1

By the time the backyard garden started to lighten up, Izumi stirred, deeming the time ripe to get back to business. Regardless of the early hour, she was not the first one to rise in such a house. Descending downstairs, she found both Carmelia and Isa already awake, as if they had never gone to bed in the first place.

The owner of the house unhurriedly processed ingredients for breakfast in the back of the kitchen. Meanwhile, the sorceress was still going through Tirnael’s notes in the living room, though the stack of read documents was considerably taller than the unread one by now.

“Morning,” Izumi greeted the two, covering her yawning mouth with a hand.

“Adhvéllen,” Isa returned the greeting.

Carmelia said nothing, her eyes glued to the paper in her hands.

“You’re going to see the Sage now?” Isa asked the woman.

“That’s the plan,” Izumi replied, though she didn’t much feel like it. “Again.”

“Then eat up. If Caalan is right, it’s going to be a long day for you lot.”

“As it will for you,” Carmelia now added.

“Huh?” the emiri lady’s hands stopped working and she directed a startled look at the magician.

“You’re going with them,” the sorceress informed her, as if the decision had already been made.

“What are you talking about?” Isa stood stunned by the news.

“You don’t want to die here, do you?” Carmelia replied, turning a page. “Then there is no other choice.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Isa sighed. “Where would I even go?”

“I am sure a person of your talents will find a place. If nowhere else, the Empire or Ledarnia will welcome you, as you will have my recommendation to go with. There is nothing left to hold you back in Alderia, is there? You are done with your mourning. It is time to graduate from the role of a servant and resume living for a purpose of your own choosing.”

“You’ve changed,” the mistress of the house remarked. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear such considerate words from you, Princess.”

“...Yes, perhaps,” Carmelia muttered.

“Well, I sure wouldn’t mind having you with us,” Izumi commented. “It’d be fun.”

“I didn’t say I’d come yet!” Isa retorted. “But, I suppose I’ll think about it. To be perfectly honest with you, I may have grown slightly curious of what the human world looks like today. But—it’s not solely for my own good that you’re proposing this, is it, Caalan?”

Not meeting Isa’s gaze, Carmelia answered,

“They cannot access the highway without one of emiri blood among them. And I fear Naliya alone might not be compatible.”

“Thought so.”

“What’s up with that?” Izumi frowned at the exchange. “You’re really not coming back with us, Lia? Why?”

“The odds of my survival at this stage are extremely narrow,” the sorceress replied without much emotion in her tone. It was clearly not a fit of paranoia, but only the cold, rational assessment of a scientist.

“Then all we need to do is improve those odds,” Izumi replied.

“You should be aware that your own chances are little better,” Carmelia told her. “Start by improving those, before you worry about others. Incidentally, what is this?”

Carmelia lifted one of the documents, a page upon which a large symbol was drawn.

“Oh, that,” Izumi quickly identified the marking. “It was what I saw in the doctor’s house. That symbol was all over the place. I thought it might be important, so I sketched a copy.”

“I see,” the cirelo mumbled, staring at the picture.

“Do you know what it means?” Izumi asked.

“Not at all,” Carmelia shook her head. “I’ve never seen such a character before. But there may be something about it written here, so I will have to read on.”

“What are the papers about, anyway?” Izumi came closer and looked over the tight-spaced lines. They remained utterly unintelligible to her, as before.

“These are Tirnael’s notes on her research into the plague, as you have guessed,” the magician answered. “They mostly describe her team’s attempts to isolate a less harmful strain for the creation of a vaccine, and list bacterial oddities. It is an incomplete, disorderly selection you have brought me, with several pages missing. The text is also quite dense, idiosyncratic, full of specialized medical vocabulary. Reading it is slow, even for me, who knew the author well.”

“Is that so?” Izumi shuddered. “But if there’s anything relevant written, maybe I should take them to the Sage? Together with the samples, they might help him cook up a cure.”

“Don’t worry about it. I will see to it that he gets the synopsis.”

Carmelia’s reply was strangely evasive, but Izumi didn’t feel like pressing the matter. In all honesty, whether a cure was made or not mattered little to her. She was only in it for the reward, and wouldn’t stick around to see the results. Or, such was the plan.

Enjoying Isa’s simple, unconventional yet very flavorful breakfast, Izumi then retrieved her bag and announced that she would head out to deliver the samples.

