Epilogue

Epilogue

She floated in a sea of flesh and blood, surrounded by fog so thick she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

The beast she’d taken a liking to and stood upon for the past several hundred years was gone. So now the monster in the form of a little girl floated on her back in the bloodied ocean.

She had been so close. Freedom had been a push away. She’d even managed to set foot on land. She’d dyed the seas with blood and blotted out the sky with monsters.

“Now my fun is ruined.”

Her cold voice was drowned out by the sounds of monsters devouring each other.

She was trapped in the vast expanse of fog that covered the entire territory once known as the Southern Archipelago Alliance. The severed part of herself she’d managed to squeeze through the mist had cut off contact.

If the rest of her was set loose in the world, she wouldn’t care much for one pinky finger. However, it was presently the only free portion of her.

“I don’t like it. Not one bit. It’s silly for me to have a goal , don’t you think?”

“Absolutely!” a voice agreed.

It was another little girl, identical in every way. If you ignored everything around them, the scene may have appeared to be a conversation between twins. The only difference was that the first speaker was missing fingers. She’d used her digits to create finger puppet clones.

“Let’s chase her.”

“Let’s catch her.”

“Let’s corner her.”

Her ring finger, middle finger, index finger, and thumb were all missing, as was her pinky. The first four spoke while floating on the surface of the bloodied sea, slowly being crushed and sinking under the weight of the fog. It was far too harsh an environment for mere finger puppets to survive in for long.

It looked like a bizarre game being played alone. There was no point in conversing while trapped in the monster-caging mist. Once all the puppets were crushed, they returned to being her fingers.

They were all in agreement by nature. In fact, the others had no opinions of their own, since they were only duplicates under the original’s control.

The only exception was the pinky.

Pandemonium peered at the faint cracks in the fog. While the gaps in the impenetrable barrier were widening, the fog still wrapped around her person, preventing her escape. It seemed like it might evaporate with one last push, but she had no way of making that happen.

“Not quite yet.”

The thousand-year-old mist still refused to clear. Pandemonium’s hundreds upon thousands upon millions of monsters would keep consuming each other. A single pinky finger wouldn’t stop her reign merely by regaining sanity.

The girl who was now a manifestation of a concept knew very well that there was no such thing as eternity.

“I wonder how much longer Ivory will endure.”

The fog was bound to disperse one day. Pandemonium was certain.

The lord of chaos and evil smiled cherubically as she pictured freedom.

The white sun that glowed over the artificial world was about to drop beneath the horizon.

This world, trapped for so long in a time without day or night, was entering evening for the first time ever.

However, the white sun managed to hold out just before it set.

Mindless conjured entities repeated their set routines in the world constructed of Primary Color concepts. While the Mechanical Society ran smoothly for the most part, the few exceptions were gathering at its heart.

“Gimme a break. Even if the damn sun does set, there ain’t a thing to be gained by dealing with the outside world. The answer’s obvious if ya ask me.”

One of these exceptions, a wolf, loped on four legs toward the central area.

Though its blue fur was beautiful, it was no living thing. It made no effort to hide its body’s stiffness. This was a conjured soldier. And yet it was not bound by the Primary Color concepts that controlled its constructed place.

It was a crystal life-form that had surpassed mimicry and imitation, gaining a self all its own—a conjured soldier formed of all three primary colors.

The other especially high-level conjured soldiers within the Mechanical Society were also gathering in the school building at its center. It was a meeting of the admins of each zone to determine the course the Mechanical Society would take going forward.

As far as the wolf was concerned, it was utterly depressing.

The sentient conjured soldiers didn’t get along. They all came from the same Vessel , yet their personalities varied depending on the balance of the three colors. This deviation was such that each of the thirteen divided zones developed its own unique culture and philosophy.

“For one thing, our great parent is basically a machine that spends all its time muttering curses. And I’m on the outs with the other admins as it is. Surely, communicating with humans will be even more difficult. If the world that’s been closed off since our birth opens, it’ll cause problems. That’s the whole point behind the new world project… Buuut it ain’t gonna be easy to get everyone on board. What’re we gonna do?”

The blue wolf looked over his shoulder for affirmation.

His companion was usually unbelievably annoying, which made the silence peculiar. The wolf was concerned that the conversation might have even been too much of a mental strain and set off a bug in his companion’s thought circuits.

However, the fellow conjured soldier he was looking for was nowhere to be seen.

