I was led by the hand by Riona through the darkness, and finally managed to return to the light emanating from my classmates. Most of them wore expressions of relief, but only Atyura was nowhere to be seen.

Letis took Riona's hand.

“Homunculi are scary, but you’re not, Riona. So don’t make us worry. If you disappear, who’s going to train the Intelligence and Espionage Division? Not even Lili-chan can handle that, you know.”

“Yeah, sorry. I made you worry. Aah, well, see, El-tan and I were getting cozy in the dark, and it ended up taking longer than expected. It felt too good.”

…No, that’s terribly misleading.

Monica hurried over to Riona.

“U-Um… could you tell me a bit more about that…? L-Like, how exactly did you get a boy in the mood? Just for reference…”

“Eeh~? Mony-chan, you really wanna hear that~?”

Despite her words, Riona was grinning. Oujin was darting his eyes around nervously for some reason. Are his eyeballs going to be okay?

“Yes, please!”

“So, El-tan pulled on my uniform, trying to strip me by force, and I was dragged forward, and then we were all over each other, giving in to our desires and—Gyaah! Ow, that hurt!”

She was mostly telling the truth at first, but the second half turned into nonsense and was about to escalate, so I kicked Riona in the butt.

“Quit spouting nonsense.”

“No exaggeration allowed?”

“None. You should live a little more seriously.”

The male students, who had been listening with flared nostrils, all let out sighs of disappointment at once. Some sounded more relieved than disappointed.

“Tch, another Belzhein joke, huh?”

“Thank goodness… I thought a ten-year-old had beaten me to it.”

“Looks like I still have a chance.”

In response to those voices, Riona quickly fired back.

“Nope, not a chance! I’m all about El-tan!”

“No waaay…”

Is she really popular with a personality this messed up?

Void and Oujin are like that too, but I guess it’s because they’re all surprisingly caring.

Chatter and laughter filled the air. I hadn’t been particularly worried from the start, but as expected, Riona’s true identity didn’t seem to be a big issue for the members of Class One.

Still, no matter what kind of background Riona had, or what her true nature was, my stance toward her would not change. I doubt she wants pity, and I have my own path to walk.

Just then, the emblem on the weapons we received from the Juanere Company began to glow all at once.

“Ah…”

The sign that sunset was near. A retreat order from Lili.

Seneca raised her voice.

“Everyone, we’re pulling out. Team leaders, just confirm that all members are present. Once that’s done, Team One leads the usual retreat formation.”

The team leaders responded in unison.

I looked up at Seneca.

“Seneca, have Team Three bring up the rear. I’m a bit uneasy about the underground lake, but I want Void to pull back too.”

“Because of Atyura?”

“Yeah.”

Riona’s fine now.

Next, I need to hear what Atyura’s intentions were from Oujin and Void. Ideally, I’d have the insightful and decisive Seneca present as well, but she has a commander’s role to fulfill.

In terms of combat, with Seneca's command, Ilga, and Bernald around, even ogres shouldn’t pose much of a problem anymore.

“We’ll follow a bit later.”

“Got it. Just don’t fall too far behind. In case anything happens.”

“Understood.”

With Ilga at the front, everyone except Team Three began retreating toward the underground lake.

Having to pass through that underground lake again was a bit of a pain.

Once enough distance had opened up that we couldn’t hear Team Five at the rear anymore, we started walking, with Void leading the way.

Oujin asked Riona,

“No one minded, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You guys worry about the dumbest crap. Always, every time.”

Void spat bitterly.

“…Yeah.”

There was nothing more to say.

What Riona had truly been concerned about wasn’t the fact that she was a homunculus made from a corpse with intact organs and brain.

It was that her body could not hold a future.

Judging by their attitudes, Oujin and Void must have been genuinely worried. Still, the truth couldn’t be spoken—neither from my mouth nor Riona’s.

So, Riona apologized quietly. It was all she could do.

“Sorry. And thank you for worrying about me.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you and Eremia are both safe.”

If it were Miriola—who chose to lose her light in order to protect her heart—maybe she could save Riona’s heart as it is now. That’s what I think. But even that would only be possible if Riona were to tell her everything.

I can’t do anything. It’s frustrating.

I shake my head.

I have to get a grip already. Before I leave this dungeon today, there’s still something I need to find out.

“Void, Oujin. What did you talk about with Atyura after that?”

Void twisted his lips and spat.

“Just a sob story.”

“Huh?”

To summarize what Void and Oujin heard from Atyura:

The old man—Nereid—went mad after his daughter Atyura’s death.

He did the unthinkable. He dug up her grave, obtained a bone fragment, and from that day on, spoke to it every day. Even when it was still in a flask, before the brain was fully formed, he never missed a single day.

He talked about himself, about his daughter, about her life from birth to death. Trivial things. Everything. Day after day, he repeated the same stories.

As if it were the first time he was telling them.

When she was born, her mother died immediately. Illness.

Nereid held Atyura in his arms, lost and hopeless. But her tiny hands gave him strength, and he resolved to live on together with her.

At three, Atyura planted weeds she had picked into a flower pot and took care of them. She laughed innocently.

At four, she began to suffer from the same illness that took her mother. Nereid despaired at the thought of losing love a second time.

At five, she brought home a young dangerous monster. Nereid secretly disposed of it at night. When he lied, saying he returned it to its parents, Atyura gave a teary smile.

At six, while he wasn’t looking, she tried to cook and cut her hand with a knife. She said she wanted to cook for her father. He hugged her tightly.

At seven, when Nereid was nationally recognized for his work in magical alchemy, she celebrated from her bed. She could barely sit up by then.

At eight, the illness began to visibly torment her.

At nine, she spent most of her time in bed.

By the time she was ten, she could no longer walk. Despite Nereid’s best efforts using magical alchemy for treatment, she passed away in her sleep a few years later.

The homunculus in the flask quietly listened to all of this.

Even when it was just a lump of flesh, unable to form memories, it was enveloped in that gentle, soft voice, sinking into it.

When the homunculus took human form, it finally thought:

If only all those memories with Nereid had truly been my own.