12 O’Clock Marionette

“Did you hear that just now?”

“The Young Count must have passed the first trial.”
“She was fast. Almost too fast.”
“…Could the Duke have interfered?”

The Elders murmured among themselves, glancing toward the cliff where Minuet had entered.
Now that she had stepped inside, there was little they could do but wait.
The Second Elder frowned.

“Settle down. The first trial isn’t particularly impressive.”
It was a test of courage, perception, and reflexes.
According to past records, spiritual power wasn’t even the main focus.

It was a trial well-suited to someone as cunning as the Young Count.
The next trial, however, wouldn’t be so simple.
And the Second Elder planned to eliminate even the smallest possibility of her success.

He glanced at Gavotte.
The young man was anxiously waiting for his sister, paying no attention to the conversation around him.
That worked in the Elder’s favor.

A little trickery now would save him from trouble later.
“Well then, let’s open the second trial.”
The Second Elder deliberately spoke loudly before approaching the cliff.

The next gate was already open, but that ignorant brat wouldn’t know—
So a little deception would do just fine.
From his robes, the Elder retrieved a small purple pouch.
Inside were pure white grains, resembling enlarged sand or tiny diamond fragments.

Beatitudo.
A forbidden substance the Elder had only heard of in passing.
"30%—that was the limit."

The Tenth Elder of White Desert had warned them that exceeding this amount would lead to dire consequences.
But the Second Elder scoffed.
"‘The effects will multiply several times over. You won’t be able to handle it.’"

And why was that a bad thing?
The substance’s effects would only remain inside the trial grounds.
They wouldn’t spread beyond the engraved magic circle of the cliff.

Besides—
The Second Elder already knew what the second trial entailed.
A smirk spread across his face as he emptied the entire pouch into the cliffside.

The grains didn’t scatter.
Instead, they sank into the stone, vanishing without a trace.
His aide paled.

“W-Wise Elder? Are you sure about this?”
“Of course. Isn’t it better to be certain?”
The magic circle trembled.

But this time, the tremor was far stronger.
A thunderous roar erupted—so powerful, it felt as if the entire cliffside was shaking.
The emerald glow of the sigils darkened, deepening into black.

And still—
The Second Elder smiled.
"It’s over."

Soon, the brat would be gone.
And his bloodline would reclaim its rightful place.
There was no reason not to smile.

And then—
“What the hell is that?!”
A startled cry from another Elder shattered his thoughts.

The Second Elder reflexively looked up—
And froze.
A giant.

The same trial guardian from the first gate—
Except now it was larger than the entire cliff itself.
And it was staring down at him.

For a moment, their gazes met.
The giant’s mouth stretched wide.
“…It’s smiling.”

It shouldn’t have been possible.
And yet, the expression unmistakably resembled mockery.
Then—

The giant raised its arm.
The Bonetti Elders stood frozen in disbelief.
No one moved.

No one spoke.
They simply stared.
But the expected disaster never came.

The giant couldn’t attack them—
Because it wasn’t stable.
Instead, a strange noise filled the air—like a balloon deflating.

And then—
It collapsed.
The core sustaining it had shattered under the overwhelming force.

"…Is it over?"
The Second Elder barely had time to hope.
Because the energy didn’t disappear.

Instead—
It spread.
The wind roared.

The sky darkened.
Black clouds rolled in, swallowing the heavens.
Lightning crashed down over and over.

Rain poured violently, drenching everything in an instant.
The storm’s power gathered—then shifted.
Toward the sea.

The Second Elder turned his head, eyes wide.
And then—
His breath caught.

A massive, spiraling column of water had risen from the ocean.
A tornado.
No—

A waterspout.
One so enormous that even the oldest living Elder had never seen its like.
“T-This… what is happening?!”

Gavotte demanded answers, his voice full of outrage.
But the Second Elder couldn’t answer.
Because his mind was already entranced by the monstrous storm.

“Wise Elder!”
Tempestas.
A storm in every sense of the word.

“I-I… I…”
“You have to move!”
His aide grabbed him and dragged him away.

The other Elders, suddenly aware of their imminent demise, fled.
Gavotte shouted, veins straining in his throat, but no one listened.
All they cared about was their own survival.

Horses screamed as carriages raced away.
But even those sounds were devoured by the thunderous howls of the storm.
30 meters away—

A lone figure leaned against a massive tree, watching.
“…I told you. You should’ve stuck to the recommended dose.”
Humans could only withstand the barest fraction of Beatitudo.

So how dare they ignore the warning?
Well.
They were humans.

Foolishness was to be expected.
Ares smirked.
“Not that I care.”