“Before you go,” Carmelia interrupted her. “Drink this. It should improve your compatibility with local magecraft. If Erekhigan gifts you a new rune, you will want to maximize its efficiency, no?”

The sorceress snapped her fingers.

On the corner of the table appeared a tall glass full of deep green liquid. Finely chopped and crushed herbs and small black berries floated in a creamy fluid. It certainly looked every bit like an alchemical concoction, and not terribly delicious. Izumi glanced at Carmelia, who returned to studying the notes and offered no further details regarding the contents of the glass. In the back of the kitchen, Isa was taking out plates for the other guests, keeping out of the matter.

“Well, you’re the specialist.” Izumi shrugged and reached for the glass. “Thanks, doc!”

However, she was slightly too slow in the act.

At that moment, the drowsy ex-warrior-turned-bard staggered out of the men’s temporary bedroom and entered the kitchen.

“Oops, pardon me!” Waramoti unscrupulously stepped ahead and swiped the glass Izumi was reaching for with his long arm. Before the woman’s stunned eyes, he proceeded to chug the elixir.

“H-hey! Who gave you the permission to drink other people’s magic smoothies!?” Izumi yelled at him. “Are you picking a fight with me!?”

“Well, I’m so sorry!” the man commented, returning the glass half-emptied to the table and wiped his mouth. “My throat’s damned sore, and you’re not dying of thirst just yet, by the looks of it. Geez! You should learn to share with your friends if you’re going to—”

The bard never finished his sentence.

All of a sudden, his eyes rolled back and the burly man fell limp onto the floor with a loud thud. There he lay on his back like a dead fish, and wouldn’t move a muscle.

“T...t….the what?” Izumi stared at the unconscious bard in shock, mouth agape.

——“PFFhahahahahaha!”

In the back of the kitchen, Isa burst into bright laughter, unable to contain herself any longer. “Hahaha! You and your tricks, Caalan! I take it back! Even after six thousand years, you haven’t changed a bit!”

Carmelia made no comment, looking rather sour.

“D-d-did I just almost get poisoned?” Izumi asked, looking first at the herbal drink, then at the sorceress. “What the heck did you do that for!?”

“As an insurance,” Carmelia defiantly declared, standing up to face the woman. “The drink was made of the berries of Cintardhia. Their effects should be many times more potent than that of the sap.”

“Meaning?”

“Drinking the whole concoction would have regressed your cellular structure to the state of a child. And taking your pre-existing biophysical condition into account, the change would have likely been permanent.”

Izumi could only manage one word in response to the egregious claim.

“Why...?”

“To better control you, of course,” the sorceress coldly answered. “Obtaining a rune of healing, on top of your other abilities, your growth will have well exceeded what can be kept on a leash. An asset such as yourself roaming here and there without any restraint would be in no one’s best interests. I had to create a dependency, a way to ensure you would not leave the Empire. Because managing assets such as yourself is my duty as the Court Wizard, and as one of the heads of the Circle of Pale Ashes. Our campaign against the daemons necessitates it. Feel free to despise me all you like. I only did what I judged right, for the greater good.”

“Ehhh...”

Izumi struggled to process the bizarre turn of events, while Carmelia continued to stand with a stubborn air about her, as if to say that being hated and reviled didn’t bother her one bit.

Too bad, the cirelo’s intentions fell apart yet again. They were foiled by her former maid, the one person here who had followed her growth from an infant into a princess and on to a villain, and who could not be fooled by her pretenses.

“Divines be, you never knew when to give up,” Isa sighed, stepping forward. The smile she showed now was a pitying one. “If this is to be your last day alive, why don’t you take the chance to be sincere, just this once? You don’t want to leave with lingering regrets—isn’t that what you told me?”

“...”

Carmelia didn’t comment but looked away, sulking.

“What are you talking about?” Izumi asked instead. “The heck is going on in here?”

“You may have your charm points, young lady, but you’re not the brightest candle in the box,” Isa teased the woman. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Dependencies work both ways. ‘Don’t ever leave my side’—is what she was aiming for, you see? Our kind never dies. So by returning you to childhood, this idiot hoped to make you outlive all competition, leaving you with no other choice but to keep with her to the bitter end. In the event that you actually make it out of the island. Or, perhaps she hoped that the guise of a child would spare you when it all goes down? The right answer would be a mix of both, yes?”

