“There’s a concept called parallel worlds. The idea that there’s a different world following a similar path, separate from the one I’m living in right now.”

The voice suppressed any inflection, creating a monotonous sound.

The phraseology had a delightful rhythm of tiny fingertips tapping the table at regular intervals.

“Wow, such a complicated topic! I can hardly keep up!”

“It’s not that difficult to grasp. You can think of parallel worlds as being born infinitely by just making one different choice. For example, there’s a fork in the road on your way home. Both paths will lead home, but you—who went right—and you—who went left—those possibilities are already small-scale parallel worlds.”

“What? If you start saying that, we could never count how many worlds there are! That kind of thinking is just silly!”

In response to the exhausted voice, a spirited voice shot back impulsively.

The explaining voice chuckled at the quick response, pointing a finger at the lively speaker.

“That’s not something to look down on. Indeed, the previous analogy might have been too small in scope to convey the differences, but… it can be applied to bigger situations too.”

“Something bigger? Like what?”

“For instance, how about this? If you were able to abandon a desperate elf’s suicide squad on the Boroid Plain… what would happen then?”

“———”

“Hmm. I anticipated you would get furious here.”

“The reason I won’t get angry is simple. Even if that scene were repeated dozens, hundreds, or thousands of times, I would always charge in. There’s no way those so-called parallel worlds could exist!”

With a forceful conclusion, the speaker threw her raised foot down onto the table. Literally leaning back in a triumphant posture, the spirited speaker caused the one explaining to chuckle softly. Upon seeing that, the spirited speaker narrowed her beautifully shaped eyebrows.

“What are you laughing at?!”

“Well, it’s a manly act, but your underwear is showing, Minerva.”

“Ah, no! Wha—what’s with you, idiot! I can’t believe this! Idiot! Fool! Stupid! How can you be so dense? Really, what an absolute idiot!”

Screaming obscenities that showcased her limited vocabulary, the blonde girl—Minerva, the Witch of Wrath—lowered her tears and pressed her hands between her legs to close them.

With glaring eyes filled with anger, she looked straight ahead—at the white-haired witch facing her, but—

“Sigh. Regardless of whether it’s right to argue, well… about your underwear, sigh. It’s not my fault that shameless Minerva blew herself up. Sigh. Taking it out on others is quite unbecoming.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you, Sekhmet. You’re the one who looks like a total washout… How long has it been since you changed that robe?”

Minerva directed her harsh gaze sideways at Sekhmet—the Witch of Sloth, who was completely sprawled out with her long reddish-purple hair covering her face.

Sekhmet turned her head slightly from the sea of hair, peeking at Minerva through the gaps.

“I just put it on from head to toe, sigh. It’s the most comfortable outfit, sigh. Since I’m letting Typhon do the cleaning for me, sigh. It’s not like I’m getting dirty, sigh.”

“You criticize others’ appearances while being like that… It’s just so… so… what’s going on!? Am I at fault? Am I to blame? Do you want to be punched clean?!”

Minerva raised her fists in anger, but Sekhmet simply turned her face away.

The lack of will to engage in conversation made the veins pop on Minerva’s forehead, but the witch, who had grown accustomed to her anger, completely abandoned the desire to touch her.

In the place of the now demotivated Witch of Sloth, clapping her hands was the witch who had been conversing with Minerva originally—Echidna, the Witch of Greed.

“I understand your anger, and I appreciate it too. However, I want to continue the story we were talking about before.”

“You’re the one who provoked me about parallel worlds, acting all cheeky! I’m angry! I’m furious! I’m enraged!”

“Okay, okay. That said, let’s continue the discussion about parallel worlds. If the previous example doesn’t hold… what if Flugel hadn’t formed a pact with Volcanica? What do you think would have happened?”

With a finger on her lips and a mischievous grin, Echidna posed the question to Minerva. In response, Minerva took a sharp breath, narrowing her azure eyes.

