"Huh? ...Who is this person?"
Inside the Jewel.
Seeing a woman sitting in a chair and waving in the Round Table room, I tilted my head.
When I came after being summoned, apart from the Fifth Generation—who was perched on top of the Round Table looking sulky—all the Successive Heads wore expressions of bewilderment.
Looking at the woman, I couldn't help but think of Miranda, and then I realized—this was the grown-up Mireia I'd seen in the Memory Room.
"Could it be... Mireia?"
When I'd seen her in the Memory Room, she'd been in her teens. But the Mireia standing before me now looked to be in her mid-twenties.
"That's correct, Rael. Although, you were looking at my younger self, so your reaction is a bit slow. You should memorize someone's name along with their face the first time you see them. Weren't you taught that?"
I had been taught that. But I'd never had a chance to put it into practice as a child.
Being told that again after so long, I looked to the Fifth Generation with a confused expression.
The Fifth Generation, whom I'd had seated in her own chair, was perched on top of the Round Table, sighing.
"Why is Mireia here, you ask? How the hell should we know? That's why we're stuck. According to her, Rael needs to be told everything."
I need to be told everything?
Curious about what "everything" meant, I turned my gaze to Mireia. Her light purple wavy hair and golden eyes reminded me of Shannon.
But her facial features and atmosphere were Miranda. Her build, too, was Miranda's.
(A best-of-both-worlds blend of Miranda and Shannon?)
If she was Miranda on the inside too, that would be trouble. If she was Shannon on the inside, I'd feel sorry for her. Not that I actually know what kind of person she is.
"Rael, because you refused to enter your own Memory Room, I ended up having to come here in person to serve as your guide."
I looked at the door behind my seat.
My Memory Room was different from those of the successive heads. It wasn't a room that simply replayed memories. It had become something else entirely.
Since we had no need for it at the moment, we had been ignoring the door.
(Is the Jewel saying it won't tolerate being ignored?)
But I had my own reasons for not going in.
"Um... I'm kind of busy right now—could we maybe do this another day?"
Mireia looked around at the surrounding successive heads with a troubled expression.
The Third Generation spoke in their usual manner.
"I know, right? You're busy, so why not put it off? Being told you have to do everything right now would be a pain."
The Fourth Generation adjusted their glasses with a finger.
"I'd like to grant my grandchild's request, but it's low on the priority list."
The Seventh Generation looked troubled.
"Even if it's my aunt's request, I'm afraid that's not possible. I'm busy."
I suddenly recalled that she was, in fact, the Seventh Generation's aunt. Mireia turned to look at the Fifth Generation.
The Fifth Generation scratched his head.
"I don't know what you're trying to get Rael to do. If there's something in it for me, I'll prioritize it."
Mireia smiled and said:
"As expected, Father, you really are kind. That said, the memories of the successive heads are truly troublesome. It's a little sad that honest Rael has become so stubborn."
How was I supposed to react to all of this?
(Dealing with the successive heads would make anyone stubborn, whether they liked it or not.)
Mireia stood up, walked over to where I was sitting, and gently took both of my hands.
My heart raced, but it wasn't the kind you feel for someone of the opposite sex. It was more like... how a mother would feel.
"Rael, you need to know everything about Skills. Why did House Walt's blue stones become Jewels... and more importantly, what stones originally were to begin with."
I recalled words spoken by Monica's sister in the Dungeon some time ago.
"Memories, wasn't it? I think that's what she said."
Mireia nodded.
"That's right. Stones and Jewels are nothing more than storage media for memories. They record the lives we've lived, even our personalities... recording Skills was merely a byproduct."
The Third Generation, hearing Mireia's words, spoke up.
"I knew it. I knew something was off. The situation where we'd be teaching Rael Skills isn't exactly efficient, is it? Was there perhaps another underlying purpose... like transferring one's personality to another person?"
It wasn't just his flippant attitude; all the Successive Heads around us were fixing Mireia with sharp gazes.
When I looked troubled, Mireia smiled and shook her head.
"That's not it either. That's why you need to know everything, Rael. Many stones have been lost now. The appearance of Mana Tools also served to make stones obsolete."
The Seventh Generation found Mireia's words puzzling.
"So you're saying stones didn't naturally fall out of use? That someone was pulling strings behind the scenes?"
Mireia didn't answer the Seventh Generation's question. Instead, she took my hand and led me toward the door.
"Rael, learn everything. If you don't, your story will surely remain incomplete."
My hand pulled along, I offered no resistance as I opened the door with Mireia and stepped inside.
