That day, I found myself in the Former Demon Territory—a desolate region where wasteland and desert bled into one another.
No buildings stood nearby, nor could I sense the presence of any living creature. It was a place entirely abandoned by the world.
This was where I would resurrect the Former Hero today.
I had chosen this location over the Demon King's Domain to ensure no innocent bystanders were caught in the crossfire. There was no telling what might happen during the execution of the ritual. To prepare for any contingency, I had selected a site where secondary damage was unlikely to occur.
Historical records and anecdotes are littered with the stories of those who attempted to bring back the deceased. Without exception, they all met with tragic ends. The Resurrection of the Dead is the quintessential taboo of the magical arts.
However, I fully intended to succeed.
I had already completed exhaustive preparations. Through countless rounds of verification, I had reached the conviction that it was possible. Given the current circumstances, I could even count on the support of the Will of the World. I would bring her back—there was no doubt in my mind.
A massive magic circle had been inscribed onto the earth ahead. It was a formula prepared specifically for this occasion. At this very moment, dozens of versions of the Research Institute Director were scattered across the site, performing final inspections. They were scouring the formula, searching for even the slightest flaw or instability.
The keepsake sword was thrust into the ground at the very center of the circle. It was the weapon that symbolized her. That blade was imbued with a lifetime of emotions and experiences; one could not speak of the Former Hero without it. It was an absolute necessity for the resurrection.
At my feet sat a crystal and a glass vessel.
The former contained her remains. I had kept them safe since the moment I escaped the Valley of the Dead, and now, finally, I was about to release them from their crystalline tomb. I felt a strange, inexplicable emotion as I realized that the moment had finally arrived.
As for the soul contained in the glass vessel, it had been a mere bleached slate until recently. Now, however, it was something else entirely. Over the last few days, Gwen had modified it, altering its essence so that the Main Body of the Will of the World would eventually drift toward it and take anchor.
Furthermore, we had inscribed all available information regarding her into the vessel. Specifically, we used records of the Former Hero’s deeds and anecdotes gathered from across the lands, as well as the traces left by her journey. We had even replicated and incorporated the memories of those who shared deep bonds with her—myself, Logan, Luciana, and Diera.
This collective pool of information would form the foundation of her being. Therefore, strictly speaking, this was less of a resurrection and more of a reproduction. I was not bringing back the exact person she was at the moment of her execution.
In terms of technical specifications, this was unavoidable. The moment the Main Body of the Will of the World was introduced, she ceased to be the same person in the truest sense of the word.
I had accepted that. This was not a plan born solely of personal desire. It was a project that required a certain degree of compromise to even be viable.
As I stared down at the remains and the soul, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. Gwen drew near, her tone as bright and airy as ever. She gave me a wide wave as she spoke.
"Hellooo! How are we doing?"
Gwen peered into my face with practiced familiarity. After scrutinizing me from point-blank range, she stroked her chin and offered her assessment.
"Your expression is awfully stiff. Are you nervous, by any chance?"
"...Naturally, I would be a little nervous."
I offered a retort, having been seen through so easily. Considering what we were about to do, anxiety was only to be expected. Even the Director was currently immersed in her work with an uncharacteristically serious aura. Only Gwen remained perpetually carefree.
"Oh, Harvelt, you really need to relax. No matter how much you fret, the outcome isn't going to change. Keeping your composure is key."
Gwen spoke in a breezy tone before hugging me with casual intimacy. If Grom had been present, a blood-soaked duel surely would have erupted on the spot. He demanded absolute etiquette toward the Demon King from everyone. Over the last few days, I had witnessed several of their verbal sparring matches. As one might expect, their personalities were catastrophically incompatible.
Even so, Gwen's behavior felt off. On the surface, she seemed to be her usual self, yet I felt a lingering sense of dissonance. Prompted by a sudden intuition, I decided to ask.
"Did you come here to encourage me?"
"—As if. I was just teasing you to kill some time."
Her face returning to its neutral mask, Gwen pulled away abruptly. She turned on her heel and began to walk off.
"Where are you going?"
"Just going for a little stroll!"
Gwen walked away even as she answered. Her actions remained as incomprehensible as ever. Then again, that was nothing new; she was a creature of whim who took pleasure in flustering those around her. It was best to simply leave her be.
The rest of the executives were scheduled to arrive shortly. Until they did, I decided I would assist the Director with the final preparations.