Startled, Iyu jerked her head up. A man stood behind her like a massive wall.

It was Tigrevald. King of the beastfolk, and—

"You're not the same species as us, but you're as important to me as family."

The one she'd once regarded like an uncle, like a father, briefly fooled by that affectionate lie.

"Were you really stuck to the ground over just this bag?"

Tigrevald, alternating his gaze between her twig-like limbs and the bag hanging lightly on his fingers through narrowly slitted eyes, clicked his tongue.

"I forgot how remarkably poor untrained humans' physical abilities are."

His expression suggested that with such weakness, could she even properly complete the pilgrimage?

"If I'd known it would be this bad, I should've assigned a useful beastfolk instead of that child."

Fortunately, Iyu—poor only in stamina—easily recognized who Tigrevald was referring to.

'Acting like that when sending a victim of darkness suffering from mutism was all calculated behavior.'

The story wasn't even funny. Iyu, blocking the direction where Tamia stood, lifted her chin and spoke stiffly.

"I'll handle my own."

Whether she meant the bag or Tamia was ambiguous. After sizing her up for a while with slit pupils, he suddenly spoke.

"I heard you're quite fond of that beastfolk child. Seems it was true."

"...Is that a problem?"

"No, just that some humans aren't particularly fond of beastfolk."

Tigrevald shrugged, passed Iyu lightly, and loaded the bag onto the carriage as if lifting a feather.

Iyu glared at the beast's back as he showed casual kindness without pretending to listen to her demands, then shuffled after him.

Where he'd placed her personal bag wasn't the already more-than-half-full cargo wagon, but the familiar four-wheeled carriage that had shared long journeys in the past.

As she surveyed the spacious interior, luxurious leather seats, and ornately patterned ceiling with some distaste, Tigrevald poured out caustic criticism.

"Looks flimsy for rolling into that stone tomb region. Then again, everything those dwarf bastards do is like this."

The carriage Iyu would use was crafted by Kelgrida, the finest among the dwarf race called the Hand of God—actually a masterpiece that had remained intact despite traveling through sand, ice, and lands of fire.

Merely displeased with the maker, he found fault for a while, then added rather meaningful advice.

"You, in Nidavellir, you'd better keep that child or the holy knight close. Those dwarf bastards act nice, but every single one is gloomy as hell underneath."

The starting point decided for the pilgrimage was, like the past, the dwarven world 'Nidavellir.' Nevertheless, the reason this man with glass-thin patience and consideration didn't become more frenzied was precisely because Iyu herself had insisted on going to their world, Yotunheim, as the next destination.

After that, Tigrevald, apparently finding the outsider quite agreeable, treated her rather favorably. To the extent of personally helping carry bags and adding advice like this.

Of course, it was probably less pure goodwill than hatred toward Kelgrida who'd won the order, and the Savior's necessity.

'If he knew why I chose Yotunheim as the next destination, he couldn't maintain even this hypocrisy.'

Tigrevald, unable to dare guess that his opponent also hid black intentions, flashed sharp fangs and left his farewell.

"Then I'll go ahead and wait. Do take care."

Several burly beastfolk adjutants followed beside him as he left. Iyu vacantly watched Tigrevald's back, distinctively broad even among them. Until he became a dot and disappeared from view.

Tamia crept up beside her and held out a note.

[Did something happen?]

Her expression must have been quite grim. Iyu stroked the child's hair while tucking away emotion that had leaked out like a cough.

"Nothing."

Right. Nothing had happened yet.

Unable to decide whether to feel relieved or empty at that fact, she turned her gaze toward the cargo wagons.

Preparations apparently complete, the cargo wagons were fully loaded, and the priests and servants who'd been helping had all withdrawn to a distance.

Her puzzlement at the strange distance was brief. Iyu easily noticed the reason.

Their leader, Freya, had appeared. After saying a few words to the Hundredth White Branch, Freya soon approached Iyu with elegant steps.

She wore attire less splendid than ceremonial dress but more formal than everyday clothes. Freya, approaching with white garments fluttering, asked in a gentle voice.

"The first day of pilgrimage has finally dawned. Aren't you nervous?"

