As they entered the village, wary eyes followed them.
Carne was remote; strangers always drew suspicion.
But the moment villagers recognized Nfirea, their expressions relaxed.
He was well-liked here.
Even so—
The sight of a full-armored black knight—Momon—made everyone stiffen in fear.
Only after noticing her copper plate did they tentatively accept she wasn't a noble knight.
Momonga realized something.
(…Right. I never showed them this form.)
She had appeared here only as Albedo—the winged, demonic beauty.
Her armor, however, was entirely new.
(Ah… they must have thought I abandoned them and left forever…)
She almost sighed.
She considered how best to handle this, given Carne Village must never reveal the truth—
that Momon and Albedo were one and the same.
As she debated the issue—
She spotted a familiar little figure peeking nervously from behind a house.
Nemu.
A wicked little impulse struck.
(…Heh.)
She walked toward the girl.
"—You there. Stop."
She deliberately deepened her voice.
Nemu froze like a frightened rabbit, turning slowly.
Momon knelt to meet her eye level.
"Nice to meet you, young lady."
"H-hi…"
Then—
"I've heard that you know Albedo."
Nemu gasped.
"Y-you know Albedo-sama!?"
He smiled beneath the helmet.
"Oh, yes. I know her very well. Do you like her?"
"Y-yes! She's kind, and pretty, and—and really cool!"
"I see. Then there's something I want to show you."
"Huh…?"
Slowly… theatrically…
She reached up, gripped the helmet—
—and lifted it off.
"Ta-da."
Silence.
"…Eh…?"
Nemu's eyes went round.
She froze like a statue.
Momonga panicked internally.
(Eh!? No reaction!? Did I miscalculate!? Did she forget me!? Did she never like me that much!? Did my joke FAIL!?!?)
Then—
"…ah."
A breathless sound escaped the girl.
Recognition dawned.
Shock bloomed.
The dangerous black knight…
…was her beloved goddess.
The one who saved her village.
Who patted her head.
Who shone like the sun.
"Al…bedo…?"
Before Momonga could confirm—
Nemu burst into a radiant smile and hurled herself into her chest.
Momonga nearly collapsed in relief.
Elsewhere…
Inside Enri's house, Nfirea glanced toward the window.
"Sounds noisy outside."
"Sounds like Nemu, but… I wonder what happened?"
Enri's cheeks were slightly streaked—not from sadness now, but from telling Nfirea about the tragedy. Her parents' deaths. The village's grief. The burden left behind.
And the nameless warrior who saved them all.
She didn't mention Albedo's name or form—those details were forbidden from spreading. She only described the bare minimum.
Nfirea didn't yet connect that warrior to Momon.
Not until he saw something on the table:
A red potion.
The unmistakable bottle.
Nfirea's breath hitched.
"E-Enri… this—is this—"
"Oh, the warrior left them for us. Told us to drink them if anyone gets hurt. Strange color, right?"
"A-am I allowed to… examine it…?"
"Sure, but… Nfirea, your eyes look scary…"
He picked up the vial with trembling fingers.
His mind spun.
(Impossible… this purity… this viscosity… this sheen… It's the real thing. The true healing potion. The god-blood.)
Not a single alchemist in the kingdom could replicate it.
Yet here it was—three bottles—lying casually on the table.
He felt faint.
He wanted it.
Desperately.
But even stronger than greed—
Was guilt.
The warrior who saved the woman he loved…
The one whose motives he had suspected…
The one he had tried to investigate secretly…
And that warrior might be Momon.
Shame burned in his chest.
He rushed outside.
"Where is Momon-san!?"
"Over there, playing with the kids."
He ran—and found Momonga with Nemu on her shoulders.
"Momon-san!"
She blinked as he approached.
"What's wrong, Nfirea?"
"S-sorry—could I… speak with you alone…?"
Nemu resisted leaving, but Momonga gently coaxed her away.
Then Nfirea held out the potion.
"This… you gave this to Enri… didn't you?"
"…Ah."
He explained everything—his suspicion, his guilt, his reasoning, his shame.
Then he bowed deeply.
"Thank you for saving Enri. Thank you for saving the village."
Momonga softened.
Nfirea was naive but sincere.
His honesty was refreshing.
"There's nothing to apologize for," she said gently.
"Huh…?"
"People seek connections. Tools. Knowledge. That's natural for an alchemist. You hurt no one. I'm not offended."
"Momon-san…"
She tilted her head.
"Let me ask: what would you do if you obtained this potion?"
"W-well… nothing practical. I just wanted to study it. For knowledge. Not money."
She smiled faintly.
(Cute kid.)
"Then take it."
"…EHH!?"
"You may keep it. On one condition:
You must not reveal that I saved the village.
Or the source of the potion."
Nfirea nearly burst into tears.
"T-thank you…! Thank you so much…!"
He cradled the bottle reverently—like holding a royal treasure.
"However," Momonga added, "in exchange, if I ever need help—any help—you must assist me."
"Of course! Anything! Anything at all!"
She nodded.
"Then the contract is sealed."
She placed the potion into his hands like a queen bestowing a sacred relic.
Nfirea trembled.
To him—Momonga truly was a mythical hero.