocked you out again…"

"A-Aiz?"

I, Tione, and Tiona all freeze, unable to string any words together as

Aiz closes her eyes for a moment as if something is hurting her, and

then she leans toward me.

"I feel like I have to fight with you on the city wall."

"

—!"

"I feel like I have to teach you and learn from you."

It's like she's struggling to express the emotions in her heart.

It's like she's gathering the fragments of a dream that she can't

remember.

My golden idol answers my call.

"I feel like I made a promise with someone…who said they wanted to

become strong…"

The feelings put into those words beneath the sunrise, after meeting

the Xenos, after that struggle.

Bell Cranell swore that in front of Aiz Wallenstein. A promise and

resolve.

That morning was why I started running again—

—Ahhhhhh.

My knees give out.

But it's not a surrender to despair.

It's hope, a feeling of release that I can't restrain anymore.

"…!"

I drop to my knees on the ground, holding her right hand in both of

mine and pressing it to my forehead as I tremble.

I can hear a gasp from above me. A swell of curiosity from the people

around us. But I don't mind.

My eyes are hidden behind my hair as tears fall to my knees.

It's nothing so impressive as a knight swearing a vow to a princess.

But as I cry shamelessly like a child, I also renew my feelings toward

the one I adore.

That is all.

"...…"

"…Are…you okay?"

How long have I been in this state?

I desperately try to get my sobs and my trembling heart under

control as I wipe my eyes and slowly stand back up.

Aiz is stunned.

She might not even know why she said what she did.

But that's enough for me.

As Tione and Tiona watch in bewilderment, I look into her golden

eyes and lay my feelings bare.

"I'm glad you're the one I admire."

My face is still wet from the tears as I smile from the very depths of

my heart.

"It wasn't wrong to meet you at all."

Aiz gazes in wonder as her slender hand rests against her breast.

I smile one last time, and then let the white-hot determination that

has erupted inside me lead me forward.

"I'm going now."

With just those parting words, I start running.

I'm gone in a flash, leaving Aiz and the twins behind.

My body accelerates by leaps and bounds. I overtake person after

person, becoming faster than anyone as the world rushes past me on

either side.

The moment of my first cry.

The moment I let my feelings loose.

Together with the flame raging in my back again, I set out to confirm

the miracle my idol has given me, to confirm the path I walk.

I'm running to the field of battle where a brave warrior awaits me.

—At that moment, it almost feels like a fairy who had been watching

over me through it all looked away.

Smashing.

Crashing.

I target the rhomphaia trying to tear through me, slamming the

baselard in my hand into it with all of my might.

Today is furiously heated, and I'm engaged in a fiery struggle, driven

by the feelings roaring inside me.

"Hwah!"

Sparks fly from my slash, and there is surprise in Master's eyes as our

blades clash.

Folkvangr is lit by the sun in the west.

Having returned to the battlefield of dead warriors, I hurled myself

into the swirling death match once more.

I've fallen dozens of times. The constant attacks have battered me

and my endless wounds trouble the healers over and over. But even

so, my will never broke.

Instead of just relying on survival instinct and a fear of death, I

transform my vow to overcome this trial into kindling, and the flames

of my spirit roar as I let loose a battle cry that reaches the heavens.

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

I slice upward with the knife in my right hand and unleash a

horizontal slash with the baselard in my left.

They are both deflected by the rhomphaia being spun at high speed

like a fan, but still I advance.

A thunderous clash of metal rings out. The rhythm of blades echoes

across the fields. At some point, the refrain of attack and

counterattack composed all around us fades, until only ours remains.

The other members of Freya Familia have stopped, standing still and

lowering their weapons, completely focused on our fight.

Heith and the other healers forget their other tasks and fix their gaze

on us.

Hegni, who was part of the clash until just a little bit ago, is also

staring at us from a half step away.

I focus every bit of my attention on the opponent in front of me as

countless sets of eyes follow my movements.

The rhomphaia thrusts toward me with a sharp whoosh.

I pull through by slamming it from the side with my knife.

My skin is just barely sliced by the blade as its path shifts by the

tiniest of increments, and then I mount my counterattack,

performing a rush that takes full advantage of my speed and number

of attacks.

I use the techniques I stole from her through so much training and

repetition!

Silver, silver, and silver again. Arcs of light carve through the air with

each attack. The knife and baselard in my hands cross and change

places as I continue my charge, all while Master blocks every blow as

he watches me with silent shock.

