The Little Witch knew about the Goddess’s Feather Robe?!
Wh-Why?!
"H-How do you know about that, Rufe? And what do you mean, you were only able to come back because of the robe?"
"Come to think of it, I might not have told you the details, Alraune. I saw that robe before, back when the Witch Queen kidnapped me and took me to the Witch’s Village."
That was it!
It had been over a year since the Little Witch was taken. If I recalled correctly, it happened right after we defeated Big Sister Dryades of the Four Heavenly Kings. While I was occupied with that battle, the Witch Queen—who had been disguised as a resident of the city—sneaked off with her.
How nostalgic. Back then, I still lived in the Dryades' Forest; the Alraune's Forest we called home now didn't even exist yet.
At the time, I had no way to go and rescue her. Even though I had grown stronger by obtaining Spirit Power, I couldn't travel long distances on my own. I could use Teleportation, but I could only manifest my body within the range of my roots. There were limits to what I could achieve by myself. Besides, I didn't even know where the Witch's Village was. I had been completely powerless to save her.
That was when the Flame Dragon Lord arrived. He wanted my nectar, and he proposed a deal: if I provided him with a steady supply, he would retrieve Rufe from the Witch Queen. I remembered him saying something like, "The Witch Queen owes me a few favors; she'll agree to it."
In the end, the Little Witch did return thanks to the Flame Dragon Lord. However, until today, I never knew exactly how he had managed it.
"There's that dragon you're friends with, right?" Rufe continued. "I saw him hand a box containing the feather robe to the Witch Queen."
The dragon I was "friends" with had to be the Flame Dragon Lord. That meant he was the one who gave the robe to her!
The Flame Dragon Lord, a general of the Demon King’s Army, had handed over the Goddess’s Feather Robe—a relic his army had stolen from the Kingdom of Myrte Holy Light—to the Witch Queen. She, in turn, had used that robe as a bargaining chip to get the Lady Shrine Maiden of the Goddess to treat her. The pieces were finally falling into place.
"I was released in exchange for the dragon giving her the robe."
Rufe had apparently caught a glimpse of the glowing garment when the Witch Queen checked the box. In other words, the Little Witch had been traded for the Goddess's Feather Robe. The Flame Dragon Lord must have known the Witch Queen coveted it, and he used that desire to secure Rufe's rescue.
And that was how she came back to me.
Which meant...
"Wait... was I the cause of all this?"
If the Flame Dragon Lord hadn't wanted my nectar, the Goddess’s Feather Robe would never have reached the Witch Queen, and it certainly wouldn't have found its way back to the Kingdom of Myrte Holy Light. If that hadn't happened, the Witch Queen would likely still be a literal vegetable thanks to my Mistletoe. Myrte wouldn't have recovered their lost treasure, and Nina wouldn't have drunk my Saint Nectar in front of the Shrine Maiden, causing everyone to mistake it for the legendary Elixir.
If you traced it all back to the source, I was the one responsible for everything.
There was an old proverb about how a wind blowing could lead to bucket-makers prospering, but I never expected to experience the butterfly effect quite so personally. It was a lesson in how a single action could influence things that seemed entirely unrelated, but here we were.
Looking at it that way, the Flame Dragon Lord might have possessed incredible foresight. Since it was the price for Rufe’s rescue, I was still sending him massive quantities of Saint Nectar for free. Considering how much the price had skyrocketed on the human market, he could probably make a fortune if he resold it. Not that I thought a dragon would bother with arbitrage—he was likely just drinking it all himself.
His body was truly, truly massive, after all. He was even bigger than Bear-papa.
"So, Alraune? What exactly is this Goddess’s Feather Robe?"
"I don't know the specifics," I replied, "but I think it’s similar to the helmet in the Sanctuary."
People called it the "Hero's Helmet" these days, but I’d heard it used to be known as the "Holy Helmet." That helmet had the power to create a barrier using the Goddess's strength. As for the robe? According to the letter, the wearer could nullify the Holy Magic Barrier, the Dämonenwand.
The Witch Queen had clearly wanted it for a reason, though I couldn't imagine it was for anything good. Since she had returned it to Myrte, she must have finished whatever she needed it for. Or perhaps she no longer had a reason to use it...
Either way, I couldn't stop thinking about the Royal Capital.
In the Kingdom of Gardenia, the Royal Capital was the only place protected by a Dämonenwand. If the Witch Queen had used the robe for some scheme, that was where it would have happened. Between that and the situation with Zelma, I really wanted to go and see the state of things for myself.
