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As eerie moans continued to echo from the now-defunct sealing fountain, Coppelia—whose personality was apparently replaced by a copy of Professor Victor—sat on a conveniently sized piece of rubble, spreading her legs wide and casually explaining the situation.

“It all began about ninety-eight years ago… no, maybe it was eighty-nine years ago and a few months… Eh, whatever, it does not matter.”

The conversation started off in a sloppy manner, with an air of needless elaboration and tangents typical of the elderly, making it clear this was going to be a long, drawn-out explanation. Moreover, seeing someone, even in a girl’s body, sit so immodestly was a bit disconcerting, but considering that the mind inside was that of a man, I decided to overlook it.

…I feel like I’ve been forgetting something important lately¹ , but it must be just a passing thought. Anyway…

“Um, is this really okay? It feels like the seal is dangerously close to collapsing.”

“—It is not okay at all! Rather, this is a huge problem!” Professor Victor glanced at the broken seal and the large figure slumped in defeat before it, speaking bluntly. “…But, to be honest, there is nothing we can do about it right now. Fixing the broken statues and fountain might help stabilize things a bit, but once broken, we cannot fully stop him.”

“? I heard that if this facility or the statues were damaged, some kind of safety mechanism would activate and prevent the seal from being completely undone.”
“Who the hell told you that nonsense!? That’s ridiculous!”

“ “You did.” ” Both Eren and I glared at her and pointed directly at the culprit.

“Hold on a second!” The flustered Professor Victor hurriedly pressed a hand to her forehead. “I’m combing through the data… Ah, here it is. Wait a minute! Clara! You were the one who told Coppelia that!”

“It wasn’t me… I keep telling you, I’m not her. Either way, in the end, the idea that the seal will stay intact even if things break is a lie, right?”

From the looks of it, the seal was clearly on the verge of a meltdown.

“Of course. This seal was originally designed to convert his power into magical energy, and over roughly 150 years, it should have been able to neutralize it without affecting the surroundings. The chamber itself functions as a filtration system, and the actual seal is applied separately, so even if this place gets destroyed, it will not affect the seal directly. However, without the filtration applied by this seal, raw cursed energy and magic will overflow like what you’re seeing now in front of you.”
“In other words, the main seal itself isn’t affected, correct? Then what’s the real problem?”

Although I was initially worried about the facility’s destruction, from what she was saying, the source of this calamity, the ‘No-Life King,’ seems to have been fully sealed from the beginning. It doesn’t sound like there’s much to worry about.

“Well, the seal itself is intact, but if things stay like this, the overflow will continue for at least fifty more years. This will cause monsters to grow more violent, the hearts of the people to become corrupted, and the natural environment to fall into chaos. —Ah, I see now what you did, Clara. That is why you made up that nonsense to protect this place, right?”
“I don’t know. Well, at the very least, that pretext has kept the Arlea region safe until now, so maybe it wasn’t entirely wrong…”

If anything, it seems like my mother was just trying to make sure her reputation wouldn’t take a hit by making sure no problems arose after she claimed to have sealed the ‘Evil God.’

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought this. Coppelia (Victor) scratched the side of her head with a sour expression.

“Always so clever, huh? Back then, you even had the nerve to sweet-talk me, saying you wanted to use my research to advance healing magic and build a prosperous future together. In the end, you just used me. Honestly, there is not much of a difference between what you did and what Igor did, though you two had opposite approaches.”

True. Both of them stole this person’s research and claimed it as their own. The only difference is that while Igor—Igoronak—acted with complete disregard for human life and dignity, my mother, whether out of hypocrisy or for the sake of her reputation, was at least skilled enough to navigate the public properly. That’s the only distinction.

“(As her daughter,) Let me offer my deepest apologies.”

I said, bowing my head since I couldn’t entirely distance myself from the issue.

“Hmph! Well, I am a magnanimous person. I will never forgive Igoronak for taking my life, but as for your apology… well, you could consider it accepted.”

Her pompous tone, acting as though I owed her a favor, was grating, but reasoning with this type of senile old man would get me nowhere. I simply offered, “Thank you very much.”

As I bowed deeply again, I felt her eyes lingering on my chest… but, well, there was nothing I could do about that.

Coppelia (Victor) looked satisfied, grinning from ear to ear, but Eren was clearly struggling to hold in her frustration at the unreasonable situation.

“…I guess Igoronak won’t be forgiven as easily, even if he said the crime is basically the same.”
“Well, that’s the difference between man and woman. Even more so if the man is more handsome and capable than he is, and the woman is beautiful and sincerely apologizing.”

Eren, apparently catching my muttered comment, smugly offered her explanation.

“Wait a minute, you little girl! You make it sound like I am some unpopular, lecherous old man! I only accepted the apology because I’m a rational, humane person, that is capable of forgiving!”

Coppelia (Victor) leaped to her feet, flailing her arms in a fit of rage.

“Oh yes, yes. Let’s say that’s true. But you know, it’s not all about looks for men.”
“Indeed. What really matters is what’s inside, so you shouldn’t worry about it too much.”

Though we both offered comforting words, they only seemed to make her angrier.

“Liar! I saw it in Coppelia’s records—you two mocked my portrait mercilessly!”
“ “…N-No We Didn’t.” ”
“It is always like this. Women are always making fun of me! Do you think you could ever understand the struggles of a man who, no matter how much he tries or what he accomplishes, is completely ignored by women simply due to my age and looks!?”

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I woke up to a disaster.

“Are you alright, Lady Jill?!” Eren, her big eyes filled with worry, peered down at me.

I responded, “I’m fine,” and sat up, sighing as I looked around at the devastation buried in the rubble. “How long was I unconscious?”

“Uh, um, I think maybe one or two minutes?”

It seemed that I hadn’t been out for long.

Despite that, I felt like I had a long, vivid dream, with voices that seemed oddly familiar—particularly the fate of the boy who had been crucified and set on fire at the end. I couldn’t help but be curious about what happened next, but assessing the current situation was my priority.

At first glance, a significant portion of the ceiling had collapsed, and it seemed like we had barely avoided being buried alive. Fortunately, the passageway proved to be sturdier than it seemed, allowing us to narrowly avoid a total collapse and retain its original structure.

Thanks to our escape, I only had a few minor cuts and bruises, but no major injuries like broken bones.

“Are you and Vier hurt anywhere?”
“We’re fine. Vier protected me again.”
“Woof!”

