Gron looks at the horizon from the veranda. Its fur is moved by the wind. The light from the vista creates bright reflections in it.

It looked at what the chessboard had become and then started poking around.

The corals are immediately interested. Now, it is contemplating the tornado.

“Everything changed.”

I am sitting on a cushion behind the cat.

“These are the Devil's errors. The more time passes the more they expand.”

Gron turns its head to the side. “I saw that they started to grow from a certain moment on, but I didn't imagine this. I thought they were typical formations of the area I was entering.”

“I can't blame you. The dungeon is so vast, that I don't know all of it myself. I have learned from experience that corridors and halls are not all there is.”

Gron lies down on the boards and looks back at the horizon. “In recent years I have come a long way. Being deceased isn't that bad. I don't get tired, nor do I need to feed myself… though.”

“But?”

“But I think I understand you now. I understood what it means to be bored, to be alone…”

I look down and trace circles on my skirt with my index finger. “Could you tell me about our first meeting?”

Gron rolls lazily, tipping me over. It licks its chops and yawns, showing me the rows of sharp teeth.

“Yes, maybe it will help you remember.”

And so Gron talks to me about our first meeting. About life as an adventurer, about our argument.

“Sorry, I was terrible on that occasion.”

“Forget about it. Go ahead.” With a wave of my hand, I touch it.

There is no point in apologizing. Since I do not remember the event, I do not hold any grudges.

But Gron is nice and honest. I understand why we had a good relationship.

The discussion continues on the moment of its escape, on the fact that even now it is grateful for not having judged it, and on the rain of fish and the clash against that [Half-demon].

Now, things get complicated. I get serious, and my wrist shakes.

“Please repeat.”

“When you teleported to the core, after that siren went all over the desert. There were fish, an ocean of tasty fish as far as the eye could see. That enormous creature, the Leviathan, and you who wanted to clean everything with the living sword.”

I remember.

I remember all these things. The siren, the emergency panel asking me to confirm [obliteration], the [core], and the final battle with the [Champion] of… I do not remember that.

Whose [Champion] Kirlh'iau was?

Most importantly, why do not I remember Gron?

From how it describes the situations and the emotions, it is indisputable that it was present. There is no way Gron is making up so many stories and so coherently.

It even knows that once upon a time, there was a chessboard here. And there was no tornado.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Ci-cin.

My tails intertwine and release. “Gron, why didn't you stay by my side?”

“I… wanted to explore this world, relive my days as an adventurer.”

I stop bothering my skirt and place my hand on the charred boards. With my other hand, I move a lock of hair behind my shoulder.

Gron. I look at it and have no reason to doubt its words. Yet, right now, I have a feeling.

«Fsss.»

“Your tail is cute as always.”

“Gron, why didn't I judge you?”

“I asked you.”

We remain silent for a few moments. Gron looks at the board, twists its neck towards the desert, and stands up.

As I watch it stretch, I do not say anything. I run the thumb of my right hand over the sharp nails and do not think of anything in particular.

Gron comes closer and crouches on my legs. It looks at me and starts purring.

Instinctively, I start to caress it.

It has a soft fur and keeps me warm. My fingers run through that dark, orange mass, and I try to recall that sensation.

“Gron… why didn't I judge you?”

After a few caresses, the cat stops purring. It rests its muzzle on my knee and closes its eyes.

As a deceased cat, it cannot be tired.

“This was the reason for our argument.”

“I understand.”

“I'm looking for Dal-Dazzer, my creator, remember? I left with your approval.”

“Uh, strange request… there are no people here. Only deceased. Did He create you?”

Gron raises its head and turns around.

I am about to pet it. But it stops my hand by placing its paw and gives my finger a lick. It has a rough tongue.

I do not understand its state of mind. Its face is radically different from mine. If it were an elf, a human, an orc, or similar... but that is difficult.

“Dal-Dazzer is probably dead. He lies beyond the Golden Doors.”

Silence.

Gron's fur flutters windy. I look at it indecisively, unable to respond.

“The… Golden Doors?”

The Golden Doors. How?

“The doors that separate the Underwasteland from the room where the most dangerous dead rest, those beyond ninety.”

But it does not make sense. It cannot be.

Ah! I have a headache.

I feel something emerge like a spike in my skull.

“MEOW!”

Ci-cin, Ci-cin!

I jump up. Gron jumps to avoid falling to the ground.

“Gron! Gron, the Golden Doors, the Golden Doors!”

The cat shakes itself and starts fixing its tangled fur. “Glad you remembered, now we can come…”

“Gron, have you discovered that they exist!?”

The cat's wide-eyed stare silences me.

“Um… Did I say something wrong?”

♦

Touching the smooth surface in the darkness, I feel the cold metal bas-reliefs. I see no locks.

At the top of the steps, that lead to the pier overlooking the Ocean. I am speechless.

The sound of the Whirlpool is far away in the background.

“N, you really didn't remember this place? But don't you come down here often?”

I nod. We're in the dark. I cannot see it, but I trust Gron can see me.

“I do not know what to say. I had completely removed their existence. Even now, it seems incredible that they are here. In front of me. So, beyond these doors, is there an empty throne?”

“And perhaps my creator.”

“Wow… I don't know what to say. I feel so stupid.”

I feel something hairy press against my ankle. Must be a Gron paw.

“Don't be mortified. I don't think you're stupid.”

“Thank you, but this amnesia…”

“I believe it is enemy work.”

Oh, that makes sense. It is a more than plausible hypothesis. Given my past, I know I have powerful enemies.

However…

“…why make me forget about this door? And what's the point of you looking for another income?”

“I'm just a cat, prr.” There is a languor in Gron's tone. “But I think the answer is implicit in your questions. Or rather, with my reasoning skills, I can guarantee you that the two questions are consequences of the same answer.”

I rest my hand on what I believe to be a structure. It has an intricate pattern of relief, and with touch alone, I can only establish its inhuman nature.

The same answer—if I think about it what do I get?

Gron wants to reach this place.

I have a hidden memory of this place, left in me like a distant legend.

Gron wanted to pass through these doors to reach its creator…

…an enemy attack…

…hm.

But yes, of course!

“They also erased you from my memory because you want to pass through these doors. Your existence is a reminder to me of this room.”

That is what happened.

Whoever came up with this plan was not very farsighted.

Maybe it did not know that Gron has a [skill] given by the [job: Priest] that allows it to pray to me and tell me its location?

Possibly given that according to it, it was originally a cat [Chef].

However, the more I think about it, the more details emerge.

Even [Leviathan] and [Devil] should rest beyond these doors.

“Gron, in any case, you can't pass through here. Dungeon path and Shadow wall don't work.”

“Don't worry. The important thing is that now you remember. The path I'm taking is also valuable. Because I don't take shortcuts.”

I turn towards the cat's voice, but I see nothing but darkness. Mental attack or not, I'm sorry I do not remember this creature. It seems to trust me.

“Okay, let's go back up then. Touch me, please.”

As soon as I feel the hair on my ankle, I use [Dungeon path].