The Executioner and Her Way of Life

Still covering Pandæmonium’s ears, Manon turned around slowly. There stood the man who had so fervently recommended this inn.

He appeared to be in his midfifties, and he was wearing a bowler hat and carrying a J-shaped cane. The expensive-looking tuxedo he was wearing gave him the impression of an out-of-place gentleman.

Manon was less than fond of the man, but she did trust his abilities. He was older and more experienced than her, and he had sowed chaos across the entire continent in the past; there was no doubt he was an outstanding individual.

“Excuse me, Mr. Director…”

The man called the Director, who was smiling warmly at Manon, twitched in response.

“I believe you told me that this place was the perfect resort for some peaceful relaxation.”

“Y-yes, I did indeed.”

“You said this inn was managed by an old friend of yours, as I recall. That it was inexpensive, safe, and comfortable.”

“Ha, ha-ha-ha…”

The Director chuckled nervously. Manon smiled back at him a little too brightly.

Despite having sacrificed her entire family, traveled with the Pure Concept of
Evil
that could destroy the world, and had the ridiculous goal of trying to go to her mother’s homeland in the other world, she was still an adolescent. Given what Manon had just heard about this inn, she was hardly eager to stay in such a place, being a girl of a young age.

“So do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“…I’m terribly sorry! B-but listen, Miss Manon! I do have contacts at other inns, so you may put your heart at ease!”

“I’m afraid that doesn’t reassure me in the least.”

Manon maintained her polite grin while scolding the Director.

As Pandæmonium watched the exchange with an appropriately childlike expression of confusion, her ears still covered, she murmured to herself, “Mm-mm… He hasn’t changed a bit since we first met, has he?”

Manon and Pandæmonium first met the Director about a month ago.

Their first encounter had been in a tower standing in a remote region of the Grisarika Kingdom.

It was so remote that there were no roads to nearby towns, never mind a train station. One had to wonder how long the tower had been standing in such an inconvenient location—and for what purpose. Most people didn’t even know it existed, but one cloudy, moonless night, a jet-black monster clung unnoticed to its peak.

A monster was a living creature that had been taken over by a Concept of Original Sin and driven mad to the point that its impulses overrode its survival instinct.

And yet this monster was bizarrely calm and quiet as two girls peered over its back.

“That was a half-decent adventure in the sky. Wasn’t it, Manon?”

“Yes, quite a splendid experience.”

Manon and Pandæmonium climbed down from the creature’s back and into the tower. Manon had become linked to Pandæmonium in Libelle, and it was on her suggestion that they came to this spire where the Director was being kept.

“Shall we find Mr. Director’s room, then?”

After easily infiltrating the structure, the pair began to work their way down through the seemingly empty interior. They checked the rooms on the top floor, then continued on until they finally reached the ground level without finding anyone.

After searching a bit more, they discovered stairs leading to the basement.

“We did it!”

“Yes!”

Pandæmonium high-fived Manon with her tiny hand. Then they went down the stairs and found what they sought.

The prison in the cellar was set up as an unbelievably comfortable living area.

Even royals of the Noblesse were not granted such luxury. Manon peered around the chamber, intrigued.

It was like a VIP room for welcoming aristocrat visitors. The fact that the man in the room was dressed to match it perfectly only emphasized the strangeness of the situation.

The gentlemanly fellow raised a hand from the other side of the prison bars, looking unsurprised by Manon’s arrival.

“Hello there. You are Pandæmonium’s new underling, are you not? Good evening to you.”

How did he know about Manon when he was locked in a jail cell, albeit such a luxurious one? The man chuckled lightly and ducked his head, taking control of the conversation.

“I am the Director. Pleased to make your acquaintance… Although, I suppose we will not know each other for long.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Director. Er… So you have no intention of leaving this place, then?”

“Does it look like I wish to?”

It did not.

While this was an underground jail cell, there was no lock on the door. It would open at the slightest push. And as the girls had learned from their thorough exploration of the upper part of the tower, there were no guards stationed here. If he wished to leave, he could do so at any time.

This was Manon’s first time here, but she could already tell.

He wasn’t being kept in a jail cell. He was here of his own free will.

“I am told you had comrades who committed terrorist attacks in an attempt to free you. Yet you prefer to remain here?”

“Oh, them? Such pitiful creatures. Those who know nothing occasionally take such foolish actions. That is the tragedy of the ignorant.” He shook his head. “And Miss Orwell’s deeds in misusing those fools are even more deplorable. In the end, her transgressions led only to…this, hmm?”

The Director held up a newspaper lying on his desk. How had he acquired such a thing living in this isolated tower?

It was from the day of Orwell’s funeral service.

“Look at this. A great holy woman has perished. She once subjugated a terrible dragonblight, yet she was laid low by the mere apprentice of Flare. Truly, age is a terrifying thing…”

“I’m not so sure I would describe the archbishop as a ‘great’ holy woman. She was executed because she committed a taboo.”

“Ah… Young people.”

The Director looked pityingly at Manon’s blank expression.

To think that one so renowned as Archbishop Orwell could fade in just a few decades. People forgot about others so easily, even if they weren’t Otherworlders whose memories were chipped away by Pure Concepts.

“Whether she committed a taboo or not, Miss Orwell’s greatness is beyond any doubt. At the very least, I shall continue to sing her praises. She was a great holy woman, I tell you. She committed a taboo precisely because she was more faithful to the Lord’s teachings than anyone else.”

The Director’s tone was bittersweet as he spoke of the late woman.

He was the first to propose the ideology of the Fourth and worked hard to dismantle the current caste system and change the world. As such, he had knowledge of many people.

“Miss Orwell became an archbishop, but she put aside her scripture in her later years. Do you know the reason, I wonder?”

“Put aside…her scripture? Why would she do such a thing?”

“Because she had no choice but to part with it. A scripture is the Lord’s eyes, ears, and occasionally, mouth as well. And since Miss Orwell was pursuing an ideal Lord and devoted herself to the taboo of
Ivory
, she was forced to abandon the weapon she was most familiar with… Miss Orwell was more devoted to her faith than most, however, so perhaps she relinquished her scripture out of guilt.”

“The scripture is connected to the Lord? No, more importantly… The way you phrased that makes it sound like the Lord is not just a concept, but something or someone who actually exists.”

“Precisely. It is an absolute certainty that the protector of the world exists in the holy land, surrounded by the Elders, much to my frustration. I must credit this feeling to the Mechanical Society, too… Ah, truly, how irritating.”

“I see…,” Manon responded vaguely to the man’s mysterious words. “And why are you telling me this?”

“You came all the way here in hopes of learning such things, did you not?”

That was true enough. Manon sought the Director because she wanted to hear his views.

Pandæmonium would happily answer any inquiries about the ways of the world, but her reasoning was always a bit too destructive. Most of all, Manon couldn’t trust one-sided information from a single source to be entirely true.

That was why she’d decided to make contact with the Director, but he turned out to be even more intriguing than she expected.

“Yes, that’s true.” Manon tapped a finger to her chin and thought for a moment before continuing. “I came to ask you: What is conjuring, exactly?”

“A good query.” The Director nodded, looking satisfied. “The fact that you would question such a thing means you are already drawing close to the truth of this world. Very well. Out of respect for how far you have come…and more importantly, as a reward for the achievements of the little creature next to you… I will be happy to answer your—”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Manon interrupted.

“Hrmm?”

The Director regarded Manon quizzically.

The young woman clasped her hands together and smiled at herself.