Seeing that both of them were unharmed was a relief. But the problem was… As I scanned the ruined chamber, now in a pitiable state, my eyes landed on the center of the room, half-buried under the rubble.

There, in the middle of the once fountain-filled pool, crouched the cause of this whole disaster—Bartholomew, the Death Knight, clad in a massive, black, iron-like suit of heavy armor.

He was still there, but…

“Why isn’t he moving?”
“Uh, I-I don’t know? He was already like that when I noticed.”

Vier and I both tilted our heads, puzzled by Bartholomew’s statue-like stillness.

On an unrelated note, the statues of the Four Seasonal Gods that used to adorn the edges of the fountain had been shattered to pieces. The statue of the Saintess in the center was barely intact, though it seemed Bartholomew must have knocked into it when he fell.

Beside the blade of his halberd, the Saintess’ severed head lay cleanly sliced off.

Bartholomew crouched there, facing the now headless statue.

Upon closer inspection, his skull’s jaw was wide open, and the eerie glow that usually burned in his eyes had completely vanished. It was as if he had just realized some catastrophic failure and—

“～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～”

—frozen in a pose of shock, like a breaker had tripped in his mind. But surely, there’s no way someone like him could have such a sense of regret.

“Could it be that he failed to defeat the Nue? Maybe he’s sulking from losing confidence?” I voiced the possibility that came to mind.

“No, Vier and I both saw the Nue get defeated and turn into particles of light.”
“Woof! (I saw it!)”
“…Then what could it be?”

“Who knows? Maybe he just hit his head the wrong way.” Eren answered nonchalantly. Considering we’d just narrowly avoided getting buried alive for the second time today, it was understandable.

“Well, we can figure this out later. There’s still someone else—”

As I scanned the rubble, I spotted a familiar-looking pair of legs in a mini-skirt not far away. No one had helped, so I thought she was completely buried alive(?), but it seemed her upper body had only been partially buried.

I gave a light tug, and out from the debris emerged Coppelia, completely passed out.

For someone to go through all of that and come out without a scratch, she was certainly built tough.

“Hello? Are you alive? Or rather, not broken?”

Since my Healing couldn’t possibly work on her, I gave Coppelia a shake.

“…Error… error, a critical failure has occurred in the processing unit… This error appears when… cannot be connected, or when… is unstable. Currently rebooting… Reboot failed… Please initiate a physical reboot.”

She was muttering something, but there were no signs of her waking up. Also, how exactly am I supposed to perform a “physical reboot”? I didn’t see any kind of switch on her.

“She’s saying something, but what does it mean?”
“It sounds like she’s broken and can’t wake up on her own, so she’s asking for external help to restart.”

Eren peeked over and asked, so I gave a brief explanation.

“Hmph!” Suddenly, Eren’s hand chopped down on Coppelia’s head with a solid thud, making a loud BANG and stopping Coppelia’s muttering.

“Ah…” I was stunned by this reckless action, unable to stop her in time. Eren, however, puffed out her chest with confidence.

“When the magic tools in the mansion are acting up, the trick is to hit the top left at about a sixty-degree angle to fix them.”

Is that really something to be proud of? Honestly, if something’s broken, wouldn’t it be better to send it for proper repairs? Or did she just finish her off completely?

But—

Just as I feared the worst, the shock of being hit seemed to have stopped Coppelia’s rambling. After about thirty seconds of silence, she suddenly started blinking repeatedly, then looked around with a strangely refreshed and alert expression, as if she had just woken up.

“Is this… the sealed chamber built in my laboratory? Ohhhh! Has my seal been shattered!?”

Coppelia, taking a pose of delight, exclaimed: The clearly abnormal behavior and speech prompted Eren and I to act.

“Eren.”
“On it.”

Eren, understanding my intent, immediately launched a chop aimed at a sixty-degree angle to the left.

“Whoa!?”

Coppelia barely avoided the attack.

“Tch, missed it.”
“What are you doing, you little brat!?”

Coppelia, now visibly enraged, confronted Eren with a fierce look.

“Obviously, since you’re malfunctioning, we need to hit you again to fix you.”
“What nerve! I am not broken at all!”

As Coppelia, still shouting, was cornered, I also tried to explain.

“No, your tone and personality are completely different from before. Something is off.”

Whether or not her previous self was the normal one is debatable, but it’s not typical for a girl to be possessed by an old dude like this.

“There’s a reason for that… Oh, is that you, Adelheid… no, Clara, is it not? What’s going on? It was you who confined my virtual persona, and yet you have released me again? What is your purpose?”
“Clara again… Let me clarify, I am not Clara. I am currently called Julia… or Jill.”
“Hmm? My… no, this automaton Coppelia’s observation device indicates a 98.76% match, making it impossible for you to not be the same person, but very well. You are ‘Jill’ now. I accept that as a temporary name. So ‘Jill’, why have you released me?”

Coppelia, or rather Victor Francis, asked with a tone of skepticism that didn’t seem convinced.

“Well, I don’t fully understand the situation myself, but aren’t you supposed to be Coppelia?”

It felt as though the person inside was someone else entirely, so I decided to clarify this first.

“I am ‘Coppelia,’ but not the usual basic persona. The higher-ranking persona, which was supposed to be my ‘Victor Francis’ reserve personality, has surfaced.”
“Victor Francis!?”

We were both taken aback by the unexpected name, while the self-proclaimed Victor Francis observed us with satisfaction.

“…But, isn’t he the one who conducted forbidden research on immortality, committed heinous acts, and earned the Saintess’ wrath, resulting in his confinement?”
“That is not true!!”

Victor Francis, or rather Coppelia, turned bright red with indignation at my words.

“Indeed, I did research immortality, but I did not perform actions that would inconvenience others! All the blame for such infamy should be placed upon that person!”
“That person? Who is it?”
“Who else?! It was that scoundrel who stole the fruits of my research, and even worse, repeatedly did cruel human experiments in secret. He noticed that I was about to discard my research and he killed my original body to cover up his crimes. In the end, he perfected immortality for himself and became the dreadful ‘No-Life King,’ that person—”

Victor Francis’ gaze, through Coppelia’s body, turned toward the crucifix held by the half-destroyed statue of the Saint.

“Is Igor, that evil magician and my former patron—Igoronak!!”