Isa put her hand on the apathetic magician’s shoulder, shaking her with nearly motherly affection. Carmelia neither admitted nor denied the theory, which spoke volumes.

“Just how far you can go, decide it for yourself,” Isa went on to tell Izumi. “Don’t let petty attachments hold you back. The people who truly care for you will never want you to stop.”

You should take that to heart too—saying so to the sorceress, Isa waved farewell to the summoned champion and returned to her chores.

2

The light of the pale, early noon sun filtered through the thicket. The villa atop the forest hill in its majestic loneliness—it had never seemed particularly inviting to outsiders, but the forbidding air about the house was palpable today.

Nevertheless, Izumi had a quest to complete, rewards to earn, and so she made her way to the entrance without hesitating. The front door remained closed at her approach, unlike the other day. Her knocking went unanswered as well. However, as she tried the handle, Izumi discovered that the door was unlocked, and so she ended up excusing herself.

The house remained silent and still on the inside. The unlit interior stood shrouded in undisturbed shadows. Swallowing her unease, Izumi strode through the main hall, towards the staircase in the back. There, the onion-shaped pod she had seen on her first visit appeared hovering in front of her, as the lone guardian of the Sage’s dwelling.

“You have something to say?” Izumi paused before the device.

The drone stared at her with the dark, eye-like lens, a faint whirring sound coming from within the shell. Whether the gadget had intelligence or not, or any capacity for speech, it produced no answer.

“Yeah. You too.” Izumi passed the drone, already knowing the way to the study upstairs. But the odd device kept following her close behind, like a dutiful watch dog. Its presence certainly didn’t help her feel any better.

“Speaking of dogs, something smells...”

There was a weird odor in the air.

Not the scent of wood and dust she had learned to expect, but an unsavory, pungent stench. It hovered faint in the main hall but grew stronger on the second floor. Stronger yet it grew as Izumi neared Erekhigan’s study.

“Geh...” she grimaced. “Take out your own garbage, sheesh!”

In front of the door of the study, the stench floated so thick and unbearable that Izumi had to pause. Something was definitely off. Instead of going in, she took a step back.

The trick hadn’t been very pleasant to do the first time, but she had to check what she was getting into.

“You ready, Yui-chan? Ocilí—Statha.”

——!

The head-splitting flood of information swept away Izumi’s sense of balance, weight, and direction. In an instant, the building around was drawn in her mind in nauseatingly high definition. Not only what she could see from her position on the second floor balcony, but even the rooms that were closed, their contents and layout were laid bare before her perception. She could even see into Erekhigan’s study, past the locked door, the slim cracks between the boards and frames converted as wide open avenues in her expanded perception. She saw at once that the Sage was indeed absent.

And yet—there was something.

A disturbing form stood behind the door.

Having that sickening, revolting figure enter her mind made Izumi quickly turn off the rune and reject any additional information. The barrage of appalling details felt no different from having toxic waste thrown in her face, and Izumi had to exert every last bit of her will power not to throw up her breakfast, while leaning on the railing behind her.

The source of the horrid stench oozing out of the study was that inexplicable thing inside, and the extensive state of decay it had fallen into. Whoever had dug the thing up from its rightful resting place was hopelessly too late to salvage anything resembling a person.

Nevertheless, it moved.

It could move.

It had awareness and intelligence, or some primitive, skewed, crippled shadows of such. Neither living nor appropriately dead, animated, and wholly unappealing.

Izumi forgot about her original purpose. She could only think about getting out of this house of horrors as soon as was humanly possible. Yet, at the same time, she knew it was much too late.

The thing had already noticed her presence.

Whether it had sensed her magic or just the warmth of her living flesh, it knew she was there, and was by no means happy to have met her. The last thing the echo of the spell delivered back was the impression of the macabre thing throwing itself at the door from the inside.

“Gram, Tauhirn!”

Still dizzy from the use of Yubilea’s skill, Izumi switched to the Rune of Power and Iron Hide. At the same time, she vaulted over the balcony railing, for a shortcut downstairs.

A split second after, a mountain of rotten flesh burst through the study entrance, tearing off a portion of the wall alongside the door. The air was suddenly full of bruised, purple flesh and wooden splinters. A gurgling, low roar erupted from within the rampaging abomination, just as abhorrent as its source.

