Machine Translated By:
- Cirdan Lunae
Japanese to English Checking By:
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As much as it was necessary, the certainty that this was an unprecedented situation only grew deeper.
Among the events that had taken place in Lugunica recorded in the history books, was a case resembling this unusual situation, but in that sequence of events, the case was not treated as anything major.
――The Demi-Human War.
It was a mass-scale civil war that occurred in Lugunica’s past, the only recorded instance in history in which the dead had risen as enemies as they were now doing.
However, the main focus of the history books had centered around the friction between the humans and the demi-human tribes, and the extraordinary attacks carried out as part of the civil war had not been recorded in detail.
That was regrettable. Had the details of that time been recorded in more depth――,
???: [I’m not gonna fall behind these guys!!]
With a roar and a swing of his fist, a group of Imperial Soldiers, each pallid in complexion, were blown away all at once.
Riding off the energy that had been vigorously drawn up from the ground he firmly stepped on, he unleashed a blow with all his might, one that was perhaps closer to a cleave than a punch.
In quick succession he repeated the attack a second, and third time, with each blow knocking down the enemy’s formation. ――No, it was not anything impressive like a formation.
At first glance, the silhouettes of the enemy approached side-by-side, but they had no such thing as tactical leadership, coordination, or strategy. If that were the case, they were simply a cluster of individuals.
If they were merely a cluster of individuals, Garfiel would not be caught lagging behind.
???: [Zeh-ah! Zuah!]
With a sharp lunge, a double slash grazed Garfiel’s neck.
Feeling his hair standing on end, he glared at his opponent; having suddenly appeared kicking away the fragments of a shattered undead, was another undead clad in an air different from the others.
With a click of his tongue, he raised his shoulder and checked his neck, where the tip of the sword had slightly grazed him.
The extent of the slash was about a finger’s length difference between the first and second blows. It was the technique of a master who would deliberately demonstrate a blow that could be dodged, only to then attempt to lop off the opponent’s head with a second.
They were nothing more than a cluster of individuals without any formation, but occasionally among them, there were those who had this level of skill.
As a result, it had become a bit more troublesome than expected, and he assumed that there was one skilled undead out of every twenty. Because of this, he could not carelessly support his allies by saying that they would be fine as long as they worked together.
Based on one assessment of the situation, it was quite possible that a formation of a hundred men could be destroyed by a single skilled undead.
Skilled Undead: [Zeh-ah! Zuah――!]
Garfiel wrinkled his nose, whereupon the undead again unleashed the same double slash.
Contrary to what had just been shown, the range of the technique had changed to be more daring. Earlier, the difference was a fingertip’s worth, and now it was a fist’s worth. A deep cut the size of a fist would be fatal, no matter how shallow the cut was.
However, the undead who had unleashed the technique widened his eyes, a face in stark contrast to that of one confident in victory.
The reason was simple―― their right arm, which had been holding the sword, had been shattered at the wrist.
Garfiel: [No matter how many obvious tricks ya play, yer grip on the sword’s always the same when ya slash. “Three-Headed Valgren’s got but one body”… Hah!]
He switched over to shatter the left hand, and then drove his fist into his opponent’s astonished face.
As soon as the impact of the blow passed through to the back of its head, the undead’s head was blown away as if it were a fruit bursting open. As its head crumbled, fissures went through its torso and legs, and its whole body shattered.
Garfiel: [This ain’t to my liking.]
Looking down upon the wreckage of his vanquished foe, Garfiel voiced those words.
What irritated Garfiel was the way the undead were defeated and destroyed. Since these things were dead, it would not be appropriate to describe it as a way of dying, and more than anything else, the very way they shattered deprived Garfiel of the feeling that he was fighting against something that had life.
All that remained was a faint cold sensation, questioning just what in the world he was fighting against.
Garfiel wiped the sweat from his chin with his arm, and when he looked around, he saw an incessant stream of undead soldiers on the night plains that had become the battlefield.
