Ava re
glowing with gentle light. "This crystal contains a fragment of Avalon Evernight's essence. Should Tempest ever face a threat beyond its capacity to handle, shatter it, and aid will come."
He offered the sphere to Rimuru, who accepted it with evident surprise. "This is... unexpected. Thank you."
"Alliances of equals benefit all involved," Ramiris replied simply. "Though I suspect Tempest's resourcefulness will rarely require outside assistance."
As the formal addresses concluded, the banquet shifted to celebration—music, feasting, and the kind of relaxed interaction that follows successful diplomacy. Throughout the hall, farewells were exchanged, promises to maintain connections made, and final memories created on this last evening.
Epilogue: New Horizons
Dawn broke over Tempest with unusual clarity, the first rays of sunlight catching the crystalline structure of Avalon Evernight as it prepared for departure. Citizens gathered in the central plaza, many bringing small gifts or letters for the maids who had made particular impressions during their stay.
The pavilions had already been dismantled, returning to whatever conceptual space they occupied when not manifested. The maids stood in formal procession, each having changed from their more casual daily uniforms into the full ceremonial attire of Avalon Evernight—outfits that somehow managed to be both recognizable as maid uniforms while simultaneously conveying divine authority and otherworldly power.
Rimuru and his inner circle had gathered for the final farewell, exchanging last-minute words with Ramiris as preparations for departure concluded.
"Your hospitality has been exemplary," Ramiris acknowledged, now dressed in his most formal regalia—midnight blue fabric containing actual constellations, his mantle of pure white authority flowing behind him. "Tempest has earned a place of honor in Avalon Evernight's memory."
"And your visit has transformed our federation in ways we're still discovering," Rimuru replied sincerely. "Knowledge shared, techniques taught, perspectives broadened—the benefits will continue long after your departure."
Nearby, more personal goodbyes were taking place. Veldora was exchanging final book recommendations with Arcueid, while Benimaru sought last-minute clarification on combat techniques from Scáthach. Even Shion had developed a grudging respect for Queen Gilgamesh, the two strong-willed women sharing a formal but genuine farewell.
The most emotional goodbye, however, involved Milim, who bounced between excitement for her new journey and sadness at leaving her friends.
"I'll visit ALL THE TIME!" she promised Rimuru, her maid uniform somehow making her enthusiastic gestures look elegant rather than chaotic. "Ramiris says I can use special pathways between dimensions once I learn proper navigation!"
"Just... try not to arrive in the middle of important meetings," Rimuru requested with fond resignation. "And maybe give a little warning next time?"
"I'll try!" Milim agreed, though her expression suggested this might be one lesson still in progress. "And I'll show you all my new powers once I master them properly!"
"Looking forward to it," Rimuru replied, only slightly apprehensive at the prospect.
As the farewells concluded, Ramiris stepped forward to the center of the plaza, his golden eyes scanning the gathered crowd one final time.
"People of Tempest," he addressed them, his voice carrying effortlessly to every ear. "Your realm has provided a most satisfying cultural exchange. Know that from this day forward, Avalon Evernight counts the Jura Tempest Federation among its allies."
With a gesture both elegant and precise, he opened a massive portal above the city—not the simple golden doorway used for local transportation, but a vast cosmic aperture that revealed glimpses of swirling reality beyond normal perception.
"Maids of Avalon Evernight," he commanded formally. "We return to our realm."
The maids moved into perfect formation around their master, each taking her ceremonial position with practiced precision. Milim, still new to the protocols, was subtly guided into place by Tiamat's gentle hand, her excitement barely contained behind a façade of formal dignity.
"Until we meet again, Demon Lord Rimuru," Ramiris offered a final farewell. "May your federation prosper through the wisdom it has gained."
With these parting words, light enveloped the group, and they ascended toward the waiting portal. Avalon Evernight itself—the magnificent floating city that had hovered above Tempest these past weeks—began to shimmer, its very substance seeming to fold into the cosmic gateway.
The citizens of Tempest watched in awe as both the maids and their celestial home were drawn into the portal, the edges of reality bending gracefully around them. At the last moment, Milim turned back, waving enthusiastically to her friends below, her new role as Berserker of Joy already being fulfilled.
Then, with a final pulse of golden light, the portal closed, leaving only the morning sky above Tempest—clear, ordinary, and somehow emptier than before.
For a long moment, silence held the gathered crowd. Then, gradually, conversation resumed, citizens turning to each other to discuss what they had witnessed and how the extraordinary visit would be remembered in Tempest's history.
Rimuru stood gazing upward, the crystal sphere Ramiris had gifted him glowing softly in his hand. "Well," he said finally to his gathered ministers, "that was certainly the most interesting diplomatic exchange we've ever had."
"Indeed," agreed Diablo, who had observed the entire visit with analytical care. "Though I suspect it won't be the last we see of Avalon Evernight."
"Especially with Milim as part of their court now," Rimuru nodded, a smile forming. "Something tells me interdimensional visits just became a regular part of Tempest's future."
As they turned to begin the work of returning to normal operations, Rimuru couldn't help but take one last look at the empty sky. The floating city was gone, but its impact remained—in knowledge shared, in techniques learned, in perspectives shifted.
And somewhere beyond conventional reality, Avalon Evernight continued its eternal journey through the multiverse, now with tales of Tempest to add to its vast collection of experiences—and one enthusiastic Demon Lord among its ranks of divine maids.
Avalon Evernight: Eyes Upon the Sanctuary
Chapter 1: The Watching Throne
Between the moments of reality, where time flows like tributaries of a great river, Avalon Evernight drifted with unhurried purpose. The magnificent city of marble and starlight existed in a folded space—technically present in the physical world but operating on a dimensional frequency that rendered it invisible and intangible to mortal perception.
Upon his throne of white gold, Ramiris lounged with casual elegance, one leg draped over the armrest as he observed the scene displayed before him. Rather than the traditional scrying pool used by magicians of lesser realities, his viewing medium consisted of fragments of reality itself, captured and displayed like living artworks in frames of conceptual energy.
"Fascinating," he murmured, golden eyes reflecting the images of struggle playing out below. "This reality operates under such delightfully twisted rules."
The frames showed various perspectives of a snow-covered landscape centered around what locals called the Sanctuary—a hidden village surrounded by a magical barrier that trapped half-bloods within its boundaries. Human conflicts, witch conspiracies, and the peculiar phenomenon of one young man's ability to reverse time through death played out like theater scenes for his amusement.
"What particularly interests you, Beloved King?" inquired Tiamat, approaching with silent grace. She carried a goblet of morning nectar, the now-familiar start to Ramiris's day regardless of which reality they occupied.
"The looping nature of causality centered around that one unremarkable human," Ramiris replied, accepting the goblet with a grateful nod. "He dies, he returns, he tries again—a perfect metaphor for mortal determination in the face of overwhelming forces."
"The one called Subaru Natsuki," Tiamat observed, following his gaze to the image of a black-haired young man currently engaged in heated argument with a silver-haired half-elf. "His soul bears unusual marks—trauma layered upon trauma, yet somehow maintaining structural integrity."
