Ruger raised an eyebrow at the nine Jillian witches who had appeared before him without anyone noticing. Counting the short-haired fake, there were exactly ten.
"Oh? You actually came to offer your blessings? Then I can reluctantly allow you to stay here..."
After standing there blankly for a long while, the short-haired Jillian finally returned to normal and continued from where she had left off.
It was as though she could not see the real Jills standing beside her. She kept talking to herself, going on and on—from her visions for the Fairy Kingdom to her longing for the outside world, along with an inexplicable joy—sighing as she spoke without pause.
"Yes, you were not lying. I can feel your goodwill and concern for me. You seem very happy too. Since that is the case... I grant you the right to remain in the city. I invite you to attend my wedding and offer me your blessings, though I do not know what a wedding actually is..."
The short-haired Jillian kept talking to herself. At last, she looked toward Ruger and the others with a satisfied smile, as if she were still dreaming of her plans.
Ruger looked at Wizard Zorn.
"Of course. We will obey whatever you grant us, and we will do whatever you invite us to do," Zorn said in a deep voice.
Or rather, they had already done it, Ruger thought.
He guessed that the Jillian witches she had mentioned were the witches they had encountered earlier. The strongest among them, that elderly man, had already been properly dealt with by Wizard Zorn.
Hearing Zorn's words, the short-haired Jillian nodded in satisfaction.
Watching her smug gesture, then looking at the nine Jillian witches standing nearby like ghosts and nodding their thanks to them, Ruger found the