“Your connections, your reputation, and all the knowledge you gathered during your time. Will you bequeath all that remains of the Fourth to me?”

“Ha-ha-ha. You shall have to content yourself with the minimum amount of information.”

The Director rejected the proposal without a moment’s hesitation.

“A youngster such as yourself ought to earn her own achievements and fame. There is no reason to give all that one has to another person for free, save for love. Unfortunately, you are too young for me to harbor romantic feelings for you, and I am not your father or the like.”

“It’s true that I am only a girl, just as you say.” Manon knew where she stood and went on to describe what she could offer. “That is why I require your help. You have everything it is that I lack, and I am sure I can offer you whatever it is that you lost, too.”

“…Indeed? Do you not realize that this world is beyond repair?”

“Oh, but it isn’t.” Manon shook her head calmly and gave Pandæmonium a loving pat. “There is something I must fix. Why else would a little girl like me be able to travel with this one here?”

“…Hrmm.”

This exchange gave the Director a glimpse into what Manon wanted. It was enough to elicit no small amount of empathy from him.

“Is that right…? Yes, I see. Well then, Miss Manon…”

“What is it?”

“The truth is: I do have a single regret. If you can grant me my wish, then I suppose I shall come with you.”

“I will be happy to oblige, if it is within my power.”

The Director’s ask was simple. He had failed to act upon his love long ago and remained single, and he did very slightly regret that.

And so it was with a serious expression that he offered up his request to the girl who was around the right age to be his daughter.

“Would you be willing to call me Papa from now on?”

“I see.”

Upon hearing the Director’s request, the young girl smiled and gave a courteous bow. Then she turned around without a second thought.

“A dangerous man like yourself would be better off staying here forever. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“B-but why?!”

The man immediately flew into a panic at Manon’s change of heart. But she saw no benefit in responding to the Director’s plea. Manon started to walk away, but Pandæmonium’s small hand tugged on her sleeve.

“Mmm, Manon. That man seems very upset for some reason. We’re really leaving him?”

“Yes, we are. Let’s go, shall we? He’s simply too strange. I apologize, since it was my suggestion to meet the Director in the first place… However, it’s clear we shouldn’t get involved any further.”

“W-wait! Please, don’t go!”

As Manon ushered Pandæmonium out of the room, the Director finally jumped out of his seat.

Hearing this, Manon reluctantly turned back with obvious displeasure. “What, you’re planning on coming out on your own? Would you stay away from us, please?”

“No, I cannot! I swear, I shall do whatever you need!”

“Oh, dear… What’s wrong with this man?”

Thus, the Director left his prison and followed after the frowning Manon.

Manon Libelle was the type of person who made decisions based on feelings over logic.

She didn’t have an impulsive personality by any stretch of the imagination. Rarely had she ever lost her temper and shouted at someone, burst out sobbing in the face of a sad event, or indulged in any other display of powerful emotions. Since her childhood was so repressed, the waves of Manon’s temperament were, if anything, quite calm and level.

However, Manon did base her priorities on personal preference.

Her choices were dependent on what she liked more, not what was more advantageous.

Since she’d fulfilled her wish of becoming a taboo in Libelle and gained her freedom, she turned her attention more toward satisfying her own whims. The reason she was traveling with Pandæmonium, too, was that she found the girl’s proposal pleasing when she initially revived Manon.

Presently, there was only one thing on Manon’s mind—taking a hot springs bath.

“…And so, you see, that is the situation at hand. The rash of so-called crimes was actually perpetrated by a violent priestess girl named Momo. Those men are not sex offenders at all. They were only attempting to ensure that they could safely welcome us. That girl is still on the loose, and at this rate…”

The Director was standing in front of Manon, prattling on while insisting that the inn he had chosen was perfectly safe—and that he hadn’t made a poor choice at all. Or something along those lines.

Evidently, a series of misunderstandings had led to a group of Fourth members being misconstrued as perverts and arrested. But what sort of wild mix-up led to assassins being taken for lowly sex pests? Manon didn’t quite follow, so she let the Director’s lengthy explanation go in one ear and out the other.

Manon didn’t have any particularly strong convictions. She preferred not to be bound by obligations like duty and responsibility. She had only freed the Director as an incidental outcome of their first meeting. His following her around was something of an annoyance.

The only companions Manon desired were cute girls, not weird old men.

As the young woman made this earnest wish deep in her heart, she picked up a small teapot and poured herself some tea. The pot was an exceptional little object that used a simple conjuring crest to boil water. To any who couldn’t use conjurings, it was an ordinary teapot, however, which made it seem an odd inclusion at an inn.

Manon took a sip of the tea and sighed.

She and the others were in an Otherworld-style room of a level rarely seen elsewhere.

The hallway had beautiful wood-grained floors, and each chamber was laid out with tatami mats. The wooden building had a strict rule against wearing shoes in past the entryway, a rarity. And guests were provided with
yukata
instead of bathrobes after using the hot springs.

Manon’s father, who was a member of the Noblesse, was an ardent admirer of Japanese culture because of Manon’s Otherworlder mother. The kimonos that Manon wore daily were indeed conspicuous, yet they paled in comparison to this Japanese-style inn.

There was a total of three people in the room.

The Director, who was still talking; Manon, who was more or less ignoring him; and Pandæmonium, who was sprawled out on the tatami.

The visibly youngest of the trio was wearing her usual white dress, rolling around quite adorably on the floor. Then, on a whim, she suddenly hopped to her feet.

Her unexpected motion drew the gazes of both Manon and the Director.

Pandæmonium ignored their attention, staring up into space with a gleeful smile spreading across her face.

“Did something come up?”

“Uh-huh. A very interesting girl is nearby. I’m going to go mess with her a little.”

This inexplicable behavior was nothing new for Pandæmonium. Manon realized she was looking in the direction of the town’s train station. She hesitated briefly, wondering whether to try to stop the little girl.

Pandæmonium was the personification of the Pure Concept of
Evil
. However, in her current state, her power was severely limited.

Any use of her abilities required a corresponding sacrifice. Not long ago, she had spent nearly all her reserves in the battle against Master Flare. Pandæmonium only possessed about ten people’s worth of sacrifices remaining at the moment. She was in no danger of dying, since she could offer herself as a sacrifice to summon a new copy of herself, but she was unreliable in battle.

“All right… Be careful.”

“Mm. I’ll be sure to bring back a souvenir.”

Ultimately, Manon let the girl do as she wished.

Manon didn’t really have genuine control over Pandæmonium anyway. Pandæmonium harbored no real intentions of her own. She acknowledged Manon because the
Evil
of the world had deemed her a necessary individual.

Someday, Pandæmonium would undoubtedly plunge Manon into the depths of hell.

As likely as not, she would consume the entirety of Manon’s existence and forget about her, all while sporting the same innocent smile that she wore now.

And that was fine.

Manon Libelle was content to travel with Pandæmonium, knowing full well that such an end awaited her.

“You should come outside, too, Manon. I bet you’ll have a wonderful chance encounter!”

Pandæmonium giggled cherubically as she left the inn to tempt someone to wickedness.

When she heard the train slowing, Sahara knew from her place within the scripture that they had safely arrived at the hot springs town.

At the moment, she couldn’t see anything outside. Menou had shoved the scripture that contained her spirit deep into the bag she carried at her waist.