In its place was a box-shaped voice recording Guiding vessel that had clearly been fashioned on the spot.

“I’m worried about the child who was born outside. Now, I know I’m everyone’s big sister, but starting today, I’ll be the big sister for the child born outside for a while, okay? Remember, it’s your job to turn our older siblings gathering in zone one into scrap, sooo do your best!”

The mindless conjuring tool repeated words given to it. The wolf shook with rage over the other’s escape.

“Stupid sister…! You’re just gonna leave me with all the damn work?!”

The giant wolf’s howl echoed across the artificial world.

The first thing she did upon receiving her new priestess robes was cut them up.

The design was too stuffy for Momo’s standards. The skirt was especially egregious. Since the garment was designed for desk work, it wasn’t easy to move in. Fortunately, a certain amount of modification was permitted, so Momo got to work with her scissors, mercilessly cutting and fixing frays, then sewing the extra fabric back onto the hem to create frills.

She’d already modified priestess robes once before, the white ones she’d received upon becoming Menou’s aide. Now that she understood how to alter the outfit without affecting the barrier crest, she could work without hesitation.

Once finished, Momo donned the priestess robes and stood before a mirror.

As she twirled to check for any areas that didn’t look right, there was a knock at the door.

“Come iiin.”

“Thank yooou! Wait, hmm?” Hooseyard entered, clapping her hands when she saw Momo.

“Oh, my! You look adorable, Miss Momo.” After she gave this instinctive compliment, her expression turned pensive. “Although, I’m not sure about modifying something right after it was given to you. They’re probably not going to be very happy, you know…”

“I couldn’t care less how those bigwigs feel. As far as I’m concerned, cuteness is the most vital feature of any article of clothing,” Momo replied, brushing off the warning.

Hooseyard winced, but she returned to praising Momo’s new attire.

“The white looked lovely on you, but indigo might be even better. Once again, Miss Momo, congratulations on officially becoming a priestess!”

“Yeah. Thanks sooo much.”

A month had passed since the chaos in the holy land. Momo was now officially recognized as a priestess.

After the incident, Momo was casually interviewed and quickly released. Hooseyard’s insistence that Momo was innocent may have helped, but in truth, the girl was never suspected of anything because there was no official record that she’d ever been Menou’s aide.

On paper, Momo’s history was that she’d earned her white robes, gone on a pilgrimage, returned to the holy land where her talents were discovered by Elcami, and worked as Hooseyard’s assistant. That was all.

Executioners were the Faust’s dark secret. Accounts of their work weren’t open to most.

Of course, there were records at the monastery, those that Master Flare had managed, but Menou already burned those. Although the assumption was that she’d done so to erase evidence of her own activities, the real purpose was to obfuscate Momo’s doings.

Momo, once an aide to an Executioner, now had a clean slate. To be approved as a fully fledged priestess, she’d finally studied the scripture conjurings she’d largely ignored for so long. A month later, she was worthy of wearing the indigo robes.

When Menou was put on the wanted list, Momo decided to remain within the Faust. Helping Menou would be easier with an inside connection. Without Menou, Momo had no use for the aide position, so she ascended to a rank with more freedom.

She’d also done this to help meet Menou’s second favor.

“You’ve been preparing for a little while now… Are you really returning to the life of a pilgrimage priestess, Miss Momo?”

“…Yes, I am. Archbishop Elcami picked me out, but she isn’t here anymore.”

Elcami was missing, which happened to suit Momo quite nicely. There was still a stir in the holy land about who could have done something to such an incredible conjuring master.

“I see… Ah, so you’re using what I made for you to pack your things?”

“Well, yeah. That’s why I had you prepare it.”

“Ah-ha-ha…”

After Momo decided to leave the holy land, she’d pressured Hooseyard—an expert Guiding vessel engineer—to build a suitcase to carry her luggage. The wheeled carrying case came to Momo’s waist and was sturdy enough to be combined with Momo’s go-to weapon, a coping saw, in interesting ways.

“But whyever did you want materials that block Guiding Force for the carrying case?”

Plenty of priestesses added crests to their traveling items, but requesting Guiding Force-inhibiting materials for the exterior was unusual. Hooseyard could provide this, of course, since she’d learned of substances that blocked Guiding Force when fiddling with the earthen vein’s flow, yet it was still an odd ask. An ordinary engineer would have been incapable of meeting the demand.

