The view of Lintpia from atop the statue was breathtaking.

After an unusually arduous day, I felt completely drained, but the sight seemed to wash away my exhaustion all at once.

No matter how many times I saw it, I couldn’t help but feel addicted to this scene.

Even though Lintpia had lost much of its vibrancy and color, its unique charm remained undiminished.

Ah, so this is what they mean by “form is temporary, but class is eternal.”

I took a deep breath, trying to alleviate the heaviness in my chest.

Once everything was over, perhaps I’d camp here for a week. That didn’t sound too bad.

"Raydan Tantan!"

The voice felt oddly nostalgic, like a familiar scent carrying me back to old memories.

There was only one person who’d call out to me in a moment like this.

"You’ve come," I said, forcing a smile as I turned around.

But the sadness seeping into my expression was beyond my control.

No matter how much I tried to suppress it, my facial muscles wouldn’t obey.

"…What are you doing here?"

"I wonder that myself. What have I been doing until now?"

I turned my gaze toward the horizon, the weight of forgotten truths pressing down on me.

"Living while forgetting something so important," I murmured.

"…You’ve remembered, haven’t you?"

I nodded quietly in response to the Hunter’s question.

Though my thoughts were still chaotic, there was one fact I couldn’t ignore.

As I moved past her to climb down the statue, the Hunter grabbed my arm.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

"I have something to confirm."

"Then I’ll come with you."

"Are you sure? Where I’m headed, the beings are on par with the Recorder."

The mention of the Recorder’s level seemed to shake her resolve momentarily, her previously firm gaze faltering.

But then, she steadied herself, her brow furrowing with determination.

"I’ll endure it."

"…Alright."

Why?

I had expected her to say something like, "I’ll tear those beings apart on sight."

Her surprising choice of words puzzled me, but her newfound composure reassured me.

There was no longer any trace of the characteristic killing intent she once carried.

"Where are we going?"

"You’ll see."

I didn’t bother answering the Hunter’s question.

Perhaps it was the overcast mood that kept me quiet, or maybe I simply didn’t want to explain.

After walking for a while, we arrived in front of a building.

"…Is this the palace?"

"Yes, it is."

Thankfully, the Hunter didn’t press for more details or question why I knocked on the palace doors.

She merely watched silently as I acted.

A maid opened the door.

At the sight of me, her eyes widened in shock, and she stepped back.

"You’re…"

"Take me to the ruler of this domain."

Without a word, the maid turned and began to lead the way.

I followed, with the Hunter nodding slightly and trailing behind.

After a brief walk, the maid knocked on a door, and someone stepped out.

The moment our eyes met, the figure dropped to their knees.

"You’ve finally returned, Muji Absoluta."

"…Commander."

As expected, the current ruler of Lintpia was none other than the Knight Commander, who had once wielded tremendous power.

But his usual demeanor toward me was gone. Now, he knelt before me in reverent silence, like a devoted follower.

"Please rise. I do not deserve such treatment."

At my words, the Commander stood, though he remained solemn.

There were many things I wanted to say, many unresolved matters.

But now wasn’t the time.

"Take me to that room."

"Understood."

The Commander led me to a door that had been untouched for years.

Its weathered frame spoke of neglect, but its presence still carried a profound sense of melancholy.

It was a place that allowed no mediocrity to enter.

As I opened the door, I saw a woman seated inside.

Her golden tiara had tarnished with age, and her dress had faded.

Yet, her regal presence remained, her figure untouched by the decay around her.

She was exactly as I remembered.

"…Damn it," muttered the Hunter behind me.

Perhaps she saw something different—something that made her grit her teeth and struggle to maintain her composure.

Her resilience had grown since she once barely withstood Belle’s mental interference.

Now, she seemed capable of enduring even this oppressive atmosphere.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Leaving the Hunter where she stood, I cautiously approached the woman.

She slowly lifted her head, her hollow gaze fixing on me.

The lifelessness in her eyes gave way to recognition, her pupils lighting up as they widened.

Kneeling before her, I spoke.

"…Have you been well, Your Majesty?"

Once known as the Empress, now regarded as the Keeper of Life, Demeter sat beside the skeletal remains of the Emperor.

"I’ve returned at last, though much too late."

Tears welled in the Empress’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

Whether they were tears of regret or hope rekindled, only she could know.

 

The Empress gently caressed the skeletal remains of the Emperor, her expression caught somewhere between tenderness and obsession.

