We squeezed through the narrow passage, eventually arriving at a small room, no bigger than about one square meter.

Agartha, with her relatively thin frame, seemed unfazed, but the hunter, bundled in thick clothing, and the more stout Saint, were clearly struggling. The hunter panted for breath, and the Saint let out a groan of discomfort.

"I'm sorry for dragging you all here," I apologized to them, seeing how exhausted they were. But the hunter just snorted, while the Saint shook his head and approached.

"Sir Tanthan, you mustn't apologize!" the Saint exclaimed with a serious expression, pointing toward the red-tinged inscription on the wall.

"Human curiosity! It never ends!"

The hunter frowned slightly at the Saint's loud declaration, but hearing it filled me with a sense of elation.

My purpose, the goal that had seemed endless, was now taking shape. I couldn’t afford to lose heart in moments like these. After all, humans must always take one more step forward.

I nodded at the Saint.

"Thank you, Saint."

"I have done nothing. It's all due to your mental fortitude, Sir Tanthan."

As I smiled in response to the Saint’s words, the hunter muttered something while staring at the inscription.

"…That inscription gives me the same feeling as that dog."

"Just brushing past it makes my head hurt."

Agartha, hearing the hunter’s comment, was now clutching her head in discomfort.

I looked at the inscription. Something about it felt off—this was clearly the final inscription in the cave.

To think that just an inscription could exude the power equivalent to a Foreign Entity… No wonder the Saint had described the Scribe as the most powerful of their kind.

What secret was hidden within this inscription to imbue it with such strength?

Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself before stepping forward, resolute in my decision. I had endured direct mental attacks from Nutrische, a being on par with a Foreign Entity, so I was confident I could read this inscription as well.

Focusing intently on the inscription, the words began to solidify, revealing their contents.

The first inscription.

• Raidan Tanthan.

 

"…!!"

The moment I saw the inscription, I was utterly shocked.

Not only was my name written in blood-red letters, but the Scribe had written it perfectly, not a single character out of place.

I had already suspected that the previous inscriptions had been meant for my eyes alone, and this confirmed it. The Scribe had been waiting for me to find these inscriptions.

"Sir Tanthan! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine. Please stay back."

I raised my voice to stop the Saint, who seemed ready to rush to my side, likely thinking something had gone wrong when I recoiled in surprise.

The words of the Gardener when I first met him echoed in my mind: "You smell of the Inquisitor and the Scribe."

Now, the Scribe had written my name here, right in front of me.

This could only mean one thing: the Scribe had been watching me from the very beginning.

But why?

Why was someone like me, a mere human, being observed?

Swallowing dryly, I turned to read the final inscription.

• You must remember what has been forgotten. She must never be forgotten. Never.

 

'This is my final gift to you.'

The moment I read the emphasized part of the inscription…

"Ugh…!"

"Sir Tanthan!"

"Tanthan!"

A sudden, unbearable pain struck my head, as if someone were squeezing my brain. I lost my balance and collapsed, with the Saint and Agartha rushing to catch me.

But I couldn’t stand. Along with the pain came flashes, like a montage of memories racing through my mind.

Images I had never seen before.

• There was a woman, crying.

 

It was the same image that had briefly crossed my mind that day on the train, while I was talking to White Mask before the dragon-slaying mission.

• Raidan Tanthan was facing the crying woman.

 

And it was me, Raidan Tanthan, standing in front of that crying woman.

Was this the Scribe’s doing?

No.

I vehemently denied it.

• The woman reached out, gently touching Tanthan’s cheek, her lips moving as if she were trying to say something.

 

Who was this woman?

'The one you must never forget.'

As the image of her lips formed clearly in my mind…

'This is my final gift to you, Raidan.'

"A-ah."

"Sir Tanthan, pull yourself together! Why are you crying?!"

"S-Saint! Is Sir Tanthan going to be okay like this?!"

"…Damn it. Something felt off. We need to get out of here…."

As my companions frantically tried to lift me, I gently pushed their hands away.

They looked at me in shock.

"Sir Tanthan! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Agartha. Thank you."

I had no idea why I was crying. The moment I heard that unfamiliar woman’s voice, tears just flowed.

What exactly was the Scribe trying to show me?

What message was so important that even though I had never seen these words before, they felt so familiar?

As my mind raced, struggling to process the overload of information, new crimson letters began to appear on the wall beside me.

"This… This can't be! How is it possible for the Scribe to inscribe such powerful words so recklessly?!"

"…Tch."

"Sir Tanthan!"

The Saint was awestruck by witnessing the Scribe write the words in real-time, while the hunter and Agartha quickly prepared themselves, on guard.

But what would that accomplish?