As she was hauled around like a piece of luggage, Sahara calculated that they were roughly two days behind Momo and Akari. That said, it made no difference to her whether Menou caught the girls.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. When Menou reunited with Akari, she would take her to the holy land. When they got there, the priestess would hand over the scripture with Sahara still inside.

From there, Sahara’s best outcome was being burned. If she was truly unlucky, they might experiment on her.

Either way, the day of her execution was drawing closer, and Sahara couldn’t even move on her own. Thinking about the inevitable future gradually wore down Sahara’s spirit. But she knew this was a punishment for her deeds.

As Sahara was sinking into a pessimistic spiral, Menou and her traveling companion disembarked from the train and parted ways.

Ashuna was sending Menou into town to check into the inn. The princess likely planned to unwind in the train station’s rest area, then take her time heading over to the inn once their room was ready. She was clearly accustomed to putting other people to work on her travels.

Lucky her
, Sahara thought bitterly.

They had never actually spoken a single word to each other, but Sahara deeply disliked Ashuna Grisarika. The princess’s immense self-confidence was bothersome, and her overly familiar attitude rubbed Sahara the wrong way, too. Even if Sahara had been in a healthy state, she certainly wouldn’t have wanted to befriend Ashuna.

So she kept her Guiding Force hidden, hoping the other girl wouldn’t notice her.

Truthfully, Sahara wished to disappear entirely.

Being a nobody was intolerable. She struggled and suffered with bitterness and jealousy, and when she finally realized that her abilities would never reach the level of a person she longed to be, her life fell apart.

Envy.

This feeling was the basis of a conjuring counted among the Original Sin taboos, and it was Sahara’s sin: the desire to become Menou that finally broke her.

If only her soul, her font of Guiding Force, would vanish. If only her spirit and thoughts would cease to be. If she was going to be killed anyway, perhaps she could just make herself disappear instead…

Or not. A wave of annoyance struck Sahara.

Why should she have to perish anyway? Since Sahara still existed, she decided she might as well inconvenience Menou as much as possible to the very end, remaining like a thorn in her memories.

As Sahara was forming these deeply negative new principles, Menou returned.

This was faster than Sahara expected. Evidently, Ashuna felt the same way.

“Hrm, that was fast. Were you able to get a room?”

“Yes. However, they said check-in would take some time and requested that we wait here a bit. Is that all right?”

“Oh? I suppose I’ll enjoy your service for a while longer, then.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Menou seemed to be getting quite accustomed to playing the part of a servant. She smiled sweetly, still clad in a butler’s uniform, and headed over to the food counter to acquire some light snacks. From the look of it, she was ordering Ashuna’s favorite black tea.

“Here you are.”

“Excellent.”

Menou brought the tea over to Ashuna, who accepted it with a haughty nod. She seemed to be enjoying playing the part of Menou’s Master.

As Ashuna sipped the tea, Menou began gathering their things. As both were seasoned travelers, there wasn’t much luggage between them. Menou didn’t seem particularly invested as she sorted their belongings, and she carelessly touched Sahara’s scripture.

“…?”

Sahara felt something strange.

In her current state, she didn’t have the sensory systems of a human body. Sahara’s soul and spirit were being fed information through the scripture’s functions. And what it was currently collecting and sending to her contained something very unusual.

“……!”

When Sahara realized the source of the odd sensation, her soul trembled.

Even the moment before her death at Menou’s hands hadn’t shocked her this much. At the same time, she was relieved that her existence had miraculously gone unnoticed.

Sahara remained utterly silent until the person going through the bag finished putting her things back and moved away.

“That took a good deal longer than expected.”

Checking into the inn was more involved than Menou had first believed. She grumbled to herself as she walked down the main road toward the station where Ashuna was waiting.

It was the Executioner’s first time in this settlement. It took a while to find a fancy inn that might be to Ashuna’s liking—and even longer to decide what level of room to get when she did choose an inn.

Ashuna wasn’t likely to get upset over the wait, but she might very well tease Menou for it anyway. Feeling a bit glum as she neared the station, Menou was surprised to find Ashuna standing at the entrance.

“Hey, Menou. Done checking in?”

“Your Highness?”

Menou’s eyes widened as the other girl greeted her with a wave. She hadn’t expected the princess to come outside to wait for her.

The luxury sleeper train lived up to its name, after all. The ticket prices were accordingly exorbitant, but they came with far more services than any ordinary passenger received.

Holders of a luxury train ticket were granted various services anywhere on the train line. Naturally, that included within the train stations. Such passengers were allowed exclusive access to a special rest area in the station.

Menou had assumed that Ashuna would be relaxing in there, yet she had apparently come out to greet the priestess.

“Well, waiting inside turned out to be more boring than I thought. Here, you can take the luggage.”

“Right… Thank you very much.”

This was highly unusual for Ashuna. As Menou received the bags, she wondered why the princess was being so kind.

“Now, then. Let’s see whether this hotel you took so long in choosing meets your standards, shall we?”

“Please don’t…”

Clearly, Ashuna only came out because she was eager to resume her teasing. Menou sighed and slumped her shoulders, then realized something.

Sahara was utterly unresponsive in the scripture. She didn’t give a single hint of Guiding Force reaction.

The scripture Menou currently carried under her left arm was Momo’s. She felt the scripture containing Sahara at the bottom of her bag.

Sahara’s lack of mockery felt fishy. Menou was suspicious, but she couldn’t very well speak to the scripture in front of Ashuna.

“Now, I wonder, were you right about Momo being here? I’m looking forward to this.”

“That’s what we’re here to find out.
Not
to have fun, so I’d appreciate it if you tempered your expectations, please…”

As they conversed, Menou and Ashuna headed into the hot spring town where they suspected Momo might be found.

“Well?”

Having broken into a mansion on the outskirts of town, Momo glared down at the person at her feet.

“Would you mind telling me what exactly happened yesterday? I’ve already got plenty of evidence against you.”

The man she had mercilessly tied up with her wirelike coping saw was the manager of the inn where she and Akari were staying. While Akari was convinced they had just been attacked by a series of unrelated sex offenders the day before, the insightful Momo sensed there was something more sinister behind it.

“You are the Recruiter, are you not? So why would you hire people to attack us, hmm? I may be a white-clad aide, but it should still be obvious that I belong to the Faust. Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”

“L-like I’m ever gonna tell you…!”

Just as Momo suspected, they really hadn’t been common criminals. The assault had occurred
because
she was part of the Faust. From the men’s point of view, a girl in priestess’s robes had shown up shortly before they were to welcome their recently escaped Director. Even if she was just an assistant priestess, it was only natural to assume that the Faust had caught wind of their plans and sent someone to intercept.

However, this was an unfortunate misunderstanding that only resulted in drawing Momo’s attention to them.

“I see. Let me ask you another question, then.”

Momo wasn’t terribly insistent on learning why they had been attacked. Instead, she stated the main reason she’d tracked down the underworld businessman called the Recruiter.

“Hand over the list of your clients.”

The bound man remained silent.

His role was to gather up criminals and give them work. He would never spill secrets about associates, even if tortured or threatened with death.

Momo regarded his determined expression with something like amusement. Her eyes glittered sadistically, like a cat licking its lips before toying with a dying mouse.

She drew out her favored weapon from the frilly hem of her skirt.

It was the second one she carried, the first being the one she’d used to bind the man. The grating, metallic sound it made hinted that it was designed not for cutting or for tying, but for sawing. She had chosen this weapon specifically to make her enemies suffer.

“Well, let’s see how long you can hold out, then. I might not look it, but I got rather high marks in both torture and interrogation.”