"Precisely what makes him worth watching," Ramiris agreed, sipping the nectar appreciatively. "Most mortals would have shattered mentally after experiencing death even once. This one has endured it repeatedly."
The maids of Avalon Evernight had settled into their new observational routine smoothly after departing Tempest. Their floating citadel now hovered invisibly above the Sanctuary, positioned in a pocket of folded space that rendered them undetectable even to the most powerful entities of this reality.
Queen Gilgamesh entered the throne room, her crimson eyes narrowed in mild disdain. "This world's 'treasures' are barely worthy of cataloging," she reported, having spent the previous day assessing the reality's magical artifacts. "Though the Witch Factors present some conceptual interest. Primitive but effective embodiments of abstract principles."
"Not every reality develops the same sophisticated understanding of conceptual manifestation," Ramiris reminded her indulgently. "What they lack in refinement, they often compensate for in raw effectiveness."
The queen sniffed dismissively but didn't argue the point. "The half-elf girl is attempting the first trial again," she noted, gesturing toward one of the reality fragments showing Emilia entering a stone structure. "Her previous failure was rather pathetic."
"Yet instructive," countered Ramiris. "Emotional barriers often prove more insurmountable than physical ones. Her fragility regarding her past is... relatable, in its way."
Queen Gilgamesh raised an elegant eyebrow at this unexpected empathy but held her tongue. She had learned long ago that her master's apparent casualness often masked deeper observations.
Their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of their newest maid—Milim bounded into the throne room with characteristic enthusiasm, her pink-tinged uniform somehow making even her exuberant movements appear graceful.
"Supreme Monarch!" she called excitedly. "I've been watching the scary mansion with the murder lady like you asked! She's SUPER strong for this reality, but still like, baby-level compared to us!"
"Ah, you refer to Elsa Granhiert, the Bowel Hunter," Ramiris nodded, unbothered by her informal report style. "And your assessment of the mansion's defenses?"
"Pretty good for normal people but super easy to get past if you're me!" Milim reported proudly. "The little drill-drill girl tried really hard to sense me, but I used that concealment technique Void Shiki taught me and stayed completely hidden!"
"Excellent application of your training," Ramiris approved, causing Milim to beam with pride. "The Great Spirit Beatrice presents an interesting study in contracted existence. Her library exists in a dimensional fold not entirely unlike our own, though far more primitive in execution."
Queen Gilgamesh made a small sound of disapproval. "The Berserker of Joy requires more rigorous instruction in proper reporting protocols. This casual delivery is hardly befitting a maid of Avalon Evernight."
"Yet it conveys the essential information with admirable enthusiasm," Ramiris countered with a wink at Milim. "Different communication styles serve different purposes within our court."
The queen sighed but relented, recognizing the futility of trying to reshape Milim's nature too drastically. The newest maid had made remarkable progress in many areas, but formal dignity remained an ongoing challenge.
Void Shiki materialized silently from the shadows, her presence so subtle that even the other maids sometimes failed to notice her arrivals and departures. "The Witch of Greed attempts to perceive us," she reported in her characteristically soft voice. "Her consciousness, anchored in the barrier between life and death, reaches for anomalies in the fabric of reality."
"Can she detect us?" asked Queen Gilgamesh with sudden concern.
"No," Void Shiki replied simply. "She perceives the absence of perception—the knowledge that something exists beyond her knowing. It... frustrates her deeply."
Ramiris chuckled, clearly amused by this development. "Appropriate, for one whose defining sin is insatiable desire for knowledge. To sense a presence beyond her grasp must be exquisitely irritating."
He rose from his throne with fluid grace, approaching the largest reality fragment that displayed an aerial view of the entire Sanctuary. "I believe we've observed enough to understand this reality's basic parameters. It's time to deploy our court more systematically."
The maids gathered around him, awaiting instructions with varying degrees of formality. Even after joining Avalon Evernight, Milim remained the least ceremonial, bouncing slightly on her toes with barely contained excitement.
"This reality presents several points of interest," Ramiris explained, gesturing to different locations within the fragment. "The Sanctuary with its barrier and trials, the mansion under attack by assassins, the Witch Cult operating from the shadows, and this curious youth with his death-reversal ability."
He turned to his assembled court, golden eyes gleaming with purpose. "We shall divide our attention accordingly. Tiamat, Void Shiki, and Scáthach will monitor the Sanctuary's trials. Queen Gilgamesh, Kali, and BB will observe the mansion situation. Arcueid, Morgan, and our newest addition, Milim, will track the movements of the Witch Cult."
"And you, Dancing King?" inquired Kali, her bloodthirsty aura barely contained beneath her formal maid attire.
"I shall focus on our most interesting subject—Subaru Natsuki and his curious ability to rewrite fate through death," Ramiris replied, a smile playing at his lips. "His connection to what this world calls the Witch of Envy warrants personal attention."
"Will we remain solely observers?" asked Scáthach, her crimson spear materialized and resting casually against her shoulder. "Or do you anticipate... intervention?"
Ramiris's smile widened to something more mischievous. "For now, we watch and learn. This reality's struggle has its own elegant choreography that deserves appreciation." He paused, golden eyes glinting with something unreadable. "But should events take a particularly interesting turn—or should opportunities for appropriate amusement present themselves—limited interaction might be... entertaining."
Milim could barely contain her excitement at this prospect. "So we might get to fight someone eventually? The scary murder lady or the witch cult people?"
"Patience, Berserker of Joy," Ramiris counseled, though his tone held more amusement than reproof. "The most satisfying interventions require perfect timing. For now, observe with the diligence you've been practicing."
"Yes, Supreme Monarch!" Milim agreed, making a visible effort to contain her enthusiasm to appropriate levels. "I'll be super stealthy and report everything important!"
"See that you do," Queen Gilgamesh added with imperial authority. "And remember the protocols for emergency communication should anything truly unusual occur."
As the maids dispersed to their assigned observations, Ramiris returned to his throne, reclining with casual elegance as he focused on the fragment showing Subaru Natsuki. The young man was currently making his way through the snow toward the tomb where the trials took place, his expression determined despite the obvious fear in his eyes.
"Such fascinating determination," Ramiris mused to himself. "To face death repeatedly, to carry the memory of each failure into each new attempt... the psychological burden alone should have crushed him long ago."
He leaned forward slightly, golden eyes narrowing with genuine interest. "What drives you, Subaru Natsuki? What power allows your consciousness to thread the needle of time? And how long before the weight of accumulated deaths finally breaks you?"
With a casual gesture, he adjusted the viewing fragment to follow Subaru more closely, settling in to observe this curious mortal's struggle against forces beyond his understanding—blissfully unaware that beings far beyond even the Witches now watched his every move with divine curiosity.
Above the Sanctuary, invisible to all, Avalon Evernight waited and watched.
Chapter 2: Unseen Observers
The Great Tomb stood sentinel at the edge of the Sanctuary, its ancient stones bearing silent witness to countless trials. Within its cold chambers, Emilia faced her past once more—confronting memories she had long suppressed, struggling against the emotional barriers that prevented her from claiming the qualifications to free the Sanctuary's residents.
She was unaware of the three observers who stood in the very same chamber, existing just slightly out of phase with conventional reality.