In response to this exclamation, a voice filled with anguish and resentment echoed from the bottom of the fountain.

Author’s note:

The relationships between the characters are a little hard to understand, so I’ll add some details.

・Prof. Victor Francis: An alchemist researching immortality. He’s basically a dumb scholar, brilliant but naive. He created Coppelia as his research assistant and equips her with a copy of his personality. He is later killed by Igor.

・Igor (Igoronak): Patron of Professor Victor. He is actually a magician with an extraordinary interest in immortality and steals all of the doctor’s research results and uses them to conduct repeated human experiments, eventually becoming the King of the Undead and being sealed away by the Saint.

・Coppelia: An android. After the death of her real body, Professor Victor, she is ashamed of her own ignorance and remains at the research lab to monitor Igor’s seal and to conduct proper research. She comes into contact with Clara and cooperates with her in developing healing techniques, but then Clara seals the Professor’s personality. After that, she goes a little crazy due to the negative effects of the seal.

In conclusion, Igor and Clara are at fault.

Translator’s Note:

It is hard to translate it to English properly, but the way Victor speaks is old-fashioned. She (he?) uses Washi, which is a form of Watashi typically used by old characters, and ends her (his?) sentences in Noja.

Which is why Jill and Eren could tell right away that Coppelia’s personality has swapped with Victor’s. Coppelia speaks a bit like an airhead and acts cutesy, while Victor speaks like a grandpa.²

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Anyway, no matter how you look at it, this seal is entirely legitimate, and trying to break it by sacrificing human lives is nothing but a heinous act.

It would be better to consult either the public authorities of this country or the higher-ups of the academy, such as Principal Mei.

We must ensure that no one carelessly attempts to break the seal any further.

And it might be best to restrain Coppelia and deal with her appropriately. This is outside my area of expertise, so I can’t say for sure, but it would be nice if we could make her brainwashed “Master-worshiping” thought process a bit more flexible…

“—For now, it’s not something that can be dealt with today or tomorrow, so we’ll have to leave it as it is. More importantly, we need to inform everyone that we’re safe, and I’m also curious about how the attack was repelled.”

“Agreed.”

Eren and I exchanged serious looks, while Coppelia gave us a puzzled look.

“Attack? What attack?”
“Before coming here, our lodging was attacked by a massive horde of undead… Wait, don’t tell me, that was your doing too?!”
“???”

When I pressed her, Coppelia looked utterly confused. At the very least, it didn’t seem like she was involved intentionally, but there was way too much evidence to say she was completely uninvolved.

“Just to be sure, you haven’t been out in town recently, have you?”
“Hmm… I go out about once every six months to stock up on alchemy materials, taking two or three skeleton soldiers as bodyguards. But I haven’t gone out in the last three months.”
“Then it’s probably not you. Also, bringing skeleton soldiers and wearing a miniskirt maid outfit is more than just suspicious, so you should stop that. If you walk around town like that, the guards will point their weapons at you.”
“Huh? Aren’t guards supposed to approach with weapons drawn?”

At that moment, Eren timidly raised her hand and made a suggestion.

“Um, I don’t really want to stay here any longer, so can we at least leave?”

Upon closer inspection, this place… no, all over the place, there were warning messages carved into the walls, disguised as intricate patterns.

‘Idiot, idiot.’
‘Look at the idiot!’
‘Arrest this guy, policeman!’
‘You’re such a sad adult.’
‘A flat chest is a status symbol!!’
‘You’re trash, and that’s me being nice.’

As we moved further from the entrance, the insults became more and more childish, regressing to the level of kids’ taunts. Also, why is there an odd one out?

“Sigh… In that case, I’ll brew some fresh tea. How about a fragrant tea that’s popular with women, nicknamed ‘Lady Killer’?”
“That’s another name for wolfsbane!!”

By the way, its dried roots can be used as a poison, and its extract is used for applying poison on arrow tips.

And so, while discussing such things, we eventually left after merely observing the Saintess’ seal. Whether this experience held any meaning or not was unclear, but at the very least, we had uncovered truths that impacted the core of the teachings of the Saintess’ Church. We decided to leave the scene, with this knowledge lingering in our minds.

…Upon reflection, it feels like we’ve learned things we were better off not knowing. If we carelessly blab about this, we might be labeled heretics by the Church and face a witch trial (though, well, I am a witch), so I should probably tell Eren to keep quiet about it too.

Just as I made that solemn vow, some dust suddenly fell onto my shoulder from above.

“Huh?” I instinctively brushed it off and looked up at the ceiling.

(Master, something’s coming from above. Be careful!)

Vier’s urgent mental warning echoed in my head, and immediately after, a crack appeared in the ceiling.

This… it feels like I’ve seen this recently…

“It’s kind of a familiar sight, isn’t it…” Eren, also sensing the déjà vu, muttered blankly.

“…don’t tell me, he—”

Before my words could even finish, Vier grabbed both Eren and me in her mouth and leaped toward the exit. Almost at the same moment, something enormous crashed down, breaking through the magnificent ceiling of the sealed chamber.

“GUAHAHAHAHAHA!! Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak! Pathetic! This is the end. Meet your fate!!”

Through the dust and debris, I thought I heard a familiar booming voice, but with Vier’s rapid acceleration and the shock from the falling object, my consciousness faded to black in the next instant.

♦♢♦

Screams shook the darkness.

In a bleak room, likely a dimly lit underground chamber enclosed by stone walls, two men wearing black triangular masks with only holes for their eyes, covering their heads completely—both obese, bare-chested, and wearing black tights on their lower halves—were relentlessly torturing a young boy with whips and spiked iron rods.

Watching them with satisfaction was a middle-aged man dressed in clothes that suggested a noble status—his body and movements indicated as much—but his identity was obscured by a bondage-style mask that hid his eyes.

The boy, who was continually tormented by these two hulking torturers, appeared to be in his early to mid-teens.

In the dark room, he was bound with shackles in a position resembling a raised-arm salute. His hair, soaked and half-burned, had discolored, and since his face was covered by a blindfold, his features were unclear. His still-developing body, stripped to the waist, was marked with stab wounds from blades and needles, and horrific burns, likely from chemicals or fire, covered him without exception. His condition was nothing short of pitiful.

Fire torture, waterboarding, the torture chair, limb stretching, branding irons, nail removal, salted herring³ …

As the boy screamed with each successive form of torture, the middle-aged man, who had been chuckling darkly, said, “Still not giving up? Why don’t you reflect on your actions and apologize already?”