Momo responded quite casually. “Because I found out that some people can snoop with Guiding Force, like you.”

“Oh dear. E-er, incidentally, I’m being transferred to a different post. So this is where we part ways, Miss Momo.”

“Hmmm? I didn’t ask, and I don’t care.”

With the Dragon Gate destroyed, Hooseyard had lost her role in the holy land. Evidently, her nebulous position had solidified into something new during the recovery efforts.

“Well, good-bye, then. I’ll never forgive you for locking me up.”

“Ah-ha-ha… Wait, why do you look so serious?”

Hooseyard saw Momo off. The former aide passed from the holy land’s white streets to the open road.

After walking for a while, Momo abruptly stopped short. She was standing before the tree she’d hidden in to ambush Ashuna. Although not particularly tired, Momo sat on her pure-white carrying case for a break.

She recalled something Menou had mentioned on the night she’d elected to change her life.

“Listen, Momo. Why do you think we can kill Otherworlders on sight with no questions asked?”

“Because they’re dangerous, riiight? Otherworlders are a threat to the world. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with eliminating a risk before something bad happens, you knooow?”

Menou shook her head at Momo’s response.

“It’s because they have no family in this world.”

Menou explained what she saw as the apparent reason Otherworlders were treated as though they had no human rights.

“When a ‘lost one’ arrives here, they have no connections with anyone, so there’s nobody to go looking for them if they’re killed. No one will mourn their death. Don’t you see? Lost ones are the weakest of all.”

Menou had committed a grave sin: murdering countless Otherworlders right after they came to this world.

Menou was the perpetrator, and they were her victims.

“I get that, buuut…why are you telling me this, darliiing?”

“Because you haven’t killed any of them yet.”

When Momo received her white robes, she immediately rushed to Menou’s side to be her aide. She only became a priestess to help her darling.

And while Menou entrusted Momo with many jobs, she never asked nor allowed her to kill an Otherworlder.

“You haven’t caused harm to any Otherworlders. They have no reason to judge you.”

“But…” Momo had protested. Her hands were still hardly clean. She’d spread her white-gloved fingers and tried to share in Menou’s burden.

Momo had killed more than clear-cut evildoers like monsters and terrorists. Knights in battle who were only doing their duty or following orders had fallen to her, and she’d interrogated relatively harmless hoodlums to the point of torture.

“They’re completely different from Otherworlders.”

Still, Menou wouldn’t let Momo share the blame.

“The next time a ‘lost one’ who’s done no wrong appears, you’re the only one who can take their hand and lead the way, Momo.”

Menou was entrusting Momo with a path she’d given up on being able to follow.

Momo couldn’t make sense of it. Menou was the only thing that mattered to her. Even if it was a request from her beloved darling, there was no point in doing something that didn’t benefit Menou directly.

But she accepted it regardless, for Menou’s sake.

Once she confirmed that no one else was around, Momo lightly kicked the box she was sitting on.

“…It’s so quiet. I can hardly believe I’m traveling with you .”

The words were meant for the person in the case—a still-frozen Akari. Over the last month, the Lord that Menou had told Momo of hadn’t made any obvious moves. Menou had to tell Momo where Akari’s body was stored, and the former aide swapped her luggage right before leaving the holy land.

“I’ll protect whoever I must if it’s a favor for my darling.”

To fulfill her beloved darling’s request, and to change the world…

…Momo began her own journey.

Hooseyard yawned after seeing Momo off.

Her post was changing today. Apparently, she’d be informed of the details in a room she’d been instructed to visit. All Hooseyard knew besides that was that a young priestess would be assigned along with her.

This time, her new colleague would be a white-robed priestess in her late teens, making her a little older than Momo.

“Well, despite everything, I did manage to get along with Miss Momo… I wonder how things will go with this new girl.”

Feeling eager and anxious, Hooseyard headed for the appointed location.

Honestly, a holy land without the Dragon Gate held little appeal for Hooseyard. She was tempted to resign and become a pilgrimage priestess like Momo, taking another trip around the world, were it not for one problem.

“If I leave the broken station in that state, Archbishop Elcami will be furious…”

Fear of her superior kept Hooseyard rooted in the holy land.

The archbishop’s whereabouts were unknown, and there were rumors in the Faust that she’d died. However, Hooseyard trusted that Elcami was alive.

She couldn’t imagine such perfect power disappearing from this world.