“If there had been no pact between Volcanica and Flugel, then Raid alone wouldn’t be enough to stop that kid… the world would get swallowed up!”

“If it got swallowed, what do you think would happen? Would the world revolve around just one person, the Witch of Envy? Or perhaps that world too exists as a parallel world somewhere. If so, doesn’t that sound interesting?”

“Echidna, you always have a nasty look when talking about that kid. I’m not that mad at her. I don’t want to share that anger.”

“That’s one possible answer. Your anger is delightful. And that’s why you were the most lovable witch among witches.”

Echidna spoke in the past tense, and in front of such Echidna, Minerva snorted softly. She crossed her arms and arched her back to push out her ample chest.

“I don’t want to be loved. What I desire is to eradicate all conflict from this world, to destroy the voices of anguish and sobbing with my fists. Nothing else is needed on my path. My anger, my wrath—this fist of healing is all that matters.”

Minerva declared, her life devoid of any cloudiness.

No hesitation, no doubts, no regrets—such conviction was untainted by any stumbling elements.

Indeed, “Wrath”—an endless rage toward the world supported, crafted, and constructed her very being.

But—

“Well, even so, when you’re praised, you can’t help but grin a bit. That’s what makes Nernel so cute.”

A voice with a distinct lazy tone interjected the conversation.

The voice came from the left side of Minerva, right across from Sekhmet.

“Nernel’s stubbornness, it’s on par with a witch, don’t you think? I could just eat that adorably stubborn side of Nernel up,” Daphne, the Witch of Gluttony, chirped.

“Shut up, Daphne. You’ve been sleeping until just now, so why are you awake all of a sudden?”

“I’ve been awake since Nernel was making a ruckus and flashing her underwear around. She’s wearing such a short skirt that as soon as she moves, her cute underwear is visible, Nernel!”

“Wha—yours is even worse! You, a younger one, choose something way too revealing! What even is that? That’s not underwear; it’s a string! Idiot! Stupid! You’re such an idiot! Honestly, how can you be so hopelessly dumb! Idiot! Idiot!”

With her face flushed, Minerva yelled, her eyes brimming with tears from her rising emotions. Daphne, the Witch of Gluttony, listened to this merrily, ignoring the repeated insults.

Bound in a restraint suit from head to toe, with her eyes covered by diagonal eyepatches, that strangely little body was encased in a black coffin, which was somehow considered normal as part of the tea party.

Minerva, exhausted from throwing insults (even though they were just about being stupid), slumped into her seat, covering her face with her hands, and buried herself into the table.

“What’s wrong? Am I to blame? I’m not doing this for compliments, but if I get one, of course, it makes me happy. What’s wrong with feeling that way? If someone tells me ‘thank you,’ wouldn’t it make me feel like I did well? Am I at fault? Am I to blame? I want everyone to be healed, and I want to be healed too…”

“I believe it’s admirable that you can’t throw yourself into despair there. —Now then.”

Ignoring Minerva, who was drowning in self-questioning, Echidna turned her gaze toward Daphne, who had joined the conversation.

Daphne, with her eyes covered, could not possibly notice Echidna’s gaze, yet she adorably twitched her little nose.

“Donna, why are you staring at me? Unlike Nernel and Metmet, I can’t stick around patiently to chat. In fact… We’re almost out of calories, you know?”

“I thought you had learned not to expect cooperation from witches… but at this rate, I’m proud of you for how far we’ve come in our discussions.”

As she spoke, Echidna snapped her fingers.

Suddenly, a steaming cup and a plate of cookies appeared in front of Daphne. Her eyes widened in surprise at the food’s arrival, and she perked up excitedly.

“Of course, I wasn’t planning to keep you waiting, so let’s start with the meal…”

“Gulpgulp. Munchmunch. Mmyumm.”

“It goes without saying. Ideally, I would prefer if you adhered to table manners.”

Shrugging, Echidna observed a scene where Daphne plunged her whole body into the table, consuming everything voraciously. —Daphne’s meals were literally performed with her whole body.

