After spending a day shut away in her room grieving, Amelia emerged into the living room the next morning, looking disheveled, without even tidying her hair.

"Amelia, you're out of your room."

"Paulen..."

Amelia saw Paulen sitting on the living room sofa. He smiled at her, but she could tell at once that it was not his usual hearty smile. He was forcing it to hide his distress. The slime's abduction had come as a terrible shock to him as well as to her.

Amelia sat down beside him. After a brief silence, she spoke.

"I'm so helpless. The lich took Quivery away, and I couldn't... do anything. Even though I'm the Saintess, it blocked my holy arts so easily."

"No. You did everything you could, Amelia. I'm the pathetic one. Surely there was more I could have done back then. But all I did was watch."

"No! You were trying to protect me. If only I had more power. If I were strong enough for you to trust me and act..."

Each insisted that the other was blameless while reproaching themselves, until they fell silent again. It was then that Gracie came to visit and said she wanted to find the slime too, asking them to take her along when they went to the Holy City.

Her words brought a profound realization to them both. Nothing would be resolved if they simply sat there. Now was the time to act to get the slime back. They felt utterly foolish for having done nothing but sit around dejectedly until Gracie, who had spent far less time with the slime than they had, spoke up first.

"Gracie! Let's go to the Holy City together! We'll find Quivery, no matter what!"

"Miss Gracie! We're counting on your help!"

"Huh? Oh. Yes, o-of course!"

Gracie was flustered by the intensely trusting looks they suddenly turned on her.

A few days later, Gracie set off for the Holy City with Amelia and Paulen. Before leaving, she returned home to explain the circumstances and tell her family where she was going. They worried that she might overexert herself, but when she told them their funding was at stake, they gave her their wholehearted support.

As soon as they reached the Holy City, they were greeted.

"Welcome, Saintess Amelia, Paladin Paulen. The High Priests and Saintess Fresia are waiting for you."

Paladins were waiting for the two of them. News of the lich's appearance had reached the Holy City before anywhere else, so they had been awaiting the pair to hear a more detailed account.

"Who is the person behind you?"

"This is Miss Gracie, a mage who was at the scene with us. She will be attending as a witness."

"Understood."

Gracie followed them to the meeting room where the High Priests and Saintess Fresia were waiting. The eyes of the Great Church's eight High Priests, along with those of Saintess Fresia, who had once defeated the calamitous black dragon, turned toward the three arrivals.

"We have heard the news, Saintess Amelia. Paladin Paulen. Please give us a detailed account."

"Of course. I will speak on our behalf."

Paulen explained the course of events to the High Priests and Fresia. First, after observing the slime's unusual traits, Gracie, the mage accompanying them, had asked permission to write a paper about it. They had agreed, and once the first draft was complete, Brooks Besilza, the master of the Mage Tower, had verified it. The tower master had taken an interest as well and said he wanted to learn more about the slime. Then, during his examination of it, a magical accident had nearly occurred. At that very moment—

"The lich appeared."

After completely destroying the protective barrier and magic circle, the lich had taken an interest in the slime, remarking on its unusual mana. It had found fault with the tower master's beard, saying it disliked it, and cast a spell that removed it. Then it had vanished with the slime.

When they had heard the full account, silence settled over the meeting room for a moment.

"Paladin Paulen."

High Priest David was the first to break it.

"Did the lich truly withdraw after doing no more than that? Did it say anything else to you or the Saintess?"

"No. It only mentioned that it had followed some unusual mana and was surprised to find a Saintess and a Paladin there."

"Good heavens..."

"How could that be?"

"Was it truly a lich?"

The High Priests were bewildered, and understandably so. A lich had encountered a Saintess and a Paladin and simply passed them by! A lich was unquestionably undead. And what were the undead? They were the beings most hostile to the Church—its natural enemies, one might say.

Yet such an undead being—one that spoke human language, no less, the corrupted end of a mage—had shown no dramatic reaction upon seeing a Saintess and a Paladin? It defied common sense. If there was any explanation at all...

"Could the lich have decided that a mere Saintess was no match for it?"

"Can a lich be that powerful?"

"But otherwise, there would be no reason for it to react that way..."

"Saintess Amelia, what was its aura like? Was it that overwhelming?"

At the High Priest's question, Amelia recalled the encounter and answered.

"Its aura of death was certainly more intense than anything I'd ever felt. But as for exactly how powerful it was... I'm sorry."

"No, Saintess. You have nothing to apologize for."

"There is only so much one can tell by looking."

"Was there anything else that might help us gauge its strength?"

"... I launched a Holy Sword at the lich, but it blocked it with ease."

"Powerful enough to deflect the Saintess's Holy Sword so easily..."

"A lich is still a lich, then."

Although Amelia had almost no experience in actual combat, the High Priests knew what sort of Saintess she was. Her low self-esteem made her reluctant to go out except for her regular duties, yet she never neglected her efforts. She possessed holy power befitting her title and wielded holy arts capable of channeling it. The fact that her Holy Sword had been blocked was itself proof of the lich's strength.

As the High Priests discussed this among themselves, Saintess Fresia gently raised a hand, bringing their conversation to a halt.