He flicked his gaze toward the second trial’s gate.
Then—
He left.

Waiting for news to reach his ears.
***
Inside the Second Trial—Also the Final Trial

The moment we stepped past the cliff’s gate, thick mist swallowed us whole.
I could barely see a step ahead.
“…Hello? Can you hear me?”

I called out to Cruello.
No response.
The air was too still.

Even sound felt muted.
Great.
Minuet was the only one taking the trial—so why was I trapped in this fog too?

“…I give up.”
Sighing, I sat down.
If I just waited, it would end on its own.

"What kind of trial is this?"
Surely, they didn’t expect her to clear the fog using a spirit?
As I rested my chin on my folded knees, deep in thought—

[What am I doing right now?]
A sound that shouldn't be heard coils around my ears.
At the same time, I could guess the theme of this gateway.

I straightened my knees, stood up, and brushed the dust off my pants.
When I turned, I saw a tall woman.
Short hair that fully exposed the shape of her head, a person I could now meet only through memory.

I looked into her eyes with an unshaken gaze.
[Is this really the time for you to be wasting your efforts on something like this?]
"And if it is?"

[I know why you came here.]
A second voice followed.
This time, it was a man with long black hair and pale skin.

[You let yourself be deceived by deceitful records that dare to question our god.]
[We did not raise you that way.]
"You two were excommunicated, and yet you still call it 'our' god?"

I grumbled, exhaling a sigh.
"Is that all you have to say after seeing your daughter for the first time in years?"
They were my parents—long dead.

Not Siora's parents, but my real blood relatives.
[You need more education.]
[Leaving you alone for so long has made you a mess. We should never have let you be on your own.]

"I’ll pass, just leave me alone."
[You—.]
—Purification.

With a simple incantation, the two of them crumbled like dust and dissolved back into the mist.
Education, my ass.
"What right do the dead have to say anything?"

The second gateway was an illusion.
It seemed to be some kind of trial meant to force me to overcome my trauma.
Judging by the fact that it was attacking even me, a mere bystander, this system clearly didn't acknowledge the presence of spectators.

I had known it was a trap from the beginning.
"I was expecting the Elders to sneak in and ambush me."
But something felt off.

So Qudil was the only one who got an easy ride?
Clicking my tongue, I scanned my surroundings.
If everything disappeared this easily, then Cruello’s side probably wouldn’t be much of a problem either…

"Huh?"
I blinked at the small figure caught in my peripheral vision.
A little girl with blonde hair tied high atop her head.

Was there anyone like that in my memory?
As if sensing my gaze, the child turned her head.
"Hah."

Straight-cut bangs, round eyes, a face sprinkled with freckles—she smiled brightly.
[Hi! I'm Amy.]
Amy Royalsand.

Seeing the body I once inhabited from an outsider’s perspective felt profoundly strange.
But why was Amy appearing now? Did I misinterpret this as a mental attack?
—Purification.

Still feeling puzzled, I sent her back into the mist.
That should do it.
Or so I thought—until I turned my head.

My vision was suddenly flooded with gold.
[Hi! I'm Amy.]
[Hi! I'm—.]

[Hi!]
[Hi—.]
With every blink, the crowd multiplied exponentially.

I let out a hollow laugh.
"…I should find Cruello first."
***

The man's face was paler than it had been in a long time.
With the back of his hand pressed against his lips, Cruello glared ahead.
A dense fog swirled behind countless blonde girls.

In a way, it was a familiar sight.
"Heh…"
After Amy Royalsand’s death, he had succumbed to madness.

At first, every blonde-haired girl he saw looked like Amy.
Then, gender no longer mattered.
Next, neither did age.

And eventually, even hair color became irrelevant.
Every person in the world became Amy. He called everyone Amy.
Until he met someone.

[Does your head hurt, Roy?]
[Are you okay? Do you want to lie down and rest?]
Gentle concern layered over itself in a chorus of voices.

Rather than warmth, all he could feel was something grotesque.
He had cast hallucination-dispelling magic multiple times, but the figures would only disappear momentarily before returning.
As if an enormous power source was endlessly supplying them with mana.

And that could only mean—
"Beatitudo."
Looking back, it was absurd.

He had known the Elder Council was gathering Beatitudo.
But they had never once confirmed its actual use.
Once he discovered how dangerous it was, he had completely dismissed it.

It was something no human could possibly wield.
It had been prepared for the successor who would consume Morion.
That had been the reasoning—it should be fine.

Naïve. Foolish.
He had known it was a trap. He had convinced himself he could handle it.
If anything, he had thought he might even gain something from it.

No.
Strictly speaking, he wasn’t in danger.