The women I set free are obsessed with me

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"Yaaawn… Time's really dragging today."

In the Lord of Fracture's castle, Mikae, the night duty guard, yawned heavily.

Her drowsiness seemed contagious, causing Torres beside her to yawn as well.

"Huaaah, tch. You're right. Usually it'd be over by now, but today's just crawling by."

"Come on, can't you tell an interesting story or something?"

"Look at you. Want me to play the clown for you?"

"Aww, that's not it~ I just want to hear some heroic tales from my great senior. You've been here longer, so you must've seen a lot, right?"

Mikae smoothly dodged the question with practiced ease, and the gullible Torres fell for Mikae's flattery without much suspicion.

"Well, that's true. I've been working here for ten years now. There's nothing I haven't seen."

"So tell me something interesting."

"Hmm, what story should I tell? Ah, how about this. Did you know? There was once a witch who entered Fracture."

"Of course I know. I heard it caused quite an uproar. Why? Did you catch the witch, senior?"

Torres shook his head.

"Not the witch, but I caught the witch's father. That bastard not only sired a witch but tried to hide her. He was so heinous that even under torture, he didn't utter a word."

"Protecting a witch. He must have been out of his mind."

Torres sighed, looking exhausted as if even recalling that time made him sick.

"He must have been bewitched. Otherwise, who would protect a witch? Well, no need to worry. I ended that bastard's life with my own hands. When we hanged him and he was struggling, I used a knife to… Hey, what's with that expression?"

Torres couldn't finish his reenactment of the scene. Mikae's expression was off somehow.

Her face had drained of all color, like someone who had seen something they shouldn't have. As if a living person had just witnessed Death itself.

"S-Senior… Be-Behind…"

"Huh? Behind?"

Torres turned around with a bored expression. Behind him, a Grim Reaper wielding a scythe floated in the air, trailing indigo smoke.

Torres blinked dumbly.

"Did I doze off…?"

Torres rubbed his eyes.

He rubbed his eyes, but no matter how much he blinked, the Reaper didn't disappear. It was then that he realized this wasn't a dream but reality.

"W-What the hell!"

Torres tried to draw his sword in panic.

But the Reaper's scythe was faster, slicing through him.

Splattt!

"Guh."

Blood sprayed in an arc following the scythe's path. With a single groan, Torres's upper and lower body collapsed diagonally like sliced cheese.

A pure white soul separated from Torres's fallen body, circling the Reaper.

"Eeeek!"

Mikae let out a high-pitched scream and collapsed, drenched in Torres's blood.

Death is inherently a being that harvests lives, and the aura of death emanating from the Reaper was enough to instill primal fear in the living. Mikae shook like a leaf, her lower body growing wet as a trickling sound echoed in the corridor.

"P-Please s-spare…"

She tried to beg, her words barely coming out. The Reaper gazed down at Mikae before approaching.

Mikae curled up, covering her face with her arms, but the Reaper simply passed through her and disappeared down the corridor.

She turned around with a dazed expression.

Moments later, horrific screams echoed through the castle several times from the direction the Reaper had vanished.

This is hell.

This must be a dream. Yeah, this can't be real. When I wake up, I'll see the familiar ceiling of my quarters.

Mikae stopped thinking and collapsed backward with a thud.

***

"Hold on! Keep holding!"

At the cathedral of the Agartha branch in the city.

A Reaper, appearing as if from thin air, was hacking relentlessly at the barrier spread over the cathedral with its scythe.

"I can't hold it anymore!"

One of the priests maintaining the barrier shouted, his face drenched in sweat.

This was no ordinary Reaper.

It was an embodiment of murderous resentment and powerful mana.

Moreover, the Reaper's attacks were infused with such intense hostility that it seemed as if the barrier contained the very enemy of its parents.

Crack!

The barrier split with a thunderous sound under the Reaper's blow.

Seven clergy members combined their powers in a desperate attempt to repair the barrier, but it was futile. From the moment the first attack breached their defenses, an irreparable crack had formed.

Fragments fell from the barrier.

Its complete destruction was only a matter of time.

The Reaper raised its scythe high, then swung down with enough force to split the moon in half.

This attack couldn't be stopped.

Everyone sensed it.

"It's br-breaking!"

The scythe fell in a semicircular arc.

CRASH!

The barrier shattered instantly, unable to withstand the impact. The clergy maintaining it were thrown back from the sheer force.

The cathedral, now without its barrier, became a stage for the Reaper.

The Reaper flew freely above people's heads. It moved its head as if searching for someone.

