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The pure white Void Mist filled nearly 180—no, closer to 270 degrees of my vision, based on my perception. Standing before it, I felt like an ant under the gaze of a towering giant. The oppressive sensation made me halt ten meters from the advancing edge.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was just a giant wall of clouds—or maybe a field of cotton.”

It looked deceptively ordinary—just another fog bank, easy enough to walk through. But whatever lay beyond was completely hidden. Maybe it was because my current eyesight was no better than a normal human’s, but still, it was unnerving.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I realized the Void Mist had already crept closer. Susa’s analysis mentioned its speed had slowed slightly due to the expanding coverage area—but even then, it moved fast enough to be a death sentence for anyone relying on human-level reflexes.

I drew the longsword from my side and thrust it into the mist. It wasn’t designed for sharpness—far from it. Its edge was almost blunt, crafted instead for unmatched hardness. A Dwarven blacksmith had forged it, proudly claiming it was indestructible.

The blade vibrated in my hands, like it had been dragged across a grinder. Alarmed, I pulled it back immediately. When I inspected it, the tip was missing—cleanly shaved off, like it had been sliced through by something far sharper.

“Wow. That’s terrifying.”

Seriously—if I’d tested it with my hand, I’d probably be dead already.

“—Well, I’m going in anyway.”

Facing the encroaching mist, I stepped forward without hesitation.

The instant I crossed through the white wall, countless specks of light wrapped around me—and then, the transformation began.

My body—and my clothes—began to unravel.

It didn’t feel like melting, exactly. It was more like pulling on the loose end of a sweater—my clothes and hair were unraveling thread by thread, dissolving into fine strands that vanished into the void.

In seconds, my clothes were gone. My exposed skin followed, unraveling the same way. Even my bones dissolved, piece by piece, until the last of me faded—and with it, my consciousness.

◆◇◆◇

“How long did I last, Susa?”

I let go of the control orb and turned to the massive, floating eyeball beside me—Susa, the «Gazer», and No. 3 of the Seven Beasts of Calamity.

“The connection to Sorcery Doll No.2 was lost 0.021 seconds after entry,” Susa responded in his stately tone.

His dignified tone didn’t match the confusion on my face as I tilted my head.

“But… it felt like ten seconds, at least.”

Then again, Susa was our chief analyst—and I was certain he’d already tried this using his own clones. So I couldn’t exactly doubt him.

“Time flows differently inside the Void Mist compared to the outside. That would explain the discrepancy in observations. Out of the 7,031 clones I’ve sent through it, the longest survival time was 6.796 seconds. The shortest? Zero. I tried every variable—conditions, entry timing, magical reinforcement—yet there wasn’t a single consistent pattern. It’s entirely random.”

“So basically, it doesn’t matter how much HP or how many buffs you’ve got—it’s all pointless?”

“Indeed, Princess. It’s impossible to penetrate that veil using any known material, attack, spell—or any method we currently possess.”

I folded my arms, the weight of reality settling over me again like cold water.

“So we need something entirely unknown—some material or technique beyond anything we’ve ever seen—just to stand a chance?”

This was seriously starting to feel like one of those ‘forced defeat’ moments in games. We’ve already been checkmated, haven’t we? I was about to throw my hands up in defeat—but then I remembered something.

I reached into my inventory and pulled out the «Permit»—a small metallic plate, no larger than a memo pad, shimmering with a faint bluish hue. A gift… from Azure God.

“An unknown material, clearly imbued with a technique never before seen. I suspect this will lead to unpredictable effects.”

Susa glanced at it, then stated his analysis in his usual blunt tone.

“From a glance, it resembles either a «Barrier» or «Liberation»-type technique. Similar to that magic you once used—the one that could bypass this world’s barrier systems.”

Oh, right. That was when I wanted to sneak into the royal capital of Old Amitia. Collard gave me that magic item… That brings back memories.

“Overall, the effects appear to be the same.”
“So, in short—I could use this to pass through the Void Mist?”
“That’s what the data suggests.”
“Susa, you b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲! Are you seriously suggesting the Princess go in there herself?!”

Tengai let out an enraged howl.

“Oh, don’t be absurd. I have no such intentions. But if the Princess chooses to, then all I can do is support her.”
“Ridiculous! There’s no way the Princess would throw herself into such a reckless—”
“……”
“Princess…?”

◆◇◆◇

Beyond the Nature’s Haven—located in the northwestern corner of the Sky Garden, behind the Scarlet Jade Ruby Castle and past rows of towering World Trees—lay the «Cemetery» area.

Though monsters had no concept of mourning, the cemetery had been constructed at Hiyuki’s request nearly a year ago. It had remained mostly empty until recently—when cultural exchange with the surface began, tombstones slowly began to populate the space.

Maroudo had come to visit a particular grave, but paused when he saw a fresh bouquet of roses placed atop a newly added tombstone.

—Valfang Adolfas Cur Graviol.

The gravestone was modest—bearing only the name and the span of years marking his life. It looked nothing like the resting place of the emperor of the world’s largest nation. But knowing its maker, that simplicity was fitting. To her, emperor or goblin—it made no difference in death.

A wry smile touched Maroudo’s lips as he offered a respectful bow, then continued on toward his original destination at a steady pace. The fresh bouquet of roses had hinted she might still be there.

He arrived just in time to see Hiyuki, dressed in a black mourning gown, seated atop a hill that overlooked the entire cemetery.

Hiyuki’s mourning attire—from the ribboned headpiece to the black rose corsage—was entirely pitch black. It contrasted sharply with her long, dark hair and pale skin, giving her an otherworldly, haunting beauty.

Even after all the time he’d spent by her side, Maroudo still hesitated to approach her. To him, she seemed like fine snow or fragile glass—ethereal, distant, and too delicate to touch.

“…You know, I often wonder about the choices I made.”

Hiyuki spoke softly, her eyes fixed on the gravestone before her—as if speaking directly to it. She had to know Maroudo stood behind her, but she didn’t turn.

“If I’d taken Prince Acyl’s hand back then… If I’d accepted her invitation to the villa… If I hadn’t gone to that ball out of idle curiosity… If I had done even one thing differently… maybe Angelica wouldn’t have died. Maybe I didn’t bring you back out of guilt or pity. Maybe… it was because I wanted you to hate me. For being so indecisive.”

She stood and finally turned to face him, her gaze meeting his. Maroudo—or rather, Acyl Claude, now unmasked—offered her a quiet, conflicted smile.

“If anyone deserves blame, it’s me—for my own foolishness, first and foremost. But to you… I’m deeply grateful. You saved both my soul and my sister’s. And beyond that—you saved Amitia itself.”

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