In order to combat them, a tactical delay force, which included Garfiel, was in the midst of fighting hard.
Initially, Garfiel had been assigned to a medical unit in order to make good use of his healing magic, but a plan of preventing people from getting injured suited Garfiel’s nature better than treating the injured.
???: [Garf-san, your fidgeting is worrisome! If you’re so restless, go help the people fighting yourself.]
So had said Petra, who was working hard in the same medical unit as Garfiel.
Though it was not because she had insisted, Garfiel rushed outside. In reality, as a volunteer, he thought he was producing some good results.
However, he was not so conceited as to say that he was doing the best work here.
The reason was――,
???: [Do it――!!]
A sharp yell echoed in the black of the night, immediately after which the sound of drawn bow strings firing rang out in succession.
In accordance with the yell from Taritta, the chieftain of the People of Shudraq, a tremendously dense hail of arrows was fired.
Rather than as individual arrows, they fell as a single cluster that left no means to dodge; the only way to evade them was to either catch or repel all of them. In fact, the undead, having no choice but to suffer the attack, each tried to utilize their weapons and shields.
Kuna: [I see it!]
Holly: [Go for it!]
The undead, focused on the sky overhead, were struck by a heavy duty arrow fired from a strong bow by an assertive voice.
Literally, to say that they were shot through would be an understatement; that absurd impact was like being rammed by a dragon carriage going at full speed. The undead that assumed a defensive stance were blown away along with the group behind them at the same time.
Garfiel: [My amazin’ self ain’t supposed to lose to ya, but that’s fuckin’ insane.]
The undead who were weak were eradicated by the rain of arrows which dominated the area, and the undead who were strong and survived that attack were sniped by the strong bow. The rhythm of the coordinated hunters greatly impressed Garfiel.
Even for Garfiel, his movements would halt if he was turned into a hedgehog from getting pierced by arrows, and then in addition to that was the huge damage from the strong bow which he could not dodge. He considered it a relief to have those tactics on his side.
Garfiel: [Well, I got no idea what’s happenin’ over there…]
In contrast to the great strength of the Shudraq, another group won Garfiel’s admiration in a different way—— a group that looked rough around the edges all around, who had accompanied Subaru who had supposedly fought by his lonesome in the Empire; the self-proclaimed Pleiades Battalion.
Pleiades: [LET’S GO LET’S GO LET’S GO LET’S GO――!]
Pleiades: [STRONGEST! INVINCIBLE! BRING IT ON! BRING IT ON!!]
They were abnormally loud in the midst of a nighttime battle, and Garfiel’s eye could not spot anyone exceptionally skilled in martial prowess. Of course, many of them seemed to have refined their techniques to the level of an Imperial Soldier, at any rate.
It was hard to say if the majority of them were trained, but they were good at giving in to their instincts and the way they raged about.
But even so, they were strong. Already, the difference in physical strength was like an adult compared to a child.
???: [It’s beautiful. Their strength is refreshing.]
A voice reached Garfiel, who was staring at the way the Pleiades Battalion fought. When he turned his head, lined up next to him was a woman with dark brown skin and dyed red hair―― Mizelda.
Mizelda, who had a single wooden leg, wore a smile the color of blood towards the Battalion’s violent fighting style.
Garfiel: [I don’t get it, but they have somethin’ to do with the Captain. I do wonder what they’re doin’, but I ain’t worried that it’s bad.]
Mizelda: [Captain… Subaru, is it? Emilia and the others, they put great faith in him.]
Garfiel: [Ha! Faith? A word like that’s an understatement. Captain’s a man, a man who gives back my amazin’ self’s expectations and faith a hundred times over!]
It was neither an exaggeration nor a bluff; from the bottom of his heart, Garfiel held zero doubt in praising him in such a way. At Garfiel’s answer, the quality of Mizelda’s smile changed.
From a mask of war, to something that was somehow calmer and harbored a sense of understanding.