Most people could only tolerate so much pain, even if they’re fully prepared to die.

Momo was aware of that as she began to move the saw.

“So I’ve found our next target.”

A little while later, Momo returned from her morning escapade and relayed the events of the day to Akari.

The lost lamb stared at Momo in growing horror as she described exactly how she’d gotten information out of the Recruiter.

“Uh, Momo…”

The methods would have made even the hardened criminals of this town turn pale. Akari shook her head in disbelief at the heinous crimes against humanity the other girl casually described.

“Don’t you have a single shred of a conscience or compassion or any of those nice C words? How do you even look at yourself in the mirror?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Momo tilted her head, looking genuinely at a loss for what the alleged issue was with her actions. “I just brought down a criminal group that attacked us first. Then I acquired the information necessary to root them out completely. If anything, you ought to be congratulating me on accomplishing both in such a short time.”

“Oh really…?”

“Yes, really. I have no doubt that my darling would be patting me on the head and praising me right now.”

“Oh
really
?”

The results alone seemed all right, but Akari couldn’t help feeling like Momo had gone overboard. At the very least, she seriously doubted that Menou would have wholeheartedly approved of such methods.

Still, Akari wasn’t overly interested in Momo’s victims, either.

“So what are we going to do now?”

“I thought we could exterminate the rest of the Fourth scum and get you some training in the process,” Momo said, offering a rather disturbing plan in the tone one might use to suggest a light stroll after a bath.

Akari wrinkled her nose.

“More of your so-called combat training? I don’t want to do that…”

Akari wasn’t the type to willfully engage in violence.

In the face of her evident reluctance, Momo devised another strategy.

“The Fourth is the group who drove my darling into a corner in Libelle. If we leave them alone, they’ll try to hurt her again.”

“We can’t let that happen! Let’s burn them to the ground!”

That was enough to get Akari completely on board. The Fourth members in this town were about to be in great peril.

“I was able to get information about the remaining Fourth members, some institutions that have committed various taboos, and so forth. Come with me, and we’ll eradicate them one by one.”

“You got it!”

Watching Akari nod vigorously, Momo knew her plan was going smoothly.

She was going to train Akari to lessen the burden on Menou. At least, that was what she’d said to convince Akari.

Her actual objective was to get Akari to overuse her Pure Concept.

Momo had no way to get rid of Akari, for the ordinary methods wouldn’t kill her, and Menou’s plan of using the Sword of Salt required passing through the holy land. Since Momo was currently on the run from her superior, she couldn’t go with that option, either.

What was Momo to do, then?

She had reached a very different conclusion from Menou. All it would take was turning Akari into a Human Error.

By deceiving Akari into using her Pure Concept under the guise of combat training, Momo intended to make her consume all her memories.

Menou’s ultimate goal as an Executioner was to prevent anyone else from getting hurt. A Human Error was the worst situation imaginable for her.

Momo had been following Menou’s directions, but her course had changed drastically upon hearing everything from Akari.

If Akari Tokitou became a Human Error, there were bound to be casualties. She could even wipe out an entire town.

And once Akari’s Pure Concept went out of control, she would lose her sense of self.

There was no returning from that, extinguishing any hope of saving her. The holy land might even dispatch an entire squad to destroy the Human Error, instead of Menou having to do it alone. She would be relieved of the duty, and thus she would have no reason to betray the Faust to save Akari.

Of course, that would mean Menou had failed her mission, but it wouldn’t cost her life. The punishment for Momo’s solo escapade would likely be no worse than being reduced to a nun, either.

It was undoubtedly much better than letting Akari continue to turn back time repeated with no apparent hope of succeeding.
Regression
was far from risk-free, too. If she kept rewinding time, it might set Pandæmonium free completely.

It was a question of which would be worse: Akari becoming a Human Error or Pandæmonium’s seal being released.

The only drawback was that there was no telling what kind of Human Error Akari might turn into, but Pandæmonium’s threat was historically proven. She was one of the monstrous Four Major Human Errors that once destroyed an ancient civilization.

Her pinky alone had wrought plenty of destruction.

If the seal on the fog was broken completely, she might literally consume the world. That was certainly what happened to the Alliance of Southern Islands, land and all.

As long as Momo kept starting fights in this town and forcing Akari to use her Pure Concept conjurings, the girl’s memories would eventually be used up. Once she didn’t have enough left to use
Regression
on the entire world, the seal on the fog would loosen no more. Momo had come here because the village was isolated in the mountains. There were many tourists, but since it was a primarily Commons town, there were no important facilities nearby. If Akari became a Human Error here, it would only mean the annihilation of a single village.

Momo wasn’t as kind as Menou. She simply chose the method most likely to save her darling’s life.

As she gazed coolly at Akari’s face in profile, Momo realized something.

“…This will be my first time killing an Otherworlder.”

Momo was an Executioner’s assistant.

She had slain no small amount of people.

But she had never actually executed an Otherworlder before. That was partially because there were so few of them to begin with, but it was also due to the fact that Menou didn’t want to let Momo harm “good, innocent people.”

So Momo had never killed anyone innocent of heresy.

Stepping onto the path of taboos meant deviating from morality, whether a lot or a little. A taboo was anything that required too many sacrifices, like Orwell’s experiments on countless citizens.

Otherworlders were different, however.

It was all too clear to Momo, even in this short period of time, that Akari was different.

Whether Momo liked her or not, Akari was objectively a good person.

“Did you say something, Momo?”

“I did not. It must be your rotten ears hearing things.”

“What do you mean, rotten?!”

Ignoring Akari, Momo sank into contemplation.

By now, Menou had likely finished saving money and would start her pursuit in earnest. They could only stay here for another three days or so. Once they ran out of criminals to fight, they would have to move on to the next place.

Pushing down the guilt that rose in her chest, Momo continued scheming to make Akari use up her memories.

Once they arrived at the inn, Sahara was left in a room with the luggage.

She was being literally treated like an object. Sahara fervently complained about Menou a hundred times in her mind, but there was no one to listen to her woes. After all, there was no need for Menou to walk around with the scripture that contained Sahara. She had the one Momo had left behind and naturally opted to use it instead of her own.

Thus, Sahara had been abandoned like unwanted refuse.

Menou had left to search for Momo and Akari, as planned. Ashuna, who came to the hotel with Menou, was gone, too. That, at least, was a profound relief.

At that moment, Menou and Ashuna were serious threats to Sahara.

Left alone, Sahara’s thoughts churned.

She had realized something at that rest area and wondered if it was worth informing Menou about her presence. However, Sahara abandoned that line of thought almost immediately.

Helping Menou in any way was meaningless. If she was in trouble, Sahara truly hoped it would be as difficult for her as possible. So long as Menou was keeping Sahara’s existence from Ashuna a secret, that would work out perfectly.

What was there for her to do now, though?

Sahara’s spirit drifted into deep consideration.

Existing within the scripture was a bizarre feeling. Despite the lack of a physical body, her consciousness remained, which should have been impossible. It was upon discovering that her mind was contained inside a scripture that she understood exactly what kind of Guiding vessel the scripture was.

Sahara was without her own form. In theory, that should have meant she no longer possessed the five senses and couldn’t get any information about the outside world. She could produce her own appearance with the scripture conjuring that made a Guiding Light projection, but that was just an illusion. It had no physicality with which to hear or speak.

That was the reason that a body, soul, and spirit were all considered necessary parts of the definition of life.