It was a Foreign Entity from the conceptual realm.

And besides, it wasn’t trying to attack us. The Scribe was likely just waiting for the right time, watching me all along.

The newly written words finally stopped, punctuated by a period. With effort, I moved to read them.

• If you have seen this, then the time has come. We will meet soon, Raidan Tanthan. I look forward to that moment.

 

'We will meet soon,' huh?

I like a Foreign Entity that acts quickly.

I had a mountain of questions to ask.

Just how much did the Scribe know about me, about Raidan Tanthan?

And why had it been taking care of me so subtly?

"Sir Tanthan! Stay with us! Sir Tanthan!"

"Enough already…!"

"…Sir Tanthan, what exactly did you see?"

All I wanted to do now was clear my head.

My consciousness began to fade.

In the quiet of Tanthan’s room, a girl with brown hair sat, as usual.

Her face was always expressionless, but today, there was an especially dark aura around her.

She gripped Tanthan’s blanket tightly, as if she were about to make a terrible decision.

Her eyes were filled with denial of reality, yet also a firm resolve.

"…Master."

Finally, the girl had made up her mind.

There was no other choice.

She could no longer burden her master.

That was her decision.

Returning to her room, she packed her things.

She answered the call of the followers.

And, as one who had grown from a fragment of 'Mother,' she was fully qualified to lead them.

After all, she was part of 'Her,' so there was no reason for the followers to reject her.

She planned to move the followers to another territory.

At the very least, she wanted to ensure that neither Londan nor her master suffered because of her.

That was her plan.

"…Thank you for everything."

Thanks to Tanthan, the life that would have been meaningless had shone briefly.

But now, there was no time to lose.

The moment had nearly arrived.

The girl quickly began to move.

The hunter, Agartha, and the Saint looked down at the unconscious Tanthan.

The hunter had been silently observing Agartha's behavior, which bothered him. Normally, she would be making a fuss, being loud as always.

But now, she just stood there, gazing sadly at the fallen Tanthan, without making a move.

However, the hunter said nothing. To someone as self-centered as him, other people's problems weren’t worth getting involved in.

For now, he needed to escape.

That was the task at hand.

The passage was narrow. In this situation, he would likely have to carefully push Tanthan through as they made their way out.

As the hunter formulated his plan and was about to put it into action, the sound of footsteps echoed through the cave—steps that didn’t seem human.

A sense of déjà vu washed over him.

Yes, just like the time in the underground prison. That same eerie feeling.

Hah.

The hunter let out a scoff and turned to glare at the Saint.

Of course, there had to be a Foreign Entity in this unknown space. He had foolishly forgotten one of Londan’s iron rules: 'Never venture into unknown spaces lightly.'

Why had he let himself trust Tanthan's words so blindly?

The hunter mused that he hadn’t been thinking clearly lately.

"Thief."

"I know."

"You do."

The thief nodded a few times and made his way toward the entrance.

"I'm leaving first."

"What?!"

Agartha exclaimed in shock, but the hunter simply glanced at her.

"Staying in a cramped space like this and getting caught by a Foreign Entity is a death sentence. It's better to face it in an open area."

"But we don’t know for sure if we’ve been spotted…!"

"And you'd risk staying here with an injured man on the off chance we haven't? Now that's laughable."

With that, the hunter holstered his gun and squeezed himself into the passage.

As Agartha watched the hunter, she smirked.

"…The guy who always looks out for himself is staying behind to help Tanthan?"

Perhaps she was only joking to lighten the heavy mood, but the hunter dismissed the thought.

Tanthan was essential to defeating the Foreign Entities.

That’s all it was—pure logic, no emotional attachment, the hunter thought.

"Let’s go."

"I’m coming with you."

Agartha stood up.

The hunter, who had expected Agartha to be nothing but dead weight, now hesitated to tell her to stay behind. She raised her prosthetic arm.

"You think I’d just sit back? It takes some strength to reach this kind of position. Besides, this prosthetic’s come in handy."

Her usual playful smile returned to her face as she said that. The hunter just snorted in response.

"Do whatever you want."

"Right."

"I’ll come too, Agartha."

Hearing the Saint’s words, the hunter raised his eyebrows in surprise and glanced at him. Something was off.

Maybe it was because the Saint was seeing a Foreign Entity for the first time, but he looked oddly excited.

Yes, he seemed quite thrilled.

For some reason, the guilt of Raidan Tanthan hung in the air between the Saint and the rest of them.

With those feelings in mind, the hunter and Agartha regarded the Saint with cold eyes.

"Have I done something wrong…?"

Neither of them answered as they made their way through the passage, the Saint following behind with a puzzled expression.