Fortunately, my roots had been growing toward the capital for nearly a year. They had already crossed the Freiheit Great Plains in the south. Soon, they would reach the city itself. Once they did, I would be able to use Teleportation to manifest my body there.
The problem was that, as a monster, I wouldn't be able to cross the Dämonenwand myself. Still, I should at least be able to observe from the outside. I wanted to see that nostalgic city again.
The winter days continued to drift by. No other major incidents occurred this season. Perhaps because I had destroyed the Frost Golem the previous year, we didn't get hit by the same devastating snowstorms as before.
Even so, the forest remained cold, so I decided to host a Hot Pot Party to keep everyone’s spirits up. Our usual crew was there—myself, the Little Witch, Fairy Kiri, and Amazoness Treant—plus our newest residents: the elf Mercurée and Kyle, also known as "Chara-o."
I had been using the money from my nectar sales to buy all sorts of vegetables. Thanks to that, the variety of plants I could produce with my Plant Generation had grown significantly. I felt a pang of nostalgia remembering the days when Rufe and I only had roasted broad beans and turnips. Now, I could provide a full garden's worth of variety.
I even used the Ice Plants that had been so helpful during the Witch Queen's salt damage incident. They were delicious in salads, but they were surprisingly good for shabu-shabu in a hot pot too. Everyone seemed satisfied with the rare menu. Despite the pot being filled with nothing but vegetables, it was a hit. Only Chara-o seemed grumpy about the lack of meat, but I suppose that was to be expected from a dragon in human form.
I was getting along reasonably well with both Merk and Chara-o now. I’d been terrified that Merk—my friend from my days as Saint Iris—would see through my disguise, but she turned out to be incredibly dense. Even now, she was staring at me with a blank, expressionless face while clutching one of my vines. As an elf who loved plants, she seemed to have taken a shine to my vines specifically. They did have a much nicer gloss than the local flora, if I did say so myself. I took very good care of them.
It had been a while since we reunited, yet she still hadn't realized I was Iris. Given that she was far older than she looked, I’d assumed she’d have sharper intuition, but she was surprisingly airheaded. She had lived dozens of times longer than me, yet she didn't suspect a thing.
Then again, maybe it wasn't just her being dense. My acting skills were probably just that good. I might actually have a future as an actress!
While I was busy perfecting my craft as the Alraune world’s first leading lady, I continued to extend my roots underground. My body now stretched for hundreds of kilometers. It was no exaggeration to say that the entire route from Tower City to the Royal Capital was now within my sphere of influence. The winter chill had slowed my progress, but that would change once spring arrived. When the weather warmed up, it would be the season for plants. I’d be able to teleport to the outskirts of the capital in no time.
As the seasons shifted, the footsteps of spring drew closer. It would soon be the fourth spring since I became an Alraune. In the midst of this transition, good news arrived along with the warm sunlight.
A lovely woman wearing a gown that was entirely out of place in a forest came rushing through the trees.
"Master Alraune, I’m home!"
It was Frie—Her Imperial Highness, Princess Freundliche. My former disciple from my time as a Saint had traveled to the Royal Capital with Lord Manfred of Tower City to seek the King’s blessing for their marriage. Her return to the city could only mean one thing. One look at her radiant face told me everything I needed to know.
"I’m getting married!"
The King had approved! Having known Frie since she was a little girl, I felt as happy as if it were my own engagement. But I wasn't the only one who would be celebrating; the people of Tower City would surely be ecstatic. The news of a marriage to an Imperial princess would send a wave of celebration through the entire Kingdom of Gardenia.
"I wanted to be the first to tell you that our engagement was official, so I came straight here before even going back to the city!"
I’d felt a carriage on the highway through my roots, so I’d had a hunch. Her clothes confirmed it, too. Honestly, look at that—she’d gone and got her beautiful dress all dirty.
"This is all thanks to you, Master!"
The Nectar Ball I gave her might have been the initial spark, but I knew their happiness was the result of Frie’s hard work and Manfred’s gallantry. The fact that she had come all this way just to tell me in person touched me deeply. I extended a vine, pulling her into a warm embrace.
"Congratu... lations!"
The wedding between the last princess of the Glanz Empire and a frontier noble of Gardenia... This happy union was a breath of fresh air, but it was also destined to stir up new waves of trouble in the Royal Capital.
Of course, as Merk sat there clutching my vine, she was privy to everything!
Next time: A Migrant Adventurer's Royal Capital Sightseeing Chronicle.