Scriptures possessed a function that collected data, enabling Sahara to do the same. Curiously, however, it wasn’t Sahara’s will that was collecting said information.

The scripture was a Guiding vessel that existed to collect knowledge about the world.

By taking over that scripture’s feature, Sahara learned about what was going on beyond her confines. In that sense, from the moment Sahara became part of the scripture, it lost its original function.

Everyone knew that a scripture was a complicated conjuring tool. At the same time, because it was so advanced, there was almost no one even in the church who understood all of its abilities.

Why did the scriptures exist? Why were they so specialized in gathering data that they could even preserve a soul and spirit?

Surely it wasn’t to create beings like Sahara. Only priestesses approved by the Faust were allowed to carry one. They had to hone their Guiding Force aptitude and diligently study conjurings before they were given a scripture with which to work for churches throughout the land.

What was the purpose of providing the priestesses scattered across the continent with items that automatically collected information?

Now that Sahara was in this state, she began to question things that had never occurred to her before.

Regrettably, there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it.

She seemed to be able to use some of the scripture’s conjurings, but that didn’t matter if she couldn’t move. She existed only to be shoved to the bottom of a bag and carried around where no one would see her. And once she was brought to the holy land, she would be taken away from Menou.

Sahara didn’t like this one bit.

The situation was far from optimal, and she couldn’t even labor to better it.

No matter what she might figure out, it would all end in vain. That was immensely frustrating.

She even contemplated using a conjuring to destroy the room at the inn. It wouldn’t really change anything, but it would at least be a good inconvenience.

As her thoughts strayed down a dangerous path, she heard the door to the room open.

Was Menou back? Sahara turned her attention toward the entrance and discovered that the guest was a young girl.

She appeared to be no more than ten years old and had probably entered the wrong room by mistake. Her footsteps were light and carefree as she strolled in.

The kid looked around slowly. Did she not realize yet that this wasn’t her room? She tottered over to the corner where the luggage was gathered, drawing closer to Sahara.

Why was she able to unlock the door and enter the room if it wasn’t hers? Sahara wondered if Ashuna had forgotten to lock the door, but the child was so young that she didn’t register as a threat.

The little girl picked up the scripture without hesitation, probably intending to play some kind of game. She must have realized that this wasn’t her room since the luggage wasn’t hers. Sahara thought the kid was very poorly behaved.

Even if it was just a child’s prank, though, being stolen away would be a problem for Sahara. If she used the image-conjuring feature of the scripture, she could at least pretend to be a ghost or something. Before she could enact the plan to scare off the intruder, the girl exclaimed something in pure glee.

“I found yooou. I knew I sensed the presence of
Vessel
somewhere, and I was right! Maybe I’m still good for something after all, huh?”

Sahara’s thoughts froze.

The child spoke of the Pure Concept of
Vessel
.

Sahara knew very well that
Vessel
referred to the Mechanical Society, one of the Four Major Human Errors. Anyone who knew that name couldn’t just be an ordinary child.

The unfamiliar child gave an innocent giggle. Her cherubic face possessed elegant features with black hair and black eyes. There were three round holes on the front of her simple white dress.

“That lady was so silly to leave something so wonderful just lying around. Mm, but I guess maybe she doesn’t quite know what you are, either. Even if scriptures are based on
Ivory
, the only concepts that can mess with the shape of a soul are
Vessel
and me, you know?”

The little girl was obviously aware of Sahara’s existence and speaking to her directly. Sahara didn’t respond, but the girl kept talking.

“I don’t know who you are, but hello, nice to meet you. You must have prayed to you-know-who, am I right? If you hadn’t, there’s no way you would have wound up in this weird state. I know scriptures exist to complement the spirit, but I can only think of one person who could seal a soul in there. It’s their fault you’ve ended up like this, too.”

In essence, the Mechanical Society that eroded away at Sahara really just made any wishes that were offered to it come true. It entered the body, then the soul, and finally the spirit, assimilating with the target while granting their wish.

When the girl accurately assessed her situation, Sahara finally resigned herself. She manipulated her Guiding Force to activate a scripture conjuring, and the Guiding Light formed an image.

“…Who are you?”

“Mm! What a surprise.”

Seeing the palm-sized Sahara, the girl exclaimed with all the delight of a child glimpsing a fairy in a dream. Her reaction seemed so deliberate that it irritated Sahara.

“Are you messing around or what?”

“Mm-mm, don’t get mad, okay? I don’t think it really matters who I am. If someone I don’t know was already aware of me, I’d be disappointed.”

“Disappointed…?”

“Mm-hmm! Because I’m really weak, you see. Compared to that
Vessel
person, I have to admit I’m a total weakling. But even so, I swear! I’ll prove I can make someone’s wish come true, too!”

Even as the girl clenched her fists and made a show of determination, her actions still seemed a little intentionally embellished. Based on her way of speaking, Sahara hazarded a guess at who the kid really was.

“Are you Pandæmonium?”

“Yep, that’s right!”

The girl promptly nodded at Sahara’s question. She was the worst and vilest of the Human Errors. The Master of all the evil and monsters in the world lifted the holy scripture with both hands.

“Now then, my dear little fairy friend.” Pandæmonium smiled earnestly at the bodiless Sahara and whispered, “Will you tell me what you want most of all?”

Sahara wanted to be somebody.

As her envy toward the rest of the world smoldered in her chest, the incarnation of Original Sin sparked the whole thing aflame.

As soon as she brought Ashuna to the inn, Menou promptly changed back into her priestess’s robes.

Ashuna wanted to try the hot spring right away. Menou declined her invitation to come along and set out into town to gather information in her search for Momo.

The first place she went was the station, the main entry point for the village.

When Menou and Ashuna had arrived, the former was still dressed as a butler and waiting on the princess, so she’d decided it would seem too suspicious if she tried to ask anyone for information right away.

People were far more likely to trust someone in a priestess’s attire.

That was especially true since the person she was searching for was clad in a white robe, the garb of an assistant priestess. Menou was wearing the indigo robes of an official priestess, making it easy for her to say she was looking for her subordinate without garnering any suspicion.

“Oh yes, I saw someone like that. She’s traveling with another girl, right? They got off at this station three days ago. I remember it well because they seemed so incredibly upset with each other.”

While asking around with employees, Menou hit upon an eyewitness on her second try.

Akari and Momo were bound to stand out unless they made a serious effort to hide. Momo could have at least changed her clothes, but she must have wanted to take advantage of people’s trust in priestesses, too. With that valuable information, Menou thanked the employee and started walking.

It was all but certain that Momo was somewhere in this town. She had to be operating under the assumption that her attempt to slow Menou down monetarily was a success. Judging by her lack of effort to cover her tracks or disguise herself, it was obvious that Momo’s guard was down.

“She’s much too careless…”

Perhaps Momo was due for reeducation on that front.

Still, this worked to Menou’s advantage. If she guessed their inn based on Momo’s budget, she might actually locate them quite quickly.

Menou stood in an empty area near the station, gathering her thoughts about where to go next when someone suddenly called out to her from behind.

“Pardon me, lovely lady, might I have a moment of your time?”

The voice was polite yet had a hint of teasing in the tone. Menou was confident she had heard it somewhere before, but she couldn’t immediately connect it to a face, a rarity for her.

Searching her memories as she turned around, Menou’s eyes fell on a kimono-clad young woman with luxurious deep-blue hair hanging in a thick braid over her shoulder.

