"Why don't you contact his family?"
Perhaps awed by the beauty of the girl before them, the registrar was exceptionally friendly.
"No, there's no need."
Yet the girl smiled, her face devoid of even a trace of sorrow.
"I'll accompany him through the last stretch of his journey."
"I'll be right here."
Today Calls for a Feast
"Ah-choo—!"
"Huh, did you catch a cold? Have some soup."
"My stats mean I can't catch a cold."
"But you keep sneezing."
"..."
"Damn it, did I get nerfed?"
"Can even a cold take me down now?"
On a deserted island, a man's puzzled voice rang out.
"That's why you shouldn't rush things."
The beautiful woman held a bowl of tea-whisked soup decorated with what looked like a plump, pig-headed cat made from osmanthus powder, bringing it to Russell's lips.
"Ah—"
"Open up."
Holding the spoon between her index finger and thumb, she spoke as though coaxing a child.
"...I have hands."
Russell looked up, baffled.
"But aren't you sick?"
The girl's azure eyes held confusion—or perhaps guilt.
Russell did not look well.
In fact.
He truly wasn't.
In the original plan, the price Elysia paid to alter Finality's Cocoon was being completely absorbed and assimilated.
The frequency with which Russell altered Finality, meanwhile, was astonishingly high.
Even with a shortcut available, he still had to pay a price.
And those prices could have been avoided.
The girl lowered her eyes.
Aside from this nearly self-harming method of changing its directives.
In the next era, having an outstanding Herrscher inherit the authority was also a way to restrain Finality.
That approach was far gentler.
If Russell had not happened to know "certain" people from the Previous Civilization, there would have been no reason for him to come specifically to the Previous Civilization.
If