Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 50: Tomb of Death ⑨ – Prayer of Release
Surprisingly, five minutes is a long time.
It still hadn’t passed yet.
There’s me, with purple hair and eyes.
And Juicy-san, with white hair, white wolf ears, and a white tail.
Even if someone says we’ve had a makeover, it’s honestly a look you could agree with.
Still, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Agaro-san’s first comment being “makeover.”
Seems like he’s forgotten who’s had the most dramatic makeover of all.
Also, there’s something I need to ask him.
“Na~~”
Before that, the limp Dagger returned to its original form, drained of strength.
So I handed her over to Juicy-san.
“U-um, Daga-chan… Are you okay?”
“It’s fine. It just seems exhausted, so please hold onto It like that.”
“U-um… Woof. Yes. Leave it to me.”
That was perfect—it stopped Juicy-san from giving me too much physical affection.
Sorry for using you like that, Dagger.
I’ll make it up to you later. When we get out of here, I’ll get you something good to eat.
“Ahh… well, you know…”
Agaro-san said while pulling out his gourd-shaped sake bottle and taking a drink.
For this man, alcohol really is the best medicine.
If I recall, it’s called “Hannya Water”—a sacred brew. It’s quite the blessing. I’ll pass, though.
“U-um, Agaro-san, is that Amalthea?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“That’s the one you’re not supposed to drink, right? I know about it.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
It’s banned to even possess it. I looked at him with a squint.
“You drank that stuff—are you going to be okay?”
“Well, it hurts like hell the next day, like a massive hangover.”
Agaro-san answered with a smirk.
But I replied seriously.
“I saw what happened to a faun who drank that before.”
“I see. Did they die?”
“Yes. They died.”
Strictly speaking, I finished them off before it was too late.
Agaro-san took another swig from his gourd.
“Phew… well, yeah. That stuff’s my trump card. Yours too, right?”
“Right.”
“U-um, woof. Yes. This 【Fenrir】 is my special power.”
“…O-oh, right. So let’s just say no one saw anything, okay?”
I figured it would come to that.
I agreed. Juicy-san nodded too.
“Understood. I didn’t see a thing.”
“U-um, me neither.”
“Good. The witch—wait, the witch?”
That’s when we realized—the witch wasn’t there.
I quickly turned my gaze toward the church. That’s probably where she went.
“She snuck off ahead, huh? That’s a witch for you.”
Agaro-san grumbled. She probably woke up while we were fighting and went on ahead.
Or maybe she hadn’t been unconscious at all. Being a witch, that’s plausible.
“U-um, woof! Let’s go after her!”
Juicy-san had already returned to her normal form. I needed a bit longer.
No—just needed to undo it. I deactivated 【Generous】.
The gauntlet also reverted from 【Gauntlet of the Silent God】 to 【Gauntlet of the Silent Sanctity】.
We crossed the bridge and headed for the church on the hill. It wasn’t far.
Agaro-san muttered while sipping his drink.
“Strange. The dungeon hasn’t unlocked yet.”
“Oh?”
“The dungeon collapse hasn’t started.”
“U-um, what happens to us when the dungeon gets unlocked?”
That’s a good point.
We probably wouldn’t make it out on our own before the place collapses.
“No worries. After collapse begins, teleportation circles will appear nearby. Step in, and you’re back to the surface. There’s a reason for it—I just can’t remember it anymore.”
“But collapse hasn’t started. Even though we defeated Hagan?”
“Maybe the answer is in there.”
And so, we arrived at the church. I pushed open the doors.
Wooden pews were arranged in neat rows, with beautiful stained-glass windows on both ends.
The layout was just like the chapel of a surface church.
Only, while those were dusty and rusty, this place was pristine and new-looking.
Not a speck of dust—it was almost unnatural.
Then again, being the dungeon’s deepest level, that kind of unnaturalness was to be expected.
At the front stood a red altar, and there was the witch.
Behind the altar, a statue of a divine goddess was enshrined… Wait, something seemed off.
“Well well, welcome! Glad you could make it,”
The witch smiled, sitting cross-legged on the red altar like some final boss, playing with a cup.