Mizelda: [I also understand that feeling. In the Lifeblood Ritual and in all the subsequent battles, Subaru continued proving himself to us. He’s got the soul of a warrior. Though he may not have a good face for a man, he’d make a good husband for Taritta.]
Garfiel: [Stop talkin’ ‘bout his face! The Captain also worries about tha look in his eyes! Besides…]
Garfiel: [No matter how charmed someone gets by Captain, there’s someone that he’s already decided to fall for.]
Mizelda: [――I see. That’s right.]
Garfiel rubbed his nose with his finger, and Mizelda nodded profoundly.
He was unsure to what extent were her words a joke and to what extent were they genuine praise, but the fact that Subaru was also valued within this Empire made Garfiel proud.
Wherever he was, Subaru involved the people around him and brought about great results.
However, though Subaru could get on exceedingly well wherever he found himself, it was the wish of Garfiel and the collective will of the entire Camp to have him stay with them.
It was for this reason that everyone went through great lengths to rush to the heart of the Empire.
Garfiel: [And yet, they had the nerve to get in the way of our amazin’ selves reunitin’ with the Captain… Hk.]
Garfiel was a military officer, one who loved to compete against the strong. But, he was not a battle junkie who chose to fight anyone and everyone, no matter the time or place.
To reunite with an important companion, to be in a situation in which that delightful reunion time was interrupted by constantly appearing enemies filled his heart not with happiness, but solely with hatred.
Garfiel: [But, they sure are a weird ass lot, ain’t they?]
Mizelda: [The dead coming back to life is unnatural. I understand what you’re saying…]
Garfiel: [Ah, that ain’t what I meant.]
His fangs creaked as he bit them together; Mizelda raised an eyebrow at Garfiel’s mutter.
In a purposeful response to her doubt, Garfiel jerked his chin, directing his gaze towards a group of undead that were still being targeted by the Shudraq’s arrows.
Garfiel: [Look closely ‘n ya can tell… There ain’t a surefire way to kill these guys. Some break with one arrow, while others don’t, even with five arrows in ‘em.]
Mizelda: [There are also some tough beasts. Just like people. Isn’t it the same thing?]
Garfiel: [I know the difference between strong ‘n weak. This ain’t like that…]
He could not explain it well, but from Garfiel’s view, even among the undead appearing roughly equal in strength, he sensed a difference in their level of toughness.
Whether an arrow hit a vital spot or not seemed to have little relevance. Some seemed to be unaffected even when an arrow pierced an eye, while others shattered from a single arrow lodged in their shoulder.
It felt as if simply gauging them by the strength or weakness of their life force——.
Garfiel: [Damn it! Jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout it hurts my head! It’s “a Guiltilaw that fell one step short.” If we jus’ crush ‘em all, it ain’t matter anyway…]
???: [——That is exactly how “a Guiltilaw that fell one step short” would think, iiisn’t~ it?]
At that moment, Garfiel’s shoulders jolted in response to the voice descending from above his head.
When he hastily looked up, there was a silhouette leisurely approaching from the thickly clouded night sky. It steadily grew into the shape of a man that Garfiel could not stand.
???: [Since you are struggling, let me give you a haaand~.]
Garfiel: [Dudley, you bastard…]
???: [Oops. I feel bad saying this after you had finally gotten used to my alias, but after the meeting we had earlier, there’s no longer a need to hide my naaame~. So, as usual, you can…]
Garfiel: [Fuckin’ Roswaal…!!]
Roswaal: [While there’s an unnecessary prefix in there, you can call me that, I don’t miiind~.]
Indeed, Roswaal, who had landed on the ground, was laughing, provoking Garfiel’s irritation.
Since infiltrating Vollachia, he may have concealed his facial makeup and outlandish costumes, but his unique manner of speaking, which likewise should have been sealed away, had returned.
Hearing that the pseudonym had also been lifted, it could be inferred that the discussion in the dragon carriage had probably been settled.