"Her mental fragility is pronounced," observed Scáthach, her crimson eyes watching dispassionately as the half-elf crumpled to her knees, overwhelmed by visions of ice and destruction. "The trial exploits psychological weaknesses with remarkable precision."
"It is not merely a test but a crucible," Tiamat noted, her maternal gaze softening as she watched Emilia's struggle. "Designed to forge strength through confronting one's deepest wounds."
Void Shiki remained silent, her empty blue eyes fixed not on Emilia but on a point beyond conventional perception—the boundary between the physical trial and the metaphysical space where the Witch of Greed administered it.
"She senses us," Void Shiki finally murmured. "Not our presence specifically, but the void in her knowledge where we exist. It... distresses her greatly."
Indeed, within her own realm beyond conventional life and death, Echidna—the Witch of Greed—frowned in deep concentration. Something interfered with her perfect observation, creating blind spots in her awareness that should not exist. It was as if portions of reality itself had been redacted from her perception—an impossibility that contradicted her nature as the embodiment of knowledge.
Back in the physical chamber, Emilia's trial concluded in failure once more. As the magic released her from its grip, she collapsed unconscious to the stone floor, tear tracks still wet on her cheeks.
"The cycle repeats," noted Scáthach with clinical detachment. "This marks her fourth failure at the first trial."
"The barrier constraining her memories serves a protective function," Tiamat observed thoughtfully. "Forcing them open too quickly creates psychological fracturing. A gentler approach would yield better results."
"The witch's design prioritizes efficiency over compassion," Void Shiki commented, her voice barely above a whisper. "Knowledge gained through trauma burns deeper than knowledge gained through grace."
Their observation was interrupted by the arrival of Subaru, who rushed to Emilia's side with obvious concern. The young man gathered the unconscious half-elf into his arms, his face a mixture of frustration and determination.
"His devotion is admirable, if somewhat misguided," Scáthach observed. "He believes force of will alone can overcome fundamental obstacles."
"A common mortal misconception," agreed Tiamat. "Yet occasionally, such determination achieves the seemingly impossible through sheer persistence."
As they watched Subaru carry Emilia from the tomb, Void Shiki's attention shifted suddenly, her empty eyes narrowing slightly. "We are no longer alone in our observation."
The other two maids tensed imperceptibly, their senses expanding to locate the intruder. There, at the edge of the chamber, a transparent figure had materialized—the faint outline of a woman in witch's attire, her features indistinct but her curiosity palpable.
"Echidna," identified Scáthach softly. "The Witch of Greed has manifested a partial presence to investigate the anomaly in her perception."
"She cannot detect us directly," Tiamat confirmed. "But she senses the void where her knowledge should be."
The three maids remained perfectly still, existing in their folded pocket of reality as the witch's projection moved through the chamber, searching for whatever disrupted her perfect observation. Her frustration was evident even in her translucent form—the embodiment of insatiable curiosity unable to satisfy her defining hunger.
"Fascinating," whispered Scáthach. "Even in death, her nature compels her to seek knowledge."
"It is the inversion of Master's authority," observed Void Shiki with rare insight. "Where he embodies absolute certainty, she represents endless questioning. Opposite aspects of conceptual power."
After several minutes of futile searching, Echidna's projection dissipated, returning to her domain beyond the barrier of death. The maids exchanged meaningful glances, recognizing the significance of this development.
"This requires reporting to the Supreme Monarch," decided Tiamat. "The witch's awareness of anomalies in her perception may accelerate her plans."
"I shall convey our observations," offered Void Shiki, already fading into the shadows between realities. "Continue monitoring the half-elf and the trial chamber."
As Void Shiki departed, Scáthach and Tiamat returned their attention to the tomb, where magical energies continued to swirl in patterns invisible to conventional perception. The trial awaited its next challenger, unaware that beings from beyond its reality assessed its mechanisms with divine detachment.
In another part of the Sanctuary, Ramiris observed Subaru with growing interest. The Supreme Monarch had concealed his presence entirely, existing adjacent to physical reality while following the young man's determined path through the snow-covered village.
"Your burden is visible to those with eyes to see," Ramiris murmured, though Subaru couldn't possibly hear him. "Each death leaves its mark upon your soul—scars accumulated across timelines that never came to be."
There was something genuinely intriguing about this unremarkable human who had somehow gained the ability to rewrite fate through his own death. Not through any inherent power or special lineage, but through what appeared to be a cosmic accident—or perhaps a witch's twisted blessing.
Ramiris watched as Subaru gently placed Emilia in her bed, arranging blankets around her with tender care before stepping outside to confront Roswaal—the mysterious mage whose manipulations drove many of the Sanctuary's events.
"Fascinating," Ramiris commented to himself as the two men engaged in tense conversation. "The mage plays puppet master while believing himself the ultimate strategist, unaware that his own strings are being pulled from beyond."
The intricate web of manipulations presented an elegant puzzle—Roswaal orchestrating events according to his mysterious gospel, believing himself the master planner, while forces beyond his comprehension used him in turn. It was the kind of multilayered deception that appealed to Ramiris's appreciation for complexity.
His observations were interrupted by Void Shiki's silent materialization beside his concealed position.
"Report," he instructed without taking his golden eyes from Subaru's increasingly heated confrontation with Roswaal.
"The Witch of Greed has become aware of perceptual anomalies," Void Shiki informed him quietly. "She cannot detect us directly but senses the void in her knowledge. Her frustration is... pronounced."
"As expected," Ramiris nodded thoughtfully. "A being whose defining trait is insatiable curiosity would naturally be disturbed by information beyond her reach. Has she altered her approach to the trials as a result?"
"Not yet," Void Shiki replied. "But her attention now divides between administering the trials and investigating the anomalies. This may create... opportunities."
A smile curved Ramiris's lips, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Indeed it might. The Witch's distraction could prove advantageous for our young death-returner, though he remains unaware of our influence."
He considered the situation for a moment, then made a decision. "Continue observation without interference for now. However, should the Witch attempt to locate us more aggressively, you have my permission to leave... subtle hints of our existence. Nothing direct—merely enough to intensify her frustration."
"As you command, Lord of Silence," acknowledged Void Shiki with the barest hint of anticipation in her typically empty expression. The opportunity to match wits with a being revered as the embodiment of knowledge clearly appealed to her.
As she departed, Ramiris returned his attention to Subaru, who had stormed away from Roswaal in evident frustration. The young man now stood alone at the edge of the village, his breath forming clouds in the cold air as he stared up at the night sky.
"Look all you want, little returner," Ramiris mused, invisible and inaudible to the struggling mortal. "You'll see nothing of Avalon Evernight, though we hover directly above you. Some knowledge remains beyond even those who defy death itself."
With casual grace, Ramiris shifted his observation point, moving through folded space to follow Subaru as the young man made his way back toward the tomb, clearly intent on attempting the trial himself once more.
"Your determination borders on madness," Ramiris observed with genuine appreciation. "How many times will you die before accepting the limitations of your borrowed power, I wonder?"
The question hung unanswered in the space between realities as the Supreme Monarch continued his observation of Lugunica's most unusual resident—a seemingly ordinary young man caught in an extraordinary loop of death and rebirth.
