Akan stood faithfully outside the door with his hammer on his shoulder, his tall body tightly barricaded there, like a human-shaped door, his round eyes staring unblinkingly into the darkness that he could not see. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

The ground shook for a while, and there was a rumbling sound around him, but Isis never came out. He was a little worried, a little scared, and every now and then he looked up to see if a stone would hit his head, and wondered if it was time to go in and see what was going on. But Isis told him to stay here, and he had to stay here...... Isis is such a powerful dragon, listen to him right.

...... But he was really a little worried.

The shaking stopped, and he probed his head for a while, still undecided.

When he hesitated, there were no footsteps or a word of greeting, and the young man with blond hair and blue eyes suddenly emerged from the darkness, startling Akan a lot.

He instinctively picked up the hammer, but fortunately recognized Iss in time, and couldn't help but laugh, and wanted to squeeze over to give his friend a warm hug.

“...... Do you want to get stuck here?" Iss angrily shoved his chest back away, "Get out of the way!"

He looked like he was angry—he always looked like he was angry, but he had a smile in his blue eyes, and Akan could see it, so he wasn't scared at all.

He almost hit someone when he was pushed out. The soft-spoken housekeeper stepped aside, a relieved expression on her round face.

Akan doesn't remember when she came at all...... The housekeeper is also very good.

“...... Is anyone hurt?" asked Is.

The housekeeper shook her head, her gaze darting quickly over his right hand.

In his right hand, Is's held a black, grotesque-looking object that at first glance looked like a charred branch...... But the branches don't have that dull, metallic sheen.

"It's ......"

Iss glanced down, suddenly a little embarrassed.

He didn't know how to explain it. In any case, nominally he is no longer the master of this place, but not only has he swaggered into the labyrinth that only the heirs of the Chrissian family can enter, but he has also brought out what the labyrinth has guarded for thousands of years.

Monson looked at his stiff face and smiled slightly.

"There's nothing you can't enter, there's nothing you can't take from Christenburg, young master. She whispered, "That's Madame's order." ”

.

Standing in front of Vala's tomb, Isis still clutched the remnant sword.

In the sun, the hilt of the sword was still black. It wasn't rust, it wasn't the color of the metal itself, it was more like it had been thrown into the fire and burned for a long time, so long that the black ash could no longer be washed away, and only in some subtle places, the original dark gold could barely be seen.

The hilt of the sword can only be held with both hands, it should have been a heavy giant sword, but at least from the point of view of the hilt, it is not exquisitely made, and you can only feel a circle of thin, non-slip notches to the touch, and the sword is only a straight horizontal, without any other decoration, but there is a strange-shaped groove at the end of the hilt, as if it has been smashed and deformed...... It looks like there must have been some gems, but the "gems" were a bit out of step with the sword's rustic, rugged style.

It's not just the hilt of the sword that's weird. After all, his vision was limited in the dark, and in the light of the sun, Iss could see at a glance that the black, remnant blade was the same as the white crow's broken knife with a pure gold handle...... They were supposed to be one.

The first time he saw the knife, Iss had a strange feeling. Clutching the hilt of his sword at the moment, he was always inexplicably irritable and restless, as if he was holding something that he couldn't control and couldn't grasp...... Even though it looked dilapidated, there was a chill that crept into his palm.

It's cold, and it's scorching. It was like some kind of silent cry rushing in his blood, but he couldn't hear it clearly.

Danger - that was the only thing he could be sure of. He didn't dare to put it anywhere, so he could only keep it with him all the time.

He hoped that Vala would not be angry that he was still holding a sword in his right hand while he was looking at her with a flower in his left hand...... No, of course she won't.

There was a bouquet of roses in front of Vala's tombstone that had not yet completely withered, and Isis silently put down another bouquet - the flowers that Valla had planted with her own hands were still in full bloom, but they were also the last roses of summer.

He stood for a long time, never knowing what to say...... So he said nothing.

.

Alan returned to Kriesburg the next afternoon. Hearing the news, Iss rushed into the hall and stopped unconsciously.

He knew he was headstrong. But when he saw Allen's full head of gray hair, he realized more strongly how willful he really was.

He said goodbye and never looked back, rarely thinking about whether Alan would be worried about it. Alan Cavo is a well-informed man, and probably knows better than he himself what he's been up to these days...... But that doesn't mean he can be so confident that he writes even the only letter in a perfunctory way.

He hesitated to take a step, and Alan had to walk over on his own.

...... He didn't use crutches.

Ise's eyes widened when he found this, surprised and puzzled.

There's no way Alan's severed leg can grow back - not even Scott can't.

But Alan did walk steadily in front of him with his legs, smiled at his curious gaze, and tapped his right leg.

There was a dull sound under the light fabric, which sounded like wood.

"A gift from a friend. He said lightly.

In fact, he still walks with a bit of a limp...... But that's already good.

The heartfelt joy made Iss realize that he was still giggling when he was giggling...... I still can't say a word.

“...... I guess this isn't a gift for me?" Allen's gaze quietly swept over his right hand.

Isis was slightly stunned, his face changed, and he looked down at the broken sword in his hand.

It was only now that he realized that something was wrong - the sword was dangerous, and he couldn't just leave it alone...... But there was no need for him to keep him in his hand all the time, as if he was going to swing his sword against the enemy the next moment.

He even slept with it all night and had lunch with it...... Monson tried to say something several times, but he didn't think there was anything wrong with it.

So...... The problem is serious.

Under Allen's calm gaze, he tried to suppress a stronger and stronger desire in his heart, gritted his teeth and slowly let go of his hand, allowing the remnant sword to fall to the ground.

The sweaty palms still had the cold touch that could not be warmed, and the whole body seemed to be empty, and it was suddenly much more relaxed.

. (To be continued.) )