"Sending him off like that, haa. Was that the right thing to do, fuh?"
"It was his decision—his choice. I want to respect that. …Though, I won't pretend I don't have some thoughts about him taking that hand and walking out."
In response to
They were still in the castle of dreams, and there was no change to the grassland or the blue sky. A cool breeze blew through, gently stroking the Witches' hair.
——The cracked world had swallowed Subaru and
Naturally so. The space was connected to Echidna's soul—a soul that could never be destroyed—and would maintain this state for as long as Echidna existed. The excessive theatrics had been nothing more than driving away the departing guest.
"Having said that, having you fling your healing around so recklessly does leave me feeling quite fatigued. It would help if you could exercise a bit more restraint in your medical endeavors."
"I'll follow my own style and heal every wound I can see. Humans, Witches, animals, birds, fish, insects, mabeasts—I make no distinctions. The wounds of any living thing are my enemy!"
"Even so, unlike when you were alive, the burden of your actions here falls on me. Back when you were living, you had the world shoulder it for you, so having all of that fall on me alone—even your imagination should recognize how taxing that is."
"I think fatigue and other invisible things are beside the point. I heal wounds. Whether the world's lifespan is shortened or not, that's not my concern."
With her arms crossed—emphasizing her generous chest—
The '
In truth, all she did was healing. The number of lives saved by her hand in the world of that era could not have been contained in five digits.
——However, Minerva had brought about indirect harm to an equal degree.
All destructive energy—punches, kicks, bites—was converted into healing energy when released from her hands. That formula was possible only because it was the Authority of 'Wrath,' and no one other than her could replicate it. Not even Echidna, who could understand its structure, could reproduce it.
Minerva's healing blows kept all living creatures away from threats to their lives. It seemed like an omnipotent Authority, but that was a mistake.
The healing power generated by her fists was the result of a powerful formula that twisted causality, and each activation consumed vast amounts of mana. Far more than a single human could supply—and even with the magical aptitude of a Witch like Minerva, it was an impossible amount.
So where did her blows draw their mana from? The answer was simple: it was ripped straight from the core of the world.
Normally, when a human used magic, they absorbed mana from the atmosphere through a gate, converted it into magical energy, and then expelled it again through the gate to cast the spell.
In Minerva's case, this gate was connected not to the atmosphere but directly to the world's nexus. The term "world's nexus" sounded complicated, but it was the place where supernatural mana aggregated—essentially, the source from which mana was born.
Minerva's blows extracted mana from there and converted it into healing strikes.
When this was repeated, it caused a phenomenon where mana could not reach the places it was supposed to be supplied to. The depletion of mana—a vital element composing the world—created an extremely dangerous possibility of natural disasters and cataclysms in the regions that went without it.
The number of people she had directly healed by punching exceeded five digits.
——But the number of people who had lost their lives due to the natural disasters she indirectly caused was equally staggering.
Therefore, the 'Witch of Wrath,' Minerva, was the most dangerously viewed among the Witches bearing the names of the great sins, and was treated as an enemy by every nation.
"Here, the only mana I can pull out is what Echidna has. So I can only heal and cure enough to keep you from drying out in the sun—which is why it's so frustrating."
"In the first place, there shouldn't even be any injured people here. It's been too noisy for too long—I'm starting to lose my bearings."
"…Yes. It has been rather noisy for some time now."
At Echidna's words, Minerva's先前 vigor deflated. An obvious look of dejection coloring her lovely face, the golden-haired Witch gazed up at the blue sky and said: "That kid—do you think he'll manage? I'm really, really worried."
"He refused my hand, even though he could surely have succeeded with it. No matter what, he'll be desperately trying to make things work. Though, it seems he hasn't found an answer yet."
"What's with that tone? You're the one who guided him into pushing you away, and now that we can see right through you, you're still trying to hide your true feelings? What's the point!"
"I wasn't trying to be refused, you know. ——Whether I was refused or accepted, it simply didn't matter either way."
At Minerva's puffed-up indignation, Echidna sat down at the reappeared table. She snapped her fingers, conjured a teacup, and tipped the steaming liquid into her mouth.
"I affirm choices, and I affirm the results of choices. I don't think the outcome matters much. The fact that one chose, or the fact that one didn't—either one is what matters. Whether the result is good or bad, I take pride in being the type who can enjoy either."
"But it's not like you have no preferences, right?"
Alongside Echidna, who brought the Dogu tea to her lips, a black-lacquered coffin slowly pulled up alongside. At some point,
"You say you respect the outcome, but Dona-Dona doesn't hesitate to nudge things toward the result she wants to see. 'It didn't matter either way' might be your honest feeling, but 'I'm glad it went this way' is honest too, isn't it?"
"You—the one who shows so little interest in others—yet always manage to strike at the heart of things. What a girl you are, Daphne."
"Well, compared to the constant hunger that plagues me day in and day out, figuring this out is hardly a challenge. Haa haa, fumu fumu."
Echidna sighed as Daphne, having moved past the snacks, began licking the plate clean. Then she looked toward the other Witches as they took their remaining seats.
Languidly, with undisguised irritation, timidly—and one with a particularly sharp, wary gaze.