Pressing the tip of his drawn sword under the boy’s chin, he licked his lips as he interrogated him.

“…Who would—who would give up on Jill?! Don’t think for a second I’ll break from something like this!” Even then, the boy defiantly shouted, refusing to let his spirit be broken.

Unfazed, the middle-aged man coolly instructed the torturers to prepare more gruesome devices. Without a word, the two torturers continued their work as directed.

“Guahhhhhhhhhh!! Jill—!!”

The boy’s screams echoed endlessly through the cramped underground chamber.

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“Per me si va ne la citta` dolente,
　　　per me si va ne l’etterno dolore,
　　　per me si va tra la perduta gente.

Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:
　　　fecemi la divina podestate,
　　　la somma sapienza e ‘l primo amore.

Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create
　　　se non etterne, e io etterno duro.
　　　Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate”.

—Dante Alighieri. The Divine Comedy: Inferno III. Italy, 1320.—

“Through me the way is to the city dolent;
　　　Through me the way is to eternal dole;
　　　Through me the way among the people lost.

Justice incited my sublime Creator;
　　　Created me divine Omnipotence,
　　　The highest Wisdom and the primal Love.

Before me there were no created things,
　　　Only eterne, and I eternal last.
　　　All hope abandon, ye who enter in!”

—Dante Alighieri. The Divine Comedy: Inferno III. Translated by Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth. 1997.—

We were led to a cave—no, it felt more like a temple’s passageway with a grand, alabaster gate wide open.

‘Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here
by: Scarlet Snow’

The warning carved boldly above the gate—it sounded ominous, but the cute, almost girly-ish handwriting added a touch of charm. In fact, it made it feel more authentic as if the handwritten note emphasized the authority of the Saintess Snow more than any formal, elegant script could.

“This is quite something…”

But most striking was the overwhelming magical energy radiating from the area, even at this distance. Even though the person herself wasn’t present, the residual power from the ongoing sealing spell was enough to make me dizzy from the sheer difference in level.

“This certainly far surpasses any human limitations.”

That said, there was no sense of hostility or disruptive energy in the air. The magical waves blended harmoniously with nature, peaceful and serene.

“Exactly! That’s why she’s no human, but a monster in disguise!”

Coppelia, seemingly pleased to have found agreement, turned around eagerly. However, I couldn’t fully share that sentiment.

Sure, compared to the average wizard, the difference in magical capacity was like a match versus an oil field fire, but I feel like she was trying to hold back and be considerate of her surroundings—even if her raw power was too immense for that to work perfectly.

“That girl basically only knows how to brute-force things with her ridiculous magic power; she’s not great with finesse,” I suddenly recalled something principal Mei had once said.

Speaking of, apparently, Principal Mei had actually met Rozen Heilige personally. Though she had spoken of her rather freely, it seemed to be more in the tone of close friends, not out of malice.

“Indeed. I was young back then, and our village was struck by a calamity that nearly wiped us out. Many died, were injured, or fell sick. That’s when a Healer wandered in and saved us, leaving without asking for anything in return. That was when I learned there are people outside the village worthy of our respect.”

I recalled these words from when Pryui had told me about the healer who saved the elven village. Later, I confirmed with the village elder of the elves, ‘Uranus,’ that this healer was indeed the legendary Saint.

I’ve never met her personally—in fact, many scholars and theologians across the continent doubt her existence. They claim she was either a fictional figure created by the Saintess Church or that multiple stories of healers were mixed up, spreading as folklore. However, hearing this now didn’t feel strange to me, likely because I’d already heard about her in such a manner before.

There’s also something oddly familiar about her. Even though she’s not here, she feels like a mentor I can always remember.

(At the very least, the people I know never spoke ill of the Saintess.)

Even though I’ve never met her, the people who know her can be trusted, so I don’t think she’s the kind of person with a hidden agenda… but at the same time, I have no reason to dismiss what Coppelia says as a lie, either.

Without jumping to conclusions, I decided it was best to move forward and see for myself what lies ahead.

♦♢♦

‘No Entry’
‘Don’t Go any Further’
‘Turn Back’
‘Turn Around and Leave Already’
‘Yes, You! I’m Talking to YOU!!’
‘Listen to me DAMMIT!!’

Ignoring the mountain of warning signs along the way, Coppelia confidently marches forward. The sculptures and pillars are dazzlingly extravagant, but the constant barrage of warnings makes it hard to appreciate them in peace.

“Lady Jill… I really feel like we’re heading somewhere we absolutely shouldn’t be going…” Eren mutters, glancing around nervously.

Indeed, this place feels like a barrier of sorts. Anyone with common sense would naturally hesitate. Even Vier seems apprehensive, her tail tucked beneath her as she stares at the massive reliefs carved into the walls.

They depict the thirteen divine generals—representing the Thirteen Months of the Year (Month of Guardian, Month of Fallen Angel, Month of White Monkey, Month of Giant God, Month of Quiet Angel, Month of Demon Lord, Month of Lion, Month of Spider, Month of Demon Beast, Month of God-Fish, Month of Death God, Month of Dead Souls, Month of Smithing)—as well as references to the Seven Sacred Beasts, representing the Seven Days of the Week (Moon Eye day, Wing Tiger day, Qilin day, Dream Eater day, Celestial Maiden day, Mirror day, Prayer day).

“We’re almost there, Lady Clara~! To the place closest to my wonderful master!” Coppelia, completely devoid of any sense of danger—or perhaps lacking the capacity for such feelings—cheerfully waves us onward.

“Well… I suppose we have no choice.”

Though I’m not thrilled about it, I know that unless we see this through, Coppelia won’t be satisfied. With heavy steps, we continue deeper into the passage.

♦♢♦

We found ourselves standing before a circular fountain, about six mertes in diameter, made of what seemed like pure white marble(?), filled with crystal-clear water.

However, rather than water spouting upward, it flowed gently from marble(?) statues arranged in all four directions, much like the fountains of Marlion or Manneken Pis. The statues, each about two mertes tall, represented common motifs: the Black Knight of winter, the Seraphim of spring, the Dragon King of summer, and the White Fox of autumn.

At the center of the fountain stood a statue of a maiden holding a cross in prayer. This must have been the Rozen Heilige, Saintess Snow, herself. She appeared smaller and more delicate than I had expected, with a mystically beautiful face and… curves, curves that… wait, what?