Her chest did seem to tremble slightly. But that was closer to anticipation than nervousness.

When Iyu shook her head, Freya stepped closer and lightly embraced her.

"God will always be with you. I'll pray for you every day. Return safely."

"..."

"May your journey not be arduous."

Iyu, held in the warm embrace smelling of sunlight, nodded silently.

With that unwelcome farewell complete, Iyu slowly boarded the carriage. Beyond the square window, the woman gently waving her hand and dozens of eyes gleaming with anticipation were captured like a strange painting.

Averting her eyes from that grotesque work, she knocked twice on the carriage wall. A signal of readiness.

"We're departing!"

With the coachman's voice, the carriage began moving with a rattle.

The long, long pilgrimage had begun.

2. Rockfall

The destination Nidavellir, unlike Asgard located near the World Tree's branches, was positioned in a crevice near the roots.

Therefore, they had to cross Bifrost, the only path connected to the branches—this bridge was wondrously made of rainbow.

'How shocked I was the first time.'

Shocked by its beauty, shocked again by its dizzying structure with the bottom clearly visible.

In the past, on her first pilgrimage, she'd pressed her forehead against the window, checking safety repeatedly while trembling in fear that the carriage might fall...

[I couldn't see it when I was being transported because everything was so chaotic! It's so amazing!]

This life's fuss would apparently be Tamia's to shoulder. The child's characteristically plump cheeks flushed red with excitement.

Asgard was celestial land. In other words, they said other races couldn't cross the bridge without permission unless they were tribal representatives.

Perhaps that's why it seemed quite a novel sight even to eyes born and raised in this world. The child stuck to the window, gazing endlessly at the bridge.

Iyu watched small feet tapping beneath the seat instead of the uninteresting scenery outside. With Tamia so delighted, perhaps even this nightmarish carriage and road were somewhat bearable.

However, the dreamlike path soon ended. Passing through a hazy curtain resembling fog or heat haze, a vast desert greeted them.

Nidavellir's entrance—the White Desert.

Due to the reclusive elf race's characteristics, reaching their settlement required crossing this expansive desert region.

White sand like salt stretched endlessly.

This tranquil desert, where a prince traveling from another star might appear, was one of the places she'd liked. But behind the overwhelming scenery were several problems—blinding reflected light, and dryness.

The White Desert wasn't hot like Earth's, but was extremely dry, making her throat and nose feel split with each exhale.

Finally unable to bear it, Iyu reached for the canteen she'd prepared, when—

"Iyu!"

At someone's call, she lowered the tightly closed carriage window halfway. Kalix, dark-colored shemagh pulled up to cover his face to his nose, brought his horse close and checked on Iyu.

"Are you alright?"

As a fellow human, he'd apparently noticed first the discomfort she'd experience.

"Bearable so far."

Thanks to the coachman tactfully slowing even more, there was no great difficulty conversing.

Kalix rummaged through his pack with one hand while holding the reins of the warhorse large as a carriage with the other, apparently unafraid of falling. Then he pushed something he'd found accurately into the carriage.

A women's scarf of soft material.

"Wet that and wrap it around your mouth and nose."

If he hadn't spoken to her, she would've managed by wetting her own sleeve. Just as he'd done for her directly in the previous life.

Instead of snapping at him like that, Iyu obediently followed his instructions. Beneath the carriage seat, at her insistence instead of a clothes bag, were several portions of water and food.

She poured some drinking water to wet the scarf. Giving one damp end to Tamia and wrapping the opposite end around her own nose, breathing became considerably easier.

"We'll be crossing the desert in earnest now. If it's difficult, don't endure—speak up."

"I will."

Breathing much easier, Iyu vaguely let Kalix's concern wash over her while observing the group. Between the sandstorm rising from horse hooves and carriage wheels, the Hundredth White Branch maintained the vanguard without the slightest dishevelment, and Kelgrida followed slowly behind the carriage.

Iyu was staring at Kelgrida, face wrapped in a red kerchief, and had just begun to speak to Kalix, when—

The carriage lurched greatly as if falling into a pit, then someone's scream was heard.

"S-sand snake!"