Izumi dropped down to the first floor hall. She landed on her feet, the runes absorbing most of the shock. The unnamed thing fell soon after her, crashing partly through the parquet due to its sheer weight and momentum.

Without suspense, the creature raised itself, turning to face Izumi.

It was definitely not a view she particularly wanted to look at.

The monster was vaguely humanoid, but grossly mutated and degraded. The right arm was the size of a cow, a misshapen mass of bulging, rotten meat. The left arm was shorter and bony, almost like a twig in comparison, but still creepily long for an arm. The base for this twisted monstrosity had probably been an elf once, for even the fairly undistorted, naked main body towered well above Izumi. There was no identifying the original person, however, as the head was nothing but a swollen, hairless, egg-like shape of spoiled flesh and decay, on which nothing but a wide-gaping mouth could be seen. Nevertheless, the shreds of clothes still dangling from the violated form proved that the creature was no product of chaotic nature, but had once been a character of some civility.

Standing up, ignoring any damage from the uncontrolled fall, the creature exhaled another roar, full of rage, pain, and madness.

“——HgrrrooaaaaaaaaAAAARGGh!”

“Just a ‘welcome back’ would do,” Izumi remarked.

As though driven by a general hatred for all living, the monster lunged at Izumi with reckless abandon, smacking its large arm down in the fashion of a great club. She evaded by stepping aside, but was too slow for the follow-up. With a backhanded slap, the monster struck the woman, casting her into the side of the hall. She passed straight through the door of the facing room, through the room, and out of the window.

Congratulating herself for her timely use of the Iron Hide, Izumi went on rolling over the backyard, before being able to dig her hands and heels into the ground to halt her bouncy flight.

She was given no time to catch her breath, however.

The hulking mass of flesh burst straight through the building wall, chasing after her.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAWRRRRGHH—!”

Even with Gram active, she was no match for the monster in a contest of brute force—recognizing this, Izumi turned her attention to Nobuhiro the horse, which awaited beyond the corner, across the front yard. In the cart behind the horse was the saber Izumi had found in the town of Ambron, the only real way to fight back the bloodthirsty creature.

“Mito. Sifl.”

Switching the Iron Hide for the Rune of Displacement, Izumi dashed for the horse. Sprinting with all her might, she crossed the distance with swiftness that would have given Olympic gold medalists a run for their money. But in such a contest her adversary would have been outright disqualified. The monster made no effort to run with its regular feet, but used its massive right arm to propel itself high up in the air, and pursued the woman leaping like a hideous toad.

Izumi reached the horse, but found her situation little improved. She hadn’t managed to pull a lead wide enough to search the cart and retrieve the sword. The monstrosity already fell upon her. It landed right beside her like a fleshly meteor, and immediately swung its gargantuan fist at her in a vicious right hook.

Seeing it coming, Izumi dropped low to evade the punch. Poor Nobuhiro wasn’t as clever. Whatever Erekhigan had done to its mind had rid the horse entirely of all natural survival instincts, leaving it unable to panic even at the sight of such a horror. Thus, the beast did nothing but continued to stand foolishly—or perhaps bravely—at the face of certain demise.

The monster’s punch missed its primary target, landing on the innocent bystander instead. The horse’s head exploded by the impact, killing it instantly. The animal’s lifeless body was flung away like a sack of potatoes, the cart pulled along with it. Realizing she was on the sliding cart’s path, Izumi jumped, her leg strength augmented by Gram, and somersaulted over the sliding transport.

The cart hit the mutated creature instead, causing frustratingly minor damage. The broken frame of the cart went flying over the beast, spinning wildly in the air. In the process, anything and everything aboard was forcibly ejected. The supply compartment, the empty lunch box, bags—and the still bloodied sword, it’s edge briefly flashing.

“A-ha!” Izumi exclaimed, landing back on her feet, her gaze fixed on the instrument of slaughter. She avoided the following downward slam of the malformed hand with a jumping roll, and dashed ahead to catch the falling blade.

Then, an unexpected obstacle appeared.

Erekhigan’s magical drone descended to block Izumi’s path.

One way or the other, the device had left the villa of its own accord and now came to hover between her and the landing sword.

“Eh?”

The lens eye embedded in the onion shape began to emit a rapidly intensifying glow.