While she made chewing noises, it wasn’t her mouth that was taking in the tea and snacks, but rather, that they were absorbed directly through her skin. The tea and snacks were ingesting directly into Daphne’s body, instantly converted into food for Gluttony.

“Ahh, so delicious! So sweet! …Oh, pardon me! I got a bit too enthusiastic and nibbled on the table too.”

“I won’t say to not worry… but I did half-expect this would happen when I invited you over. I don’t expect more than you to show some restraint.”

“Are you telling Donna not to fly or to tell fish not to swim?”

In response to Daphne’s indirect absolute rejection, Echidna sighed. Shaking the crumbs off her entire body, Daphne continued.

“Now that I’ve filled my belly, I suppose I’ll indulge in whatever story Donna was about earlier. —Was it about parallel worlds or something?”

“That’s right. What do you think about such matters, Daphne?”

“I don’t think anything at all? Even if I think about how it happened and what would have happened… it won’t fill me up. Oh, but thinking whether I had meat or fish for dinner could be a branching topic; maybe it isn’t such a foolish thought after all!”

“Your understanding is impeccable, but… it seems purely discussing it isn’t intriguing enough. That wasn’t surprising, I suppose.”

Daphne, among the witches, is more easy-going and approachable.

The problem lies in her existence being a complete menace to other living beings, and her gentle nature being utterly incompatible with co-existing with “others.”

“In the end, it’s like this. Sigh. Thinking about parallel worlds is pointless, sigh. It’s just a waste of thought, you know?”

And thus the conversation wandered into a hopeless abyss when the Witch of Sloth, who had been leaning against the broken table, spoke up. Wrapped in her own long hair, her gaze fell upon Echidna and Daphne.

“You can think about such things and branch off into different worlds, sigh. You can contemplate that existence, but it’s not something you can know or experience, sigh. In that case, its existence is nothing more than an unreachable bubble of possibilities that pops and vanishes at the moment you touch it, sigh.”

“Indeed, from a realistic perspective, that’s how it will be. Though one can be aware of the existence of parallel worlds, they cannot observe them. ‘Parallel’—how aptly named. Two lines that never intersect; that is what parallel worlds standing in their own right refer to.”

“But, the second ‘Trial’ is different from that, right?”

Summarizing Sekhmet’s words, Minerva interjected with a sharp tone at the conclusion as she blushed with anger.

“Because Echidna wouldn’t bring that up unless it was going to turn out nasty. Isn’t that right? You nailed it there. You must have felt it hit home. If you didn’t want your guts spilled, perhaps you shouldn’t have hidden those painful things!”

“I find it troublesome to be confronted by your fury when I didn’t say anything… Well, I can’t deny it. After all, the second ‘Trial’ is indeed structured like that.”

Before Minerva, who thudded her fist on the table, causing it to dent, Echidna lightly raised her hand, and a black-covered book appeared in her grasp.

It was a forbidden tome containing all knowledge of the world, including the “past,” “future,” and “present,” owned solely by Echidna—”The Memory of the World.”

Echidna, the embodiment of curiosity, was in a position to know all information, knowledge, and history of this world if she chose to. However, it seemed she herself harbored aversion to handling the power of that forbidden tome due to her own temperament.

“The second ‘Trial’ reads the challenger’s heart and identifies branching points along the path they have walked—places that could be deemed ‘regrets’—and the memory of the world recreates the ‘impossible present’ had they made different choices. In terms of its nature, it’s somewhat easier to overcome compared to the first ‘Trial,’ which symbolizes past mistakes and the third ‘Trial’ that awaits beyond this one.”

“What do you mean it’s easier to overcome?”

“It’s simply a matter of resolution, like what Daphne did. Sekhmet mentioned it too: in the end, parallel worlds are but ultimately separate lines that cannot touch. Even if regrets exist, even if attachments remain, those lines cannot be reached.”

“But being able to edge up to that unreachable line is your ‘Trial,’ right?!”