Entering my memory room, the area was blindingly bright.
As I couldn't keep my eyes open, I heard Mireia's voice.
"This is your memory room—and at the same time, it's also a memory of the Jewel. The Jewel wanted you to know. That's why it was recreated in this imperfect form."
As my eyes gradually adjusted, a city spread out before me that didn't exist in my memories. No, perhaps it was some major metropolis?
When I looked around, people were drinking and making a racket despite the sun being high in the sky.
"This place is?"
'...It began with kindness. This is the capital of a country from long ago. A kingdom that perished thousands of years ago. You know of it too, Lyle—the Village of Mages.'
Their way of life looked no different from the present, but now that it was pointed out, there was something distinctly old-fashioned about it.
The clothes people wore, and their shoes—
There was only one kind of alcohol being served. The dishes lined up were all simple fare. For such a large city, you might call it modest.
(But if this is the past, could that even be possible? And why would the Jewel have records from so long ago? The First Generation only bought the Jewel two hundred and thirty years ago, didn't he?)
I followed after Mireia through the sprawling metropolis that was neither the capital of Banseim nor Centras.
Every voice I heard sounded like the people were in high spirits.
"Some kind of festival?"
The adults were making noise, and children were running around playing.
But Mireia's answer was different.
'...This is an ordinary weekday in this country. Lyle, do you see that building?'
In the direction she pointed, I could see a structure still under construction.
There, figures of clay dolls could be seen hard at work.
"Is that magic?"
Looking more closely, many of them were Golems laboring away. Yet there didn't seem to be a mage anywhere nearby.
I walked alongside Mireia. Going straight ahead, a building came into view that was remarkably plain for such a large city.
'Yes, it's magic. And the one maintaining this entire metropolis... is a single mage.'
I realized.
The origin of the Village of Mages was—"
"—This country. And this country's mage is Septem. The seventh goddess."
Hearing the name Septem, I remembered Ceres's Jewel.
The plain building was guarded by Golems. As we approached, they parted to let us pass.
Despite being situated in the heart of the great metropolis, the modest mansion was strikingly small.
There was not a trace of human presence; only Golems worked inside.
Led by Mireia, I entered a particular room.
There, an old woman lay on a small bed.
"...My, how unusual. To have guests."
The gentle-looking elderly woman lay weakly, yet she offered a smile when she saw us.
"Um, you can actually see us—"
Mireia nodded and brought two chairs from within the room, gesturing for me to sit as well.
"Lyle, if you don't sit, Septem-sama won't be able to relax either."
"Huh? No, um... Septem-sama? Ah, this person?"
I had assumed Septem was the mastermind. Whether Ceres was being manipulated or was an accomplice was unclear. But I never imagined Septem would be someone who looked this kind.
"Won't you sit? It's distressing for me as well."
She was frail, with white hair, and her violet eyes still held a light. But her body couldn't keep up, and she couldn't move.
A Golem entered the room and adjusted the bed so the old woman—Septem—could sit up, allowing us to converse.
"I'm sorry. You must not understand. I am Septem—no, I am the one who inherits Septem's memories. The one who inherits a goddess's memories."
Hearing that, I grew even more confused. Mireia then offered an explanation for my sake.
"So, Laiel, you know the story of the goddess and the evil god, yes? Which one is considered the most noble of them all?"
"The seventh — the last goddess."
"That's right. Magic and Skills are both said to have been given to humanity by the seventh goddess. And the Jewel was developed by this Septem herself."
I stared at Septem in disbelief. She had been smiling so warmly — she never once looked like the kind of person who would do anything wrong.
Mireia continued.
"The Jewel belonging to House Walt — that's her original creation. The others are imitations crafted by Agrissa — no, rather, she imitated the original and refined it further. That's the Jewel Ceres possesses. Because of that, they produced massive quantities of Jwels and they just became a fad three hundred years ago."
Septem looked at me with a guilty expression.
"I never imagined that the Jwels I made would lead to something like this in the future. I'm sorry, Laiel. In the end, those children were the ones who were right."
"Those children?"
When I asked, Septem answered.
"Yes. Nihil, Octo, and Novem... one was never spoken of, and two were branded as evil gods."
"...Novem... and Nihil, you don't mean..."
Mireia spoke to me.
"Novem is the same as Septem — one who inherits the memories of a goddess. Though, publicly, she's treated as an evil god."
Hearing this, I felt a mild shock.
(Wait — if you knew all of this, you could have just told me, Novem.)
Inside the Jewel.
