Five minutes was surprisingly long.
It hadn't even been five minutes yet.
Purple hair and purple eyes — that's me now.
Juicy, with white hair, white wolf ears, and a white tail.
Even if someone calls it a makeover, I can honestly see why they'd say that.
Still, Agaro's very first words being "A makeover, huh?" made me laugh despite myself.
He seems to have forgotten who underwent the biggest makeover of all.
Also, there's something I need to ask about.
"Naaaaah."
But before that, the exhausted Dagaa limply reverted to its original form.
So I hand it over to Juicy.
"Um, um, uh, Dagaa-chan. Are you okay?"
"It's fine. It looks tired, so just keep holding it like that."
"Um, um, woof. Okay. Leave it to me."
This was perfect for getting Juicy to stop with the excessive physical contact.
I feel bad using Dagaa like this.
Later — well, once we're outside, I'll make sure to feed it plenty.
"Ah... well, y'know..."
As he spoke, Agaro pulled out his gourd and brought it to his lips.
For this guy, booze really is the best medicine of them all.
It was hannya-to, right? Apparently it's some blessed remedy. I'll pass, personally.
"Um, um, uh, Agaro. Is that Amalthea?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"Um, um, that's something you're not supposed to drink, right? I know that."
"Well, yeah."
Possession was prohibited, too. I gave him a flat look.
"Are you really okay drinking that?"
"Getting a hangover-level headache from that stuff really blows."
Agaro answered, half-joking.
I made sure to drive the point home.
"I watched with my own eyes what happened to Fawn after she drank that stuff before."
"Is that so. She died, huh."
"Yes. She died."
Strictly speaking, I was the one who put her out of her misery before things got too far.
Agaro raised the gourd-jug to his lips.
"Pah! Well, that stuff's my trump card. Same goes for you lot, right?"
"That's true."
"Um, um, Wof. W-Wof. This [Fenrir] is my trump card."
"...Y-Yeah. Right. Well, that's why — let's just agree that nobody saw anything here, okay?"
I figured that would happen.
On that, I agree. Jusie nods.
"—Got it. I didn't see anything."
"—M-Me neither."
"—Good. The Witch too — the Witch?"
That's when we noticed. The Witch was gone.
I quickly looked toward the church. Probably. She must have gone there.
"—She snuck off ahead of us. That's the Witch for you."
Agaro grumbles. She probably woke up while we were fighting and left.
Or maybe she wasn't unconscious from the start. With the Witch, that's entirely possible.
"—Um, um, let's chase after her!"
Jusie had already returned to normal. I needed a bit more time.
Well, or I could just undo it. I revert from Generous.
The gauntlets also switched back from Tranquil God Gauntlets to Tranquil Saint Gauntlets.
Then we crossed the bridge and headed for the church on top of the hill. It wasn't far.
Agaro says between swigs.
"—That's weird. The dungeon still hasn't been unlocked."
"—It hasn't?"
"—The dungeon's collapse hasn't even started."
"—Um, um, once the dungeon is unlocked, what happens to us?"
Come to think of it, she had a point.
Getting back on our own before the collapse started was probably impossible.
"Yeah. No problem. After the collapse begins, teleportation circles will show up around the area. Step into one and you're back on the surface. There's some reasoning behind it, but I don't remember the details."
"The collapse hasn't started yet, though. Even though we defeated Hargan?"
"The answer's probably in there, I'd guess."
And so we arrived at the church. I pushed the door open.
Wooden pews lined up at regular intervals, and beautiful stained glass decorated both ends.
The layout and arrangement were just like a chapel in a church on the surface.
The ones up there were covered in dust, rusted, and filthy, but this place was brand-new, just as the exterior suggested.
Not a speck of dust. Unnaturally so.
Well, being the deepest level of the dungeon, I suppose that was only natural.
At the far end stood a red altar, and the witch was there.
Beyond the altar, a statue of the Holy Mother Goddess was enshrined... Wait, something was off.
"Well, well, look who's here. Welcome, welcome."
The witch sat perched on the red altar with her legs crossed, delivering that line with a grin like some kind of final boss.
She'd been toying with a cup. It was pure white with a gold rim, and looked expensive.
Though, there was something familiar about it.
