Author: Sasaki Ichiro	Original Source: Syosetu
Translator: Mab	English Source: Re:Library
Editor(s): Silva

Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

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 herring¹
…

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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