At Roswaal's mansion, far from the Sanctuary's barrier, another drama unfolded under equally attentive observation. Queen Gilgamesh, Kali, and BB maintained their concealed presence as Elsa Granhiert, the infamous Bowel Hunter, prepared for her assault on the manor and its inhabitants.
"Such primitive bloodlust," Queen Gilgamesh commented with aristocratic disdain. "No refinement whatsoever in her approach to killing."
"Yet effective within the constraints of this reality," countered Kali, her own bloodthirsty nature recognizing kindred spirit in the assassin's methodical preparations. "Her technique displays instinctive understanding of anatomical vulnerabilities."
BB bounced slightly in midair, her usual exuberance contained but still evident as she monitored the magical defenses of the mansion. "The bounded fields are actually quite clever for this reality's limited understanding of dimensional folding! Primitive but creative in their application!"
The three maids observed from their position in folded space as Elsa coordinated with her accomplice—a childlike being whose monstrous nature belied her innocent appearance. Their planned assault on the mansion represented one thread in the complex tapestry of schemes surrounding Subaru and his allies.
"The little spirit in the library presents the only meaningful resistance," noted Queen Gilgamesh, her crimson eyes assessing tactical considerations with military precision. "Though her contract limitations severely hamper her effectiveness."
"Ooh, but her library is super interesting!" BB interjected enthusiastically. "It exists partially outside conventional space-time—a primitive version of conceptual architecture. I could improve it with just a few adjustments to its fundamental parameters!"
"We observe only, Architect of Avalon," Queen Gilgamesh reminded her sternly. "The Supreme Monarch has not authorized modifications to this reality's structures."
BB pouted but didn't argue, returning her attention to the mansion's magical defenses with slightly diminished enthusiasm.
Kali moved closer to the edge of their concealed observation point, her predatory instincts drawn to the imminent violence. "The assault begins soon. The maid with the oni heritage shows promising combat potential—she might actually survive the initial encounter."
"Rem," identified Queen Gilgamesh with surprising precision. "Her sister's absence creates an interesting asymmetry in the defensive capabilities of the household."
"Absence?" questioned BB, tilting her head curiously. "Oh! You mean how everyone's memories of the pink-haired one were eaten by that gluttony person! I detected the conceptual space where she should exist—it's like someone cut a person-shaped hole in reality!"
"A crude but effective implementation of existential erasure," Queen Gilgamesh acknowledged with reluctant appreciation. "Though lacking the elegance of true conceptual manipulation."
Their observation continued as night fell over the mansion, with Elsa and her accomplice moving into position for their attack. The manor's defenders remained unaware of both the imminent threat and the invisible observers assessing their chances with divine detachment.
"Should the battle prove one-sided, do we intervene?" inquired Kali, her expression revealing her hope for a negative answer. The Commander of Combat clearly enjoyed witnessing struggles without participating in them herself.
"Our instructions were clear," Queen Gilgamesh replied firmly. "Observation only, unless the Supreme Monarch determines that intervention serves his purposes."
BB sighed dramatically. "But it would be so easy to adjust the probability factors! Just a tiny nudge to the mansion's defensive parameters..."
"No adjustments," repeated Queen Gilgamesh with imperial finality. "We observe the natural progression of events as they unfold."
As Elsa made her final preparations to breach the mansion's outer defenses, the three maids settled into their observation roles—Queen Gilgamesh analyzing tactical developments with military precision, Kali appreciating the imminent violence with professional interest, and BB monitoring magical fluctuations while barely restraining her desire to "improve" the local reality.
Above them, invisible in folded space, Avalon Evernight maintained its silent vigil, its divine residents watching the mortal struggles below with varying degrees of interest and detachment.
Deep in the forests surrounding the Sanctuary, members of the Witch Cult moved with practiced stealth, their movements purposeful despite the apparent chaos of their organization. Unbeknownst to them, three sets of eyes watched their every move from the imperceptible boundary between conventional reality and the folded space of Avalon Evernight.
"They're super creepy with those weird robes and stuff," whispered Milim, making a face as she observed the cultists establishing positions around the Sanctuary's perimeter. Despite her typically boisterous nature, she had maintained perfect concealment—a testament to Void Shiki's effective training.
"Their devotion lacks proper foundation," observed Morgan, her fae magic allowing her to sense the twisted bonds connecting the cultists to their object of worship. "They serve a fragmented entity whose very nature rebels against coherent veneration."
Arcueid studied the cultists with predatory interest, her crimson eyes tracking their movements with casual precision. "They smell of madness and death," she noted. "Their connection to their witch has corrupted them on a fundamental level."
The three maids maintained their observational perimeter, each focusing on different aspects of the cult's activities. Milim, despite her youth and enthusiasm, had proven surprisingly effective at covert surveillance—her natural combat instincts translating well to tactical assessment.
"The gospel books they keep checking are super weird," she reported, watching a cultist consult a black tome with fanatical attention. "They've got writing that changes and stuff, but it's all... wrong somehow. Like it's being written by something broken."
"Primitive prophetic devices," Morgan confirmed with the authority of one well-versed in fate manipulation. "Imperfect reflections of possible futures, filtered through a shattered consciousness. Unreliable at best, actively misleading at worst."
Arcueid's attention shifted suddenly, her predatory instincts alerting her to a new presence approaching the cultists' position. "Someone comes," she whispered. "Not one of them, but... connected somehow."
They watched as a figure emerged from the trees—a young man with white hair and an outfit matching the cultists', yet somehow setting him apart. The others immediately showed deference, some falling to their knees in his presence.
"That's their leader for this mission," Milim identified quietly. "I heard the others call him 'Gospel Bishop' when I was watching earlier."
"Petelgeuse," Morgan named him, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the magical signatures swirling around him. "Or rather, the entity currently using that name. The soul inhabiting that body is not its original owner."
"Possession?" inquired Arcueid with professional interest.
"Of a sort," Morgan confirmed. "Though more permanent than conventional spiritual hijacking. The Witch Factor he contains allows him to transfer his consciousness between compatible vessels."
Milim wrinkled her nose in disgust. "That's super gross! Body-stealing is cheating!"
Despite her childish phrasing, her assessment wasn't entirely inaccurate. The maids continued their observation as Petelgeuse addressed his followers, laying out plans to infiltrate the Sanctuary once the barrier weakened—a contingency they had prepared for based on their gospel's predictions.
"Their timing aligns with the trial completions," noted Morgan with professional assessment. "They anticipate the barrier's dissolution following the half-elf's successful trials—though their gospel seems unaware of her repeated failures."
"Should we report this to Supreme Monarch?" asked Milim, her sense of duty momentarily overriding her fascination with the cultists.
"Not yet," decided Arcueid. "Their plans remain preliminary, and they pose no immediate threat while the barrier holds. We'll continue observation until they make a definitive move."
The cultists dispersed to their assigned positions, maintaining a loose perimeter around the Sanctuary while carefully avoiding detection by the villagers or Roswaal's people. Their stealth was impressive by mortal standards, though laughably obvious to the divine observers tracking their every movement.
