12 O'Clock Marionette

Chapter 42

[Date Unknown

"The Recanon paladins have pursued us to our doorstep."

"To make matters worse, the other priests are also losing their divine power."

"If we retreat deeper into hiding, monsters will surely appear. How can I protect them when I can no longer use divine strength?"]

[Date Unknown

"Ah, Pebula."

"Forgive your foolish servant for doubting you."

"In the end, we encountered the monsters."@@@@

"As we all cowered in despair, the parchment began to glow."

"A storm arose, forming a creature that resembled the legendary beast of old."

"At first, I thought it was a divine beast. But soon, I realized it was what the world calls a spirit."

"How could a priest form a contract with something other than the divine? And yet, I knew this was your will. I accepted it."

"From now on, I am...."]

[Date Unknown

"We have finally escaped Recanon’s pursuit."

"It was thanks to the spirit."

"After much deliberation, we split into two groups."

"Those who chose to uphold Pebula’s will took Recanon’s sacred relic and left."

"The others remained."

"We are no longer priests. We are now spiritists."

"This was your guidance. Was it not, O divine one?"]

[Date Unknown

"Today, I offer my final prayer to you."

"My fate, my master, my god."

"Foolish as I was, I have rejected the path of a servant and chosen instead the one you have newly illuminated."

"Our names shall no longer be spoken alongside Pebula’s."

"Yet even after making this choice, we still feel your presence."

"And I believe that on the path ahead, your gaze will follow us still."]

[Date Unknown

"To the descendants who read this journal."

"You are likely faithless ones who will never reach the divine."

"But to forget even the being that started it all—such an act of betrayal is beyond even beasts."

"Pass down these words to the future generations."

"There is a god in Bonetti."

"She created our beginning, walks with us, and will safeguard our end."

"Thus, even in the fiercest of storms, we shall not lose our way."

"Never forget."

"The divine is with us."]

That was the final entry.

Just to be sure, I flipped through the next Count’s journal—

But the name Pebula was nowhere to be found.

However, the very last page contained the same phrase, copied exactly as the founder had written it.

Checking through the other Bonetti Counts’ journals yielded the same results.

“Hm.”

It felt strange.

The founder’s diary contained everything I knew about the Pebula faction.

The people of the vanished Fugah Shrine were my direct ancestors, while those who took the sacred relic must have been Mamic’s forebears.

I would need Mamic’s documents to be sure.

“...There’s barely any mention of the Evil God theory.”

The idea was mentioned but never elaborated on—nothing clarified whether it was true or just rumors.

The founder, at least, seemed to believe in my god’s benevolence completely.

Unlike me.

I carefully returned the records to their places.

“This is the last one.”

At that moment, the Bonetti siblings also finished reading.

“Damn it. There isn’t a single mention of Tempestas anywhere.”

“There’s no need to look so grim, Bati. You still have a chance.”

As I absently listened to their conversation, I raised my hand.

“Question!”

Minuet turned toward me.

“Is your spirit also a sparrow?”

“Absolutely not.”

She rejected the idea without even pausing for breath.

Gavotte looked a little wounded.

“You think I’d be compared to a fledgling barely summoned a few weeks ago?”

“Do spirits change over time?”

“They usually grow larger. If the difference in rank is significant enough, their form will change too.”

“Ah. So... a pigeon, then?”

Minuet, never taking her eyes off the giant, whispered:

“Presto, circle around.”

A bird with gleaming emerald feathers and sharp, predatory eyes soared through the air, circling the giant.

It was sleek, majestic, and semi-transparent—a striking contrast to Gavotte’s small sparrow.

“A bird of prey?” I asked.

“A golden eagle,” Cruello supplied briefly.

Golden eagle, Presto—even its species sounded impressive.

Presto weaved through the air, flapping its wings and unleashing razor-sharp wind blades toward the giant.

But it was useless.

The giant barely flinched.

Worse, it seemed to absorb Presto’s attacks, growing even larger and denser.

Meanwhile, less than half of the chains remained.

“If all the chains snap, does that mean we lose?”

While spiritists were physically stronger than magicians, they weren’t warriors.

A single strike from that thing would be enough to end this fight.

I watched with mild interest while reaching into the basket I had brought along.

Crunch.

Butter cookies.

Delicious.

“Is it good?”

Cruello’s voice held amusement.

This was him asking for one.

I picked up a cookie and placed it directly into his mouth.

He ate it without complaint—but of course, he had to add commentary.

“I wasn’t asking for one. You hardly ate anything at the inn or the estate.”

“The inn’s food wasn’t to my taste, and I wasn’t about to eat anything from the estate without knowing what might be in it.”

“And cookies are different, darling?”

“I neutralized the poison when no one was looking.”

“...Swallow before you speak.”

Minuet, momentarily distracted, glanced at us.

Then, as if remembering the life-threatening trial, she refocused on the giant.

“Minuet must be hungry too,” I mused.

“Seems like it.”

“Oh, five chains left—wait, what?! It just snapped them all at once!”

The freed giant stretched, then charged forward.

Is this failure?

At that moment, Minuet finished her analysis and shouted:

“Presto, go for its lower back!”

Her voice was partially drowned by the storm, but it was clear enough.

Presto dove straight into the giant’s spine.

Clever.

Most would have panicked, assuming the chains were their only safety net.

But Minuet had already figured it out.

The giant’s regeneration always began from its back—meaning its weakness was located there.

It was hard to see with the violent winds, but if you focused, you could spot a faint, glowing green core embedded just above its waist.

“Aim just above the waist—destroy it!”

BOOM.

As the giant lunged for Minuet, the storm around us intensified.

The arena was spacious, but the giant was even bigger.

It closed the distance in mere seconds.

Finally, it swung its massive arm down—

A gargantuan hand, brimming with murderous intent, came crashing toward Minuet’s small frame.

Just before it could strike—

A sharp cracking sound echoed.

The wind composing the giant’s body unraveled.

Its hand, its arm, its shoulders—

Then its legs, its waist, its torso, its head.

One by one, each fragment of its form dissipated into a gentle breeze.

The raging storm settled.

“Phew.”

Minuet brushed back her tousled hair.

Presto, his duty done, circled her in satisfaction.

First gate—cleared.

Final thoughts?

I tossed the last cookie into my mouth.

“...That was underwhelming.”

The section of the cliff where the giant had been bound split apart once more.

A new path forward was revealed.