Parting the forest, Shichen and the others strolled after the lone black-clad figure sprinting ahead.
"Shichen, are you sure he'll run back to his master?" Emilia asked.
"Of course. What, you don't trust me?"
"It's not that… is he really that dumb?"
"The Witch Cultists aren't exactly stupid—more like… brainless."
"What do you mean?"
"They only know how to follow orders. The operation failed, so of course he has to go report."
"I see… Shichen, you sound like you understand the Witch Cult very well."
"Betty told me," he said with a smile.
"…," Beatrice pouted but didn't expose the deflection. Always dumping it on her.
"No wonder," Emilia nodded. She knew how vast Beatrice's knowledge was—four centuries of life and a post as librarian of the Forbidden Library tended to do that.
"There are probably all kinds of obscure records in that archive," Emilia murmured.
"Still, I'm thinking of founding a Witch Cult of my own," Shichen said, amused.
"Huh? Why would you do that?"
"Since you keep calling yourself a 'witch,' if I start a cult, we can devote it to you, can't we?"
"Ugh, you're awful," Emilia huffed, rolling her eyes.
"Shichen!"
Listening to the flirting behind him, Rem—riding piggyback—couldn't stand it anymore. She tightened her arms around his neck and pressed her fullness into his back to remind him she existed.
"What is it, Rem?" Shichen asked.
"Hmph~ Rem is jealous!" she sniffed.
"Jealous, huh? What should we do about that?"
"Rem needs compensation. Rem did something big just now and Shichen didn't even give a reward. Rem is very unhappy."
"A reward? You've got some nerve. You lost control and got cocky—if I hadn't been watching you, who knows how badly you'd have been hurt. What would I do if my heart got broken over that?" he scolded.
"Uu…" Rem's bravado wilted.
"Still want a reward?"
"N-No…"
"That's better. I was planning to punish you anyway."
"Punish?"
"You were disobedient. A spanking to teach you a lesson."
"Spanking… mm~" Rem didn't look scared—in fact, she looked… expectant.
"Rem?" Ram noticed something off.
"Sis, what is it?"
"It's nothing…"
Probably just my imagination.
They chatted idly and followed the fleeing shadow at an easy pace. Shichen had already marked him; there was no chance he'd get away.
The skinny silhouette flitted through the trees at incredible speed, like the wind. It seemed guided, never hesitating, threading through an unmarked forest as if on a path only he could see.
Soon he vanished from view.
Shichen and the others kept walking, and before long they reached the place where the shadow had stopped. A mossy rock wall loomed ahead, high enough they had to crane their necks.
"Shichen, did we take a wrong turn?" Emilia asked. The wall had no opening—no way forward unless they climbed.
"Nope." Shichen shook his head, then glanced at Beatrice beside him. "Betty, are you alright with this?"
"Relax. He's long since stopped being the person I knew," Beatrice said evenly.
"I see." Shichen nodded.
"Shichen, Betty—what are you two talking about?" Emilia asked, puzzled.
"Emilia, steel yourself for what's ahead," Shichen said simply.
He stepped forward—still carrying Rem—placed his palm against the rock face, and—
Vmm—!
The slab he touched vanished. A dark passage yawned open.
"What is—?!" Emilia realized there was more here than met the eye.
"Let's go." Shichen led them into the tunnel.
The air inside was bitter-cold, the hush oppressive; only their footsteps broke the quiet. After a while, the tunnel remained bright—white crystals embedded in the stone gave off a steady glow.
"Shichen…" Rem spoke up, her expression turning solemn.
"What is it?"
"There's a witch's scent."
"Mm. Don't worry."
"Mm!" Rem's grin returned, brilliant.
Soon they reached the end of the tunnel. The crystals shone brighter, lighting a broad chamber—it was more plaza than cave. In the center stood the malice of this world itself.
A skeletal-thin man in a black clerical robe stood beside the last surviving black-clad cultist. He was short, his body little more than skin and bone, with a lifeless bowl of dark green hair. Frail enough to die from a slap—except for his eyes. Those eyes gleamed with madness.
"Oh my~"
He stared at them, fascinated, head slowly leaning to the right as his neck bent, gaze roaming shamelessly over them.
"This is… this is… how very interesting~"
"Shichen…" Emilia pressed close and gripped his clothes, face blanching. Everything about the man was wrong.
"Do you recognize him?" Shichen squeezed her hand, sharing his warmth.
"Recognize… who is he?" Emilia asked blankly.
"Right." He'd almost forgotten—she'd slept for a century, and she'd been so young then, with memories sealed away.
"Juice…" Beatrice murmured, eyes steady on the man. Once, he'd been her teacher—at least, before her reset. Now, her heart was calm. He wasn't him anymore—just a familiar face draped over something else.
"No reaction…?"
Seeing Shichen utterly unruffled, the man suddenly stuffed his own right fingers into his mouth and bit down—crunch, crunch—grinding them to pulp.
"You… wouldn't happen to be Pride?" he asked, bloody smile stretching.
"Shichen…" Emilia flinched at the grotesque act. Shichen only held her hand and watched, calm as ever.
"Huum. Seems I won't get an answer."
He didn't take offense. Pulling his mangled fingers from his mouth, he pressed them to his forehead as if remembering something.
"Oh, right~ I nearly forgot—how rude of me. I didn't even announce myself."
He bowed with slow, exaggerated courtesy, lips curling into a chilling smile.
"I am an Archbishop of the Witch Cult—keeper of Sloth: Betelgeuse Romanée-Conti. Hee-hee-hee!"
His giggle was shrill, needling the ear, echoing off stone again and again. Blood dribbled from his mouth; he didn't care. He smiled like a lunatic—because he was.
"Ah~ how ridiculous! This is—this is—this is, this is, this is, this is—so very amusing. In truth, in truth in truth in truth in truth—! My whole head is… trembling~"
He babbled like a madman.
"Shichen, he—?" Emilia asked, face contorted.
"Don't mind him. That's the Witch Cult—every last one a lunatic."
"Is it? Then what's he doing? Why come back here?"
"Who knows—maybe a short circuit in the brain."
Betelgeuse had come to the border for Emilia—but Shichen didn't see any need to explain.
Fwoom—
He slid one hand from under Rem's knee, turned his palm up. Golden fire surged forth—alive, warm, filling the chamber.
"How pretty…" Emilia breathed at the sight of the holy flame.
"It's not just pretty~," Shichen said, and flicked the flame toward Betelgeuse.
"Oh my~ what is this?" Betelgeuse cocked his skull-thin head, curiously watching the golden fire streak toward him. He made no move to defend.
The holy fire swelled just before him, enveloping him in an instant.
"Gyaaah—!"
His scream rang around the cavern.
~~~
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