A sacrifice would be inevitable.

Judging so, I sheathed my short sword, picked up the wakizashi that had rolled at my feet, and placed it in my waist sheath as well.

Void clicked his tongue as he detached his Bundi Dagger, and Oujin also returned his sword to its scabbard.

“Thank you…”

Atyura spoke quietly.

If the brief exchange just now had been Atyura’s full strength, then Class One, Team Three could manage. Even if it wasn’t her full strength, with Void and Oujin, we could still hold our ground.

But we couldn’t protect the other teams. Especially not with Riona in that state.

Next to Letis, who had collapsed weakly, Riona was still staring blankly into Atyura’s eyes.

With a delay, everyone disarmed themselves.

Atyura bowed her head again. When she lifted it slowly, her expression was one of relief.

“...But before we talk,”

Atyura stepped toward Riona. Slowly, as if to show she held no hostility.

I stepped between Atyura and Riona. Void and Oujin were already flanking her.

But Atyura—

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt her.”

She whispered this while looking into my eyes, then leaned in close to Riona, as if about to kiss her. She stared into Riona’s widened eyes with her own equally wide gaze.

“Your name?”

“I—I’m… Riona Belzhein…”

“...Belzhein… I knew it…”

For a moment, they remained close enough that their noses nearly touched.

Eventually, Atyura stepped back.

“...Poor child…”

“Poor? Do you know something about me?”

“Riona Belzhein is dead.”

I pressed Riona’s stomach to move her back and glared up at Atyura.

For some reason, I felt panic. It was the look on Atyura’s face as she looked at Riona.

“I know the official report from the Republic. There were no survivors in the ‘Westwill Incident.’ But she was taken in and raised in a facility within the Republic that trained intelligence operatives. It’s more convenient to use someone who officially doesn’t exist for intelligence and sabotage work.”

That’s right. Just like Miriola.

The people of the slums, considered even lower than commoners, usually have no registry. In other words, they’re treated as non-existent. Some do have registries, but the babies they have often don’t. That’s the slum reality.

That’s how Miriola was able to completely become “Juanere,” an intelligence officer.

It’s the same with Riona. Making it seem like the Belzhein family, the lords of Westwill, had perished in the “incident” made her more useful as a spy. Needless to say, as an assassin too.

The pieces all fit together.

I understood that. Even so, I couldn’t help but feel panicked.

“...That’s not true.”

“Stop. Don’t speak. This isn’t the time for that.”

“But…”

I reached for the hilt of my wakizashi again.

“Don’t make me say it again!!”

Those unaware of the situation looked confused.

Atyura and I stared each other down for a while. Eventually, she shook her head slightly and gave a small nod.

“Understood.”

I lowered my hand from the hilt. Unpleasant sweat beaded on my back and forehead.

Void and Oujin had probably picked up on it. Their eyes were on Riona. And if those two noticed, then of course, Riona herself must have as well.

Her eyes were already vacant.

Then, after a few steps—she pushed past me and approached Atyura.

“Am… am I a homunculus…?”

“Riona!”

A stir ran through me—and even more so through all of Team One.

We already knew that Riona’s perceptiveness was beyond human. If, as Atyura said, the daughter of Westwill’s lord, Riona Belzhein, had truly died in the “incident,” then what exactly was the girl standing here now?

But the “Westwill Incident” happened long before the Republic began using homunculi in real combat. That memory is seared into me—Blythe.

“That’s impossible. You are Riona Belzhein.”

“Please, tell me… Right here, right now…”

Riona took another step closer to Atyura. She reached out and grabbed the slender girl’s shoulders, bringing her face near.

“Look at me properly, Atyura!!”

Atyura looked to me as if asking permission.

At the same time, Riona looked at me, as if clinging to me for support.

She wanted the truth. I couldn’t stop her.

Waiting for me to avert my gaze, Atyura finally began to speak.

“You’re not the same as us homunculi. But you also can’t be called fully human.”

She paused, exhaled quietly, and then raised her gaze to meet Riona’s eyes once more.

“Nereid—my father—when perfecting homunculus technology, struggled most with the soul. After years of research, he was able to create bodies from cultivated bone fragments, but the soul would not take hold.”

“...What are you saying…?”

“If corpses with lingering memories, not just bones, hair, or nails, could’ve been used, then the technology could’ve been put to use long before Nereid ever perfected it. Of course, even then, performance would’ve been far below today’s homunculi… But that’s not the point.”

I muttered in a hoarse voice.

“So it’s possible to turn a living human into a homunculus…”

A stir rippled through the group.

Of course it did. The very thought was horrifying.

“Yes. Initially, it seems that was the direction of the project. But even before they could ask for public support, the Republic government itself couldn’t approve such a plan. So it was abandoned.”

That was the true nature of the facility where Riona had been raised as a spy. That’s why, no matter how many children died, they were never replaced. Once they used up everyone, that would be the end. That was the plan.

And those people—knowing she didn’t have a human body—played with Riona as they pleased.

—How could they do something so cruel…!

I clenched my molars in anger. Tears leaked from my closed eyelids.

And yet—

From above my head came a lighthearted voice.

“Ah… I thought so, after all…”

Riona had a bitter smile on her face.

“I kind of felt it when Atyura called me. —Sorry about that, I guess.”

No one, not even Atyura, said anything. There was nothing to say.

Still wearing that bitter smile, Riona nodded a few times, then turned her back to us. She pointed in a random direction and spoke.

“I’ll go think for a bit on my own. When you’re done talking with Atyura, come call me. I’ll be around somewhere.”

“Wait, Riona—”

“El-tan, see you later~”

She waved lightly, then clasped her hands behind her back and walked off into the darkness as if going for a stroll. The magic lantern on her waist had been extinguished.

Her back disappeared into the dark.

I tried to follow—but hesitated.

Atyura was still here. I needed to hear her out. And if she turned hostile, Void and Oujin alone might not be enough.

Thinking that, I stopped mid-step. And then—someone pushed my back.

Stumbling a few steps and turning around, I saw Void waving his hand dismissively like chasing off a stray dog.

“Go on, get going already.”

“But—!”

“I’m saying I’ll leave the annoying part to you.”

Oujin stood with arms crossed, speaking calmly.

“Trust us and leave Atyura to us. More importantly, go. If you don’t, something irreversible might happen. Hurry, Eremia.”

“—!! ...Thanks!”

I extinguished the light of my own magic lantern and ran into the darkness.

Riona probably didn’t want anyone to see her face right now.