“Lady Jill, that statue of the Saintess is beautiful, but… doesn’t the chest area seem a little… off?” Eren, apparently noticing the same thing, commented.

“Yes, it’s strange. Compared to the rest of the body, the design feels… distorted. Like that part was deliberately altered.”

I agreed without thinking.

Given my own rather ample figure for my age, I’m keenly aware of such things. After spending time every day adjusting my outfit with the help of Eren and others in front of the mirror, I’ve come to understand proportions and positioning quite naturally. But that statue’s chest… it looked artificially enhanced, as though something had been added or lifted after the fact.

“Exactly! That’s proof! Her whole identity is a lie! Don’t be fooled by her! Those chests are proof!”

Coppelia cried triumphantly as if she had just uncovered a great secret. For a moment, I could have sworn that the statue of the Saintess looked… annoyed.

“Still, the water is beautiful, isn’t it? Do you think it comes from Lake Quartz?”

I asked, attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction. The water was so clear that it felt as though I could reach down into the one-merte-deep fountain and touch the bottom.

But then—”Ah!”—I gasped, my breath catching in my throat.

I must have turned pale, for Eren, noticing my sudden change in demeanor, curiously followed my gaze.

“Wh-what is that!?” Eren, too, paled as soon as she realized what she was seeing. “B-bones… human bones!!”

Yes, at the bottom of the fountain, what we thought were intricate white geometric patterns were actually piles and piles of human bones, stacked tightly and seamlessly together.

“Why are they here?!”

The answer was obvious, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

As expected, without any hint of guilt—perhaps because she wasn’t equipped with something like a conscience or the Three Laws of Robotics—Coppelia tilted her head in response to my accusatory shout and gleefully replied.

“Of course, they were sacrifices for the ritual to break my master’s seal. At first, I thought about destroying the statue, but then the safety mechanism would activate, making the seal completely unbreakable—oh, this was something Lady Clara verified!—so instead, I used magic to weaken it rather than destroy it physically. That’s all.”
“That’s all? How many people fell victim to your ritual?!”

She probably hadn’t even kept count. At that moment, I was almost prepared to destroy Coppelia here and now to ensure there would be no more victims of this horrific ritual.

In another time, place, or situation, perhaps we could have been friends. But standing idly while a catastrophe unfolded before me? I could never do that. Especially not when I had the power to stop it. To do nothing in the face of such evil would be beyond foolish—it would be monstrous.

I raised my magic staff, the anger inside me growing, burning like a twisting flame in my chest. Sensing my tension, Vier growled low in her throat, stepping up to confront Coppelia. Eren gripped her spear, ready for battle.

But in stark contrast to our rising tension, Coppelia remained completely unbothered, maintaining her usual carefree attitude.

“Victim…?” She blinked in apparent confusion. “They were not victims. I wouldn’t do a ritual with an unwilling sacrifice.” She tilted her head to the side as if the very idea were absurd.

“Huh?”

Eren and I let out strange, disbelieving sounds, our resolve momentarily shattered.

“The people whose bones are submerged here were all devout assistants, patrons, servants, and lovers of my master. They all gladly offered their lives to bring him back. They were martyrs.”

Coppelia daintily picked up the edge of her skirt and offered a respectful bow to the white bones beneath the water.

“Th-they did…?” I found myself faltering. Was it wrong to judge if these people had given their lives willingly? Beside me, Eren raised an eyebrow, frowning.

“Wait a second, you’re telling me your master was that charismatic, that popular with women?”

It was a rather rude question, but Eren wasn’t one to mince words.

“Of course! My master was incredibly popular with women. Even those who didn’t initially find him attractive would fall for him after spending some time with him. A little brain modification, and they’d be head over heels!”
““That’s not charisma!!””

Eren and I shouted in unison, our voices echoing yet again through the sacred grounds of the sealed sanctuary.

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Through a crystal-clear pane of glass—so pristine that it alone hinted at the wealth of its owner—Frontier Count Aulanthia gazed at the brilliantly glowing full moon, enjoying a quiet nightcap.

Despite his title as one of the most powerful nobles of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom, whose land and authority rivaled that of a mid-sized nation, the Count was known as a mild-mannered man with a preference for avoiding conflict. In fact, his father had once been the king of the independent kingdom of Aulanthia, but when it came to his generation, he swiftly relinquished that status, choosing instead to become just another noble of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom. For this, he was often mocked behind his back as a weak-willed opportunist, a mere shadow of a king.

He was frequently underestimated and ridiculed in whispers, but in truth, he didn’t care in the slightest about his standing in society or court. Such opinions bothered him no more than the buzzing of summer mosquitoes.

In fact, from his own perspective—and from the viewpoint of the empire’s most astute powerbrokers, who operated from the shadows and were often referred to as the “raccoons” or “unknown horrors”—his current position wasn’t a bad compromise.

Around thirty years ago, during the founding of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom, his father, in collusion with hardliners from the Eunice Theocracy, had attempted a coup to take over the newly formed empire. Aulanthia’s kingdom would provide the military might, while Eunice would assert legitimacy by promoting the then-teenage Shrine Maiden Princess Clara as a figurehead for the ‘Livitium Royal House.’ However, unforeseen events caused the plan to fail, and when it came time to assign blame, his father bore the full responsibility, while he himself managed to retain his status by swearing loyalty to the Livitium Imperial Kingdom.

Thus, his current position was the result of that compromise.

Though his official title as a Count ranked slightly below that of a duke, the Count could keep his former kingdom as his personal territory. While he was not permitted to involve himself in key governmental matters, it was an unspoken rule that he remained in the capital as a hostage.

It wasn’t a bad position. He wasn’t so insignificant as to be ignored nor considered important enough to be closely watched. It was an exceedingly comfortable place to be.

“The question is when to make my move…” he mused. Or perhaps it was fate that he would waste away, keeping his claws and fangs hidden until the end. Lately, the Count had begun to feel the weight of age more acutely and smiled wryly at himself.

Has he grown soft? There was a time when such thoughts would never have crossed his mind.

When did things change? After Clara passed away? No, at that time, he had worked tirelessly to fulfill her dream in her place.

“Perhaps it all started with Syltianna,” he muttered, downing the glass in his hand.