The negotiations that Otto, Frederica, and the others had mentioned before, to reach a consensus regarding their involvement with the Empire—— without twisting Subaru and Emilia’s feelings.
That in itself was a joyous thing for Garfiel.
Garfiel: [If ya finished talkin’, I’d like to hear how it turned out… Beatrice! Have ya changed sides? It’s rare to see ya with that bastard.]
Beatrice: [It’s out of necessity, in fact. If possible, Betty would rather not leave Subaru’s side for even a second, I suppose. But Betty can’t be helped but to be relied upon, in fact.]
With that said, Beatrice flung herself out of Roswaal’s arms.
Since it had been for just one month, Beatrice being active even in Subaru’s absence was still fresh in her memory, so now that she had somehow managed to reunite with Subaru, Garfiel thought that she would have been resolved to never leave his side again.
In fact, just before everyone was about to smother the awoken Subaru in the coupled dragon carriage, the girl had been mumbling along those lines with a completely determined look in her eyes.
For her to leave Subaru’s side, and come to the battlefield with Roswaal——,
Beatrice: [Garfiel, Betty’s here to ascertain the origin of that unease you felt, I suppose.]
Garfiel: [The origin… of that unease?]
Roswaal: [If you go into a battle without knowing your enemy, the results will amount to less than half of what you expected. You compensate for this by knowing your enemy. Especially this enemy, who is shrouded in faaar~ too many mysteries.]
After letting go of Beatrice, Roswaal swung his arms as if feeling somewhat lonely. At the words of those two, Garfiel felt optimistic about the outcome of the conversation, and his fighting spirit surged.
Even though the bearer of this message was the despised Roswaal.
Mizelda: [Not Dudley, but Roswaal… That’s your real name then?]
Roswaal: [Yes, Miss Mizelda. Due to certain reasons, I had to falsify my name. I do apologize. Not only I, but also Emilia-sama, who you knew as Emily, had to do the saaame~.]
Mizelda: [It was done by a man with a nice face. So you are forgiven.]
Beatrice: [What an outrageous basis for a decision, in fact…]
Mizelda digested the issue of the pseudonyms with her own peculiar sense of values.
Beside her, Garfiel gazed towards the pair of Roswaal and Beatrice, and,
Garfiel: [So, the fight’s gonna continue in the Empire, and the reason you two came is…]
Beatrice: [Events outside the realm of reason are best identified by magicians who have the ability to interfere with reason, I suppose.]
Roswaal: [This is a historic collaboration between Lugunica and Vollachia. The most valuable thing the Kingdom can offer in return to them is a magical approach to determining the caaause~.]
If the knowledge of a mage could help to identify the cause of the endless stream of undead, then surely there was no one in the Emilia Camp better qualified to help than Roswaal and Beatrice.
Emilia was a Spiritual Arts User, Ram was the type to rely on her senses, and Petra was still in the process of learning.
Roswaal: [How has it been actually fighting them for a prolonged period? Have you grasped anything?]
Garfiel: [――. I don’t really get the difference between the ones that’re easy to beat ‘n the ones that’re hard to beat. I think there’s a reason apart from whether they’re strong or weak, but…]
Roswaal: [Hmm. So the survivability and vitality of each individual is different?]
Garfiel inwardly clicked his tongue at Roswaal, who was in thought with a long, slender finger on his chin.
It was true that he did not like Roswaal’s every move, but the tongue click just now was not due to irritation with him, but rather for the fact that he was counting on his thoughts and knowledge.
Because, he honestly thought that Roswaal was reliable in this situation.
Beatrice: [Roswaal, looking at it in a daze won’t lead to the answer, in fact.]
Roswaal: [Agreed. Well then, if it comes to this… Beatrice, how much mana do you have left?]
Beatrice: [After having met with Subaru, perfectly full, I suppose.]
Roswaal: [Very well. Theeen~――]
Suddenly smiling, Roswaal’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, and soon after, four different colored lights, Mana, floated in the air around him.
