With experience on his side, Klein quickly composed—no, designed—a ceremony process for Alice. Now the only problem was…
"Herbs and hydrosols that I like?" Alice asked seriously after listening to the prayer content, rubbing her chin. "Why can't we use ice cream?"
"…Have you considered," Klein tactfully reminded her, "that herbs and hydrosols can be carried around, but ice cream can't."
Alice suddenly missed the storage pouch on Amon that could preserve freshness.
She really wanted it… Oh right, she still hadn't properly mocked Amon yet.
Alice silently made a note of that, then sighed and said, "Let's try using some herbs from potion formulas, like lavender, datura, clover, violet, lily of the valley, and so on…" (Note ①)
Klein agreed.
Alice wasn't sure at what stage she had gained the ability to automatically respond to ceremonies. Mainly because she skipped over that part, but in short, she could automatically respond to prayers and rituals—rather than watching every single one.
But that required a fixed ceremonial process.
—Otherwise, these rituals might end up being casually performed by others, and she'd respond just as casually, without any consistency…
Ah, the good news was, if that happened, she wouldn't have to worry about people tracking her down.
No, actually, she would still need to worry. After all, a Honorific Name couldn't just… uh, why couldn't the Honorific Name be casually recited and she just pick which ones to respond to…
As soon as that thought popped up, Alice sternly suppressed it, warning herself never to do something like that—it was way too absurd. If any religion operated like that, it'd be famous for sure.
Wait, actually… no, stop! Don't think about it anymore!
To stop herself from doing anything even more ridiculous, Alice decided to go bully Amon.
To my dearest friend, Amon:
I only recently realized that you actually come from a very distant past—was it the Second Epoch or the Third?
And back then, you were the son of the Creator—what does that mean? In our era, that would be like… the Crown Prince!
Oh, you might not know what that term means. Um… it's kind of like the heir to the throne here?
I mean, assuming there's no extraordinary powers involved, your status would be like royalty's heir… Anyway, you get what I mean, right?
Also, I remember you were already the King of Angels from birth, right?
Someone like you! With such noble birth, such extraordinary status! And such great power! Actually spent! Thousands of years! And still didn't become a god!
You're such a failure of a time angel!
This must be because you don't eat properly, don't sleep on time, and don't enjoy life's pleasures enough.
Oh, and at the end of this letter, I want to ask a very offensive question—not that kind of offensive, just a totally normal kind!
The Worm of Time… can it be eaten?
I don't mean as an ingredient in a potion, I mean as an ordinary cooking ingredient. Like, can it be used in food, dear Time Angel?
If it can, what's the best way to cook it? Can normal cooking methods work? Does it need extraordinary powers in the cooking process?
Please, I'm begging you, tell me. I'm really curious…
Also, is your brother good-tempered?
Sincerely,
Alice, who wants to know if the Worm of Time is edible.
After finishing the letter, Alice suddenly thought of a question:
"Come to think of it, I have a special channel to Amon… If someone else were to pray to Amon or perform some kind of ceremony, what would happen?"
Remembering Amon's tone when inviting her to become his Blessed, Alice shivered.
Hmm… could this be considered a trial version of divine power? The kind that comes with a risk of identity theft… I get it now, this is telecom fraud!
Enlightened, Alice smacked the table with a dramatic gesture—then, seeing the faint cracks appear on it, silently pulled her hand back.
…Mythical creatures really do have abnormal physical strength.
To avoid paying for hotel damages, Alice restored the table, then quietly got up to prepare the ceremony.
In the Forsaken Land, after reading the letter, Amon adjusted the monocle over his right eye. After a moment's thought, he spread his hand—and a few Worms of Time flapped into existence in his palm.
"…How did she even come up with this?" Amon muttered in confusion to himself. Then, suddenly, he chuckled. "Still, even though they contain extraordinary properties, maybe it's really possible to cook them into a dish…"
Watching the Worms of Time merge back into his hand, Amon adjusted his monocle again and murmured thoughtfully:
"Still, the cooking process probably would require the involvement of extraordinary power… hmm… better to run an experiment before replying. Let me see if I can find the right materials…
"Come to think of it, did she just look down on me? Hmm, what did that last sentence mean? What did she come up with this time?"
After doing all that, Alice glanced at the sky outside.
Night had already fallen—though not yet the dead of night, still, one had to admit… Bayam's nightlife was far livelier than Backlund's.
Alice let out a sigh, trying to appear solemn, and gave up on waiting until the dead of night. Her figure disappeared from the room.
—"The Hermit" Cattleya had indeed reminded her of something. For example, when she did certain things, she ought to leave her name behind.
Without a name, how could her deeds be passed on?
Alice silently appeared outside the ticketing company, drew a Tarot deck, pulled out the "Wheel of Fortune" card, and after a moment's thought, used the rest of the cards to lay out a grand equation on the ground.
—"1 + 1 = 2."
This world didn't have Arabic numerals, but Emperor Roselle had once written them down. Alice wasn't sure whether any exceptionally gifted individuals could decipher it—after all, this world never lacked geniuses.
Of course, that didn't matter. Or rather, it was just what Alice wanted: let people put in the effort to decipher it, only to discover it meant nothing. How amusing.
Alice's lips curved up in a smirk. She didn't put down the "Wheel of Fortune" card though, and silently slipped into the ticketing office.
The dark night no longer limited her vision. She found the notice board with the empty passenger ships, wiped off the original writing, and wrote something new:
"Although the St. Furran will encounter a shipwreck on this voyage and eventually sink, everyone on board will be miraculously rescued.
No one will lose their life to the disaster, and no families will be torn apart—everyone will be safe."
After that, she gently placed the "Wheel of Fortune" card on it and disappeared from sight.