"I still don't get why they're so obsessed with the witch lady," Milim whispered as they followed a group of cultists to their hidden camp. "From what I've heard, she doesn't even like them much."
"Devotion rarely requires reciprocation," Morgan explained with the wisdom of one who had witnessed countless fanatics across multiple realities. "Often, the most fervent worship springs from the least deserving objects."
"It's more about what she represents than who she actually is," added Arcueid. "They've created an ideal from fragments of truth and volumes of delusion."
Milim considered this, her expression unusually thoughtful. "That's kind of sad, actually. Not like how we serve Ramiris at all."
"Indeed not," agreed Morgan with unexpected gentleness. "Our service is based on direct knowledge of our King's worthiness, not desperate fabrication."
This fundamental distinction seemed to reassure Milim as they continued their surveillance of the cult's activities—divine maids observing mortal fanatics, the vast gulf between their respective devotions apparent only to themselves.
Chapter 3: Ripples in Reality
Echidna, the Witch of Greed, paced within her metaphysical tea garden—a construct of her consciousness that existed in the liminal space between life and death. Her typically composed demeanor had given way to visible frustration as she repeatedly attempted to identify the anomalies
in her perception.
"Impossible," she muttered, white hair swaying as she turned sharply. "No knowledge should be beyond my reach, especially within my own domain. Yet something interferes—something exists in blind spots I cannot penetrate."
The carefully constructed tea garden—her sanctuary of ordered knowledge and controlled interactions—had always provided perfect vantage for observing events throughout the Sanctuary. Until now.
She waved her hand, attempting once more to focus her perception on the tomb where the trials took place. The image formed but contained strange distortions—areas of blurred focus, as if portions of reality itself had been redacted from her awareness.
"Unacceptable," Echidna hissed, genuine anger breaking through her carefully maintained composure. "Knowledge is my dominion, my very essence. Nothing should remain hidden from—"
"How provincial," interrupted a voice of imperial disdain. "To believe one's authority over a concept is absolute merely because no one has proven otherwise."
Echidna froze, then spun toward the sound—a voice that should not, could not exist within her carefully controlled domain without her express permission.
At the edge of her tea garden stood two figures who had most certainly not been there a moment before. Their sudden appearance was not merely unexpected but should have been metaphysically impossible within her closed reality.
A woman of breathtaking beauty stood at the forefront, her golden armor visible beneath an elegantly tailored maid uniform that somehow enhanced rather than diminished her regal bearing. Crimson eyes regarded Echidna with aristocratic amusement, as if observing a quaint but ultimately insignificant curiosity. Her golden hair and imperious posture radiated authority that felt ancient beyond measure.
Behind her lounged a man of striking appearance—white hair streaked with gold, sharp handsome features set in an expression of casual interest, and golden eyes that contained what appeared to be actual galaxies swirling in their depths. He wore elaborate regalia of midnight blue containing what seemed to be moving stars, with a half-cape of purest white draped casually over one shoulder. Despite the woman's commanding presence, something about his relaxed posture suggested he was unquestionably the superior of the two.
"Who—" Echidna began, only to be cut off by a dismissive wave from the golden-haired woman.
"Proper introductions are a courtesy, not a right," she stated imperiously. "One extended at our discretion, not your demand, Witch of Greed."
Echidna's eyes narrowed, her analytical mind racing to understand how these beings had penetrated her domain. No known magic could breach her metaphysical barriers without her awareness, yet they stood before her as if such limitations were beneath their notice.
"You've been searching for us," the woman continued, her tone suggesting this was an observation rather than a question. "Your frustration at encountering knowledge beyond your reach has been... amusing to observe."
"Queen Gilgamesh," the white-haired man spoke for the first time, his voice carrying melodious authority despite its conversational tone. "Perhaps a modicum of courtesy would facilitate more productive exchange."
The woman—Queen Gilgamesh—inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, though her expression remained haughtily amused.
"As my King wishes," she conceded. "I am Queen Gilgamesh, Keeper of Relics and Treasurer of Avalon Evernight." She gestured gracefully toward her companion. "And this is Ramiris, Supreme Monarch of Avalon Evernight, King Among Kings, Master of the Absolute."
Echidna's expression remained controlled, but her mind worked furiously to catalog and analyze every detail of these impossible visitors. Their titles meant nothing to her—no historical or mythological reference in her vast knowledge matched these beings or their claimed domain.
"You don't exist in any recorded knowledge," she stated flatly, her natural curiosity battling with caution. "No texts, no legends, no historical accounts mention Avalon Evernight or beings of your description."
Queen Gilgamesh laughed, the sound both beautiful and cutting. "How terribly limited your perspective remains! To believe that absence from your provincial records equates to non-existence."
"What my Keeper of Relics means," Ramiris interjected more diplomatically, though his smile suggested he shared her amusement, "is that we exist outside your reality's conventional framework. Avalon Evernight moves between realms, observing but rarely interacting directly."
"Moving between realms?" Echidna's curiosity overpowered her caution. "You claim to be extraplanar entities? Beyond even the boundaries established by Volcanica and the other dragons?"
"Dragons," Queen Gilgamesh repeated with evident disdain. "Impressive within their limited context, perhaps, but mere lizards with inflated self-importance when viewed from proper perspective."
Echidna reassessed her visitors with growing wariness. Either they were delusional to a degree that somehow penetrated her metaphysical defenses—a concerning possibility in itself—or they were exactly what they claimed: beings of power so far beyond her reality's scale that they rendered her considerable knowledge laughably incomplete.
"You've been watching us," she concluded, her analytical mind connecting the pieces. "The perception anomalies, the blind spots in my awareness—you've been observing the Sanctuary, the trials, Subaru..."
"Indeed," confirmed Ramiris, shifting his position slightly though still allowing Queen Gilgamesh to lead the interaction. "Your little corner of reality presents interesting patterns—death loops, soul transfers, memory manipulation. Charming applications of fundamental concepts, if somewhat primitive in execution."
The casual dismissal of phenomena Echidna had spent centuries studying stung more than she cared to admit. "Why reveal yourselves now? If observation was your goal, why compromise your concealment?"
Queen Gilgamesh's smile widened fractionally. "Your persistent attempts to pierce our concealment became tiresome. The frustration of the Witch of Greed, confronted with knowledge beyond her reach, provided momentary entertainment. But even amusement grows stale with repetition."
"My treasure keeper speaks truthfully, if somewhat bluntly," Ramiris added, his golden eyes studying Echidna with genuine interest. "Your awareness of perceptual anomalies demonstrated unexpected sensitivity to dimensional irregularities. Such perception deserves... acknowledgment."
Echidna's mind raced with implications and possibilities. If these beings were what they claimed—entities from beyond her reality's boundaries—the knowledge they possessed could be beyond price. Information about other realms, other systems of magic, other fundamental laws of existence... the potential was intoxicating to her nature as Witch of Greed.
"What do you want?" she asked directly, reasserting control over her own domain by summoning her tea table and chairs. "Beings of your claimed stature wouldn't reveal themselves without purpose."
Queen Gilgamesh raised an elegant eyebrow at the witch's attempt to normalize the interaction through familiar settings. "Bold of you to assume our actions require explanation or justification to you."