"Amelia, Paladin Paulen. First, could you tell us what the lich looked like? I think we need to establish whether it is the same as a lich that appeared before or has different distinguishing features."

"Y-yes, Saintess Fresia! Well..."

Amelia immediately tried to picture the lich from memory.

"First, it was wearing a robe... and it had a skull for a head..."

She wanted to recall as much detail as possible, but it had been a month since the encounter. Her efforts to remember accurately and in detail only slowed her answer.

Then Gracie, who had remained silent until now, raised her hand.

"E-excuse me. I remember its appearance very well. If you give me paper and a pen, I can draw it right away."

"Truly?"

"You there, fetch a pen and paper at once."

"Of course."

A little later, the church member who had left the room returned with paper and a pen and handed them to Gracie. She immediately began drawing the lich from memory. The lich that had stolen the evidence for her paper. The lich that had stolen the funding that would feed her family. She had not forgotten what it looked like. Moreover, drawing magic circles was part of her daily life as a mage, so her drawing skills were quite good.

SCRITCH, SCRITCH.

With the paper against the meeting room table, Gracie sketched rapidly. A few minutes later, she had completed a likeness of the lich, focusing on its distinguishing features.

"It's finished!"

Gracie held up her sketch so everyone could see it clearly.

"Yes! That's what it looked like!"

"The resemblance is exact."

Looking at Gracie's sketch, Amelia and Paulen vividly recalled the lich they had seen a month earlier. A blue robe that looked weathered by many long years. A glow like blue flames where its eyes should have been. A skeleton wearing a crude, crownlike ornament on its head. It was unmistakably the lich they had encountered.

"So this is the lich..."

"It looks truly evil."

The High Priests frowned at the sketch, their wariness growing.

"..."

Saintess Fresia, however, was staring at the likeness with eyes wide in surprise.

'That's...!'

"Saintess Fresia? What's the matter?"

"Pardon? Well, it's nothing. It surprised me quite a bit as well."

"It is only natural that you would be surprised, Saintess Fresia."

"A lich has appeared for the first time in centuries, after all."

"Look at that evil countenance. Even someone like Saintess Fresia would naturally be startled."

The High Priests saw nothing suspicious in her reaction.

+++

The meeting adjourned not long after Gracie drew the lich's likeness. Amelia, Paulen, and Gracie needed time to recover from the long journey from the Mage Tower to the Holy City. The High Priests also needed to attend to their usual duties and make time for a full-fledged meeting.

While the High Priests returned to their respective duties and the three arrivals rested, Saintess Fresia wrestled with a troubling question in her room.

She took out the lich's likeness, which she had brought from the meeting room, and stared at it. She had been able to take it because they had decided to have Gracie draw a more detailed version later, then use a magical device to copy and distribute it. Fresia could not tear her eyes from the ornament on its head.

'This is...'

Fresia began retracing her memories. It had been during their journey to slay the black dragon. By then, their shared experiences had made them companions who could trust one another. One night, they had all been sitting around a campfire, chatting about nothing in particular.

["What are you all planning to do once we've slain it?"]

Everyone answered the question posed by Aldor Meyer, the human warrior who held the front line and would later be known as The Impenetrable Shield. Kachal Demft, the dwarf who would one day be called The Mighty-Armed Warrior, snorted as he spoke.

["Hmph. I'll go home and take a look at the weapons those iron-pounders are making."]

Fresia, already known then as The Saintess of Healing, spoke with a kindly smile.

["I, too, want to return to my home in the Holy City and lend a hand to those who need help."]

Nellin, who would be called The Starlight Archer, dug in her ear with her little finger.

["Same as everyone else. Back to the forest where the old lady is. What else would I do? Ugh, I'm already worried about the nagging."]

Finally, the human who would become known as The Mage of a Thousand Spells, Ventus Frail, spoke with a chuckle.

["I'll go back to the Mage Tower too. I'm too young for it now, but... if things work out, I might become its master! Oh, right. There's something I've been thinking of wearing if I get the position. Take a look."]

Ventus Frail conjured a head ornament on the spot and placed it on his head.

["Well? Doesn't it have the dignity befitting the master of the Mage Tower?"]

["Bwahahaha! Dignity, my ass! You're just showing off! Oh, my stomach!"]

Nellin clutched her stomach, roaring with laughter.

["Nellin! Is it really that funny?!"]

["What do you want me to do? It's hilarious!"]

["Hmm, the design's a bit crude. Aren't you going to set any gems in it?"]

At Kachal Demft's question, Ventus looked away.

["No, if I added gems, it would look like a crown. I feel like the royal family might find fault with that..."]

["I've had an audience with His Majesty myself, and I don't think you need to worry about that. His Majesty's crown isn't this crude and shabby. A few gems won't give him cause to complain."]

["Aldor! I put a lot of thought into this! Calling it shabby is too much!"]

["What do you expect me to do about the truth?"]

["Bwahahaha!"]

["Nellin! Stop laughing!"]

["Hehe."]

It was a memory of watching her boisterous companions with a smile. A memory from a time when her gaze had lingered particularly on the red-faced Ventus Frail. The ornament the lich wore was identical to the one Ventus Frail had made in that memory.

Fresia brushed her hand over the drawing of the head ornament.

'Ventus... could it really be you?'