As she entered the meeting room, Hooseyard gloomily reflected on the prospect of being scolded once Elcami returned.

“Hellooo, nice to…meet you?”

A brown-haired girl who appeared to be in her teens stood waiting.

Her facial features gave an impression of elegance and strength. It was clear from her sharp eyes and stern expression that she had a fastidious personality. She appeared very serious, to the point that she radiated a strict air about her. Though she was a proper beauty, her uncompromising attitude also seemed like an effort to hide some inner fragility, making for an unbalanced impression.

Something about her struck Hooseyard as familiar.

Instinctively, she invoked the crest conjuring carved into her glasses.

Guiding Force: Connect—Crest, Glasses—Invoke [Guiding Force Vision]

The power she glimpsed through her lenses was nothing short of miraculous.

Hooseyard recognized the practically perfect flow of Guiding Force that seemed almost inhuman.

“Errr… Are you related to Archbishop Elcami by any chance?”

She blurted out the question without even introducing herself, and the girl scowled. Even that mannerism resembled the archbishop.

“Elcami… An anagram of Michael, more or less. I see. It’s just as Lady Hakua said…”

“Ahh, so you do know her?”

“Silence. You would know if I have kin in the Faust? Don’t ask me such foolish questions. It’s most unpleasant.”

“Ah, um, err… Heh-heh-heh. I’m sorry.”

Such forceful words. Hooseyard was meant to be her senior, yet she put on an awkward smile and apologized, cowed by the younger girl’s intensity.

To prevent any nepotism or other negative practices, the Faust exclusively took in young orphaned girls with conjuring aptitude. Asking someone like that about their family origins could easily be considered insensitive.

Still, she didn’t need to get that angry… Hooseyard hunched her shoulders even as she stole glances at the girl’s Guiding Force.

Was she truly not Elcami? A second examination confirmed that although there were physical differences between the young girl and the elderly woman, their Guiding Force currents were identical. The pair were too far apart in age to be the same person, yet judging by power, they had to be. Hooseyard’s confusion deepened.

“I became a priestess to serve the hero of… That is, the Lord. I intend to raise my rank and be of use immediately, that I might serve closer to the Lord’s side.”

“My, you’re very passionate.”

“But of course. I owe the Lord a great debt. I know not your standing, but you had best avoid slowing me down.”

“A debt?”

Hooseyard tilted her head; the girl spoke as though she’d met the Lord directly. It was said that the Lord written of in the scriptures was a real person, but they would have lived a thousand years ago.

“It’s nothing. Forget what you heard.”

“R-really? So, then, um…”

“You may call me…Michele, perhaps.”

“All right, Michele it is. So, where are we being assigned?”

“You don’t even know that much?”

The girl who called herself Michele sniffed dismissively.

Hooseyard felt like she was being looked down upon, but knew that her presence was far from intimidating. Plus, this newcomer’s attitude was easy to accept and ignore after Momo’s treatment.

“We are to be the hands that serve justice under the name of the laws set by the Lord… Inquisitors.”

Hooseyard had been assigned to a post she had absolutely no interest in, working with an incredibly serious and motivated junior who was exactly like her previous boss.

Silently, Hooseyard lamented the utterly mismatched nature of her new situation.

Meanwhile, in the northern part of the continent…

A chilling wind blew, despite it not being the season for snow. The half-year-long winter was creeping closer.

In one town that managed to survive the repeated harsh winters, there stood a hidden but functional conjuring workshop.

Guiding vessels, tools that used Guiding Force to operate, were in high demand. While the Faust heavily restricted any crest tools that could be used as weapons, plenty of Guiding vessels were employed in life. These could be activated with an on-off switch, and thus didn’t require any talent for Guiding Force manipulation.

These mundane Guiding vessels for lighting, cooking, and water supply equipment required maintenance that could only be done by artisans with extensive conjuring knowledge. Such people were known to earn high incomes.

And while few knew it, these crafters were often urgently sought by those running from the Faust and Noblesse.

Of course, the majority of reputable artisans would never work with a guilty party. There was plenty of work to be had from the many citizens of the Commons without crossing that dangerous line.

But there were a select few who offered services to shadier clientele.

Some did it for money, while others did it to rebel against the Noblesse and the Faust. A few desired knowledge and techniques beyond what the Commons could acquire otherwise and strayed into the realm of taboo.

Officially, this workshop sold Guiding Force lighters and the like. From the shadows, however, it performed crest adjustments for suspicious individuals.

