Chapter 58
When another battle the party had been thrust into finally ended, one of their companions suddenly spoke.
“Prince Emin, you can go home now.”
The prince looked bewildered as he turned to his companion, Eldona, the Witch of Trials.
The witch tilted her head as if she couldn’t understand his gaze, then began examining him with concern.
“Have you forgotten where home is? There’s a golden palace in your country’s capital that you can be proud of.”
“Don’t treat me like a dementia patient. And I don’t have a room in that palace. What do you mean, go home? We’re standing in the middle of a labyrinth.”
Crackle, crackle. The prince’s gaze turned toward the oppressive darkness.
Beneath the orb of light created by the witch, monsters turned to ash the moment they appeared.
The witch murmured a short incantation and waved her hand, then spoke in a weary voice.
“I’m saying you won’t need that scimitar anymore. All that remains is to pray the door opens and the Hero walks out. Or did you want to take part in the victory parade, too?”
The witch was telling him that the prince had nothing left to do.
The prince didn’t smack his lips rudely, but he stared at the white door before him with displeasure.
If the Hero, who had gone on alone, could just pass the Demon King’s final trial, the party would fulfill everything written in the prophecy.
They—the Hero’s party—would have completed their entire journey.
Moreover, according to Eldona, by this point the prince had fulfilled every obligation he owed the Hero, whose blessing he had guaranteed.
Unless he planned to meet the Emperor and shake his hand at the victory parade, the prince had no reason to remain in the Empire.
But the prince couldn’t shake the bitter expression from his face.
At his feet lay the corpse of a giant cyclops, cut down by his sword.
It had been a formidable foe, with the giants’ trademark toughness and high resistance. But by now, the prince didn’t even need to fight an enemy without the means to put up the slightest resistance—the witch had turned them all to ash. He hadn’t imagined this would be his final battle.
Ifnan, the Observer, noticed where he was looking and explained with a smile.
“That was the trial of Olytilos, the last cyclops. Perhaps it wasn’t quite worthy of being Your Highness’s final battle.”
The prince frowned, and the witch said,
“Observer, there won’t be a problem if the Third Prince leaves now, will there?”
“No. The Hero is still undergoing the trial.”
“There you have it. Farewell.”
The witch turned away from the prince and looked into the endless darkness.
All that remained was to wait until the Hero emerged through the pure-white door behind them.
The witch was saying she would endure the endless wait alone, never knowing when the Hero would return.
The prince wrapped his arms tightly around the witch’s shoulders.
“…What are you doing?”
“I guess I’m a little more reluctant to leave than I expected.”
“You don’t know when the Hero will return.”
“We won’t be bored if we’re together. The scimitar might be out of a job, though.”
“…Idiot.”
The prince lifted Eldona’s chin.
Ifnan watched the two of them with a dry smile.
**
“And Ifnan…”
“W-Wait a moment!”
“Hm?”
Tarmin hurriedly interrupted the prince.
The prince looked puzzled, then fell silent in thought for a moment. At last, he smiled and said,
“What, Enyaril? You didn’t tell him about Ifnan either?”
“N-No, that’s not it. Well, I didn’t know about that either, but that’s not what I meant.”
Tarmin interrupted him again and took a breath.
Just as blood and flesh were about to fly and the dungeon’s profound secrets be revealed, a bittersweet scene had suddenly appeared, leaving him unable to collect himself.
Enya, who had been burying her face in Tarmin’s arms, also lifted her head and looked at the prince in bewilderment.
Tarmin asked,
“Your Highness, were you and the witch… involved?”
“Well, isn’t this the time to talk about the Hero?”
…
The prince tried to avoid the two of them staring at him so intently, but eventually sighed and explained their relationship.
“Good grief… Yes. It couldn’t be helped. I was in the full flush of youth, and there was a beautiful, refined woman standing right in front of me—as long as she wasn’t fiddling with lizard carcasses or bones and calling them magical catalysts. The two brats who followed us around seem not to have noticed to the very end, though.”
The two youngsters exchanged a look.
They’d never been separated during the journey, so when had the two of them found time for a secret rendezvous?
Tarmin, who had been absent for part of the journey, took it in stride, but Enya looked utterly confused.
Could it have been in Hadia? No, perhaps Sebik?
Seeing the two of them whispering, the prince chuckled and said,
“That’s all in the past. We broke up.”