Agaro tilted his gourd and spoke.
"You're not secretly the one behind all this, are you?"
"U-Um, is the witch our enemy?!"
"No way... the witch?"
We took a step back, and the witch panicked.
"No, no, no—there's no way that's the case, you know? Sure, I jumped the gun, but there was a reason for it, you know?"
"Witch. That chalice?"
"Ah, yes, yes, I know. It looks expensive. Is it treasure?"
"Mm-hmm. In a sense, you could say that, you know?"
"More importantly, the Tomb of Death is collapsing! What's going on with that?"
"Oh dear, oh dear—it's because Hargan hasn't been completely defeated yet, you know?"
She said it like it was no big deal.
"Huh? But we did defeat him! This time we destroyed the core!"
"Ah, yes, yes—you definitely shot it apart and shattered it."
"But even so, even so, he hasn't been completely beaten, you know?"
"So does that mean he'll revive again?"
"That's right, that's right. It won't be right away, but I think he's still regenerating even now, you know?"
"You've gotta be kidding me. How the heck are we supposed to take him down?"
Even after destroying the core, it regenerates—that shouldn't mean he's truly immortal.
The witch deftly spun the chalice in one hand.
"Oh, that part's easy, you know? All you have to do is destroy this chalice, you know?"
"Ah—wait, that means..."
I remembered. It looked just like the chalice from that ruined village.
"Um, um, Witch. What do you mean?"
"Mm-hm. It's the very same defensive mechanism that old Abramilin used. The souls of the victims in this tomb of death were gathered into this chalice and supplied as energy to Hargan. That's how Hargan became pseudo-immortal, you see."
"But I don't hear anything at all."
The screams and curses had been overlapping, sounding like the notes of a flute.
"Oh my, oh my. Actually, you could hear them until just a while ago. It's probably empty now. Here, look."
The Witch showed me the inside of the chalice. Sure enough, it was empty.
"Then why not just destroy it already?"
"Um, um, Witch. *Woof.* Was there something holding you back?"
"Mm-hm, mm-hm. At first I noticed the mechanism and tried to destroy it, but I'm curious — how did young Wof break it?"
"I didn't break it. I purified it."
"Oh. That story was real after all. Well, with that power, I suppose it's only natural."
"Um, um, *woof.* *Woof-woof!* As expected, Wof, you're amazing! Wonderful!"
"No, I'm really not."
At that time, I had lost.
No — it was from fighting Hargan that I understood.
It was beyond winning or losing.
The Black Knight — Arthur — hadn't been fighting me seriously.
I don't know why. But maybe he wanted to be freed.
Because I heard words of gratitude.
"Mm-hm, mm-hm. Purification, I see."
The Witch pulled a small bottle from—why from her chest, of all places?
She stood up, set the cup on the altar, and dripped the contents of the small bottle into it.
A viscous, glittering liquid flowed into the cup.
That's an elixir, isn't it.
I only gave her one small bottle, and she used it on Hargan already.
Why is there a second one?
Well, she's a witch, so I guess it's fine.
The cup filled with elixir dissolved into shimmering particles of light and vanished.
"Um, um, that, that's so beautiful!"
"It really is."
"It'd make a good drink accompaniment."
Not that they need one—they drink regardless.
Right after that, a rumbling shook the ground. The proof that Hargan had been completely defeated.
"Now the Tomb of Death is finally released too. Rest in peace."
The witch whispered softly. Like a prayer.
I pray too. Juicy-san is observing a moment of silence.
I hope that light means a peaceful afterlife.
"Um, um, that, Ms. Witch. Are there any treasures in here or anything?"
Once the silence ended, Juicy-san asked.
She's a baron's daughter, but she loves treasure. Is it because she's a dog?
"Ah, looks like there might be something in here."
"Witch. Did you find something?"
"Yep, yep. The storeroom at the entrance to death had all sorts of things in it. Still got time, so if you want to dig around, now's the chance."
"Juicy-san. Let's go check it out."
"Um, um, woof! Yes. Sir Wof!"
When we entered the storeroom, there were shelves lined with all manner of things.
Sacks of grain were stacked up too. Huh. Just a normal storeroom.
The dungeon's buildings must just be copies of real ones, so they're the same.