"Yet not an unreasonable question," Ramiris observed, stepping forward to examine the materialized tea set with casual interest. "Curiosity is her nature, after all. Much as authority is mine."
He gestured casually, and reality rippled around them. The tea garden transformed subtly—still recognizable as Echidna's domain, but somehow more defined, more real than before. Colors deepened, textures sharpened, and the very air seemed to carry greater significance.
"Consider this a courtesy call," Ramiris explained, taking a seat at the tea table without waiting for invitation. "A formal acknowledgment of your awareness. You sensed our presence, persisted in your attempts to perceive us, and demonstrated admirable determination in pursuing knowledge beyond your grasp."
Queen Gilgamesh remained standing, her posture making it clear she considered sitting in the witch's domain beneath her dignity. "My King appreciates intellectual perseverance, even in lesser beings. I, however, find your methods lacking refinement."
Echidna's pride bristled at being addressed as a "lesser being," but her thirst for knowledge overrode any offense. She took the seat opposite Ramiris, studying him with undisguised fascination.
"You speak of moving between realms," she began, unable to resist pursuing this unprecedented opportunity for knowledge acquisition. "How many exist? What fundamental principles govern their separation? Are the laws of magic consistent across—"
"Such eagerness," interrupted Queen Gilgamesh with a dismissive wave. "Grasping at cosmic understanding with the conceptual vocabulary of a child."
"Yet enthusiasm for knowledge deserves encouragement, does it not?" countered Ramiris, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement. "After all, my treasure keeper, even you once viewed reality through more limited perspective."
Queen Gilgamesh inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the point without conceding it entirely. "As my King wishes."
Ramiris turned his attention back to Echidna, whose composed façade barely contained her burning curiosity. "To answer your questions in order: innumerable, conceptual resonance frequencies, and no—magic manifests according to local reality parameters rather than universal constants."
Each fragmentary answer opened dozens of new questions in Echidna's mind, her greed for knowledge intensifying with each word. "You could teach me," she suggested, unable to keep a note of desperate hunger from her voice. "Share your understanding of these higher principles."
"We could," Ramiris acknowledged with a casual shrug. "But we won't—at least, not to the extent you desire. Knowledge divorced from appropriate context creates more problems than it solves. Even the Witch of Greed must earn understanding rather than simply consuming it."
Echidna's disappointment was palpable, though she quickly masked it behind analytical detachment. "Then why reveal yourselves at all? Merely to satisfy your own amusement at my frustration?"
"Partially," admitted Queen Gilgamesh without a trace of shame. "Your increasing awareness of perceptual anomalies was beginning to influence your administration of the trials. Inefficient execution displeases my King."
"More importantly," added Ramiris, his expression becoming slightly more serious, "events approach a confluence point of some significance. The repeated death loops of young Subaru, your interactions with him, the machinations of Roswaal, the movements of the Witch Cult—all converging toward outcomes that may warrant... observation from a closer perspective."
Echidna's eyes narrowed at the mention of Subaru. "You've been watching him specifically. Why? What significance does he hold from your... elevated perspective?"
For the first time, Queen Gilgamesh showed something approaching genuine interest rather than mere condescension. "The boy's connection to death and temporal regression presents an unexpected adaptation of causal principles. Crude but effective."
"His determination in the face of repeated failure is particularly noteworthy," Ramiris added. "Most beings would shatter under the psychological burden of accumulated deaths, yet he persists—broken but unbowed."
A flicker of possessiveness crossed Echidna's face at their interest in what she considered her most fascinating subject. "Subaru's Return by Death ability remains incompletely understood even by me. If you possess insights into its mechanism—"
"We do," interrupted Queen Gilgamesh flatly. "But such knowledge falls well outside your current conceptual framework. Attempting to grasp it would be like a fish attempting to understand calculus."
Before Echidna could respond to this insult, Ramiris raised a hand, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps a more productive approach would be an exchange. You desire knowledge of principles beyond your reality's boundaries. We maintain interest in local developments, particularly surrounding young Natsuki."
Echidna immediately sensed opportunity. "You propose cooperation? An exchange of information?"
"Of a sort," Ramiris confirmed with a subtle smile. "Though the parameters would necessarily be limited by your current conceptual capacity."
"My King," Queen Gilgamesh interjected with mild disapproval. "Is such accommodation truly necessary? This witch, while moderately intelligent by local standards, hardly warrants—"
"Even limited local insight has value, my treasure keeper," Ramiris replied easily. "The Witch of Greed possesses contextual understanding we lack, despite our broader perspective."
Echidna watched this exchange with intense interest, noting the dynamics between them. Despite Queen Gilgamesh's evident authority and superior manner, Ramiris clearly held ultimate decision-making power—a hierarchy she filed away for future reference.
"What exactly do you propose?" she asked, careful to keep her tone neutral despite her burning curiosity.
"Continued observation without interference," Ramiris explained. "We will maintain our presence above the Sanctuary, watching events unfold. In exchange for your cooperation—specifically, not attempting to reveal our existence to others—I authorize my Keeper of Relics to answer three questions of your choosing."
"Only three?" Echidna couldn't hide her disappointment. "That hardly seems equitable given the potential value of my cooperation."
Queen Gilgamesh laughed outright. "The arrogance! To believe your provincial insights hold comparable value to knowledge spanning innumerable realities!"
"Nevertheless," Ramiris continued, apparently untroubled by Echidna's negotiating attempt, "three questions answered truthfully by Queen Gilgamesh represents unprecedented access to knowledge beyond your reality's boundaries. A generous offer, by any reasonable assessment."
Echidna considered this carefully. Three questions seemed pitifully inadequate compared to the vast knowledge these beings apparently possessed. Yet even limited information about extraplanar principles could advance her understanding exponentially. And more importantly, establishing any relationship with these beings opened possibilities for future exchanges.
"I accept," she decided. "Three questions answered truthfully, in exchange for my discretion regarding your presence."
"Excellent," Ramiris nodded approvingly. "Though I should clarify—the answers will be truthful but appropriately contextualized for your current understanding. Complete technical accuracy would be meaningless if incomprehensible."
"Naturally," Echidna agreed, her mind already racing to formulate the most efficient questions to maximize knowledge gain. "When should I present my questions?"
"Now seems as appropriate a time as any," Ramiris suggested, gesturing to Queen Gilgamesh. "My Keeper of Relics possesses comprehensive understanding of conceptual principles across realities. She will answer with appropriate... restraint."
Queen Gilgamesh's expression suggested she found this duty somewhat beneath her dignity, but she nodded in acquiescence. "Three questions only, witch. Choose wisely."
Echidna took a moment to organize her thoughts, prioritizing the countless questions crowding her mind. Finally, she spoke with careful precision.
"First question: What fundamental principle allows beings like yourselves to traverse between separate realities?"
Queen Gilgamesh considered this, her crimson eyes assessing Echidna's conceptual capacity before responding. "Conceptual frequency manipulation," she answered finally. "Realities vibrate at distinct frequencies within the multiverse. Avalon Evernight exists at a meta-frequency that allows deliberate harmonic alignment with specific reality signatures."