Predicting the danger, Izumi hurried to pull herself out of the line of its gaze—and not a moment too soon. Some manner of a focused energy beam erupted from the lens, flashing past the woman’s right ear. Behind, she shortly heard a loud pop as the shot hit a random tree.

There could be no question of it.

Seeing as the drone wasn’t aiming at the monster behind her, it had definitely not come to her rescue. On the contrary, it had likely arrived to assist the creature in exterminating the intruder. As though to confirm the theory, the drone immediately corrected its orientation, aiming at the woman again. Pew, pew, it fired in rapid succession. Izumi leaped sideways and kept rolling to save herself.

“My, my, aren’t I popular…!”

The situation looked quite dire. Hopeless, even.

But giving up was not an option when one’s life was on the line.

Shutting down the spreading sense of panic, Izumi tried to assess her options, as if her predicament were but an everyday game scenario.

The magic sentry appeared to have no variety in its power output, and the firing rate of approximately one shot per second. A second was a long time on the battlefield.

Izumi gave up on the sword and changed course for the drone instead. Keeping count in her mind, she timed her dodges with a hair-thin margin, and steadily drew closer, step after step. At the same time, the abomination chasing the woman could not avoid taking hits from the scattered spray of magical energy. The shots weren’t powerful enough to kill it, but still heavy enough to slow it down, buying Izumi time to maneuver. Ironically, it was right in between the fire and the frying pan that she found necessary safety.

As Izumi got nearer, the drone began to pull back and ascend. Exerting her leg strength, Izumi made a desperate leap and reached out her arms. She seized the onion-shaped pod between her palms and turned it aside, twisting her head out of the way of the next shot. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she felt a flash of intense heat on her cheek, and the smell of ozone in her nostrils, but wouldn’t let go.

The gadget wasn’t powerful enough to fly with a person’s weight attached to it. Both of them came falling down to the ground with a slam. Enduring the impact, Izumi glanced over her shoulder, estimated the timing and counted again.

“One, two...”

She released the drone and rolled right.

Accompanied by a wrathful roar, the bloated limb fell upon her yet again. Instead of finding its target, it hit the Sage’s device instead, shattering it like a can of soda. At the same time, the sharp, elongated top end of the drone pierced through the monster’s fat palm.

Damage of that level had to leave an impression.

“——HgyaAAARRRRLLLLHh…!” The monster howled in agony, and threw its revolting limbs high up, reeling.

Izumi didn’t miss her chance. In an instant, she was back up on her feet and reached for the elven saber in the grass. Seizing the weapon, she turned back and crouched. Pushing the runes to their absolute limits, she dived straight in at the creature and swung across, sinking the sword into the slime-coated flesh that thick, purple veins spotted. Stepping right, she continued to turn and pull the blade along, slicing through flesh and bone, steadily disconnecting the creature’s upper body from its hips. The narrow strip of flesh and the backbone left to connect the two halves couldn't uphold the weight of the heavy arm. Black, reeking blood sprayed all over Erekhigan’s front yard as the hideous beast tore apart and fell. The mess was staggering, as was the foul reek of rot released in the process.

“——Geh!”

Izumi held her nose, standing in the resulted pool of filth.

But even after enduring damage of this level, the creature wouldn’t perish.

The cut upper half kept convulsing, thrashing about in apparent anguish, while ceaseless howling and gurgling continued to sound from its swollen throat. The revolting twitching and spasming showed no sign of subsiding.

How could something that was never alive to begin with die?

Unable to get closer due to the randomly swinging limbs, Izumi ended up casting her saber at the wretched beast. The saber pierced the egg-like head, pinning it into the ground, and the creature’s continued convulsions tore open the wound. The cleaved head spread its colorful contents all over, until being fully emptied. With the brain destroyed, there was nothing left to keep the thing moving and the maddening howling finally ended, even as the body kept still making occasional, reflexive jumps.

To decisively end the horror and pay back for the scare, Izumi dragged the broken cart over the corpse, lit it with the Rune of Ignition, and watched the atrocity disappear in a sea of flames.

For a lengthy while, she stood staring into the fire, catching her breath.

The dreadful episode had given Izumi numerous questions more in place of answers. But one thing at least she had learned with particular clarity—she wouldn’t be getting her rune from the Sage today. Missing any sense of accomplishment in her victory, only feeling empty and dazed, she eventually turned to leave.

