Telling the Truth

More than a month had passed since that terrifying Artificial God had become food for the sea demons at the end of the White Water River, and the grass growing over the grave of The End of All Things was probably nearly a hundred meters tall by now...

In every sense, that was quite realistic.

Beltira appeared to have awakened, but she was undoubtedly no longer a normal human—her body had fused with this enormous tree, mutating inside and out. This had affected her thoughts and language ability: when she spoke, a deep, hoarse voice mingled with her own. She spoke slowly, her expression blank, making one unable to help but think of plants.

Gawain looked at her. Though the situation before him had somewhat exceeded his initial expectations, he had finally gained the chance to speak face-to-face with this "old acquaintance." "This is an unfortunate situation, Beltira—do you have anything you want to say to me?"

Beltira quietly watched Gawain. After two seconds of silence, she slowly said, "Outworld... Wanderer. I want to speak with you privately."

Gawain frowned, then instructed those beside him after a brief moment of thought, "Go outside the hall and stand guard. Amber, you too."

"You sure?" Amber immediately widened her eyes. "That woman looks awfully strange right now. Who knows what kind of scheme she might have..."

"Whatever schemes she has, she probably can't use them in her current state," Gawain said, waving a hand. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing—I'm curious what exactly she wants to say."

Amber thought about it and reluctantly agreed. As she led the others out, she said, "Fine, then. Be careful."

Before long, the soldiers in the hall had withdrawn outside under Amber's lead, and Bard left with them. Once only Gawain and the half-plant Beltira