In the midst of a series of slashes that might well be considered rash

when my opponent is a first-tier adventurer, I unleash everything I

gained from our training on the city wall in a single explosion.

Remember.

I remember!

I remember it all!

The Sword Princess's technique of deflecting and parrying by striking

the opponent's weapon from the side at an angle!

The swordsmanship style I copied from Aiz in battle, which I studied

in order to catch up to her even just a little bit more!

Her experience and history that Phryne saw in my fighting!

My body has not forgotten the things my idol taught me!

I'm not Freya Familia's Bell Cranell at all!

No matter how the world might reject me, even if all the deities and

people deny me, the techniques and skills engraved in my body

reassure me.

My encounters with the Sword Princess and all the training on the

city wall were reality. The lessons she taught me are still firmly

rooted inside me.

And it's not just her teachings, either.

Van mentioned it, too—my habit of letting my right arm float

upward. It was none other than Lyu who endured hell with me in the

Deep Levels who first pointed it out and suggested I try to correct it!

Why hadn't I noticed it sooner?

Why had I mistaken what they taught me for my own strength?

How egotistical could I be?

I'm weak and can't do anything by myself! I only managed to get

where I am with the help of so many people!

I'm Hestia Familia's Bell Cranell!!!

There is only ever one answer possible.

I trace the path I walked, confirming it, and use it to construct a solid,

unshakable core for myself. All the battles I endured before, they are

all reflected inside me.

Don't be afraid. Don't flinch away.

I'm done closing my eyes, plugging my ears, and averting my eyes

from it!

I will prove what she taught me in this fight and reclaim who I am!

"Struggle for eternity, indestructible soldiers of lightning!"

I'm pushed back by a powerful swing of the rhomphaia, opening

some distance between us, when Master begins casting, aiming to

land an immediate strike.

"Caurus Hildr!"

Middle range. Abandoning the more optimal longer range for his

magic, he unleashes a massive fusillade. The wide-area destruction

magic mercilessly rains down toward me.

In response, I shout.

"Firebolt!"

Eight streaks of crimson lightning clash with the spray of white

lightning.

I can't hope to negate all the bolts crashing down on me like undying

soldiers.

But I only need to cancel out a few of them.

I unleash several rounds of firebolts, one after the other, and they

slam into some of the bolts of incoming lightning, canceling each

other out.

It's just the briefest moment. In that instant, my legs flash, and I

twist myself through the small path forward I've wrenched open, my shoulders and thighs scorched as they skim past the lightning, and I

break through the volley.

"!"

His coral eyes are wide. Instantaneously, not giving him time to

prepare the next round, I unleash a full swing with my baselard.

The white elf easily deflects the strike that used all of my strength.

"Ghhh?!"

My baselard gets caught by his twisted rhomphaia and knocked

skyward out of my hand with a metallic clang.

Not enough. I've expended an enormous amount of magical power

and caught him off guard, but it's still not enough to land a blow on a

first-tier adventurer.

My body shudders from the force of his strike, revealing a decisive

opening.

Seeing that, Master's eyes flare, and his weapon flashes toward me.

My mind goes blank.

My whole body erupts in flame.

I only need one thing.

I break free from the flow of time as my soul roars and the memories

engraved in my body activate.

Guards are lowest while delivering the final blow.

I hear her voice as I rush toward what lies beyond.

The moment you're cornered—!

A spin.

Master's eyes widen as he disappears from my view. I go with the

momentum as my body spins in the air like a top. The thrusting

rhomphaia grazes my back. It splits the skin on my back. But so

what? As if tracing the movements she made in my memory, we

change positions and I end up behind Hedin!

"

—Is your best chance!"

I shout the lesson she taught me, unleashing a strike using the knife

in my right hand that I held on to throughout it all.

" ghhhh?!"

I pour everything into my knees, which are screaming at me,

unleashing the fastest spinning slash I can.

An attack from beyond his field of view—but even so, Master

manages to react in time.

Exhaling with a shudder, he twists his body, escaping out of range

with his ultrafast reflexes.

It was unmistakably a slash with every bit of me poured into it. And it

cut the air.

There is a thud as we both kick the ground, opening a significant

distance between us. The baselard finally falls to the ground in the

crimson setting sun, sticking out of the ground halfway between the

two of us.

My breathing is uncontrollably ragged. My body is covered in

wounds.

Meanwhile, Master is entirely unruffled, his expression calm and cool

enough to make me despair as he watches in silence.

But.

As he stands with the setting sun at his back…he quietly wipes his

cheek with a finger.