“Really? It must not have ended well. Because you were from different countries?”
Eldona was a witch who served the Emperor, while Emin was the third prince of Akhraba.
Even as Tarmin said it, though, he thought it was a rather ridiculous reason.
If the two had truly wanted to be together, there weren’t many people who could have stopped them.
“Because there was quite a big age gap.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“I’m an ordinary human, aren’t I? A witch is a witch. We live on different timescales.”
Different timescales?
Tarmin opened and shut his mouth, then could only scratch his head without saying anything.
He had seen a deep loneliness in the prince’s face.
The prince paused for a moment, then drained his glass.
Thinking there must be a story behind it, Tarmin turned away, only to see Enya gazing up at him quietly from his arms with an inscrutable expression.
Come to think of it, hadn’t he and Enya overcome even more than that?
…Was Enya thinking the same thing?
Though she was right there before him, Tarmin felt an inexplicable chill and shivered.
He pulled her slender waist tightly against him.
Their bodies, which had drifted apart during the conversation, pressed snugly together again, and a faint sigh escaped Enya’s lips.
“Haaah…”
Seeing her like that, Tarmin suddenly felt a mischievous urge.
He stealthily placed a hand on her belly, and Enya noticed at once and glared at him.
“Hey, Tarmin!”
“Haha. Um, Enya, who is that Observer? I’m curious.”
He pretended not to notice, grinning shamelessly as he asked.
Enya didn’t answer; she grabbed the arm around her waist and tried to pull it away.
“C-Cut it out and let me go.”
“No. I told you it was your punishment, didn’t I?”
“Ah, seriously…”
Enya squirmed around, then gave up and turned her head away.
Tarmin kneaded the soft belly he’d managed to claim and whispered in her ear.
“Um, Enya. Now that I’m touching it, your belly seems a little chubbier than last time—ow!”
That was a slip of the tongue.
Enya had pinched the back of his hand hard.
Tarmin yelped and pulled his hand away, then stared at Enya in disbelief.
He’d teased her on purpose, expecting a cute little protest, and figured she might punch him—but he’d never imagined Enya would pinch him.
“Ow, ow! That hurts! Hey, Enya, are you allowed to do that? Can you pinch me?”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Aren’t you disqualified as a Hero? Argh!”
“I don’t care! Just go die! Will you move that hand or not?”
Tarmin refused to withdraw the hand kneading her belly, while Enya pinched him as hard as she could, as if daring him to endure it.
After their tussle, Tarmin finally retreated, eyes watering.
She stopped pinching him too, but Enya turned away from him as if sulking.
Enya panted softly and answered his earlier question.
“Hah… Ifnan is the being who watches to see whether we complete our pilgrimage.”
“A being?”
“Yeah. They aren’t human, but they take human form. They have chestnut-brown hair, are of average height, and always wear a smile. You’d know if you saw one, but anyway, there’s this unsettling feeling that they aren’t human, you know? They say 'Do not be afraid'.”
Tarmin watched her carefully and stealthily placed a hand on Enya’s narrow waist as she explained, gesturing with her hands.
It seemed all right to touch her up to the waist without her permission, but when he put his hand on her belly, she pinched him again without fail.
Only after quite some time did the prince’s story resume.
**
Depending on magical light made time feel distorted.
Had they been in the darkness for hours, or perhaps days?
The monsters stopped appearing at some point, too.
In the utter silence, Ifnan the Observer suddenly announced,
“The Demon King has fallen. Congratulations.”
The messenger from the heavens spoke in a calm tone, and so the shock came very slowly.
The prince had been sitting dazed against the wall of the labyrinth, but now lifted his head and looked at Ifnan.
The witch was already lying in his lap, asleep from exhaustion.
“Congratulations? Is this the end?”
“Yes.”
Ifnan, who had been standing still, tilted their head as if they didn’t understand his expression, then added an explanation.
“Humanity has won this game. The Arbiter will soon meet with humanity’s representative.”
The prince hurriedly called out to Ifnan, who had started walking away after giving that explanation.
“Wait! The Hero hasn’t returned yet!”
“I don’t know. That isn’t a condition for victory.”
The prince gritted his teeth.
This strange being judged only the outcome and had no interest in whether anyone lived or died.
Even after the Observer left, the white door remained unopened for a long time.
*****