Then, her eyes spotted something odd in the grass. Something that had certainly not been among her own luggage, glittering faintly with the purity of silver.

“Hm? What’s that…?”

3

The trip between Isa’s house and Erekhigan’s villa had taken about three quarters of an hour with a horse to pull the cart. The journey back on foot took closer to three, Izumi’s poor sense of direction added into the equation. By the time she made it back, she was tired, hungry, angry, and thoroughly fed up with everything. For the first time since leaving Bhastifal, she had started to think that there might have been a better way to acquire healing magic. Not to mention busty blondes.

Fortunately, no more unpleasant surprises awaited her.

Indeed, it was as if no time at all had passed in her absence. Stefan and Alexander were chopping up firewood in the backyard. Millanueve and Naliya were hanging up laundry to dry. And indoors, the two elves remained at very nearly the same positions they had occupied in the morning.

“Well?” Carmelia greeted Izumi with a question. “Did Erekhigan reward you rightly for your success?”

“The wizard wasn’t at home,” Izumi replied, quite annoyed.

“Might want to take a bath,” Isa told her. “You reek like something else.”

Needless to say, Izumi was covered in dirt, bruises, and colorful, repulsive substances, of which rotten blood was the easiest to identify. Her stained clothes, imbued also with the rustic scent of smoke, were in tatters here and there.

“It is as I feared then,” Carmelia quietly said, standing up from her chair. “We should get ready. Every moment is precious now.”

“I’m not leaving without the rune,” Izumi said, raising her voice in frustration.

Instead of arguing, the sorceress picked up a singular page from among the notes.

“Then rejoice,” she said. “For what you seek, you have already found.”

“What?”

Carmelia showed Izumi the page with the sketch of the strange character.

“This is Ohrm, the High Rune of Restoration. A ninth tier word of power, the best poor Tirnael knew. With it, she sought to save herself from a slow, torturous death—but failed, for what ailed her was no conventional disease, nor did she suffer any such damage that could have been restored with magic. Tirnael’s end means your strength now. I doubt even Erekhigan could have given you anything better. Or perhaps he intended for you to discover this all along, and considered his debt thus paid? No matter. Go cleanse yourself, so that I may add it to the secula sonatea. Indeed, you smell most foul.”

“Ehh…?” Izumi stared at the paper in confusion. “It was that easy all along?”

“I find it amazing that you can still call it ‘easy’, after all that you’ve been through,” the sorceress replied.

“When exactly did you find out about the rune? Why did I even go to the Sage?”

“Pardon me, but I knew about the rune the moment I first laid eyes on it. I had you go to Erekhigan, nevertheless, for by doing so, you have answered my last remaining questions. I could not share this with you beforehand, for Erekhigan can read your mind just as easily as I can, and he would have learned what I know, had he been there. At any rate, your mission is now over, your purpose in Alderia fulfilled. Tonight, you will leave with the others.”

“Hang on a minute,” Izumi interrupted. “Was I just exploited for something outrageous?”

“No, you imagined it.”

“Okay. I’m too hungry and tired to think about it right now,” the woman shrugged. “But, Lia, do you still mean to stay behind? Didn’t you say you got your answers?”

“Yes. I cannot go,” Carmelia’s mind remained unchanged. “Through answers, I have found certain responsibilities.”

“Then I will—”

“—Forgive me,” the sorceress interrupted. “There is nothing you can do for me, unless you wish to pay back my debts on my behalf. But you may find that you cannot afford it. No. Not a living soul can. This path is the result of my own choices, my just deserts. The others need you more than I do. Should anything go wrong, only your power can protect them.”

“...Fine,” Izumi gave up, tired of arguing. “Have it your way then.”

She found the sorceress’s solemn demeanor frustrating. It reeked of resignation, as though the cirelo had already accepted her fate as inevitable and not worth fighting.

However, before trying to come up with any counterarguments, Izumi could agree that the stench stuck onto her was unbearable, and so begrudgingly set aside her complaints in favor of a bath.

4

Following a scrubbing and a change of clothes, Izumi joined Carmelia in the attic, where the sorceress taught her the meaning and proper pronunciation of Ohrm—“o-rum”—and proceeded to engrave it onto the woman’s back, in the company of the seven other characters.