When I emerged through the door alongside Mireia, the Successive Heads were waiting for me.
The Fifth Generation, reading my expression, said:
"Did you manage to find out anything?"
I nod, but it's not like I've learned everything. There still seems to be something she wants to tell me, but Mireia put an end to it.
"Quite a lot, actually. That Novem has inherited the goddess's memories. That Novem's bloodline descends from the goddess. And that House Walt's Jewel was the original one. Actually, it sounds like Septem was the one who made it."
Hearing that, the Fourth Generation...
'...Could you please actually explain properly? I don't really understand.'
Mireia, looking at the Successive Heads...
'Lyle, go back to the real world already. I'll explain the rest.'
"...I'll leave it to you. I mean, it's all just too shocking."
Mireia, looking at me...
'Novem must have had her reasons too. So don't blame her. That girl will surely continue to devote herself to you even if Lyle rejects her. But that would just be too sad.'
I immediately...
"No, I wouldn't hate her or anything. It's just—when I think she was actually a goddess, it makes me wonder whether I was being loved by a goddess... you know?"
Mireia looked at me, eyes wide, both hands covering her mouth.
'...Lyle, you've been far too contaminated by the Successive Heads.'
The Seventh Generation, apparently dissatisfied with that opinion...
'What are you talking about, Aunt? This is simply what the men of House Walt are like.'
The Successive Heads started saying things like "That's right" and laughing.
When I woke up, I was in an inn in the port town.
Waking up in the borrowed room, dawn had already broken. Nearby, Monica also stirred awake because I had moved.
"Oh my, you're waking up way too early today. Honestly, please think about the hardship a maid has to go through. You really are a troublesome Chicken, aren't you? But I do love that about you too, of course."
Seeing Monica acting like her usual self, I felt a little relieved.
"My bad. Today's the day we set sail, right?"
Monica sprang into motion, pulling a bucket and tools from the gap between her apron and skirt, and began filling the bucket with hot water.
"That's right. I confirmed it at Vera's place, so I'm certain. Apparently, there's a lot of cargo to transport to Baim this time. She was busy and all. Thanks to that, she couldn't meet the queen of Cartaffs or something."
"Something? What do you mean, something? Well, I get that she was busy."
"They couldn't find time for each other, it seems. The queen of this country is quite busy, apparently. ...Don't tell me you're thinking of adding her to your harem? I'll follow you no matter what kind of scumbag you are, but even I have to question your taste if you're aiming for the queen too. You pervert!"
Feeling like I was being made fun of, I stood up to deny it.
"No! I mean, sure, it would've been nice to meet her if I could."
I had considered the possibility of being asked for cooperation as a countermeasure against Ceres. Other than that, I had no particular motive.
This time, I'd been dispatched from Baim on a request from the Cartaffs Guild, and having completed the subjugation of the Land Dragon, I was on my way back to Baim.
The journey alone covered a considerable distance, and by the time I made it back to the port, the ship I was supposed to board wouldn't depart for several more days.
I'd made it in time for the job, but there were plenty of other things on my mind.
"...That attacker. Was it something like Lark Mayard? From what I'd heard, he seemed like a scattered, hard-to-pin-down sort of guy."
I had a lead on the ones who'd launched the attack. However, I had no evidence to confront them, and on top of that, they seemed to have vanished somewhere and couldn't be found.
The information I'd gathered was all over the place—"bounce-back type," "easygoing," "scum," "aspirational adventurer." It was a jumble.
From women, he had high evaluations, and I could tell he possessed some kind of skill that attracted the opposite sex.
Within a few days, I wouldn't be able to do anything about it, and I'd be leaving Cartaffs. It was frustrating, but if I didn't go to Baim, I wouldn't get paid.
"So I can't afford to worry about Lark right now, huh. Once I get back, there are plenty of issues I need to resolve anyway."
Monica chimed in with her thoughts while continuing the morning preparations.
"Money matters are important, after all. Well, this Monica wouldn't dump you over something like pay, unlike those other women. You can praise me more, you know?"
"That's only because you can't move if you don't get mana from me..."
After finishing our usual morning conversation, I washed my face and took the towel from Monica.
Looking out the window, the morning sunlight was beautiful.
Many ships were lined up in the harbor, spreading out a spectacular view.
"Well, once we're back, it'll be busy again."
There was the matter with Novem, and giving Jewel to Septem...
There were various things, but for now, I couldn't dwell on that alone.
(I need to understand various things first. I'll ask Novem after I know more... There's a lot to do before that, anyway.)