Incidentally, the drink he held was a herbal liqueur that high society, especially nobles, typically avoided. Strong in both alcohol content and its distinctive color and aroma, it was a favorite among artists and poets, though its addictive nature meant it was not widely recommended.

Why did he feel the need to drink it tonight? As he pondered, he realized it must have been the discussion he had earlier with Euphemia about the Eunice region, where Clara hailed from. That, and perhaps the full moon had enticed him.

“If only I could have gained the power that surpassed that Immortal King, or Saintess Snow, then no matter how much outsiders clamored, I would have had the justification to silence them…”

He pondered this thought, then shook his head. In his younger days, he had been captivated by power, but now, he knew that a power too great—especially something unknown and uncontrollable—was not to be trusted.

In hindsight, it may have been a stroke of luck that he hadn’t broken the seal. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but somewhere within, he must have sensed something suspicious and had distanced himself from it early on. Now that he thought about it, it was unusual how deeply fixated Clara was with that matter.

Pouring another glass, the Count placed a sugar cube on a spoon, letting the alcohol soak through before setting it aflame. Watching the soft blue flame flicker, he fell deeper into his memories.

Given Clara’s famed beauty, it had seemed natural that she would pursue the research of immortality, though now the Count wondered if her reasons had truly been so superficial. After all, his wife had a rather tumultuous life. Perhaps she had foreseen her premature end and taken steps in anticipation.

— Simon! Simon, look at her!

The vivid memory of Clara’s radiant smile surged forth. She had been holding their newborn daughter, Syltianna, her face glowing with unclouded joy.

— Look! This child is me. She’s my other half!

She cradled her beloved daughter like a true Madonna… But just as the memory reached that point, an unexpected shiver ran through him.

Was that smile truly the smile of a mother, purely celebrating the birth of her child?

“…This isn’t good. I must’ve drunk too much.”

He placed the glass down on the table.

There was no way that could be true. Syltianna was undoubtedly his and Clara’s child. Even if she had her flaws… No, it was precisely because she was so unlike Clara, so flawed, that he felt so certain of it.

“It’s the contradictions that bring me peace. But, what if…?”

What if Syltianna had been the spitting image of Clara? No—what if she had surpassed Clara in every conceivable way? Could he have ignored the possibility that Syltianna’s birth was part of a contrived plot?

“…I’ve been nothing but contradicting myself, haven’t I? Either way, it’s all in the past…”

He knew well how twisted his affections had become. There was a sense of relief when his precious jewel had slipped from his grasp, yet also a hollow emptiness that wrapped him in sorrow.

Perhaps the alcohol was taking its toll, for his mind wandered aimlessly to improbable thoughts. What if Syltianna had been a regular, beautiful girl, resembling her mother? What if he had treated her like any normal father would, free of any misgivings? By now, perhaps she would’ve introduced him to a man she fancied…

He probably would make Syltianna leave the table to run on some errand to give himself some time alone with the man she brought along — he imagined it would be someone like Prince Lucas, a member of the Graviol Imperial Family whom he’d already met. And then, with an amiable smile, he would say:

“Well, you see, I’ve had quite an unruly phase when I was growing up. I’ve actually killed a number of people before.”

Yeah, that would be about right for a stubborn father who didn’t want his daughter taken from him. Perhaps tonight, it would be a good idea to spend some time tending to the sword he had used and cherished since his youth.

With that thought, a sly smile spread across the face of Count Corrad Simon Aulanthia, the border lord of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom.

Unaware of how strange his thinking was, he remained a father who did not understand what a proper parent-child relationship should be.

♦♢♦♢

At the same time—

“Whoa—!”

Lucas, who was desperately controlling the wind spirits to protect the academy’s students, suddenly felt a terrifying chill down his spine. He almost tumbled from the bell tower but managed to cling on, barely steadying himself with both hands and feet.

“What… was that just now?”

Still feeling the unnerving sensation, as if a killing intent was reaching him from somewhere far away, Luke nervously scanned his surroundings.

“Mew?”

His winged cat, puzzled, looked up at its shaken owner.

“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t really know what it is, but it feels like I shouldn’t run away from this pressure… So, I’ll hang in there.”

Bracing himself against the eerie cold, Lucas struggled to stay put.

Author’s note:

This is a follow-up to the previous chapter. By the way, the alcohol the Count is drinking is supposed to be absinthe, but you can think of it as a similar drink.

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Eren, who had faith in the Saintess’ Church, puffed out her cheeks in displeasure, and I could only stare at Coppelia’s face, confused and trying to grasp her true intentions. But then, something crossed my mind, and I had to ask.

“In the legends, it has been said that the Evil God in this land was sealed by the Shrine Maiden Clara. Is that not true?”

From Coppelia’s explanation, it seemed the one who performed the sealing wasn’t my mother, Clara, but Saintess Snow herself. I couldn’t help but question this discrepancy with the information I had beforehand.

“Perhaps that story is a distortion of the truth about my master, who gained power beyond that of a human and became immortal. Or maybe the Saintess exaggerated the story to enhance her own reputation…” Coppelia said with a faint look of disdain. “In any case, the one who sealed my master was that false saint, Snow. Lady Clara discovered the seal in this land, learned the truth, and offered to cooperate with another man—Lord Simon, to create inversion rituals and weaken the seal in various locations under the guise of periodic rituals.”

So, the original seal was placed by the Saintess, but my mother and a collaborator named Simon entered the picture and made it seem like they were the ones who put the seal in place, while in reality, they were working to destroy it. I could almost hear the sound of my illusions about my mother shattering.

“But wait, you were badmouthing the Saintess so much earlier. You must have some solid evidence for that, right!?”

Before I could even respond, Eren, already outraged by Coppelia’s claims, lashed out. She was clearly furious, calling Coppelia ‘you’ now without the usual politeness.

Coppelia, however, remained composed—almost amused by Eren’s reaction, as if watching an ignorant child, and she calmly spread her arms and pointed to the ceiling.

“Of course I have proof. This laboratory is sealed with a Dungeon constructed right above it to steer humans away from it. There’s even a Nue, a creature capable of leveling an entire nation overnight, placed here to safeguard it. Someone capable of such outrageous actions could hardly be called a Saintess.”
“Ugh… but that’s not enough proof that the Saintess herself created this place…”
“Then, you’ll just have to see the seal binding my master for yourself. It might not be obvious to an amateur, but Lady Clara, you should be able to tell from the quality of the magic.”

