What exactly was the relationship between these two?
Loki pondered this quietly.
In truth, it wasn’t a big deal that Ina regarded him as a sworn enemy.
If anything, it would be more unsettling if she had completely forgiven him.
Just like with Selulu.
Moreover, being enemies didn’t preclude them from being friends—putting aside the attitude of the witches as a whole, at least as the wielder of a sacred relic, Ina showed no intention of seeking revenge against him.
After all, she was planning to carefully keep the other half of the ring for herself.
By this logic, to some extent, he must have earned her forgiveness.
Consider it atonement; if Ina ever needed help in the future, Loki intended to do his best to assist her.
Putting that aside, with the witch’s beauty alone, a fiery defense in the name of a beloved wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
…Uh.
This must be Selulu’s influence—lately, he found himself involuntarily dwelling on all sorts of tangled thoughts. The old saying “a full belly breeds lecherous desires” probably summed it up.
Of course, Loki wasn’t some Sigma male; after all, as a normal human, it would be abnormal for him not to have any such desires.
It was just that he had a rather strict mental purity, unwilling to get involved with women who cost money, so he had never seriously considered those matters.
As for the girls around him…
None of them seemed quite right.
Either he had only known them for a few days, or he felt guilty around them, or they were the kind with whom even holding hands seemed unimaginable.
Perhaps this was his karmic punishment for the wrongs he’d done in the first half of his life; to this world, he was simply too normal.
Putting aside these distractions, Loki turned his gaze to the scenery along the street.
They were already quite far from the central district; not to mention that the three of them had taken a tram halfway through, the hustle and bustle gradually fading away, replaced by old row houses, single-story homes, and shacks.
Though the public facilities weren’t maintained like those in the city center, there was no sign of decay either—it seemed the residents of this neighborhood were doing their best to protect their homes.
This marginal area was not quite suburban; after all, the tram still operated here, but the people no longer gleamed like puppets; instead, a simple, familiar, and lively rustic charm emerged. Large buildings had ceased to be elegant art museums or stadiums, replaced by factories built from concrete and brick.
Yet no matter their status or height, in the face of the Sea of Souls, all were treated equally.
It had to be said that the factories in this world were not as ruthlessly exploitative as those during the Industrial Revolution of his previous life. Thanks to magic, efficiency had improved significantly, and with the Holy Church and the Empire’s official authorities working to prevent corruption caused by heretics infiltrating from the bottom ranks, the living conditions of farmers and workers were much better.
At least they were guaranteed fresh meals, their children basic education, and reasonable holidays.
As long as a terrifying external enemy like the plague existed, internal unity was inevitable.
Even the most stubborn, old-fashioned nobles had to let go of some of their profits just to keep their seats on expensive cushions safe—lest strange appendages suddenly grow and the whole family be burned to ashes by the Church’s monks.
…But if things could always remain so delicately balanced, humanity wouldn’t be human anymore.
There was a strange smell in the air, impossible to ignore.
“Weird.”
Loki glanced around.
Since earlier, there hadn’t been any temporary checkpoints manned by knights or city guards.
Logically, the inspections on the outskirts of Caesania should be even stricter than those in the central district.
After all, this area was a mixing pot of all kinds, with poor public security and underground gangs concentrated here.
It was both a home for ordinary people and a breeding ground for crime.
A casual inspection would surely find several people destined to rot in jail.
And no one wanted those free points?
“Oh, we’re almost there.”
Selulu reached out and gave Ina a firm pat on the back, instantly rousing the downcast witch.
At the same time, she nudged Loki, signaling him to look toward an area not far away, surrounded by trees.
That was the branch office of the Tribunal.
“Cheer up, Witch. The road ahead won’t be easy.”
This was no heroic moment of mutual respect between rivals—it was pity from the victor toward the defeated.
As long as the witch recognized her place and didn’t entertain unrealistic illusions, Selulu could afford to be gentle with her.
Ina paused, then flushed crimson with anger, clutching her chest with both hands.
“W-why did you suddenly pat my chest…?!”
“Huh? Chest? But I clearly patted…”
Selulu tilted her head in confusion, then held her hand up and suddenly looked shocked, as if even she hadn’t expected what had just happened.
…Such a convincing act.
But Loki immediately saw through the malice hidden in her eyes.
“Oh dear… sorry about that, I accidentally mixed up front and back.”
The Saint apologized decisively, though no one present heard a hint of genuine remorse.
Not wanting Selulu to get too cocky, Loki gently tapped her forehead.
“Ow!”
“Don’t joke about things like that, Selulu. Ina, don’t take her words too seriously.”
At Loki’s reassurance, Ina straightened her chest proudly.
“I’m not taking her seriously, Loki. I just didn’t expect a Saint from the Church to be so rude—like the spoiled daughter of some nouveau riche.”
In response, Selulu simply chuckled lightly, offering no further comment.
The three pressed forward.
No one appeared to stop them—indeed, there was no one at all.
The moment they stepped into the forest, a cold chill slowly swept from all directions; the wind rustled through the branches, creating a soft, whispering melody.
Compared to five years ago, nothing had changed.
Loki had indeed considered the possibility of returning here.
Deeper in the woods, a monastery enclosed by walls came into view. The cross symbol of the Holy Church stood atop the tower, glinting in the sunlight.
“Judging by your expression, Loki, you’ve never been back here before, have you?”
Selulu asked softly.
“…Why would I come back here for no reason? To scare the big shots at the city council into wetting themselves?”
Setting aside everything else, Loki did have feelings for the Hand of Truth.
A feeling of wanting to map out the entire organization.
“Uh, isn’t that a Holy Church monastery? What does it have to do with the Hand of Truth’s headquarters?”
Among the three, only the witch had no connection to this place, so she asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Heh… just like boys hide those kinds of books under their beds, adults hide their unspeakable secrets beneath respectable things. This monastery was built for that purpose.”
Selulu explained.
She sniffed, revealing a somewhat intoxicated expression.
“But nowadays, it’s hard to say if there are any proper monks left here… Hah, this thrilling feeling, the urge to tear some trash apart, it’s simply irresistible.”