A girl visited this workshop that regularly served those who needed to avoid the knights’ law enforcement and the priestesses’ technological restrictions, often for nefarious ends.

There was nothing notable about her looks or clothing. A glance imparted that she was a female adventurer, but close inspection would probably uncover a blade-like sharpness to her. The lightest touch might leave someone in ribbons.

A few days earlier, she had brought a pair of daggers here for adjustments.

“Is it done?”

“…Yep.”

A short exchange. With her weapons returned, the girl inspected the blades.

She expertly charged them with Guiding Force, checking whether there were any flaws in the crests. Even her casual Guiding Force manipulation was frighteningly smooth. The man sensed that this girl was too powerful for him to measure fully, and he clamped his mouth shut to suppress his curiosity.

Apparently satisfied, the girl stowed the pair of daggers.

“Thank you. You do good work.”

“…All I did was polish them.”

“Few can polish a weapon without damaging the crests.”

The man thought back on the job as he accepted the customer’s thanks and payment.

Those were no ordinary weapons.

They were commonly referred to as crest-blades: weapons engraved with crests, invocation mediums for conjurings.

Only expert engineers could forge a usable weapon inlaid with powerful, practical crests. The combination of materials and construction of the Guiding Force channels helped form the conjuring crests, and that was achieved without sacrificing the deadliness of the raw daggers. Such a feat required specialized knowledge and perfectly honed technique.

Weapons with advanced crests like the ones on those blades would never find their way into the hands of the Commons except by some miraculous happenstance. Even the knights of the Noblesse, who were permitted to carry swords in town, could only manage to inscribe single crests onto their full-sized blades. Anything more advanced than that was as valuable as a national treasure.

Faust priestesses were the only people capable of marking a usable one-handed weapon with two or more crests.

However, no legitimate priestess would visit this sketchy workshop. The priestesses raised and kept their personal conjuring engineers private.

Any member of the Faust could simply bring their weapon to a church for maintenance.

The girl grinned a little, noticing the curiosity creeping into the man’s gaze.

“Do you want to know?”

Of course he didn’t.

The man shook his head silently.

It was a tacit understanding that he didn’t pry into his customers’ business. This girl’s potential identity was too terrifying to consider.

Normally, the man would never get involved in such things. However, he couldn’t resist his engineer’s desire to inspect a church-produced crest-blade firsthand. The job had so satisfied his technical curiosity that he didn’t regret turning a blind eye to the dangerous customer.

“Perfect. This really is a great workshop. As thanks, I promise never to come here again.”

“…’preciate it.”

The girl smiled serenely at the man’s acknowledgment and left.

He watched her departure silently. As one who worked in the criminal underworld, he received illicit information almost daily.

Word had already spread across the continent that the Faust was desperately searching for a traitor. The Inquisitors were on the prowl openly, of course, but it was rumored that the Executioners, whose very existence was speculation, had grown more active lately, too.

This traitor’s crime possibly eclipsed the great tragedy caused by the legendary Commons killer, Genom Cthulha.

The culprit was allegedly behind the murder of Archbishop Elcami in the holy land and the deliberately induced dragonblight that temporarily brought the seemingly eternal barrier city to the brink of destruction. This mastermind also had connections to Archbishop Orwell’s death in the Grisarika Kingdom. There were even whispers that she’d meddled with the fog sealing Pandemonium, one of the Four Major Human Errors, and let loose a monster.

She was the secret shame of the Faust, the worst traitor in history.

“So that was Flarette…”

Evil or not, she had undoubtedly carved her name into history for generations to come.

Surely, they would never cross paths again. After a moment, the man returned to his work.

“You’re late!”

The first to greet the girl when she arrived at the meeting point offered a high-pitched complaint, bouncing in the air like popcorn.

She shrugged off the scolding. After she confirmed that no one else was around, her face began to glow.

When the phosphorescent light of Guiding Force settled, her forgettable countenance melted away to become that of a beautiful young woman. She had pale chestnut hair and handsome features. It was Menou. She’d been using Guiding Camouflage to disguise herself.

“Late…? I’m right on time.”

“On time obviously means whenever I get here. You can’t make me wait alone! You’d better be sorry, or else!”

The girl, who looked to be less than ten, continued her admonishment.