Roswaal snapped his fingers, and the four colored lights raced through the darkness of the night at arrow-like speeds, piercing into the distant group of undead, each light displaying their own powers.
One of the undead burst into flames, and another was encased in ice. One had its limbs severed by a blade of wind, and one was pierced through the groin by a block of rock that rose up from the ground.
All of them were fatal wounds, a destructive force that shattered them into infinitesimal pieces with a cracking sound a second later. Garfiel, and even Mizelda, raised their eyebrows slightly in surprise at the result.
Roswaal: [As it was reported, it’s the fire attribute that works the most effeeectively~. Wind did poorly, and earth is treated no differently than a physical strike. Freezing seems to be inefficient with its mana consumption.]
However, to Roswaal, the executor of the attack, it was not the fact that the undead had been defeated, but rather how the strength of the attacks had affected the defeated undead.
And then, Beatrice had also begun the same examination, but in a different way than Roswaal.
Beatrice held her hand up to the night sky, and her chanted magic meddled with the rain of arrows, which was released by the People of Shudraq, as the arrows tore through the sky.
Innumerable arrows poured down upon the undead, their weight multiplied several times by the effects of Beatrice’s Yin Magic―― magic that altered the weight of its target.
The increase in their power could be gauged from the spectacular sound that came from each undead as they were pierced into the ground.
Beatrice: [As Garfiel said, there is no explanation for why some zombies crumble, and others don’t, even though the arrows are of different weights and have different power, in fact.]
Garfiel: [If ya make all the arrows heavier, won’t it be hard to tell the difference?]
Beatrice: [Don’t think so lowly of Betty, I suppose. Instead of making all the arrows the same weight, each arrow was tested differently, in fact.]
Beatrice appeared angry, puffing out her cheeks like a little girl, but her reply in an effort to not be treated like a fool was even more foolish.
Garfiel, as a person who could use magic, albeit specializing in healing magic, understood the precision of the magical manipulation that Beatrice was doing.
One could see that what she had just done with magic was of equal difficulty to threading many needles at once without using one’s hands.
Moreover, Beatrice and Roswaal were――,
Roswaal: [The cause of their crumbling is not the loss of their liiimbs~. Some of them are still alive even after having their vitals gouged out. Although they are humanoid in appearance, it is better not to think of them as living creeeatures~.]
Beatrice: [It’s not easy for anyone other than you to treat them like they’re not living creatures when they’re laughing, angry, and even talking, I suppose. ――Maybe it’s contingent on the accumulation of a certain amount of damage, in fact.]
Roswaal: [That’s quite an insulting assessment. I’ve spent a lot of time with all of you, and I think I’ve regained a lot of my humaaanity~. Some of them can be taken down with just one leg blown off. If the condition is just accumulating damage, it doesn’t add uuup~.]
Beatrice: [It’s a ridiculous argument to settle it as a simple difference in individual endurance, I suppose.]
Roswaal: [What other reason could there be? The flow of mana is uniform.]
Beatrice: [Indeed, it is uniform… Wait, in fact. It’s way too uniform, I suppose.]
While exchanging banter with each other, Roswaal and Beatrice’s investigation of the enemy progressed.
Surprisingly, as they discussed, the two of them checked the disposition of the undead who attacked them, using their respective areas of magical expertise.
Fire, wind, and purple arrows raged, and the undead were unable to get close to the two as they fought back-to-back.
Of course, Garfiel and Mizelda also attacked the undead to keep them away, but even without them, Roswaal and Beatrice would not be deterred.
Although he would not say it since Beatrice would absolutely hate it――,
Mizelda: [Those two couldn’t be more in sync.]
Garfiel: [We absolutely can’t let them hear that.]
As with Garfiel’s thoughts, Mizelda gave the exact same assessment.
While showing off coordination that could only be described like that, Beatrice, unaware of what they were thinking, lowered her eyebrows and called out “Roswaal!”
Beatrice: [Going to touch them just once, in fact.]
Roswaal: [――How reckless.]