Izumi was a bit disappointed by how simple the ceremony was this time. She only had to take her shirt off and sit on a stool, while Carmelia—not stripping either—etched the rune onto her. It lacked the sense of achievement. The basis for the arc was already laid, the addition of individual characters was trivial, or so the sorceress said.

“This rune encapsulates the nature of daybreak, as in the ‘emergence of new, which overwrites old knowledge’,” Carmelia explained. “Therefore, its potency peaks in the morning. It is functional at any other time of the day too, but the effect is gradually diminished, reaching minimum at midnight. Cast Ohrm once a week to undo the degradation by the Cintardhia essence, or whenever otherwise needed, and you will be able to live a healthy life.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Izumi said, pulling her shirt back on.

“I will not place any limiters on the rune, but it does come with certain restrictions of its own,” the Court Wizard continued. “As a Superior Rune, Ohrm is dominant relative to the other characters. You will need to deactivate any other runes in the arc before attempting to heal yourself.”

“Eeh?” Izumi wasn’t pleased by the news. “Are you trying to turn my action adventure into a cover shooter?”

“Arguing changes nothing. Attempting a simultaneous activation will cause the other runes to be forcibly dispelled, with the chance of leaving you exposed in a fight. In the worst case, the priority conflict may even have adverse side-effects.”

“Okay, I get it, I get it,” Izumi sighed. “So I’ll have to huff behind a corner if I take a hit.”

“Try not to depend on the rune too much. I have warned you of the nature of your power before, and you have not suddenly become immortal. Your goal should still be to not get hit.”

“You’re right. I’ll get a bad clearance rank if I take damage, won’t I?”

“...I sure wish Ohrm could fix that brain of yours too. How about you give it a try?”

Done with the procedure, Carmelia told Izumi to stand and test the spell.

“Ah...”

As soon as Izumi activated the magic, a warm, soothing sensation spread through her whole body, welling up from somewhere deep within. Stiffened and jammed muscles became relaxed, blocked nervous pathways reopened, bringing about a ticklish feeling in her limbs and back. All the bruises and scratches faded away at once, together with the fatigue, leaving her refreshed and relaxed. Even her fading senses of smell and taste were honed.

The experience was similar to Naliya’s magic. Both spells were of the restoration type, after all. Still, using a power that was your own was more comfortable than receiving favors from another—in Izumi’s personal opinion, anyway.

“My, my. This is something!” she marveled, looking at herself. “Perfect is what it is! I feel like myself again! Back at full power! Itaka Izumi—humanity restored!”

Carmelia also nodded in satisfaction.

“Yes, it works as it should. There is no conflict with the arc, nor your body.”

“Thanks a lot, Lia,” Izumi told her. “Looks like I owe you again.”

“You did all the work yourself this time,” Carmelia denied. “You owe me nothing.”

“Are you still sure I won’t be of any help to you? Even with a power-up like this?”

“If only all the problems in the world could be solved by ‘powering up’,” the sorceress quietly replied.

“Well, the offer’s there. Still, whatever happens, this isn’t the last time we’re seeing each other, is it? You’re going to come back to us, aren't you? One way or the other?”

“If destiny so allows.”

“That’s not good enough!” Izumi scolded the magician. “You gotta be the author of your own destiny, you know? I just checked off one more item on my to-do-list, but there are still many, many more left. Finding out how you look in a classic bunny girl costume is definitely up there. So you can’t die off before that, no matter what happens. I won't allow it!”

“Does that mean I must never die?”

“Yeah,” Izumi smiled at the apparent jab. “I can endure not dressing you up, if that means you’ll stick around a little longer.”

Carmelia looked back at the woman—and a smile also appeared on her face.

It was not her typical, faint diplomat smile, and neither was it quite heartfelt either, failing to reach her gleaming eyes. But it was a smile nonetheless. A wide, clear, charming smile, the likes of which Izumi had not seen before.

“I’m going to miss that nonsense of yours,” Carmelia told the woman.

“Don’t call it nonsense,” Izumi said. “It’s my earnest wish to you, my best friend in another world.”

“Friend...” Carmelia repeated, as if recalling the meaning of a word she had forgotten long ago. The cirelo closed her eyes and turned away, the smile lingering on her lips. “Very well. I’ll be sure to come back. One way, or the other. After all, I would never lie to a friend.”