Eren looked at me, her face full of doubt. “Lady Jill…”

“Understood… At this point, we might as well see it through to the end.” Although I’d prefer to go home and sort out all this information. After coming this far, I couldn’t turn back now. “Besides, we don’t even know how to get back.”

Naturally, the one who responded to my muttering was Coppelia, who currently manages this laboratory.

“Huh? Did you come here without knowing? This place is at the bottom of Lake Quartz.”
““WHAAAT!?!””
“It used to be on a plain far from any town, but that rotten Saintess sank the entire building into the ground and turned the area into a lake. Well, I don’t know if it’s for maintenance or monitoring, but she seems to leave a passage connected from a small island on the lake. Around the time of the full moon, when the tide is high, it’s relatively easy to enter and exit, so sometimes adventurers wander in.”

Her words made me instinctively glance around.

“So, beyond these walls is the lake?”
“Exactly. I thought for sure you arrived here by boat.”
“We were forcibly transferred from the St. Campbell Church…”

Coppelia tilted her head, unfamiliar with the name of the church.

“I don’t know where that is, but Lady Clara mentioned that she once found abandoned teleportation circles meant for transferring here in several locations. Maybe one of those malfunctioned and brought you here this time?”

Coppelia laughed, “to think you would accidentally step on one after everything you’ve said about how scary old and abandoned Teleporters are, Lady Clara sure can be klutzy.”

This is no laughing matter to me.

“So, that means we can’t leave here through teleportation?”
“Of course not. If it were that easy to leave, the seal would be meaningless.”
“So, we have no choice but to walk out from this lowest level?”
“Exactly. Plus, I think the high tide period has already passed, so the earliest you can leave is tomorrow morning. If you miss that, you’ll have to wait another month.”

She says this casually, but I can only imagine how worried the academy staff, Luke, and everyone must be, realizing we’ve disappeared… I couldn’t help but sigh.

“Are you alright, Lady Jill?”
“Yes, I’m fine, Eren. Regardless, we have time until tomorrow morning, so let’s make sure we fully understand the situation.”

This concerns me—rather, my birth mother, Clara, so I can’t afford to deal with this half-heartedly.

Be that as it may…

If I had known that we were surrounded by water, I would have talked to the undines instead of the gnomes! That way, I could have understood the situation more easily and asked them to guide us to the closest point to the water’s surface!

Thinking that, I reflect on my own lack of foresight.

Author’s Note:

Regarding Coppelia’s comment:

Saintess Snow: “Well, she isn’t exactly wrong, but I did my heal-and-walk journey mainly to waste time, so it’s not like I had any particular motive behind it. Professor Victor? Who’s that?”

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We were led into a messy room that looked like a typical bachelor’s private quarters.

“Wow, this really screams single guy’s room.”
“Looking at this, I feel like tidying up and giving the place a good scrub would be the least we could do.”

Standing at the entrance, both Eren and I sighed at the sight of the room, which was so cluttered there was hardly any place to step. Why do men’s rooms always seem to be such a mess? Socks lying next to half-eaten dishes—it’s incomprehensible.

That being said, the food seemed quite old, having discolored to the point of being unrecognizable, but at least there wasn’t a foul smell.

“By the way, didn’t you introduce yourself as an assistant and cleaning maid? Leaving a room this filthy seems a bit much, don’t you think?” Eren said, clearly unable to overlook this as a fellow maid.

Coppelia, who had been standing at the entrance gazing around the room with a strangely sentimental expression, turned to us and straightened up.

“This room is the sanctuary of my master, Professor Victor, so I’m not allowed to touch anything without his permission.”

Ah, I know the type—those people who say, “It’s not messy! I’ve placed everything exactly where I know it is!” You often hear that about people with blood types O or B, but even those who seem serious or meticulous on the outside can have chaotic personal spaces.

Nevertheless, a certain word caught my attention, and I immediately asked for confirmation.

“So, this ‘Victor’ is your master?”

“Exactly! Professor Victor Francis, the genius sorcerer and extraordinary alchemist,” Coppelia declared proudly, pointing to a portrait on the wall. The painting depicted a young man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, along with an elderly hunched man who seemed to be his attendant, both in a 25 or 30-sized portrait.

“Oh, he’s handsome.”

I found myself captivated by the man in the portrait, with his chestnut hair and well-defined, intellectual features. Confidence radiated from him, supported by his ideals and passion—a man who perfectly embodied the term beautiful gentleman.

“He certainly looks like a capable man. So, Lady Jill prefers this type, then? …I should report this,” Eren said, busily jotting something down beside me. Who was she planning to report this to?

Noticing our reactions, Coppelia smiled cheerfully, but the angle of her raised arm seemed to adjust slightly… three times. Also, I could swear her smile was a bit strained, and she seemed to be sweating profusely, but she’s a mechanical doll, so that couldn’t possibly be the case.

“…Is it just me, or does it look like you’re sweating quite a bit?”
“Hahaha, it’s just a minor coolant leak, nothing to worry about.”

No, that’s definitely something to worry about!!

“But more importantly, it seems there’s a misunderstanding. The man with chestnut hair is Mr. Igor, a former sponsor. My dashing master, Master Victor, is the one next to him. Isn’t he a fine man?”
“The one… next to him?”

The only other person in the portrait was a hunched-over old man in his sixties, with thinning hair, buck teeth, and a rather stubborn-looking expression.

After a few seconds of silence…

“Well, there aren’t many stray handsome men around.”
“…This was a waste of time.”
“…Woof.”

Having understood that we had fulfilled our purpose here, we all turned on our heels and headed towards the exit.

We had expected a handsome man to be waiting, but it turned out to be a waste of time.

“W-w-w-w-wait, why!? Why are you leaving so suddenly, Lady Clara!? The main event is just about to begin! There’s going to be a dramatic plot twist about how this research facility was established and the schemes of the enemies that hindered it!!”

Coppelia, flustered, hurried after us and grabbed my arm to try to stop me. While her strength wasn’t much, she was heavy enough to make walking difficult.

“No, it was clear as day once we saw the portrait… It’s probably the usual, isn’t it? Some scholar who was shunned by society went off the deep end, saying, ‘The world is wrong. I’ll show them how great I am!’ and got obsessed with researching immortality.”
“It’s more like it’s just the envy of a man who can’t get a girlfriend. Maybe the immortality thing was just an attempt to appeal to women?”