"…He wounded…Hedin…"

Hegni murmurs.

The moment they realize what happened, the rest of the familia

becomes noisy.

Heith looks like she can't believe what she is seeing. She looks back

and forth between Master and me.

There is a single cut on his handsome features.

A new drop of crimson blood trickles down his white cheek.

That's all it is. Just a single scratch.

But it reached him.

A strike imbued with everything I've learned and experienced, a

strike that encompassed all of Bell Cranell has reached him.

I proved the teachings of the one I adore. I breathe heavily, my

shoulders heaving as I clench my fist.

"...…"

Master looks at the finger that he used to wipe the blood, and then

slowly looks at me.

Meeting his gaze, I respond.

"Master…I'm me."

Whatever anyone might think, whatever might come of it, I shout

the feelings swelling in my breast.

"I'm Bell Cranell!"

My voice resounds.

The field immediately falls quiet. No one says anything. Forgetting

what they saw, what they heard, everything, vacillating between

reality and illusion.

Suddenly, the setting sun flickers.

The light of the setting sun burns my eyes, and for an instant, I

squint.

And shrouded in that crimson light, his back still to the sun, for just a

moment, it almost looks like Master's lips curl into the slightest

smile…

"What nonsense are you babbling about? Don't get so uppity over a

mere scratch." "Ogfh?!"

"If you want to celebrate, at least save it for after you manage to

dirty my clothes a bit."

While I'm blinking away the sunlight, Master somehow teleports

right in front of me before delivering a magnificent kick right to my

stomach. I already used every last bit of energy I had left, so I can't

defend against it. All I can do is crumple and fall to the ground with a

muffled grunt.

Master is the same as always…!

"I would like to crush you for getting cocky…but it's sunset. Let's go

back."

With that, Master turns his back and begins walking away.

As if a spell has been released, the rest of the familia members

suddenly shudder and begin moving again.

They glance over at me before they head up the hill to the manor.

Even Heith, who watched in silence. Even Hegni, who sheathed his

sword without a word.

Lit by the fading red twilight, the shadows of the warriors extend out

into the sea of green.

The scene that felt so hopelessly sorrowful the first time I saw it now

has a different feeling.

As I plant my hand on the ground to push myself up, between the

fingers of my hands, the white flowers of the field still sway

stubbornly.

Red light filtered through the window.

The setting sun lit the face of the silent god.

"Lord Hermes, please just do your work already…How much

paperwork are you planning to let pile up?"

"…Hm, ah, apologies."

Hermes finally responded vacantly to the voice of one of his

followers, the war tiger Falgar.

The room was plastered with countless land and sea maps, making it

look like the home of a serial traveler—his chamber in Hermes

Familia's home.

Hermes was sitting in his chair in front of a mountain of paperwork

that Falgar had constructed on a desk that was already cluttered

with chess pieces, a sand clock, and all sorts of other items.

"If you keep on slacking off like this, it's seriously going to be a

problem…What are you going to do about all this?"

"Lord Hermessss, I'm begging you, please get it together."

Falgar looked weary and exhausted, and behind him the chienthrope

Lulune kicked open the door as she brought in another armful of

papers to be dealt with.

Hermes Familia served as couriers and information merchants while

also supporting travelers and handling business propositions from

various merchants while also exploring the Dungeon. Essentially

covering every sort of project. Because of that, they received documents regarding progress reports, contracts, and every sort of

paperwork imaginable from all sorts of directions, at times creating a

level of office work that made even members of the Guild blanche.

"And Asfi's out now, too."

"More precisely, she's gone missing…the number of falna responses

hasn't gone down, so I'm sure she's safe, but where in the world did

she go?"

Hermes was naturally inclined to putting off work, but this time was

far worse than usual, and work had stalled completely.

It was almost entirely due to the fact that the familia's capable

leader, who usually handled the paperwork while complaining the

entire time, was currently absent.

Lulune and Falgar were lamenting the mountain of paperwork that

just kept growing even with them helping out, too, realizing again

just how great Asfi really was.

"And we were given the job of delivering the firewood this year,

too…I wonder why the Guild didn't just leave it to Ganesha Familia

like always."

Lulune grumbled as she slumped down in the nearest chair.

Hermes intertwined his fingers as he listened, and questioned

himself.

—Huh, am I in a loop?

It was an absurd question, but his expression was deadly serious, and

a cold sweat formed on the back of his neck.

How long? When did the days that seemed normal turn into

something abnormal?