“You’re…”

At Menou’s reaction, the girl unfolded her trademark iron fan and held it to her lips with a mischievous smile.

“…Manon.”

“Hello again, Ms. Menou.”

Manon Libelle was a girl who Menou had met in the port city of Libelle and later impaled with a blade.

The surprise only lasted for a moment. Then Menou shifted to wariness.

“Truly, I am so pleased to see you again. Yes, it is I, Manon, the negative form of evil.”

“…And what is that supposed to mean? That you’re the person who accompanies Pandæmonium?”

“Hee-hee. I’m quite fond of that introduction, actually.”

Menou was taken aback by Manon’s mysterious epithet and her friendly demeanor. The priestess readied herself to draw her dagger at a moment’s notice as she cautiously responded.

“It’s been a while. I heard you might have helped the Director escape from Grisarika, but it’s still disappointing to see that you really are still alive.”

“More or less. Technically, I died and was brought back to life, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I, Manon Libelle, have been revived from the depths of the underworld.”

Menou had also heard from Momo that Pandæmonium resurrected Manon as a demon.

The situation wasn’t all that different from Sahara’s. Manon’s physical body was dead, but her soul and spirit survived in another vessel.

Pandæmonium controlled the Pure Concept of
Evil
. It was the basis of all Original Sin Conjurings and could mold and break the body, spirit, and soul that made up life like so much clay.

“…It was Pandæmonium who brought you back, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Menou thought back to her encounter with Manon in Libelle. When Pandæmonium had appeared, Manon split apart from the inside and was torn open, clearly spelling the end of her life. On top of that, her body had been consumed by a monster afterward.

In retrospect, Pandæmonium must have done that to preserve Manon’s soul.

“Where is she now?”

“Who knows?”

Manon didn’t appear to be playing dumb. She slowly tapped a finger on her chin as if contemplating Pandæmonium’s whereabouts.

“I’m sure she’s out amusing herself. She is a willful little thing, and I do not wish to inhibit her, so I let her do as she pleases.”

“…I see. So what is it you want?”

Allowing Pandæmonium to run free was a terrifying concept.

Manon was now the very definition of a taboo. Surely she hadn’t shown herself in front of an Executioner like Menou just to make small talk.

“I’d especially like to know why you chose to make direct contact with me. I imagine it would be much more convenient for you if I thought you were dead… You must have an excellent reason for forfeiting that advantage, yes?”

“Nothing so specific. I didn’t like being left alone in a room with a freak, so I went outside and just happened to run into you by chance, that’s all.”

“By chance…?” Menou repeated.

“Yes. And I called out to you because I thought it would bother you more if I came to see you so directly.”

While watching Menou’s brow furrow, Manon put a sleeve to her mouth and chuckled lightly.

“I do so love how frank you are, Ms. Menou. You’re much too good a person to be an Executioner. That much is for certain.”

Manon claimed she had shown herself instead of sneaking around to keep her existence a secret purely to get under Menou’s skin. That assertive attitude, so at odds with her gentle appearance, was typical Manon. After all, she had offered her family and followers as sacrifices to Pandæmonium simply because she was in her “rebellious phase”—or so she’d claimed at the time.

“Besides, it seems that the Faust is already aware of my existence, so there would be no point in attempting to conceal it.”

“…Are you up to something in this town? This approach is quite different from your actions in Libelle.”

“Oh, no, we really did only stop here to rest. It appears there are a surprising number of unusual visitors right now, but that is truly just happenstance.”

While Menou still didn’t let down her guard, Manon continued to speak lightly.

“But since we’ve run into each other, could I ask you a little favor? You are aware that Ms. Momo is also here, right?”

“…Yes, I certainly am.”

Menou had come here to pursue Momo.

If Manon knew about that predicament, that meant she knew Akari was here, too. Depending on Manon’s goals, Momo’s separation from Menou might prove to be a fatal mistake.

It was even possible that the two had already fallen into Manon’s hands. Menou was so deeply suspicious that Manon’s next words caught her entirely by surprise.

“Ms. Momo has been bullying the Fourth members in this town. I don’t suppose you could stop her for me?”

“Excuse me?” Menou accidentally stammered. “Momo…bullying…? What do you mean?”

“You’ll have to find out the details for yourself.”

Since her imagination had been running in a dark direction, Menou was more confused than anything. Manon was really throwing everything on Menou, despite her calling it a little favor.

“I am not terribly interested in Ms. Momo myself, so I do not want to cause conflict. I doubt she would listen to anything I ask of her, but it is getting to the point where I cannot just stand by and let her carry on… But I doubt fighting her would be very exciting for me. Thus, I thought it might be best to leave it in your hands instead.”

“Wouldn’t most people prefer not to fight people they
are
interested in?”

“Do you think so? But don’t you want the person you like to spend time on you in some way?”

This was incredibly difficult logic to follow. Mentally groaning, Menou nevertheless continued the conversation in the hopes of gaining more information.

“Back to the matter at hand, the Faust hold poor influence in this region. As such, there are a fair amount of Fourth supporters here. They even use the area for the occasional meeting.”

“Are you giving me this information so I can weed them all out?”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter now, as they were already half wiped out by the time I arrived.” Manon shook her head. Judging by the context, Momo must have been responsible. “I thought the easiest way to tidy things up would be to have you get her under control, Ms. Menou. So I came to tell you about Ms. Momo in hopes that you might retrieve her right away.”

“…You aren’t going to save your Fourth comrades?”

“Oh, we are not allies by any means. I only wish for my own freedom. I have no interest in revolutionizing the caste system or anything like that. The Faust, the Noblesse, the Commons… With or without such divisions, there shall always be people like me.”

People like Manon.

The girl who had fallen into taboo and sacrificed all her blood relatives giggled lightly.

“If there is anything I do wish to devote myself to… Well, let me think. Were someone to seek a way to fundamentally solve the problem of lost ones, I would be happy to help them.”

She cast Menou a meaningful glance, as if she was hoping that Menou might do just such a thing.

Ignoring her nonsense, Menou shifted back to the main subject.

“One way or another, I will be collecting Momo, yes. But what I’m going to do about you is another story entirely.”

“In that case, I do have a suggestion.” While Menou shot her a hostile look, Manon only smiled back and clasped her hands together in apparent sincerity. “Won’t you join me, Ms. Menou? I would be delighted to have you.”

She made the invitation in the same natural tone as someone starting a casual chat.

For a moment, Menou was dumbstruck, trying to process what she’d just been asked.

“…Are you serious?”

“Very much so. Ms. Akari and Ms. Momo are welcome to join us, too. It would be my pleasure.”

Manon was serious. This made Menou wonder instead if the other girl was sane, but Manon looked wholly calm and intent.

It wasn’t a bluff. Manon was genuinely suggesting to Menou that they join forces.

After overcoming her doubt, Menou moved on to amazement.

“You’re asking me to join the Fourth?”

“Oh, no. The Fourth is an organization created by the Director, and it’s quite rotten by now. They are worth taking advantage of, but I see no significance to their activities. Evidently, the local members are mostly sex offenders anyway,” she replied, voice dropping to a whisper at the last part. “So no, don’t worry about the Fourth. I would like you to join me as a personal ally with a shared ideal; that is all.”

An individual associate.

If Manon wanted partners, that meant she must have a specific goal, not just committing crimes on impulse.

Menou had to find out more. With Pandæmonium on her side, Manon was not to be underestimated.

“Why would you invite me? I killed you in Libelle, as I recall.”

