Vienny was beginning to find her stability. She had become quite devoted to the gardening she did for exercise, and listening to Corinne’s chatter wasn’t unpleasant. The awkwardness with Moiria, who stayed at the villa even though she said her work was done, had also faded. She had even felt comfortable enough to thank Hans before he filled her room with firewood.

And last night she had grown strong enough to let Gentian go alone when he asked her to go with him.

“Are you serious?”

Gentian asked again and again in disbelief. He must have assumed from the beginning that Vienny would leave with him, planning everything based on that expectation.

Despite easily guessing his intentions, Vienny, though feeling apologetic, stood firm in her decision.

“But En, just because he hasn’t come yet doesn’t mean he never will.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“En!”

“Gentian. I want you to be happy.”

Gentian seemed to have a lot to say, but Vienny didn’t want to hear any more of it, so she shook her head.

Seeing the look on his face, as if he might cry at any moment, Gentian must have sensed he couldn’t persuade her and quickly gave up. Instead, he tried his best to smile.

“En, I want you to be happy too. No, actually…”

After hesitating, his voice lowered slightly as he continued.

“I hope you want to live.”

How did she feel back then? She could hardly remember. But if wanting to live meant wanting to see that sunset again tomorrow, then perhaps she already wanted to live.

If wanting to live meant wanting to laugh again at Corinne’s chatter tomorrow, or to see the newly sprouted buds in the garden, then yes—she already wanted to live.

Or perhaps…

“Vienny.”

If wanting to live meant yearning to hear that man’s voice again, the one that had echoed around her like an illusion.

“…Vienny.”

This time the foam, which had always retreated after touching the sand, reached her toes and dampened them slightly. The cold water on her skin caused her frozen thoughts to slowly flow again.

As she blinked slowly, the tears that had gathered finally spilled down her cheeks. She tried to speak, but a burning lump seemed stuck in her throat, making any sound impossible.

After steadying her blurred vision, Vienny slowly stood up. Taking a deep breath, she turned around carefully, and there he stood, watching her silently. In that moment, the last remnants of the Great Witch’s power crumbled away, leaving no trace behind.

“…Do you hate seeing me so much that it makes you cry?”

McClart’s expression hardened when he saw Vienny’s face.

“Wasn’t it you who sent the flock of crows? That was…”

He trailed off, as if silently questioning whether his actions had, at the very least, been acceptable to her. Vienny, who had been watching him quietly, slowly parted her lips.

“Inquisitor.”

McClart, who had been stumbling over his words, fell silent. Vienny continued in a steady voice.

“The power faded just a moment ago.”

The man’s expression softened slightly.

“Completely.”

“So you’re no longer the Great Witch, then.”

His voice came out quickly, betraying the impatience and anxiety he was feeling.

“Do you still want to die?”

McClart stepped a bit closer to Vienny. His face had grown sharper, likely from the weight he had lost, making his expression seem harsher. It contrasted sharply with Vienny, who had gained a bit of weight during her time here.

His rough, dry lips parted again, his tone growing even more irritable.

“Or do you want to run away?”

He looked ready to grab her at the slightest hint of agreement.

Even though it had been quite a long time since they had last seen each other, his demeanor felt far from unfamiliar, and Vienny wetted her lips, almost absentmindedly. It struck her as strange that his manner—so seemingly unchanged, yet subtly different—no longer frightened her.

As McClart appeared ready to say something, likely out of frustration from her silence, Vienny finally spoke.

“I waited because there was something I wanted to ask.”

McClart, ready to push her further, closed his mouth tightly and held his breath, waiting for Vienny to speak. He was still impatient, brusque and left many things unsaid, but Vienny felt that she now understood, at least a little, what emotions lay beneath it all.

“Even if the high priest had died, the holy power wouldn’t have disappeared, would it?”

His blue eyes remained fixed on her.

“From the beginning, the source of the holy power was you, Inquisitor.”

His eyes were the colour of the water Vienny had once been immersed in.

Looking into those eyes, now calm and serene, she suddenly realised that she had been submerged all along. She didn’t know when it had started, but by now it seemed pointless to try to find out.

“Those who bear holy power must serve him faithfully, with a heart purer than any other. And I broke that vow a long time ago.”

