A Conclusion: The Festival of the Dead

Doryeong begged me for mercy, pleading with me not to destroy the Festival of the Dead.

His tearful expression was so heartfelt that I couldn’t just ignore him and move on.

If he’d been an adult, I would’ve just said, “Oh, is that so?” and left it at that.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do that when I was dealing with a child.

I didn’t ask why he’d fought so desperately to beat me, only to suddenly become so meek.

He’d passed out without knowing what was going on, only to wake up with a choker around his neck.

Maybe he’d tried to take it off and couldn’t, and instinctively realized it was a restraint-type Sephira?

“First, let me ask you something. The stories about the Festival of the Dead going around the Gallery—they’re all lies, right?”

He fidgeted.

Doryeong wiped away his tears and finally managed to speak...