After saying this, Beatrice lightly kicked the ground with her foot and jumped forward.
With a flutter of the hem of her dress, Beatrice’s small body soared like a feather. This was also an unnatural jump, her own weight eliminated by using Yin Magic.
As it was, Beatrice was headed for a single undead who had its back to her―― sensing Beatrice’s approach, it turned around to face her.
A moment later, the undead’s right hand that held a sword was vaporized as it was about to strike Beatrice with it.
Roswaal was pointing at the undead. A white light that had emitted from his fingertip had burned the opponent’s arm. The undead was stiffened in astonishment, and Beatrice placed her hand on its forehead.
Then Beatrice’s distinctive patterned eyes widened,
Beatrice: [As expected, I suppose.]
Beatrice grumbled as her body was pulled away by an arm around her slender waist.
Holding Beatrice’s body close, Roswaal exchanged places with her and delivered a sharp fist with the arm opposite the one holding her, shattering the undead’s head before it could regain its composure.
Roswaal: [Good grief, I’m the one who is going to get scolded by Subaru-kun.]
Beatrice: [And it’s Betty who will get all the praise from Subaru, in fact. ――It’s Restoration Magic, I suppose.]
Roswaal: [――So that’s the reason.]
Roswaal, who had complained about Beatrice’s recklessness, closed his yellow eye at what he was told instead of an apology.
The current interaction with the undead gave Beatrice some kind of certainty. It seemed that Roswaal understood this in a few words, but unfortunately, Garfiel had no clue what it meant.
Garfiel: [Oi, I don’t understand at all! Explain it in a way that even Emilia-sama could understand!]
Beatrice: [Essentially, Emilia and Garfiel are about the same in terms of their comprehension, in fact. ――Now we know the structure of the zombies‘ bodies and the mechanism behind it, I suppose.]
Garfiel: [Like I asked, the fuck does that mean?]
With gnashed teeth, Garfiel posed a question.
Garfiel was already aware of the existence of Restoration Magic. Magic that could restore damaged objects, of which he had heard could even restore burned books from ashes when employed by its best practitioners.
However, it was said that there were few users, and that there were also noticeable shortcomings, such as the need for exquisite magical precision and the tendency for restored items to deteriorate in quality.
And above all, life could never be restored. ――This was not restoration nor repair, but the forbidden realm of something like the Sacrament of the Immortal King that had been brought up a few times already.
Roswaal: [Teacher chose mana for her vessels, and I chose blood for mine. ――But, this enemy chose earth for their vessels, are they not bothered if the contents overflow?]
Roswaal, covering his mouth, spoke of the revelation that Beatrice had given him.
Even then, Garfiel’s understanding fell short of theirs, but he could intuit that it was a path that would lead to answers that were terribly disturbing and unpleasant even for Garfiel.
Disregarding Garfiel, Roswaal looked at Beatrice with a grim expression on his face.
Roswaal: [Beatrice, this isn’t the Sacrament of the Immortal King, right?]
Beatrice: […The basis is the same, but the approach is different, in fact. For the Sacrament of the Immortal King, the vessel comes first, and the soul second, I suppose. However, as for these zombies…]
Roswaal: [The soul comes first, and the vessel after. ――The body changes form to suit the soul.]
At Roswaal’s comment, Beatrice nodded deeply.
As usual, Garfiel could not understand the crucial part of the exchange between the two. Garfiel, holding back his bitterness, suddenly could not believe his eyes.
Roswaal was there with an expression that reflected even more anguish on his face than Garfiel did.
He had never imagined he could have this contorted expression on his face. ――Nay, Garfiel had hoped to punch him in the stomach someday, wanting to bring about an anguished face, but for a reason unrelated to Garfiel’s desire, Roswaal was in agony.
With that agony reflected in his eyes, Roswaal opened his mouth.
Roswaal: [——I think I might know who this “enemy” is.]