Hermes noticed it.

Even while being twisted by some outside power, he realized that it

was incredibly likely that the days they were living through were

abnormal, off in some fatal way that he could not perceive.

While everyone else living in Orario, adventurers and deities alike,

failed to notice, he alone was closing in on the truth.

I have some evidence. Slight twists hiding in the shadow of the

normal day-to-day. More specifically, there is something that does not

match up between what I did during the past half year and how I acted

before that…

It not was something Loki or Hephaistos could notice. Because he so

regularly left the city on trips, he alone could realize it.

There is no way I just stayed in one place for so long without going

out on one of my trips. Yet I've been here for the past half year—no,

the past four months…

The reason my travels stopped is probably because something was

tying me down here to the city. So what could it be?

—I don't know. It's not that I can't remember, I literally can't

recognize it.

Hermes inhaled sharply as his thoughts progressed.

It was the first time he could observe the unnatural reality from an

outside observer's perspective, that some external factor was

affecting him.

He was unable to recognize reality, as if some limit had been placed

on him.

The most conclusive point is this letter that I received…

Opening the drawer on the right side of his desk, he pulled out a

letter.

His hand shook as he stared at it. There was no sender or return

address on it.

"Stiiiiill no update?"

When he first saw the message accompanied by a scribbled picture

that had been delivered to him, before he could even be annoyed,

Hermes was shocked.

—Did I slack off while contacting Zeus?

It was a matter that Hermes had conducted with regularity.

Hermes maintained contact with a certain great god who was no

longer in the city.

Always careful not to let anyone suspect, occasionally going himself,

that was Hermes's job as the god of messengers and something he

did out of respect for the old bond he shared with that great god. A

secret between just the two of them that no others knew of.

And Hermes had neglected it for more than three months.

No, it was difficult to believe that he had actually just neglected it.

He could not explain it, and it was nothing more than supposition,

but he believed it was likely that he had not had time to make

contact.

And the reason for that was a turbulent span of three months.

There was no other explanation for why the shrewd god of

messengers would cease communication.

The problem is that those turbulent three months are nowhere to

be found in my memories or in any of the city's records. It's a stretch,

but I could at least chalk up all of the city's records not mentioning

anything after being deliberately altered. But what about my

memories? The only explanation is that they were manipulated at

some point without my noticing.

The turbulent three months—he could not remember the Xenos

incident, dealing with Knossos, and all the cleanup required for such massive events. Because they all involved a certain someone, he was

unable to acknowledge them.

The divergence caused by the barrier between conscious and

unconscious forced the god to notice the contradiction.

And most likely…I'm experiencing a loop of some sort in my

thoughts!

There was a stack of parchment for memos held by a pin on

Hermes's desk.

It had shrunken drastically. Dozens of them had been torn off.

All told, seventy-seven had been used.

There were charred fragments of parchment left around the torch,

proof that they had been disposed of.

Of course, Hermes didn't remember doing it. He had asked Falgar

and the others, but they all insisted they had not touched anything of

his, and none of them were lying.

The only person who had gotten rid of them could only be himself.

He had burned the memos.

He had written something desperately and then promptly disposed

of it himself. The only explanation was—

For the sake of convenience, I'll call it old me—old me had the same

sense of something being off as current me. And he wrote a memo in

order to leave a note about it—but that infringed on some rule. And

then old me lost consciousness and disposed of that memo…!

That leap of logic was imbued with a divine certainty.

There was some sort of trigger, and the moment he engaged with it,

Hermes would forget everything and erase all traces of it himself

before resetting his thoughts.

And that reset triggered by a sense of something being off had

occurred at least seventy-seven times.

The moment he happened upon that hypothesis, Hermes felt an

uneasy chill.

To be able to do something like that in a way that we deities don't

notice, making sure that no one senses anything…!

Falgar and Lulune looked at Hermes as his lips twisted at the

realization that even deities were being turned into puppets.

"Hey, Falgar, did I ask you to give me a message three days ago?"

"…That again, Lord Hermes? How often are you going to do this?

How many days has it been already?"

"Now now, it's just a bit of game for the gods…Anyway, what did I

tell you?"

"Haaah…'loop,' 'reset,' 'not just me,' 'Lulune next.' Just that

incomprehensible string of words."

Falgar sighed as he responded. Hermes's mouth clamped shut as he

slipped back into deep thought.

Most likely, the old Hermes had also recognized that his memos

were being destroyed and changed methods when he realized that

writing things down would not work. And that new method was

leaving messages for himself through his followers.

