The Ageless Witch continued her maddened howls within the Spirit World.
The sheer force of her power and the terrifying level of mystery she possessed meant that even with the prison suppressing her, countless powerful and horrifying Spirit World creatures in the surrounding region fled in panic.
Yet after fleeing, they would cautiously return once the witch calmed down slightly.
Because to Spirit World creatures, the intense emotions radiating from the Ageless Witch were as intoxicating and irresistible as Soma wine itself.
Sweet.
Addictive.
Impossible to resist.
Because of this, enormous numbers of Spirit World entities constantly gathered around the shattered prison, and the closer one approached the prison itself, the more powerful and terrifying those creatures became.
At the same time, as the Ageless Witch's screams grew increasingly frenzied, several mocking laughs echoed in from beyond the Spirit World itself.
They too were Great Existences cast into exile.
However, they had been banished even farther away, so far that even the Spirit World could only barely touch the edges of their domains.
Within the Spirit World and beyond it alike, incomprehensible things and unseeable gods existed everywhere.
Only the Material World could barely be considered a haven for intelligent life.
The Great Existences mocked the witch's futile struggle.
A prison built with the life of a Saint was not something that could be shattered through a few screams and curses.
Of course, their mockery was rooted less in ridicule and more in jealousy.
Jealousy that the chains binding the witch were far "smaller" and "simpler" than their own.
After all, the one who sealed the witch away had merely been a Saint.
But the ones who exiled them had been true gods.
They could foresee the day the witch's prison finally collapsed.
But they had no idea when they themselves might once again descend upon the divine kingdoms they had lost.
Thus, their mockery was both a symbol of their status and proof of their helplessness.
Meanwhile, Mozo suddenly sneezed several times in succession.
Apparently, somewhere unknown, some bastard was cursing and slandering him.
Mozo merely coughed a few times and stopped thinking about it.
After all, the number of people and gods who hated him had never been small to begin with...
After patting his cheeks, Mozo pulled the automaton core out from his backpack.
Looking at the crimson core, he found the situation somewhat unbelievable.
As far as he remembered, when these imitation Golden Legion automatons had first been created, they should have possessed only basic combat capability.
After all, their intended role had never been warriors but maintenance units.
And yet this automaton had not only resisted the erosion of time, avoiding the eternal slumber that had claimed the rest of its kind, but had also remained active until the present day while retaining remarkably powerful combat capabilities.
It had not seemed especially impressive during its confrontation with the Shadow Mage.
But this thing had managed to scatter Audrey's entire four-man team.
Under normal circumstances, a prepared four-person Beyonder squad should have been capable of dismantling it.
Yet not only had they failed, Audrey herself had even been branded as a slave...
And there was also the matter of the core itself.
Mozo distinctly remembered that automaton cores were supposed to be blue.
Yet this one had become crimson.
This was definitely not a sign of energy depletion, because the core still brimmed with tremendous power.
Mozo could not explain the phenomenon.
His only rough guess was that during the endless passage of time, the automaton had somehow acquired an extraordinary supernatural characteristic.
Unfortunately, he had no way of determining exactly what kind of transformation it had undergone.
Still, Mozo knew how to make use of it.
The cores of elven automatons were among the pinnacle achievements of elven craftsmanship.
As long as one possessed a suitable body, the core could integrate with it perfectly.
Mozo planned to acquire an appropriate automaton body once he had enough spare money in the future and allow it to continue serving him.
There should be automaton markets outside the Special District.
If he remembered correctly, empty automaton bodies alone were not especially expensive, since the true value of an automaton always lay in its core.
Especially an ancient core that had undergone a beneficial mutation like this one.
Something like this was valuable beyond measure.
If he had not happened to save Miss Windsor as well, the authorities absolutely would never have handed this thing over to him.
Oh right.
Saint Night Festival is only a few days away. I should probably start preparing for it.
Saint Night Festival was the grand festival of the entire world, the day dedicated to the countless Holy Spirits.
It was essentially this world's equivalent of New Year's.
---
The next morning, Mozo woke up early, washed up, and prepared to head to the university library.
His future life likely no longer required worrying about money.
Still, studying itself remained a genuinely enjoyable thing.
As he descended downstairs, Mozo saw his landlord pouring a huge pile of candy into glass jars.
Those were treats prepared for the children during Saint Night Festival.
Unlike Halloween from his previous life, children in this world did not dress as ghosts to ask for candy.
Because actual "ghosts" genuinely existed here.
People avoided such things desperately. Who would dare encourage children to imitate them?
However, during Saint Night Festival, children were allowed to form groups and visit the homes of adults to ask for sweets.
On that day, even the children of slums and poor districts could openly knock on the doors of great nobles and receive luxurious candies they would normally never have the chance to taste.
This custom was protected by both tradition and law.
You were allowed to refuse giving candy.
But you were absolutely forbidden from hitting or verbally abusing the children.
Otherwise, the Church of Victory and the courts would both invite you in for a "friendly conversation."
At that thought, Mozo unconsciously revealed a faint smile.
Because the origins of this tradition were actually deeply connected to him.
Though more than anyone else, the custom originated from a certain goddess.
The protector of all children in the world.
Dreams and Night.
Ceremony and Thresholds.
Glory and Victory.
All things within this world belong to Your divine kingdom, Your glory, and Your will.
You are the sole salvation of we lambs.
O exalted Goddess of Victory!
The Goddess of Victory, holder of the Uniqueness of the Victory Pathway, also known as the War God Pathway.
She governed authority over war, night, dreams, ceremonies, gateways, and more.
A goddess who had already been active since the Age of Gods.
She loved victory and the grand ceremonies held after triumph.
At the same time, she adored children and would quietly protect their beautiful dreams at night.
Thus, she was also known as the guardian of all children.
Legend claimed that whenever children felt fear, praying to the Goddess of Victory would summon her angels and warriors to protect them.
And the Saint Night Festival candy-giving tradition also originated from her.
Back when the Goddess of Victory still walked the mortal world, she would personally distribute delicious free candies to children during Saint Night Festival.
After she ascended to her divine kingdom, her followers continued the tradition.
Eventually, it gradually became a universal custom shared by every race and nation in the world.
Because children were the future.
"No matter who suffers, children must not."
That famous saying from the Church of Victory had originally been spoken by Mozo himself to the Goddess of Victory.
Seeing Mozo approach, the landlord stopped what he was doing, grabbed a few candies, and tossed them toward him.
"They're not especially fancy, but my daughters love them. They say they're really sweet, so give them a try."
Catching the candies, Mozo replied with an amused smile:
"Sir, I'm legally recognized as an adult."
The landlord laughed and shook his head.
"I'm forty-two years old this year. How old are you?"
Mozo scratched his head awkwardly, thanked him, then left the apartment and headed toward the university.