Garfiel: [——Eh, for real?! Then…]
Roswaal: [But, wait. That can’t be. After all, by my hand, she was…]
Gone was the composure he had just prior, and Roswaal’s voice was filled with hesitation and doubt.
At his demeanor of not stating things clearly, Garfiel blinked and then immediately bared his teeth. If it had been Garfiel himself, it was possible that some absurd idea would have popped up.
However, it was Roswaal, not Garfiel, who had come up with the thought.
Garfiel: [Bastard, this ain’t the time to be utterin’ such weakness.]
Beatrice: [Roswaal, clarify one thing, in fact.]
Garfiel leaned forward as if wanting to grab Roswaal by the collar. However, before his hand could stretch out in aggression, Beatrice’s voice struck the silent Roswaal.
Beatrice fixed her eyes on Roswaal, and after waiting for him to meet her gaze,
Beatrice: [The cause of your hesitation, is it related to Mother, I suppose?]
Roswaal: […Am I that easy to read?]
Beatrice: [Only matters related to Mother can upset you so much, in fact. Also, more recently, about Ram, I suppose.]
Roswaal: [I’m confident I’d be overcome by emotions if something happened to you as well.]
With that, Roswaal, who had responded with a wry smile, closed his eyes firmly and tightened his cheeks. Then, having pushed aside the hesitation and weakness from before, he opened his eyes and nodded.
Roswaal: [Beatrice’s observation is correct. The mechanism by which the zombies are revived without the original corpse is an application of Restoration Magic. The prerequisite for this is the invocation of the soul, which is an application of the Sacrament of the Immortal King.]
Beatrice: [Both Restoration Magic and the Sacrament of the Immortal King aren’t the kind of techniques that can be used immediately upon understanding the theory, in fact. To begin with, given the feat of combining such fundamentally different types of magic, it can’t be said that there are even a handful of geniuses who can do it, I suppose. Those who could do it would be…]
Roswaal: [——Of Teacher’s lineage. However, it cannot be Teacher. Therefore…]
The “Teacher” that Roswaal spoke of and the “Mother” that Beatrice spoke of were the same person, and by no means could it be said that that person was completely unrelated to Garfiel.
Although it could be confusing because there were multiple people with the same name, upon hearing the name of the Witch involved, Garfiel immediately understood.
A single word from Beatrice had cut through Roswaal’s agony, and his attitude of trying to admit what he did not want to admit might have also played a role in Garfiel’s understanding.
Mizelda: [——What a boorish gaze.]
Suddenly, Mizelda murmured in a low voice.
Because it was about the intricacies of magic, Mizelda, who probably could not keep up with the conversation between Roswaal and Beatrice any more than Garfiel, had given up on understanding the cause of Roswaal’s agony and was focusing solely on attacking the undead.
The woman had stopped in her tracks, and she was looking upwards with her fierce eyes narrowed in aggression.
Garfiel also looked towards the target of the hunter’s piercing gaze and choked up. Not only Garfiel, but Beatrice and Roswaal as well.
However, the reason behind the reactions from those three were slightly different.
For Garfiel, it was because he saw a familiar figure that should not have been there.
For Beatrice and Roswaal, it appeared that a more negative feeling was the reason.
——In the night sky, with long, fluttering pink hair, was a girl clad in black.
Her face was the same as the being Garfiel had admired ever since he could remember; however, with cold eyes that had never been directed at Garfiel, she was looking down at him.
Girl: [This was not desired, but implementation was successful… Seemingly, this world has recognized my existence as its own life.]
The familiar face murmured in a familiar voice, gently tracing the crack that ran through her face with her hand, glaring at Garfiel and the others through her golden irises.
In response, Roswaal swallowed his saliva with an audible gulp and opened his mouth.
Roswaal: [So, you were alive… Sphinx.]
Sphinx: [No, I am dead. ——Observation: Required.]
With an indifferent voice as if teasing, the girl with an appearance that looked exactly like Ryuzu, Garfiel’s grandmother——The Witch, Sphinx, with the face of an undead, declared so.