Most likely they are being twisted just like I am…but by passing

along messages like this without feeling anything suspicious about the

current situation means they're not infringing on any hard rule.

First was Falgar, then Lulune, and then Merrill…the old Hermes had

feared his followers' thoughts being reset, so he had not left too

much with any one person, and limited his message to only

fragmentary thoughts, explaining it to them half-jokingly as just a

message passing game played by gods to pass the time And linking together all that information—

A loop in thoughts, reset, and it's not just happening to me. The

world is twisted. An overwhelming coercion. No one remembers. An

inability to recognize certain information. Or else misrecognition…

Hermes shuddered.

How many past Hermeses had fallen in order to pass that

information safely onto the next Hermes? It made him want to praise

his past selves who had uncovered so much of the rules twisting the

world already. It was enough to earn a snarky smile at his own tear-

jerking dedication and devotion.

What is clear from the fact that I'm thinking about this right now is

that my thoughts and words are not being restrained currently. But

based on the old Hermeses' information, there is one or several

absolute rules. And if I violate any rule, I will immediately lose my

memory and repeat the cycle…

For everything else that he was, Hermes was still a god.

Even while being violated by a powerful magic, to be able to get that

close to the truth without relying on other people or even trusting

himself entirely. He was undeniably one of the shrewdest deusdea.

Most likely it's safe up to the point of something feeling off. But

outright suspicion probably crosses the line. The moment that various

odd feelings add up to something that might endanger this scenario,

everyone…or at least everyone in Orario…unconsciously transforms

into puppets. And on top of that, trying to actively figure out who

created this situation is probably taboo, too.

Deities were omniscient. It was possible to make predictions based

on what was happening, but it was crucial that he not probe past a

certain point.

He policed his thoughts in a way that no mortal could begin to

emulate, achieving a literally godlike discipline, while also being

careful to avoid any unwanted leaps of imagination.

Constantly wondering at what point he might be forcibly turned into

a puppet again, Hermes left a tiny update of information with Thane,

who eyed his god in exasperation. He assumed Hermes was just

playing around again.

Still, though, being able to twist even deities, and without using

arcanum at that. The only thing that could do that is some really crazy

wine, or else her—ah, crap.

Thus Hermes met his two hundred and thirty-third reset.

And so Hermes's thoughts went through the same loop over the

course of another day.

In the same manner, by the same process—thanks to the clues

provided by the past versions of Hermes, it went faster than the first

time—he noticed the oddity in the world, and Falgar and the others

were reaching their limit at being forced to play a fruitless message-

passing game yet again. It was humiliating having to endure all of

that.

Unable to bear it, Hermes left home alone, without any guard.

"Come on now, I'm Hermes, right? Always aloof and above it all, the

ultimate trickster and all-around cool guy who always gets things

done with a snap…Why do I have to struggle so hard?…It's like I'm

turning into Takemikazuchi or Asfi…"

Rudely referring to a certain god of war and his follower without any

hesitation, Hermes sighed.

He was struck by an overwhelming urge to vent on Takemikazuchi or

another deity like him, but he stopped himself. If he went too far and ticked off that god of war, skinny Hermes would be the one who

would end up getting tossed around.

Coincidentally, the time was evening, around the same time as he

had realized the situation last night, too. The street was peaceful

beneath the western sun, crowded with villagers and adventurers

returning from the Dungeon.

…Hypothetically, if I suppose this situation is a sandbox…Based on

the factors that cause a mental correction, the mastermind behind it

wants to maintain peace and order in this world.

It was unclear whether it was intended to be for a limited time or

indefinite.

But there was no intention to savage the mortal realm by turning all

beings into mindless puppets. The fact that Hermes and the others

maintained their free will was proof of that.

Maintaining Orario as an unchanged city of heroes…The most likely

reason for such a circuitous tack is because the mastermind had no

choice but to twist the world for the sake of something or someone

that could not be bent. To create a paradise and a prison for someone.

That is the true nature of this sandbox.

And the moment he thought of some opening to possibly break out

of the sandbox, his thoughts would be reset.

It was no good. He was blocked off in all directions.

The conclusion Hermes came to was that even if he could guess at

the outline of the sandbox, as long as he could not understand the

precise rules and core of it, he could not plot any way to break free.

An inescapable mental game. Hermes had been in checkmate long

ago. From the moment he had fallen prey to it, there was nothing he

could do and no way for him to break free. It was all just pointless

struggle from the start.