A pure white cup with a gold rim—looked expensive.
But it felt oddly familiar.
Agaro-san tilted his gourd and muttered:
“Don’t tell me you’re the final boss?”
“U-um, witch-sama, are you the enemy!?”
“No way… witch…”
As we stepped back, the witch waved her hands frantically.
“No no, that’s not it. I did sneak ahead, but I had a reason, okay?”
“Witch, that cup—?”
“U-um, I can tell it’s pricey. Is it a treasure?”
“Yup yup. In a way, yes.”
“More importantly, the Tomb of Death isn’t collapsing. What’s going on?”
“That’s because Hagan hasn’t been completely defeated.”
She said it as if it were no big deal.
“Eh? But we did defeat him. We even destroyed his core this time.”
“U-um, yes, we definitely shattered it.”
“Even so, completely defeated? That hasn’t happened yet.”
“So he’ll revive again?”
“Yup yup. Not right away, but I think he’s still regenerating even now.”
“Come on… how are we supposed to stop him then?”
Even destroying the core doesn’t stop regeneration—he’s practically immortal.
The witch spun the cup in one hand with ease.
“That’s easy. Just break this cup.”
“Wait—that’s…”
I remembered. It looked just like the cup we found in that abandoned village.
“U-um, witch-sama, what do you mean?”
“Well, well, this is the very defense mechanism used by that old man Abramelin.
The souls of all those sacrificed in the Tomb of Death are gathered into this cup as energy, which was then used to power Hagan. That’s how he became pseudo-immortal.”
“But… I don’t hear anything.”
We used to hear layers of screams and curses, blending together like the sound of a flute.
“Well well, actually, up until a moment ago you could hear it. Probably means the cup’s empty now. Look.”
The witch showed us the inside of the cup. It was indeed empty.
“Then hurry up and smash it already!”
“U-um, witch-sama… is there something you’re hesitating about?”
“Hmm, hmm. At first, I noticed the mechanism and tried to destroy it, but…
Tell me, Wof-boy, how did you break the one you found?”
“I didn’t break it. I purified it.”
“Oh, so that story was true. Well, with that kind of power, it makes sense.”
“U-um, woof, wawoo… I knew it! Wof-sama, you’re amazing! You’re wonderful!”
“No, I’m not really…”
Back then—I lost.
No, it was fighting Hagan that made me understand.
It was before winning or losing.
The Black Knight—Arthur—had not fought me seriously.
I don’t know why. But maybe… maybe he wanted to be set free.
I know because I heard words of gratitude from him.
“I see, I see. Purification, huh.”
The witch pulled out a small vial from—of all places—her cleavage.
Standing up, she placed the cup on the altar and poured the vial’s contents into it.
A viscous, glittering liquid flowed into the cup.
That’s Elixir, isn’t it?
She had only one vial, and she used it on Hagan.
So why is there a second one?
Well, she is a witch, so I guess it’s fine.
The cup filled with Elixir shimmered, then disappeared into sparkling particles of light.
“Ah, ah, ah—it’s so beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Nice to drink to.”
…Even though he’s drinking anyway, with or without a reason.
Right after that, the ground trembled.
That was the sign that Hagan had truly been defeated.
“Now, now, the Tomb of Death will finally be released. May they rest in peace.”
The witch whispered softly, like a prayer.
I prayed too. Juicy-san bowed her head in silent tribute.
I hope that light was a sign of their peaceful rest.
“Ah, ah, ah, Witch-sama, is there no treasure here or anything?”
After the moment of silence, Juicy-san asked.
Even though she’s a marquis’by daughter, she really likes treasure. Maybe it’s the dog part of her.
“Ahh, seems like there might be something.”
“Witch, did you find anything?”
“Yes, yes. There were various things in the storage room that was once the gateway to death. We still have time, so if you’re going to scavenge, now’s the time.”
“Juicy-san, shall we take a look?”
“Ah, ah, yes! Wof-sama!”
Inside the storage room, there were shelves with various items on them.
Sacks of grain were stacked up. It looked like… just a normal storage room.