Echidna absorbed this, her mind working to translate the answer into principles she could understand within her magical framework. It wasn't complete comprehension, but it provided theoretical foundation she could potentially build upon.
"Second question," she continued. "What is the true mechanism behind Subaru Natsuki's Return by Death ability, and why can't I access his memories of previous loops?"
"That's two questions," Queen Gilgamesh noted with imperial disdain.
"They're directly related aspects of the same phenomenon," Echidna countered smoothly.
Ramiris smiled slightly, apparently amused by her attempt to maximize value. "Allow it, my treasure keeper. The connection is legitimate."
Queen Gilgamesh sighed but complied. "The one you call Subaru Natsuki experiences temporal causality tethering through soul-anchored consciousness transfer. Upon death, his awareness reverts to previously established dimensional checkpoints while maintaining memory continuity. You cannot access these memories because they exist as quantum potentialities rather than linear experiences—essentially, memories of timelines that never materialized in your reality's final configuration."
Again, Echidna worked to process this explanation, finding it simultaneously revelatory and frustratingly incomplete. The concept of "quantum potentialities" in particular suggested an entirely new framework for understanding causality.
She considered her final question carefully, aware that this might be her only opportunity to gain knowledge of truly transcendent value.
"Final question," she began, looking directly at Ramiris rather than Queen Gilgamesh. "What is the true nature of Authority, and how does it differ from the divine protections and authorities known in my reality?"
Queen Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow, apparently mildly impressed by the question's depth. She glanced at Ramiris, who nodded slightly, before answering.
"What you call 'authorities' are merely fragmentary expressions of conceptual dominance—pieces of broken understanding allocated through arbitrary distribution," she explained, her tone suggesting she found the local implementation primitive. "True Authority, as embodied by my King, represents perfect alignment between will and fundamental reality principles. It is not granted or taken but recognized by existence itself. Your witch factors and divine protections are like children playing with shards of a broken mirror, while true Authority is the light that creates reflection in the first place."
Echidna absorbed this final answer, finding it simultaneously the most profound and the most frustrating. It suggested a level of reality manipulation far beyond anything her world had conceived, yet provided maddeningly few specifics about implementation or access.
"Thank you for your candor," she said finally, masking her hunger for further knowledge behind practiced composure. "Your answers, while necessarily limited, provide valuable perspective."
"You've chosen your questions with admirable efficiency," Ramiris acknowledged, rising from the tea table with fluid grace. "A reflection of your nature as embodiment of greed for knowledge."
"Will you return?" Echidna asked, unable to prevent herself from seeking assurance of future interaction. "Our exchange need not end here."
Queen Gilgamesh's expression suggested she found the witch's continued presumption amusing rather than offensive. "Such eagerness. Like a beggar who, having received one coin, immediately anticipates a fortune."
"Yet persistence often yields results," Ramiris noted with a slight smile. "We shall maintain our observation of unfolding events. Should circumstances warrant further interaction, we may indeed return to this garden of yours."
He turned to Queen Gilgamesh with a casual gesture. "I believe our business here is concluded, my treasure keeper. Shall we return to Avalon Evernight?"
"Gladly, my Glorious Ramiris," she replied with evident relief. "The witch's garden, while quaint, lacks proper aesthetic refinement."
Before Echidna could respond to this dismissal, reality rippled around the visitors. Unlike conventional teleportation magic, which created visible effects during transition, they simply... ceased to exist in her domain, as if they had never been there at all.
Only the lingering sensation of their presence and the precious knowledge they had imparted confirmed to Echidna that the encounter had been real rather than some bizarre hallucination. She remained seated at her tea table, mind racing with implications and possibilities.
The Witch of Greed had glimpsed knowledge beyond her reality's boundaries—tantalizingly incomplete, yet more valuable than centuries of conventional research. And more importantly, she had confirmed the existence of beings who transcended the limitations she had always assumed were fundamental to existence itself.
She poured herself a fresh cup of tea with hands that trembled slightly from intellectual excitement rather than fear. Whatever game these beings from Avalon Evernight were playing, whatever their true interest in Subaru and the Sanctuary might be, one thing was certain: the boundaries of knowledge had just expanded exponentially.
And for the Witch of Greed, that alone made this encounter the most significant event in centuries.
Chapter 4: Machinations and Observations
In the ethereal throne room of Avalon Evernight, Ramiris reclined casually on his white gold throne, one leg draped over the armrest as he debriefed Queen Gilgamesh on their interaction with Echidna.
"She took the bait quite eagerly," Queen Gilgamesh reported with faint amusement. "Three carefully controlled answers, and already she restructures her entire worldview to accommodate concepts beyond her reality's framework."
"The nature of greed," Ramiris observed thoughtfully. "Particularly greed for knowledge. The merest glimpse of greater understanding creates hunger no conventional wisdom can satisfy."
The other maids had gathered for this report, each curious about the first direct interaction with one of the local powers. Void Shiki stood silent as always, her empty blue eyes revealing nothing. Tiamat watched with maternal interest, while Kali leaned against a column with predatory attention. BB bounced slightly in midair, her excitement barely contained, while Milim made no effort to hide her curiosity.
"Did she do the scary witch laugh?" Milim asked eagerly. "I've been watching her through the viewing fragments, and she always does this creepy giggle when she thinks she's being clever!"
"The Witch of Greed maintained reasonable composure," Queen Gilgamesh replied with imperial dignity. "Though her desperation for knowledge was pathetically evident beneath her attempted poise."
"Her conceptual understanding exceeds local parameters," noted Void Shiki quietly. "She grasps at principles beyond her reality's framework."
"Indeed," agreed Ramiris. "Which makes her a useful local contact, despite her limitations. Her administration of the trials provides excellent observation opportunities for young Subaru's responses to psychological pressure."
Tiamat stepped forward, her expression thoughtful. "Was it wise to reveal ourselves so directly, Beloved King? The witch's nature compels her to seek knowledge at any cost. She may not honor discretion if tempted with sufficient incentive."
"A calculated risk," Ramiris acknowledged with a casual shrug. "But a controlled one. Should she attempt to reveal our existence to others, few would believe claims of extraplanar entities beyond the comprehension of even the dragons they revere."
"And should she prove troublesome," added Kali with a bloodthirsty smile, "I would be honored to demonstrate the consequences of betraying the Supreme Monarch's trust."
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Commander of Combat," Ramiris replied with amused affection, "but I doubt such measures will prove necessary. The Witch of Greed values access to new knowledge above all else. She won't jeopardize potential future exchanges merely to share incomplete information with beings she considers intellectually inferior."
"Still, we should monitor her closely," suggested Scáthach, her crimson spear materialized and resting casually against her shoulder. "Greed, by nature, always seeks more than what is offered."
"Already arranged," Ramiris confirmed. "Void Shiki will maintain perceptual oversight of the witch's domain, while BB monitors any attempts to research our existence through local magical frameworks."
"Ooh, I get to spy on the spooky witch lady!" BB clapped her hands excitedly. "Her data processing methods are fascinatingly primitive but surprisingly effective given her limited conceptual resources!"
Queen Gilgamesh sighed at the Moon Cancer's enthusiasm but didn't comment further. She had long ago accepted that BB's brilliance came packaged with irrepressible exuberance.