But we're at the deepest part of the Dungeon of Death... is this really enough?
Juicy-san looked around. She seemed a bit confused. Yeah, that tracks.
I took a quick look at the shelves myself.
Nothing particularly out of the place. Just junk.
I'd been half-hoping there might be a knife or something, and — yep, there was. One sitting right there, plain as day.
In the corner of the shelf, a short bladed weapon. A knife.
A rounded wooden handle. No sword guard. Drawing it revealed a single-edged blade.
The hamon was rough, undulating in coarse waves.
"..."
Didn't look expensive or anything special. Just a regular knife.
It was probably just a regular knife.
"Um, um, um, Sir Wof. Is that what you want?"
"Thought I might as well take it, you know."
It looked like nothing more than a perfectly ordinary storage closet.
So just walking out with it without saying anything felt a lot like stealing.
"Um, um, um, I think that's fine! It'll be a memento!"
"Then I'll take it with me."
A memento, huh. I pocketed the knife.
And just like that, the Tomb of the Dead dungeon was freed, and that forest finally became just a forest again.
I was tired.
Several days later. The slum district of Hydrangea.
Midway down an alley. Near the right side.
There was, suddenly, a set of stairs leading underground, gaping open.
I went down those stairs, turned a corner, and found a door with a red semicircular arch.
When I opened the door, the space inside looked like a concert hall.
Even at a casual glance, there were dozens upon dozens of bookshelves lined up.
Every bookshelf was packed neatly with books, not a single gap between them.
And it wasn't just the bookshelves. The furnishings around them were equally magnificent.
"If you're going to come, at least give me advance notice beforehand."
A fair-skinned man with gray hair and a gentle face smiled wryly.
He wore glasses, and tucked under one arm was a stack of books.
A white shirt and black trousers. A perfectly ordinary outfit.
But those eyes were purple.
The purple gaze fixed on him with a somewhat troubled look.
Between bookshelves, a white table and chairs had been set out.
Their presence here was far too sudden and unnatural.
Seated at the table was a girl who was entirely white.
The round hat adorned with a white rose, her long hair, eyes, skin, cape, and dress — everything was pure white.
The girl moved her snow-white lips ever so slightly.
"The darkness of death. The wind of death has vanished."
"I'd like you to call me Ambrosius. Ambrosius Melnuris — the light of death."
"I am Shiro. Shiro, White, Weiß, Blanc, Album, Sephid."
"..."
"..."
The king who ruled the light of death and the king who ruled the darkness of death fell silent for a time.
The first to speak was the king of death's darkness — Ambrosius.
"As long as ever, Shiro. The wind of death — that was Hargan, wasn't it? Coming back to life only to vanish in a few days... how pathetic, truly. Either way, he couldn't have accomplished much. He was never fit to be a king. A village chief at best. A petty, thoroughly foolish man."
"I'm aware."
"The one who made that man the wind of death was, truth be told, yours truly. I made him the wind of death just as he wished. He used a large-scale subjugation to offer up his own villagers and family as sacrifices. Utterly foolish and revolting, wouldn't you say?"
"Indeed."
"And after that, he was sealed away by something called a defense mechanism by the Abramirin crowd, unable to do anything. Then just recently, when I thought he'd revived — poof, gone again. He really was like the wind."
"...Yes."
Ambrosius's irony left Shiro entirely unmoved.
She raised the pure white teacup to her lips.
Inside was milk.
"Shiro, did you really come all the way to Hydrangea just to tell me something that trivial?"
"Yes, that's right. Sharing information about the King of Death is my job."
"Oh, now that you mention it, that's true. You've worked hard."
"Don't mention it. Though my real business is something else entirely."
"Huh, I'm not interested, so suit yourself."
"Ambrosius. I'm going to buy a book."
"You, buying a book? What kind of book are you planning to get?"
"A romance novel."
"............You?"
"Do you have something to say?"
"Well, sure, but do you have any requests? I have a decent selection of romance."
"If I had to specify, I suppose something pure love."
"................You?"
"Is there something you want to say?"
"No, well, there are several, so just pick one."
"Mm. I'll do that."
Shiro nodded curtly and drained the milk from her white teacup.
----------------
Ambrosius is the third search item from his first appearance in Season 1.