“I do not resent you for that in the least, Ms. Menou. You did thoroughly defeat me, but I still managed to accomplish my goal.”

This made sense.

Menou emerged victorious in the fight, but Manon had already succeeded in making herself a taboo.

Everything after the events in Libelle was nothing more than a diversion. Manon even went into her fight with Menou fully prepared to die.

Still, it was strange that she wouldn’t have a single ounce of resentment about being killed.

“Either way, I’ll have to decline. I am a priestess, remember.”

“Are you sure? I’m quite certain other wonderful allies are waiting for you, too.”

“Don’t be absurd. I’m an Executioner. I haven’t fallen so far as to get involved with taboos, and if I betrayed my position, I myself would be hunted down by the Faust. How could I possibly accept?”

If Manon genuinely was hoping to recruit Menou, she was giving a poor show of it. There was nothing to sway the priestess’s position.

Manon looked unruffled; perhaps she had been anticipating this response. She muttered “I see…” in faint disappointment, then carried on the conversation with her expression unchanged.

“She told you there’s a way, I hear.”

“Come again?”

“A way to kill Ms. Akari. I’m told she whispered to you that it’s the Sword of Salt.”

What was this girl getting at? Menou couldn’t help falling quiet, unsure where the sudden change in topic was leading.

Manon cut into the silence after a moment.

“Allow me to offer you a piece of advice as well.”

“Nothing you say could possibly—”

“There’s another way to prevent Otherworlders from going berserk.”

Menou’s mind went blank.

Her voice died out midsentence. She couldn’t even keep her expression from reacting.

“…You’re lying.”

When she finally choked out a short sentence, her voice was so fragile it didn’t sound like her own.

Manon gave an elegant titter. “I’m not. Think about it, Ms. Menou. A thousand years ago, Pure Concepts helped develop a civilization. Instead of eliminating them as we do now, our world accepted Otherworlders and walked with them side by side. It’s clear that ancient peoples didn’t climb to triumph by abusing the Otherworlders, either. Why else would our language have become so close to theirs?”

What did this mean?

“That could only happen if we interacted with them incredibly closely for a long time… Or it could even be that the Otherworlders were considered superior, or their words would never have taken over ours. So why were we able to do such a thing?”

Manon gazed directly into Menou’s eyes.

“It’s true, isn’t it? When Otherworlders use their Pure Concepts, they lose their memories. Eventually, they even forget their own names, and become monstrous slaves to their concepts. Such unstable beings could never become part of the ruling class. So why were the Otherworlders of those times so accepted that the language of this world became unified with Japanese?”

Menou could offer no objection. The theory made sense. There were no apparent holes in Manon’s assertions.

“Thus, there must have been a way. A system that prevented Otherworlders from losing control must have existed.”

“This is all just hypothetical. Even if it was true in that era, it’s meaningless if it’s gone now.”

“How can you be so sure that it is?”

“It’s obvious.”

Manon’s claim certainly didn’t inspire any hope in Menou, because even if her claim was true, Menou would still have to kill Akari.

If there was a way to let Otherworlders exist without killing them, the upper ranks of the Faust would have to know about it. Menou was a member of the Faust, an Executioner who hunted taboos. She had no right to rebel against the ironclad rules.

Even if there was a way to save her, Menou still had to kill Akari unless her orders changed.

It was her duty.

Akari wasn’t Menou’s first target. She had already murdered a considerable number of Otherworlders.

If a system like that was real, and the top brass of the Faust were hiding it…

Then what was the meaning of all the corpses that Menou had added to the heap over her life?

“Furthermore, I believe there is a way to travel from this world to that one.”

“That’s even more ridiculous. Even the ancient civilization has no records of an Otherworlder returning home.”

Manon brushed off Menou’s instinctive reaction.

“It’s not like you to let your emotions rule your responses, Ms. Menou. Do you know how conjurings came to be? Dig around the roots, and you’ll find out soon enough. And there is a meaning behind it. The system of our society permits the removal of outside enemies if it is deemed beneficial. For instance, let me see…” She gave an almost exaggerated smile. “If the Elders—the highest members of the Faust and its decision-making body—defined any intruders from another world as enemies, it would be considered just to destroy them.”

Menou forced her agitated feelings back to calm herself, then licked her dry lips. “Say whatever you like, but it’s all talk. I’d have to see evidence before I believe your theory.”

“That’s unsurprising. I’m about to start collecting the evidence, so I don’t have it just yet, but…think about it, Ms. Menou.” Manon smiled enchantingly. “Would there be any reason to protect them? Why would the powerful people who established our society’s system safeguard lost lambs with no connection to anyone and overwhelming power? Even if you kill an Otherworlder, they have no family in this world.”

Otherworlders were those with no place to go.

They possessed no family, no friends, no neighbors. Not a single familiar face in all the world. Since they wandered into this place alone, no one noticed when they disappeared.

That was why the violent method of having Executioners dispose of them was given a pass. Since even summoning them was a sin, the people who had done so would hold their tongues. And so the Faust continued slaying all the lost ones who came to this world with little resistance.

“Shall I give you a hint?”

“No, thank you.”

“Otherworlders expend their memories, their personalities—in other words, their souls. What if something existed that could preserve those things?”

“But there’s no such—,” Menou started to reply, but then a sudden realization cut her short.

There
was
an object capable of that feat.

Menou just so happened to possess an item that perfectly fit Manon’s description.

Something that retained memories and personality even with the physical body gone.

In other words, Sahara’s current state.

What if that was why the scriptures existed in the first place?

“Ms. Menou. Do you remember what I said to you in Libelle?”

“What…do you mean?”

“Children can’t help trying to live up to the expectations of the adults around them.”

Before Menou could regain control over her thoughts, her mind thrown into chaos by the theory that arose, Manon continued in a quiet, mature tone.

“I took the liberty of investigating your past a little… You met Flare after you lost your memories, yes? She’s the most successful taboo hunter in history, an Executioner and living legend. Perhaps you wanted to measure up to her example? It’s common for young children to want to imitate the lifestyle of the person closest to them.”

“She never…!” Menou’s tone came out sharper than she intended. Realizing this, she quickly lowered her voice.

“She never asked anything of me.”

“Regardless, that doesn’t mean she didn’t have an influence on you in some way.” Manon’s voice suggested she had gone through the exact same thing once. “A guardian has a profound effect on a child just by being around them.”

However, Menou’s childhood was nothing like Manon’s. The latter was the child of an Otherworlder and thus saddled with high expectations and treated as a disappointment when she failed to meet them.

And yet Manon seemed to empathize with the other young woman.

“Ms. Menou, I think it would be best if you learned your true identity.”

“My identity?”

“Yes. Your roots. That will help you find your path in life. The reason I am traveling with Pandæmonium is deeply connected to my own birth, too.”

Manon had the blood of an Otherworlder. The events she caused in Libelle and her motivation for releasing Pandæmonium were both tied to that fact.

“Allow me to ask you one more time, Ms. Menou…” Manon peered into Menou’s face. “If you knew there was a way to save her, would you still kill Ms. Akari?”

Menou struggled to answer right away. Her face was no longer that of a coolheaded Executioner, but of her true self.

The part of her that was faint and fragile, so unlike the sharp blade she had honed herself to be.

Manon’s eyes softened. Full of fondness for Menou’s inner weakness, she invited her again.

“Ms. Menou. Join forces with me, and we’ll find a way to save Ms. Akari together. You said it yourself, didn’t you? You claimed you’re a villain. That means you know it’s wrong to kill Ms. Akari.”

