After successfully sending the Silver Arm back to the Outer World, we returned to Berhes. We were now at the guest house where Guster-san was staying, detailing everything that had transpired. I wasn’t alone this time; the entire party had come along to provide their own accounts.
We had sent Demuad-san back to Orcus that very day, knowing the twins would be worried sick about him. He muttered something about getting caught up in "something outrageous," but he looked brighter than I’d ever seen him. He had finally been liberated from Garnalava’s voice—the curse that had plagued his mind for years.
“I never imagined such a crisis was looming over Zephyrson,” Guster-san remarked, letting out a heavy sigh of relief after hearing our report. “So that was the cause of the monsters' recent abnormal behavior, after all.”
“I can’t say for certain, but most likely,” I replied.
The sigh Guster-san let out was thick with emotion. We had only faced the arm, but if the creature’s entire body had managed to cross over into our realm, Berhes would have likely collapsed. The whole world would have been plunged into chaos. We were truly fortunate.
“Zephyrson was saved thanks to you,” Guster-san said solemnly. “We have incurred a debt that can never be repaid.”
“Not at all. We were just acting in our own interests,” I said, looking to the others for backup. “Right, everyone?”
Halfa and the others nodded with smiles. In truth, the Silver Arm wasn't just a threat to Zephyrson; it was a crisis for the entire world. We had simply acted to save the place where we lived. It wasn't something that required grand thanks.
“Heh... Such humble heroes,” Guster-san chuckled. “But we are truly grateful nonetheless. Please do not forget that. If you ever find yourselves in need, we will move heaven and earth to lend you our strength.”
“Thank you very much.”
I didn't think we were anything as grand as "heroes," but I was still honestly happy for the sentiment.
We managed to drive back the Silver Arm this time, but I didn’t think those things had given up on their invasion. Having an influential figure like Guster-san in our corner was a huge relief.
“I am not only grateful for you saving Zephyrson,” Abarum-san added, bowing his head deeply, “but also for helping me learn the true lineage of my clan. For that, I thank you.”
The lineage he referred to was the history behind the Warrior's Ritual. His people offered their Warrior's Vow to a deity whose name had been lost to time, but it turned out that this god was actually the God of Origin, Zeuladen-sama. We only discovered this thanks to Garna. She had apparently recognized the name Giderde.
“Ho, Giderde!” Garna had remarked earlier. “That is the bloodline of a priest who once served my father. To think they have become a warrior clan... they always regretted not being able to follow him.”
When the God of Origin departed the world to halt the invasion from the Outer World, the Giderde clan had begged to go with him. However, Zeuladen-sama knew that nothing but fierce, endless slaughter awaited them in the Outer World. Since they weren't warriors at the time, he refused to lead them into such a fate, and so they remained behind. Since then, they had devoted generations to training as warriors—all so that when the God of Origin finally returned, they would be ready to fight by his side.
“The god we served has yet to return,” Abarum-san said, his voice filled with renewed purpose. “But if we have been refining our skills specifically to fight those abominations, then battling them is our ultimate calling. We put on a pathetic display this time... but it won't happen again. Should they reappear, we will send them back to that Outer World ourselves. As many times as it takes.”
Armed with the knowledge of his clan’s origin and mission, Abarum-san was fired up. We had learned a great deal about the nature of those abominations during this incident; I had no doubt Abarum-san would devise some effective countermeasures.
“So, what will you all do now?” Guster-san asked.
“We’re heading to Lafres next,” Halfa replied. She was currently stroking the black cat she held in her arms. “Right, Garna-chan?”
“S-stop! Do not stroke me!” the cat hissed.
This black cat was, in fact, Garna.
After the Silver Arm was banished, the gods had returned to the Divine Realm to discuss Garnalava’s fate. In the end, they pardoned her, but they couldn't ignore the chaos she’d sown. Her punishment was to be turned into a cat. It seemed her divine power wasn't entirely gone, but it was so heavily restricted that returning to her human form was exhausting. Thus, she was resigned to her feline state for now.
As Halfa said, our next destination was Lafres, a neutral nation in the center of the continent. Specifically, we were aiming for the Adventurer's Guild Headquarters accessible from there.
The invasion from the Outer World would likely continue. We needed to become strong enough to face it. In that sense, I actually thought Garnalava’s original goal wasn't wrong—it was just her methods that were terrible.
Garna’s atonement would involve creating a dungeon designed to properly train adventurers, rather than subjecting them to her previous erratic "trials." Heading to the Headquarters was part of that plan. We intended to consult with the high-ranking officials there to design a dungeon that would be truly beneficial for training the next generation of heroes.
We were going to stick with her through the process. After all, we had promised to cooperate with Garna.
We planned to set out from Berhes in a few days. We’d spent most of our time in Zephyrson fighting, so it felt a bit regrettable to leave just as things had finally calmed down.