Dungeon structures are copies of real buildings, so I guess that makes sense.
Still, for being the deepest part of the Dungeon of Death… this feels surprisingly ordinary.
Juicy-san looked around, a little confused. That’s understandable.
I checked the shelves too, just in case.
Nothing unusual. Just junk.
I had a faint hope there might be a knife or something—and there it was. Just sitting there.
On the edge of a shelf was a short blade. A knife.
A wooden handle with a rounded shape. No guard. When drawn, it was single-edged.
The blade pattern was coarse, forming wavy lines.
“…”
It didn’t look expensive or special. Just an ordinary knife.
It really seemed like nothing more than a normal knife.
“Ah, ah, ah, Wof-sama. Do you want that?”
“I figured… maybe it’s okay to take something like this.”
It looked like an ordinary storage room.
That’s why taking something from here without a word felt… kind of like stealing.
“Ah, ah, I think it’s fine. It’ll be a nice memory!”
“Alright then, I’ll take it.”
A memory, huh… I tucked the knife away.
And so, the Dungeon of the Tomb of Death was liberated—and that forest finally became just a forest.
I’m tired.
A few days later. In the slums of Hydrangea.
Down a narrow alley. On the right side, roughly midway through.
Suddenly, a staircase appeared, leading underground.
Descending the stairs and turning slightly, there was a red semi-circular arched door.
Opening the door revealed a space like a concert hall.
Dozens of bookshelves lined the room at a glance.
Each shelf was tightly packed with books, with not a single gap.
Not just the bookshelves—every piece of furniture was lavishly crafted.
“If you’re going to come, please notify me in advance.”
A refined young man with gray hair and dark skin gave a wry smile.
He wore glasses and had a book tucked under one arm.
A white shirt and black pants—nothing unusual about his attire.
But his eyes were purple.
His purple eyes looked at me with slight exasperation.
Between the bookshelves, white tables and chairs had been set up.
The entire setup felt abruptly placed and out of place.
At one of the tables sat a girl dressed entirely in white.
Her round hat decorated with white roses, her long hair, eyes, skin, cape, and dress—everything was pure white.
Her pale lips moved ever so slightly.
“The darkness of death. The wind of death has vanished.”
“Call me Ambrosius. Ambrosius Melnuris—the light of death.”
“I am Shiro. Shiro White Vice Blanche Album Sephid.”
“……”
“……”
The King of the Darkness of Death and the Queen of the Light of Death fell silent for a moment.
The one who spoke first was Ambrosius, Darkness of Death.
“You’re as wordy as ever, Shiro. The wind of death… you mean Hagan, right? Revived only to disappear again in a few days—how pitiful. Either way, he wasn’t capable of much. Not king material. At best, a village chief. A petty, truly foolish man.”
“You knew him?”
“I’m the one who made him the King of the Wind of Death, if you can believe it. I granted him his wish. Turned him into a king by letting him sacrifice his own villagers and family through a large-scale offering. Utterly foolish and repulsive, wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed.”
“And then, sealed away by that defensive mechanism of Abramelin and the others, unable to do a thing. Then recently revived, only to vanish again. Truly a wind, that one.”
“…I see.”
Shiro was unmoved by Ambrosius’s sarcasm.
She lifted the pure white teacup to her lips.
It contained milk.
“Shiro, did you come all the way to Hydrangea just to share that trivial news?”
“Yes, I did. Information sharing among the Kings of Death is my role.”
“Ah, right. I forgot. Much obliged.”
“You’re welcome. Though, my real reason for coming is something else.”
“Oh? Not that I care.”
“Ambrosius. I’m here to buy a book.”
“You? Buying a book? What kind of book?”
“Romance.”
“…You?”
“Do you have something to say?”
“Well, it’s fine. Do you have a specific request? I have a decent collection of romance novels.”
“If I had to say… something pure. Pure love.”
“…You?”
“What exactly are you trying to imply?”
“Nothing, really. I have a few. Take your pick.”
“I will.”
Shiro gave a curt nod and drank the rest of the milk from his white teacup.