Its glowing eyes locked onto two individuals. In an instant, the Reaper closed the distance and swung its scythe. A paladin was sliced through, his holy armor no different from paper.

"Guh."

The Reaper's actions continued. Its head creaked as it turned.

The priest who met its gaze flinched as if struck by lightning. He stumbled back a few steps before breaking into a desperate sprint. The Reaper gave chase, gliding through the air with unnatural speed.

"W-Why me of all people?! There are so many others here!"

The priest ran as if quite accustomed to fleeing. The goddess of luck must have smiled upon him as he narrowly avoided the scythe by a hair's breadth.

But luck held no sway over death incarnate. The Reaper swung its scythe in a wide arc.

A crescent-shaped slash shot out from the scythe.

"W-Wait a secoooond—!!"

The fleeing priest turned back, reaching out his hand in a futile plea.

Slice.

With a soft cutting sound, the priest's body was cleaved vertically. His screaming face split into left and right halves.

The souls of the two clergy members who had now become mere lumps of flesh escaped from their bodies.

"I-It's taking their souls! S-Stop it! Stop it by any means necessary!"

The paladins swung their swords, and the priests cast blessings, but they were all easily nullified by the Reaper's scythe.

"Everything's ready!"

Just as a priest who had gathered their utmost holy power was about to unleash a divine spell.

Whoosh.

The Reaper vanished as if sucked into a single point.

Was it lurking in wait?

Or merely biding its time?

They remained vigilant, never lowering their guards, and it wasn't until the first light of dawn crept across the sky that they realized the Reaper had truly disappeared.

For a moment, they wondered if they had been bewitched by the Reaper during the night, but the corpses sprawled on the floor reminded them that it had all been real.

That night, the Reaper had claimed twelve lives.

All of their souls had vanished without a trace.

***

As the sun rose.

The Agent of the Hand of the Death God—in other words, the subcontractor's subcontractor—returned after completing its revenge.

The great scythe was drenched in blood.

Twelve souls floated around the Reaper.

These were the souls of those who had directly harmed Mirabelle's parents. Now that their souls were in the Reaper's grasp, their souls would never find peace.

They would be trapped in an endless cycle of torment until their souls eroded away.

Is this… the end?

Mirabelle, having completed her revenge, was looking up at the sky. Her profile as she gazed at the dawn seemed somewhat relieved, much better than before.

Mirabelle had grown once again today.

Perhaps because she had been acknowledged as its master upon reading the grimoire, the book that should have been reduced to ashes appeared at her call.

It was shocking to turn Dad into a Grim Reaper, but…

I guess that means he wanted to stay with me that much.

Hand of the Death God.

Witch of Judgment.

And the Soul Grimoire.

Those three elements intertwined, giving birth to a certain magic. Without guidance or instruction, she had reached a realm where she could create original spells.

There was no longer any need to get involved with Mirabelle.

Neither in terms of growth.

Nor mentally.

"Miss Mirabelle, it's time to leave. It will get noisy once people wake up."

"…"

Mirabelle, lost in thought, just stared at the sky without answering. Meanwhile, people started coming out to prepare for business. I made eye contact with a middle-aged woman, and her gaze fell on the girl's skull in my hand.

"Uh… Huh? That…"

"Good morning, ma'am."

"What? Oh, good morning. No, more important, that thing in your hand is…?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm just returning it where it belongs."

Unfortunately, the shock seemed too great to gloss over. The woman's eyes widened for a moment, and I thought she might faint.

"Th-Thief! He's stealing the witch's skull!"

"Haha, stealing? This doesn't belong to you people. Even I, a slave trader, am not that unconscientious."

I believed the truth was worth repeating, no matter how many times I was asked. But in this world, saying the right things didn't always make things go smoothly. If it did, I wouldn't be called a Grim Reaper.

I grabbed the still dazed Mirabelle and ran. Fortunately, no guards chased after us. Who would go chasing thieves after all that chaos in the early morning?

Taking advantage of the lax security, we ran through the city gates and escaped Fracture. What a trash city. I was never coming back here again.

Now, our destination would be the final stop where the true ending of the story was hidden. It was near Fracture, so we didn't need to take a carriage.

Mirabelle's ending route was largely divided into three paths.

The first was recovery.

This was possible anytime as long as we treated her mental state.

The second was revenge.

After mastering the Soul Grimoire, we'd meet Harold's soul in Fracture, learn the details, and confront the sources of her tragedy.

And the final route.

The keyword is reunion.

A meeting with a precious person thought to be eternally separated.

It was time to go meet Mirabelle's mother.