Coppelia blinked repeatedly at our blatantly biased assertions.

“…Have you remembered everything, Lady Clara?”

It seemed we had hit the nail on the head.

“Hearing that makes me even less inclined to stick around. I have no interest in illegal or unethical research.”

“That’s a misunderstanding,” Coppelia objected, shaking her head as if offended.

Using corpses as seedbeds for plants, uncontrollable murderous beasts, and artificial beings who would sacrifice humans without hesitation—what part of this is defensible?

“To begin with, the so-called Saintess who sealed this place along with my master here is nothing but a hypocrite… no, she’s nothing but the spearhead of the demonic nation, traitor to humanity, deceiver of the entire continent, and a true-born backstabber!” Her tone shifted from her usual soft-spoken manner to a forceful one as she insisted. “You’re all just being deceived by the pleasant-sounding title of ‘saintess.’ That thing isn’t even human, to begin with—it just pretends to be good while toying with humanity. That’s why my master was captured and is now suffering, sealed away.”

In the Eunice Theocracy, where the Saintess Church is based, and even in the Graviol Empire, where the Deva Kureha Faith is predominant—though I’m not sure how much of it is true—there are countless legends of Saintess Snow appearing across the world to save people. These stories are so widespread that grassroots faith in her persists. Never before have I heard anyone so openly denounce the saint.

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“What… is this thing…?”

In Cestlavie’s line of sight, a large ogre wearing a bizarre mask was swinging a massive scythe.

Each time it did, the barrier surrounding the church sparked, fending off the attack, but…

“This won’t last long…”

Cestlavie glanced at the burning smell in the air, and saw that several of the barrier stakes, which were arranged in precise intervals around the church, were almost entirely deteriorated and on the verge of breaking.

The stakes were placed according to a calculated alignment with the cardinal directions, so simply replacing them wasn’t an option. If these failed, the barrier would lose most of its effectiveness.

In that case, the best option would be to repel the monster in front of them before the barrier is completely breached—

“The ballista is ready, stand back!”

At that moment, a ballista, which had been brought along just in case, despite not being deemed necessary, was assembled by the adventurer guards and brought into position.

“Prepare to fire!”

A massive bolt, almost the size of a spear, was aimed at the large ogre just a stone’s throw away. Several people cranked the mechanism, pulling the string to its limit. The ballista wasn’t built for precision shooting, but at this range, missing would be impossible.

“—Fire!”

With a thundering boom, the bolt was released, striking the ogre dead center—right through its heart, sending its massive body flying.

“We got it!!”

Cheers erupted around them, but Cestlavie’s expression remained grim. While the others had been standing by, he had been using his talisman techniques to launch attacks through the barrier, but the responses from the creature had been strange.

And as if to confirm his unease—

“This thing… it’s still moving…!”
“No way, it’s still alive!?”

The giant ogre, which should have had a fatal wound, stood up as if nothing had happened. A wave of dread and fear, different from before, spread through the crowd.

Amidst this nightmarish scene, “This is… impossible! We can’t do anything against it!!” Someone shouted in despair, forgetting to reload the ballista.

♦♢♦

“The wind is trembling…”

Luke, standing alone atop the highest bell tower of the church, whispered softly as he listened to the sound of the wind passing through the darkness. He was trying to track Jill and the others by listening to the wind as closely as possible, but they were nowhere to be found within a ten-kilomertes radius.

“…Either they’re inside some kind of barrier, or they’ve moved far away.”

While Luke was worried about their safety, he didn’t entertain the pessimistic thought that they might already be dead. The mere thought of that girl filled his heart with a bittersweet, burning sensation that never seemed to fade.

“That’s why I trust that you’re safe, and I’ll do everything I can right now. Please wait for me, Jill.”

With this resolve, Luke drew the Dragonfang Dagger he held in his hand. Jill had once given it to him, and it was said to be crafted from the fang of a wind dragon, making it highly compatible with wind spirits.

As he silently called out to the wind spirits around him, Luke raised the Dragonfang Dagger high. He recalled the feeling from before when he had summoned the wind in sync with Ashimi’s melody.

“Here I go! Wind, become a wall to protect this land!”

In response to the boy’s heartfelt plea, the treetops surrounding the church began to rustle.

“—Nya.”

At that moment, Sechs, the winged cat perched on Luke’s shoulder, sniffed the air as if catching a scent and let out a short meow.

♦♢♦

Coppelia suggested that we change locations for the explanation, so we started walking again. The area we entered further in seemed to be a storage space for more or less completed specimens. As we glanced around, we saw a massive creature, about 2.5 mertes tall, crouched inside a transparent “alchemist’s jar” over 5 mertes in height.

“An ogre?”

I couldn’t help but phrase it as a question because the ogre was wearing a strange mask.

“Specimen 206 from the Immortality Experiment. It’s an ogre designed with the concept of having Hydra-like regenerative abilities… but it was a failure. Unless it receives a constant infusion of external magic, it quickly runs out of energy and dies from exhaustion.”

Coppelia turned to look at me, pausing like a student showing off a poorly done homework assignment.

“External infusion…? Ah, I see. So that strange mask serves as an antenna to gather magic from the air.”
“Exactly.”

That’s a fairly common weakness. You think you’re dealing with an immortal monster, but the mask or the doll on its shoulder turns out to be the actual core.

“…It’s not very practical, is it?”
“No, it’s not. I kept this one as a sample, but I disposed of the rest.”

Coppelia lowered her head in embarrassment.

Disposed isn’t the best term to use for living creatures, but I suppose there wasn’t much choice since they couldn’t just be left unattended.

“What’s with that tree growing out of the large bear over there?”

Eren asked curiously, pointing to a massive section occupied by what seemed to be the corpse of a bear over 5 mertes in length, with a tree about 20 mertes tall growing from it.

Ignoring the scale, it resembled a winter caterpillar fungus.

“This was another failed experiment to fuse animal and plant life. The idea was to use plants to compensate for the missing parts of the animal, but the balance was off, resulting in this. The seeds from the plant part can grant temporary immortality, but it’s far from ideal.”

Coppelia dismissed it easily, but could it be that this bear was the legendary man-eating beast, the Storm Bear I saw at the souvenir shop earlier, and that ogre was the prototype of the killer ogre that emerges from Lake Quartz?

If that’s the case, then this place is practically a secret base for evil.