"What's our next move, Dancing King?" inquired Kali, clearly hoping for more active engagement with the local reality.
Ramiris's golden eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Events accelerate toward interesting convergence points. The mansion confrontation approaches critical threshold, while young Subaru prepares another attempt at the trial. Meanwhile, the Witch Cult positions for opportunistic interference."
He gestured, and reality fragments appeared around the throne room, each showing different scenes from across the region: Subaru arguing with Garfiel outside the tomb; Rem preparing defenses at the mansion as Elsa watched from shadows; cultists consulting their gospels with fanatical attention.
"Continue observation according to your assigned areas," Ramiris instructed. "Report any significant developments or opportunities for... amusing interaction. This reality's struggle with concepts of fate, death, and resurrection presents fascinating patterns worthy of our attention."
"And if the local powers move against each other more directly?" asked Morgan, her fairy magic allowing her unique insights into the machinations at play. "The mage Roswaal clearly manipulates events toward some predetermined outcome, while the Witch Cult's gospel directs them toward contrary objectives."
"Such conflicts create the most interesting patterns," Ramiris replied with a casual wave. "We observe the interplay of competing fates—for now. Should truly promising entertainment present itself... well, limited intervention might become warranted."
The maids exchanged glances at this statement, recognizing the gleam in their master's golden eyes. When Ramiris found a reality's patterns "interesting" or "entertaining," it typically led to more direct involvement than mere observation.
Milim, still the newest and most direct of the maids, voiced what others were thinking. "So we might get to actually DO something soon? Not just watch from our folded space?"
"Patience, Berserker of Joy," Ramiris counseled, though his smile suggested her eagerness amused rather than annoyed him. "The most satisfying interventions occur at precisely the right moment—when patterns align to create maximum impact from minimal adjustment."
"Like waiting for the perfect moment to punch something!" Milim translated enthusiastically.
"A crude but not entirely inaccurate analogy," acknowledged Queen Gilgamesh with reluctant tolerance.
As the maids dispersed to resume their observation duties, Ramiris remained on his throne, golden eyes studying the reality fragments with genuine interest. This particular world, with its broken systems of authority and fascinating approaches to fate manipulation, provided compelling entertainment after the more straightforward dynamics of Tempest.
"Show me Subaru Natsuki," he commanded, and the fragments rearranged to focus on the young man now standing alone outside the tomb, psyching himself up for another attempt at the trial.
"Such fascinating determination," Ramiris murmured. "Each death leaving scars no one else can see, each failure adding weight no one else can perceive. Yet still you persist, little returner."
He leaned forward slightly, his expression showing genuine curiosity. "I wonder how many more times you can die and return before your mind shatters completely? And what patterns might emerge from those broken pieces?"
The question hung unanswered in the ethereal space of Avalon Evernight as the Supreme Monarch settled in to watch another cycle of death and resurrection play out in the reality below—a divine audience of one, appreciating the desperate struggle of mortals with the aesthetic detachment of a true connoisseur.
Above the Sanctuary, invisible to all, Avalon Evernight maintained its vigil, its occupants watching with varying degrees of interest as the threads of fate tangled and untangled below them—unaware that beings beyond their comprehension had begun to take more than passive interest in their desperate struggles.
In the snow-covered forest surrounding the Sanctuary, Subaru Natsuki walked alone, his breath forming clouds in the cold air as he mentally prepared for another attempt at the trial. Unbeknownst to him, Milim observed from barely three feet away, her form completely imperceptible as she maintained the concealment technique Void Shiki had taught her.
"He looks super tired," she whispered to herself, studying the dark circles under Subaru's eyes and the tension in his shoulders. "Dying over and over would definitely make sleeping hard."
Despite her typically boisterous nature, Milim had taken to observation duties with surprising dedication. Something about the young man's stubborn determination despite overwhelming odds resonated with her own nature—though she would have approached the challenges with far more direct force than his limited capabilities allowed.
She followed him to the tomb's entrance, where he paused to gather his resolve. The magical barrier shimmered, recognizing his half-blood status and permitting entry.
"Good luck this time," Milim whispered, though he couldn't possibly hear her. "Facing your past is super hard, but you've got this!"
As Subaru disappeared into the tomb, Milim maintained her position, ready to observe yet another cycle of trial and potential failure. Her assignment was clear—watch, report, but do not intervene regardless of outcomes.
Yet something about the young man's desperate struggle against forces beyond his understanding stirred unexpected empathy in the Berserker of Joy. Unlike her fellow maids, who viewed local events with divine detachment, Milim found herself genuinely invested in Subaru's success.
"Maybe next time," she whispered to the empty air, "Ramiris will let me give him just a tiny bit of help."
The thought was quickly dismissed as she remembered her training and responsibilities. For now, observation remained their primary mission—though with Ramiris's growing interest in local patterns, perhaps more direct interaction would soon be permitted.
With that hope in mind, she settled in to watch another chapter in the struggle below, her divine perception allowing her to observe developments that even the Witch of Greed could not fully comprehend.
Above it all, Avalon Evernight waited, its divine residents watching the mortal drama unfold with growing interest in how these threads of fate might eventually entangle.
Within her metaphysical garden, Echidna paced restlessly, her mind still processing the revelations from her encounter with Ramiris and Queen Gilgamesh. The knowledge they had imparted—tantalizingly incomplete yet fundamentally revolutionary—had shattered countless assumptions underpinning her understanding of reality.
"Conceptual frequency manipulation," she muttered, testing the phrase aloud as if speaking the words might deepen her comprehension. "Quantum potentialities rather than linear experiences..."
Each concept suggested entirely new frameworks for understanding magic and reality itself—frameworks that rendered much of her centuries of accumulated knowledge embarrassingly primitive by comparison.
Yet frustration mingled with intellectual excitement. Three answers, no matter how profound, merely opened doorways to thousands of new questions. The glimpse of knowledge beyond her reality's boundaries had intensified her greed rather than satisfying it.
She paused in her pacing, considering her options carefully. These beings—these representatives of "Avalon Evernight"—clearly operated on principles beyond her current comprehension. Direct manipulation or coercion would be futile, perhaps dangerously so.
Yet they had initiated contact. They had offered information, limited though it was. Most importantly, they had expressed interest in local events—particularly in Subaru and his unique ability.
"Interest creates opportunity," Echidna reasoned, her analytical mind identifying leverage points. "Their amusement with local struggles suggests potential for further exchange if properly incentivized."
She returned to her tea table, summoning her book of knowledge with a casual gesture. Though she would honor the agreement not to reveal their existence to others—for now—nothing prevented her from restructuring her own research to incorporate these new conceptual frameworks.
"Quantum potentialities," she repeated thoughtfully, making notes with newfound purpose. "Soul-anchored consciousness transfer..."
If these visitors maintained their observation of local events, opportunities for additional interaction would inevitably arise. And when they did, the Witch of Greed would be prepared with new approaches to extracting the knowledge she so desperately craved.
A smile curved her lips as she immersed herself in theoretical reconceptualization, unaware that her every action remained under observation from beyond her reality's perceptual limitations.