With a fuming expression, Minerva glared at Echidna, who simply shrugged her shoulders.

Echidna stroked her white hair, soothing Minerva’s irritation.

“Overcoming the second ‘Trial’ is relatively easy for an average person. Unlike the first ‘Trial,’ where one must surpass the past that went astray, the second ‘Trial’ only touches upon ‘possibilities that could have been.’ Whether you approach parallel worlds with denial or affirmation is entirely up to you, but… as long as you can approve of the current world, that’s enough.”

“The original, world…”

“Thus, it brings us back to the discussion of resolution. It’s a simple resolution that Sekhmet, Daphne, or even you could manage. —If you can do that, you can overcome the ‘Trial.'”

Minerva pulled her chin into her collar and reluctantly listened to Echidna’s explanation.

Indeed, based on what Echidna said, the contents of the ‘Trial’ didn’t seem that severe.

For the witches present here—assuming they’re not witches, even those with a strong sense of self would find overcoming the ‘Trial’ easy.

“But then, why has Subaru been struggling so much? I didn’t see him as someone without a self…”

“—In his case, though.”

Reflecting on her memories of Subaru, Daphne inexplicably began mumbling. Ignoring her actions, Echidna closed her eyes and contemplated, saying,

“The second ‘Trial’ involves observing parallel worlds. In a sense, it’s showing one the regrets beyond the past. And as I mentioned earlier, it can be approached with both affirmation and denial. —Indeed, one can brush it off as not having really lived through those results.”

However, Echidna continued.

“Only in his case does that not apply. It was truly unexpected how deeply the second ‘Trial’ affected him. —It really took me by surprise.”

“Sniff… I can smell that Donna is smiling with glee.”

“You’re delighted by the unexpected, aren’t you? So naughty and perverted… utterly hopeless.”

“Birds of a feather flock together. If you’re my friend, you can’t escape that.”

As Daphne laughed, Minerva fumed indignantly. Noticing the faint sounds of snoring coming from Sekhmet, who had suddenly gone quiet, Echidna swayed the back of her chair. Then,

“Donna~! Typhon is hungry too!”

A girl ran over from the grassland, leaping onto the table on the hill, and called out to Echidna.

With short green hair and brown skin, the girl with a dazzling smile was Typhon, the Witch of Pride.

Without getting tangled up in the difficult conversation, Echidna smiled at the girl who had been passing time in the field.

“I’m sorry for making you bored. Would you like your tea… shall I make it sweet? And are the snacks okay to eat normally?”

“Anything’s fine. After running around, I’m just thirsty and hungry, so I’ll eat and rest.”

Cheerfully saying that, Typhon took an empty seat next to Sekhmet. Then she began to play with Sekhmet’s long hair with one hand while devouring the tea and snacks Echidna had conjured, making a mess of both her face and the table.

If you didn’t know Typhon’s true nature, it would almost be a heartwarming scene.

“I bet you are also tired from looking after Typhon, right?”

“N-no, not at all? T-Typhon’s a good girl, and she’s just… uhm, not really… okay, not okay? I-I’m fine. I’m tough.”

Next to Echidna, a person who had arrived late to the tea party answered hesitantly, wearing a weak smile.

With pale pink hair flowing down to her waist, she was a strikingly delicate girl. While her features weren’t particularly standout, something about her naturally drew one’s gaze.

More than anything, her almost small-animal-like demeanor and expressions greatly tugged at the heartstrings.

“Please sit, Carmilla. —There’s a reason I called you here.”

“W-what’s this… about? Is it going to be scary?”

“It won’t be scary or painful, I assure you. —I just need your help in moving the pieces around the board.”

Settling into the seat next to her as encouraged, Carmilla—the Witch of Lust—glanced at Echidna anxiously. Echidna smiled warmly at her and lightly spread her arms wide.

“I want you to use your love to save the lost little lambs.”

Echidna said this and extended her open hands toward trembling Carmilla.