Watching her, I couldn’t quite tell if this was pure, untainted love or a form of madness.

But knowing the gods' propensity for intense fixation, it was likely the former—just another facet of their unwavering devotion.

"So," she asked, genuine curiosity lighting her eyes, "as Oko suggested, have you experienced other worlds?"

Her question prompted a bitter smile from me.

"Yes, I have. But they weren’t happy places. Things never seemed to go well, as though I were carrying the burden of sins from a past life."

The Empress chuckled softly.

"Perhaps it was Oko’s doing. She might have made those worlds difficult on purpose, to ensure you found your way back here."

Hmm.

That sounded plausible, especially considering her meddlesome tendencies.

Given the persistent accusations and threats I’d endured in those foreign realms—accusations of heinous crimes, like attempted assault—Oko’s design was clear.

It was as if she wanted to eliminate any possibility of me forming connections with others from the start.

The thought sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

The Empress smiled knowingly as she observed me.

"Poor Oko. She put so much effort into her schemes, and they still didn’t work as planned."

"What exactly are you referring to?" I asked, pretending ignorance.

"…Oko might sulk when she comes back. You’d better think of a way to placate her."

I feigned confusion, but I knew exactly what she meant.

Between Afta and the other gods now bound to me, and the Hunter’s relentless pursuit, there was already enough chaos in my life.

And then there was the Princess.

Her behavior had baffled me, but if it stemmed from gratitude for saving her, it all made sense.

If only she’d explained herself earlier.

"Your Majesty," I said.

"Yes?"

"We have the strength to stop the Second Princess. Your participation would strengthen our efforts significantly."

The Empress turned her gaze toward the Emperor, her expression sorrowful.

But seeing that I had been revived seemed to ignite a spark of hope in her.

Finally, she smiled—a warm, radiant smile—and gave her answer.

"Very well. But in return, when this fight is over, I want your help to bring him back."

"…Of course, Your Majesty."

I knelt before her, a gesture of absolute respect.

At last, everything was coming together.

"So, even the Hunter had such a story," I mused.

"Hm."

While I had been wandering through my scattered memories, the Hunter had delved into the origins of her profession.

She had discovered that "Hunters" were not a natural occupation, but an artificially created role designed to perpetuate humanity’s hatred of the gods.

Her father had been one of those early Hunters.

Unlike others, however, he refused to kill harmless gods, targeting only the truly dangerous ones.

But this defiance earned him powerful enemies, and eventually, he met a tragic end.

"Such a bleak tale," I said softly.

If that was the truth behind the Hunters, then what had the Hunter herself been fighting for all this time?

Where would her hatred go now?

Despite it all, her expression looked surprisingly unburdened.

"Are you alright, Hunter?" I asked cautiously.

"I’ve only ever hunted those who threatened Lontan," she replied. "I carry no guilt for that."

"No, I mean… about your father."

Her lips curled slightly, a bitter smile playing on her face.

"Of course it angers me," she admitted.

I nodded. As expected.

"But a train with no destination is just stuck in place. If I want to keep moving, I have to find a new goal. That’s all there is to it."

Her words caught me off guard with their unexpected wisdom.

For the first time in a long while, I smiled.

"Have you decided on your new destination?" I asked.

The Hunter stared at me, her gaze heavy and unreadable.

When I turned away, feeling the weight of her stare, she chuckled softly.

"I have," she said simply.

Though her words left me puzzled, I decided to let it go.

Sometimes, good things didn’t need overthinking.

Just as we prepared to head back to Lontan, a voice interrupted us.

"Sorry to intrude on your pleasant conversation."

That voice…

The Hunter and I turned simultaneously, both startled.

Standing before us was Agartha.

"…Agartha?"

"Yes, it’s me."

But something was off.

Where her prosthetic arm had once been, a real arm now held a book and a pen, her posture demure.

As I stared, black tendrils sprouted from her abdomen, her sharp features softening into someone I knew all too well.

"…I see."

Understanding dawned on me.

This was Oko's doing. She must have made this arrangement, granting Agartha her role as a vessel.

While the Hunter stood frozen, her eyes wide with disbelief, I managed a bittersweet smile.

"…You’ve been here all along, haven’t you?"

"Yes."

Where Agartha had stood, there was now Afta, the Recorder, her radiant smile directed at me.

"Because, Raydan, I adore you."