His voice, blunt as ever, carried a hint of pain, yet it didn’t seem conflicted. In a way, he even seemed at peace.

Peaceful. Vienny found it strange that her mind had settled on that word—peace, gained from abandoning a god.

“And yet God was infinitely merciful to me. If I hadn’t soiled my hands with my father’s blood, He would probably not have forsaken me.”

Vienny’s eyes, which had been trembling slightly, finally turned away. Her lips, pressed together tightly, stung faintly.

“Why did you go that far?”

“Because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

There was an almost blind devotion in his words. She didn’t quite understand, but it seemed that perhaps this blind devotion was McClart’s only way of expressing his feelings. After a lifetime of serving the god, it was probably all he knew. There was no other way for him.

“Is your refusal to answer me because you still don’t trust me?”

Even when he spoke of abandoning the god, his face had remained calm, but now it flickered with unease.

In the face of such blind emotion, Vienny didn’t know what to say, so she held her lips tightly shut for a long time. Then she looked out to sea. The vivid, burning colours had disappeared and darkness had quickly set in, hiding the horizon.

“The sunset here is beautiful.”

Vienny, who had been fidgeting with her clasped hands, bit her lower lip hard.

“But the moment I looked away, everything faded.”

“What do you…?”

“You asked me if I was curious about a life without being the Great Witch.”

McClart’s breath caught in shock. The question of whether she was curious about a life without being the Great Witch was one he had asked at her bedside when she was still unconscious.

Vienny continued calmly, making him freeze.

“I am curious. The sunsets here never get old, no matter how often I see them.”

Soon it would be completely dark. It would be impossible to tell where the sea ended and the sky began, everything would blend into an indistinguishable void. Only the sound of the waves would indicate that the sea stretched far out.

Wasn’t that enough? There was no need to strain to find and distinguish the horizon. There was nothing wrong with letting everything flow into a black abyss – undefined, blended, without boundaries.

Vienny liked to watch the sunset. That moment just before the horizon disappeared, when the colours blurred together, preparing to merge into the dark abyss – that was her favourite part.

“What about you, Inquisitor? Would a life without being an Inquisitor be all right for you?”

Perhaps it was the growing darkness, but Vienny couldn’t quite make out McClart’s expression, even though he was standing close by.

After opening his mouth several times as if to speak, he finally forced his words out in a tightly controlled voice.

“If I stay here, will you not run away?”

It was a question, but also a request for permission.

Vienny tilted her head slightly, lost in thought for a moment, before answering calmly.

“I have to pull the weeds out of the garden tomorrow, but I don’t have the manpower.”

Normally she would have had Gentian’s help, but he had already left.

“Will you help me?”

McClart was silent for a long time. Vienny, who had been watching his shadowed face, finally lowered her gaze and added quietly.

“If I take care of it for a few more months, the evening primroses will be blooming everywhere. They say it’s going to be really beautiful.”

She hadn’t said anything particularly significant, but the longer McClart remained silent, the more uncomfortable Vienny felt.

The sky, once a pale blue, had darkened rapidly and was now quite gloomy. By now Corinne was probably waiting with dinner ready. She had insisted that Vienny not skip dinner today, as she had prepared meat especially for her health.

“If you need more time to think, maybe we could…”

“Next year.”

“What?”

“What should we plant in the garden next year?”

Vienny missed her chance to answer, staring blankly at McClart, surprised by his unexpected question.

The man, who had been standing still without moving closer, suddenly closed the distance and stood directly in front of her.

“And the year after?”

Before she could answer, he asked another question, and Vienny answered instinctively.

“I’ll think about it.”

McClart let out a small sigh, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

His warm breath reached Vienny, who was standing so close to him. Feeling that warmth, the sense of familiarity she had tried to ignore suddenly returned.

Her eyes narrowing slightly, Vienny managed to steady her voice, which had almost wavered.

“Will you think about it with me?”

At her question, the man’s brow furrowed as if on the verge of tears. After a long pause, his deep voice, as calm as the sound of the waves, finally gave a quiet reply.

“…Alright.”

The coldness that had lingered on his lips was swallowed by the deep darkness and the horizon disappeared. It was impossible to tell where the sky ended and the sea began, but she no longer wondered.

They had finally merged into one, a single colour, and that was enough.

**The End**