Ymir's soul had returned to rest in the World Tree of Wilhelm, and the news from Starer City proved the Plague was real. Annan had just one question left.
"Why are you helping us?"
The information Greyfur Rat had brought wasn't particularly useful. What mattered was her gesture of goodwill. As a member of the Ratfolk Clan's privileged class, her cooperation with humans was like a minister making contact with an enemy nation of his own accord—though it certainly didn't compare to what had happened in the Rikaner Kingdom.
Well, put that way, the King of Rikaner deserved to die even more.
Greyfur Rat's crimson eyes, luminous as amber, held nothing but Annan's reflection. "Because I admire humans, love Magic Films, and worship... you."
Annan's heart beat a little faster.
"You're too kind, beautiful lady. I..." A look from the side reminded Annan that Olmedo was still there. He switched to a more formal reply. "Thank you. If Ymir trusts you, then so do we. Please allow me to be your host. I'd like to invite you to stay, and I can tell you... how I met Ymir."
"That would be wonderful!"
Greyfur Rat bounced with delight, her gray fur dancing with excitement. She looked no different from a young girl who had just watched Five Hundred Years of Terror.
The Maid Abby led their Ratfolk guest to the living room to wait.
Olmedo offered her opinion. "You were acting just like a little Succubus boy."
"Succubus is one thing, but what's with the 'little boy'?"
"Sorry for the wait."
Before long, Annan came into the living room, refreshed by a Cleaning Spell, his short black hair soft and tousled.
"I don't know what Ratfolk like. What would you like to eat?"
"Could I try fried potatoes? Like the