Manon held out her hand.

“Please, Ms. Menou.”

A silence settled over the pair for a few moments.

“…Manon.”

“Yes?”

Just as Manon responded to the quiet call, there was a flash.

“Do I…really seem that weak to you?”

It was a blade.

Menou closed the distance between them in an instant, drawing her dagger from her thigh and tackling the other girl.

As she drew breath, Menou invoked Guiding Enhancement. Her weapon closed toward Manon’s throat in the blink of an eye.

Still on the ground, Manon deflected the attack with a snap of her fan. At the same time, her shadow formed into a blade, which Menou evaded by jumping aside.

“Now that’s the Ms. Menou I know! You never hesitate, do you?”

“Why should I? If you are still alive after committing a taboo—I’ll just have to kill you again.”

Manon appeared strangely pleased about Menou’s attack. She stood up while Menou steadied herself and readied her iron fan.

Menou narrowed her eyes at the other girl’s posture.

“You’ve certainly changed, though. You’re much stronger now.”

“Oh, yes. The base parts for my new body were quite exceptional, so I’ve naturally become more skilled.”

Manon’s Guiding Force flowed through her feet and into the ground.

“Do you remember this?”

Guiding Force: Connect—Shadow, Pseudo-Concept [Null]—Invoke [Nullshadow]

Manon’s shadow pierced through Menou’s barrier.

“These were people you killed in Grisarika.”

Pseudo-Concepts.

These were conjurings received if one used material from a Pure Concept holder. The
Null
concept could only have come from the boy Menou killed in Grisarika Kingdom.

Menou immediately recognized the nature of the conjuring Manon had acquired, but still she didn’t falter.

“You really think you can defeat me with just that?”

A shadow containing the Pseudo-Concept of
Null
. Body movements that had become highly polished. Manon was certainly a more formidable opponent now.

Even that wouldn’t be enough to beat Menou in a one-on-one fight, however.

“Manon. You said you want me to become a personal ally. What do you seek that’s so different from the Fourth?”

“Ah yes, I suppose I hadn’t mentioned that yet.”

Their exchange continued even as they sought to kill each other. Manon was surprisingly quick to reply.

“I want to change the way that lost ones live. I am now the only person in the world who knows what that girl was like before she became Pandæmonium, after all.”

Her tone was heavy and profound.

What did that mean? Menou looked at Manon questioningly, but the girl merely covered her mouth with her fan.

“Hee-hee. Well, you know. At the moment, my primary goal is to try going to the other world.”

A method of going to another world, instead of summoning someone from there.

Menou, too, had once questioned whether such a thing existed.

“And you think that’s a way to solve the issue of lost ones?”

“I believe it might be one possible answer.”

“There is no method of traveling from this world to the other.”

Menou bluntly rejected this theory. She had asked, long ago, whether it could be done. And her Master had firmly told the young Menou that it could not.

Yet Manon smiled brightly as she continued to argue.

“Oh, but I have very reliable information. It’s based on what I’ve been told by Pandæmonium, the Director…and your Master, Flare.”

“…You met her?”

“I did, indeed. Not that long ago. Did you not hear about the town we destroyed recently?”

The idea that Manon had destroyed a settlement was not particularly shocking. She was traveling with Pandæmonium, even if it was just her pinky finger. Any defenseless village beset upon by the incarnation of Original Sin had little chance of surviving.

The problem was that she had met Master Flare there.

When faced with a taboo, Menou’s Master would invariably execute the perpetrator. However, if Manon was still alive, that meant she had become strong enough to successfully escape from Master Flare.

“She told me all kinds of interesting things. It was well worth the effort of crushing that town, if you ask me.”

“……”

Menou’s Guiding Enhancement suddenly cut off. Dropping such a necessary source of strength in the middle of battle was an unmistakably bad move. Sensing that the threat had lessened, Manon hesitated to react for just a moment in her confusion, and Menou used that opportunity to lunge at her.

Even without Guiding Enhancement, her trained movements were remarkably sharp. Manon’s shadow rose instinctively. Since it contained a portion of her spirit and soul as an extension of her body, her shadow had become a weapon that moved however the girl willed it.

The shade formed a swathe of ebon blades and attempted to block the dagger, but Menou had anticipated as much.

Scripture, 3:1—Invoke [And the oncoming enemy did hear the tolling of the bell.]

The ringing bell of “power” scattered Manon’s shadow.

Without anything left to bar her way, Menou swung down her dagger. Manon braced herself to block it with her fan. The priestess didn’t have Guiding Enhancement on her side, since she was prioritizing a surprise maneuver, leaving Manon confident that she could catch the attack.

She was wrong.

Guiding Force: Connect—Dagger Crest—Invoke [Gale]

Before the two armaments collided, a gust of wind erupted from Menou’s dagger and raced toward Manon, knocking her to the ground. Menou immediately took position above her and thrust the scripture toward her.

She was going to be killed.

But even in the moment of her certain victory, Menou never let her guard down.

All the while, she remained aware that Pandæmonium was nowhere to be seen. Even as she formed a scripture conjuring to finish off Manon, she watched her surroundings, ready for an interruption to appear at any time, from anywhere.

She was prepared to react the moment she detected a presence behind her.

Instead of being caught by surprise, Menou only felt vindicated. The Executioner jumped away from Manon at once and immediately turned to thrust her blade into—

“…Huh?”

Her weapon stopped short of Sahara, who was standing in front of Menou wearing a nun’s habit, something that should have been impossible. It was the real thing; Sahara had a proper body.

Menou couldn’t believe her eyes. Her blade trembled with shock at the unpredicted arrival.

How could Sahara be here, moving with a physical body?

“Well, that’s a fine way to say hello, Menou.”

While Menou couldn’t fully process her surprise, Sahara knocked her blade aside with her right arm, her eyes looking sleepy as usual. The impact knocked Menou off-balance, while Sahara clenched her metal hand with a clang.

“This is what you get for shoving me in the bottom of your bag.”

Sahara’s fist struck Menou squarely in the stomach.

Her right arm was a silvery Guiding prosthetic, just as it had been before she’d been sealed in the scripture. The attack from her metal arm was so unnatural that it seemed to move her body rather than the other way around, but it was still on par with a punch from Momo with Guiding Enhancement.

“Nngh…!”

Menou’s face contorted in pain. Maybe she shouldn’t have raised her leg to lessen the force of the blow. The unexpected power of the strike had sent Menou’s body flying into the air, unable to regain control immediately.

Why was Sahara here—and with a body of her own? Menou looked around in midair to try to gather information and spotted the cause immediately.

Pandæmonium was standing behind Sahara. Evidently noticing Menou’s gaze, she smiled brightly and waved.

Oh, great.

Menou grimaced as she theorized how Sahara had obtained a new body. It was the same method that had granted Manon one. No, perhaps the particulars of the technique were different. Either way, it was undoubtedly a similar approach.

Pandæmonium used an Original Sin Conjuring to give Sahara a physical form.

“You can have this back.”

Just before Menou landed, Sahara tossed over a scripture, the one her soul and spirit had been inside.

“I know I asked you to kill me before, but this time around…”

Guiding Force: Merge Materials—Prosthetic Arm, Inner Seal Conjuration—

Sahara’s artificial arm sparkled with Guiding Light. It concentrated around her fist, obeying the conjuring she was creating.

“I think I’d just like to see you try.”

Activate [Skill: Guiding Cannon]