Her outfit was very peculiar. She wore a kimono over a white dress, with a buckled belt instead of an obi to hold it in place. Although the combination looked mismatched, the girl’s youth and elegant features helped it seem like a fashion statement.

“I’m sorry, then. I shouldn’t have kept you.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure you really are sorry…” The stylish and precocious little girl glowered at Menou. “What would you do if I got lost in an unfamiliar town, huh? What if someone kidnapped me while I was unattended? I’ll have you know I’m defenseless and downright adorable. There are all sorts of dangers out there for a pretty little girl like me, so you’d better set your mind to protecting me properly from now on!”

It was an almost impressively egotistical speech. Menou placed a hand on the chatty girl’s head. Then she ruffled her locks with a bit more force than necessary.

“Nooo! You’ll mess up my hair!”

“All right, all right. Yes, Maya, you’re very cute. You’ll still be adorable with messed up hair, don’t worry.”

“What kind of reaction is that? I don’t like it one bit.”

Maya acted every bit her age, including when she clutched her head after Menou pulled her hand away. It was the typical behavior of a cheeky young girl that could be found anywhere.

In a way, Maya was the result of the deal Menou and Manon agreed to in the holy land. After entering the Star Memory for Pandemonium, Manon deceived Hakua with one final trick and restored Pandemonium’s personality from before she became a Human Error. Thanks to Manon sacrificing her existence to an Original Sin Conjuring, Pandemonium’s pinky recovered the memories of Maya Ooshima and gained a sense of independence lost a thousand years ago.

“If some ruffians try to bother you, why not fend them off with Guiding Enhancement? Then there wouldn’t be a problem.”

“No way! I don’t have nearly as much Guiding Force as you. I’d run out of power in no time flat.”

“…What about an Original Sin Conjuring, then?”

“What, and sacrifice part of my poor little self in the process?”

Although it sounded a little whiny, it was true that Maya couldn’t use an Original Sin Conjuring by way of her Pure Concept through any ordinary means. Ethically speaking, a rational-minded person couldn’t possibly forfeit flesh to a conjuring.

“I really had to gather my courage for the one I used on Sahara, you know. That’s why my hair is shorter.”

The girl pouted as she pointed to her black locks. The shorter style looked just as lovely on her, but evidently, she wasn’t too happy about it.

Menou had grown accustomed to the difference between Maya and Pandæmonium on their travels, but she still found herself marveling at the contrast occasionally. This girl was so cute and harmless that it was hard to believe she was part of Pandemonium.

In point of fact, they were now separate beings entirely. They were the same from a conjuring perspective, but their spirits were decidedly different and detached.

“Anyway, wasn’t Sahara supposed to be with you? Where is she?”

“I don’t know. That girl slacks off whenever she has the chance. She won’t do any of the things Manon would have done for me. That means you’ll have to work twice as hard for me, okay?”

The existence of this selfish, demanding, carefree girl gave Menou hope.

Typically, a Human Error invoked Pure Concept conjurings without end. Even if they were given their memories back, they’d continue as they were, using those recollections up immediately.

But this pinky finger of Pandemonium who’d declared independence didn’t deplete her memories to control monsters as the original did. Recovering her personality severed contact with the original, and she was able to eke out a sense of self.

Maya’s existence was proof that saving Akari was possible.

If Menou could share her memories with Akari over their Guiding Force connection without the Human Error inside her erasing them, she would return to normal.

“Since I’m giving you such important information, you’ve got to do whatever I say, understand?”

“Yes, I know.”

One of the biggest reasons Menou and Maya joined forces was their shared goal—to kill the Lord of the Faust, Hakua Shirakami.

The conjuring circle Hakua had prepared for returning to the other world was closely related to the natural summoning phenomenon on this planet.

“So you have to destroy the rest of me in the south, no matter what it takes. I can’t let that happen to me.”

That was Maya’s biggest request.

Without Pandemonium, Hakua’s conjuring wouldn’t have the sacrifices necessary to send her to Japan.

“If the repatriation circle is lost, then the summoning circles that operate on a reciprocal relationship will break as well. The natural summonings that randomly pull Japanese people here will end, and humans will lose the ability to intentionally bring over Otherworlders as well. I hope all that is true.”

“Don’t ask me! It’s just something I overheard an adult mention a thousand years ago. How would a little kid know if some complicated conjuring theory is correct? Duh.”

Maya tapped her forehead and smiled. It was adorable and infuriating all at once. Menou sighed over how uncertain the information was.