"
"That's because Dona isn't honest. If you're not honest, that means you're a liar, right? Liars are sinful. Dona—are you sinful?"
"I have been acting honestly toward my own desires. I have no memory of lying, at least for now."
To Typhon's innocent, straight-edged manner of speaking, Echidna answered without equivocation.
She knew that her roundabout way of talking wouldn't work on the young Typhon. And she knew that if she offended her, the lives of everyone present would be in danger.
The judgment of sinners, the condemnation of the guilty—those were but a facet of Typhon's Authority of 'Pride.' But watching Typhon puff up in satisfaction at Echidna's carefully measured words, the next to speak in a low voice was the Witch buried in fur.
"Speaking while hiding your true feelings, haa. It doesn't become a lie—it's just pragmatism, isn't it, fuh?"
"Eh, Kidna-chan is really… such… a troublesome… girl, isn't she…"
"You all…"
Besieged by concentrated fire, Echidna grimaced. The Witches who saw it softened their expressions.
The only one who, upon witnessing the scene, narrowed her eyes with upturned corners was Minerva.
"Minerva, how long will you keep up the aloof act, haa? This was decided by all of us together. We all knew this would happen if the Sage candidate showed up… haa."
"Oh, shut it. I know that. I agreed to the discussion, fair and square. It's just that I'm not in a position to be as detached as you all. I want you to understand that, too."
"Being with Tyu-Tyu is all natural to Meta-Meta, so she doesn't get it. Everyone's spending way more of their lives on things other than eating to survive, aren't they?"
At Daphne's interjection, Minerva and Sekhmet both snorted in displeasure.
It was a tea party where the Witches maintained a certain balance among themselves, but they were originally a collection of strong-willed personalities. They often failed to see eye to eye, and heated arguments like this were nothing unusual.
Minerva, who would confront anyone, and Sekhmet, who disliked conflict, clashed frequently. Each time, Daphne—who could never read the room and always struck at the core—would cut in. And the argument would fizzle out into nothing, just as it always did.
Minerva would get angry, Sekhmet would humor her, Daphne would interject with her sharp observations,
That was something that had once existed four hundred years ago—days that would never come again.
Satella had gone mad from the Witch Factor. Minerva had been trapped in a scheme and driven to a mad death. Carmilla had been burned to nothing in a great fire. Daphne had withered and died in a sea of sand. Typhon had been swallowed by a great flood. Sekhmet had slain a dragon only to plunge into a great waterfall. And Echidna had collected only their souls, and by the same means, bound herself to the living world as a soul alone.
It was an imperfect recreation of those days—days that would never return.
"Kidna… chan… are you… sad? You are, aren't you?"
"Why would I be? I have no reason to be sad. You are all here, and I have my own opportunities to interact with the outside world. ——There's nothing I need."
"Is that… really… enough? We… are… only souls… so we're not really… ourselves, are we? We've… already… died. No one can truly be with Kidna-chan… forever… can they?"
At Carmilla's halting words, Echidna faltered for just a moment.
——It was Echidna's power that gave these beings—who had lost their bodies and become souls alone—a temporary physical form as mental constructs.
She had prepared vessels, and had their souls reside within.
But the souls were frozen at the moment of their deaths, and had undergone no change since. Was the Carmilla who now gazed upon Echidna truly the Carmilla of before?
Was it merely drawing reactions from the soul's pre-death memories and puppeting a body to perform them—a game of dolls, brought about by Echidna's own desires?
In truth, they shared Echidna's knowledge of the world.
How could one claim that their existence wasn't born from within Echidna herself? ——This was a conclusion she had reached long ago.
"Coming from you—the embodiment of self-love—to express concern for me, even as a friend, is quite rare. …Have you been influenced by his noise and kindness too?"
"…I… don't… know… Kidna-chan… is… stupid."
At Echidna's answer, which deflected and masked her true feelings, Carmilla said that with a look of disappointment.
At that response, Echidna couldn't help but laugh, a sound catching in her throat.
Through her reaction, she realized the Witches who hadn't been paying attention to her until now had shifted their gazes her way.
Bathed in their collective stare, Echidna spread both hands wide and declared: "Well then, for the time being, the tea party will once again belong only to the Witches. He—
"And that's fine with you? I don't care about whether you're lonely or not, but he said something at the end, didn't he? About compensation or whatever—you should be the one being loud about that."
"Compensation… ah, that too. A parting gift for him in the face of anticipated hardship—would you all laugh at me if I said that?"
Echidna rested her chin on her hand, pondering. The Witches exchanged glances.
Then they nodded and spoke in unison: "Not a chance."
"Heh—I'm more well-regarded than I thought."
"Because there's no way you'd help someone without getting paid."
Minerva declared with her arms crossed, and the Witches nodded in agreement.
At their synchronized response, Echidna closed her eyes, cleared her throat, and then spoke: "I came to realize that there are quite a number of matters I need to discuss with you all. Truly—I wonder what you all think of me."
"———"
"But, well."
Before the silent Witches, Echidna drained the contents of her cup, then licked her own lips with her red tongue in a sensual gesture.
"——Not a single thing was wrong with that, was it?"