If you don't want to just drift through life, you have to go through time.

"Phew, is that alright?"

Truman wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He had just buried Haita in the Holy City Public Cemetery—no one would have imagined that a monk from the team that once fought the Demon King and saved the world would be buried in such an inconspicuous place.

Unlike the hero surrounded by flowers, Haita's departure seemed somewhat lonely. There was no farewell or mourning; the only companion was the occasional ringing of church bells in the distance.

But this is what Haita demanded.

As a former bishop, he had the right and the right to hold a grand funeral for himself, but in the end he chose to pass away quietly. It is estimated that in a few years or ten years, someone will suddenly ask, "How is the bishop who once saved the world now?" and get a dry answer of "He has passed away".

Some people are alive, yet they are already dead; some people are dead, yet they are still alive.

Haita still lives in other people's hearts.

that's enough.

"Thank you, Lord Truman," Philon said softly. "You've been kind enough to help build the tombstone and even brought Lord Highta here."

"I was just fulfilling a promise I made to him."

Truman instinctively wanted to touch Philon's head, but found his hand was dirty. He tried to pull it back, but Philon grabbed it first and placed it on his head.

So cute.

Truman stroked her head, gazing at the tombstone he had carved, and said, "And, I've buried the bubble tea that Haita liked with me too. He can drink it whenever he wants."

"Yes."

Philon nodded.

In addition, Truman cleaned up Haita's mountain cabin inside and out, and of course, none of Haita's clothes or belongings were thrown away.

This belongs to Haita, and it is proof of his existence.

Truman preserved the mountain cabin exactly as it was and set up a magical barrier around it—they weren't sure if they would ever come back, but if they did, he still hoped to live in such a mountain cabin.

"Frilian, is there anything else you'd like to say?"

"no."

"I also want to thank Lady Frilian for giving me the opportunity to repay Lord Haita's kindness."

"I was just tricked by that stinky monk."

Frillie shook her head.

Despite saying that, she had already accepted Haita's request and formally accepted Philon as her disciple. Moreover, she was well aware that even if she hadn't accepted her, Truman would have taken her under his wing.

"Speaking of which, Truman, you didn't cry."

Why are you crying?

"It's nothing."

"You're making me even more nervous. By the way, I hope I won't cry terribly at Simmel's funeral."

No, you were smiling at that time.

"That's very much my style."

"It was because he was laughing too happily that he was scolded by many people and eventually kicked out of the church."

"That's too much."

Who's really in the wrong? Isn't laughing at someone's funeral incredibly rude? — That's probably how people in this world see it.

Truman, however, smiled and said, "This is a good thing."

"Why?" Frilian looked at him.

"Because in my hometown, the death of someone over 100 years old is considered a happy occasion. You see, humans can only live to a maximum of 120 years old, so 100 is considered a peaceful death. And Haita didn't suffer in the end; he died with a smile on his face, which is already a good thing, isn't it?"

"……really."

"Right? In my hometown, this would be a huge banquet for all our relatives and friends, with several tables set up and a band playing drums and gongs to celebrate!"

"Oh? This custom is truly unique."

Frillie seemed very interested.

Although Philon didn't speak, his small eyes revealed great doubt, indicating his skepticism about this statement.

However, Truman was not lying.

This is also a custom called a grand funeral.

After thinking for a long time, Frillie nodded seriously and said, "Why don't we do the same for Haita? We'll set up a few tables, hire a band, and have a grand funeral!"

"Please don't do this, Lady Frilian! Lord Haita has already been buried, please stop tormenting him," Philon pleaded hastily.

Frillie could only shake her head regretfully.

I can't figure out if she's grateful to Haita or hates Haita, that she would want to torment a centenarian like this.

"So, Truman, is your insistence on a burial seven days later also part of that custom?"

"It's a custom called the first seven days after death."

"The seventh day after death?"

"Legend has it that a person has three souls and seven spirits. After death, one soul goes away every year, one spirit goes away every seven days, and the soul is exhausted after three years. After seven years, the spirits are exhausted. So we have to go through the seven-year period and the three-year anniversary... In fact, this custom is just to ensure that the person is really dead."

Ancient medicine was very underdeveloped.

Many people fake their death for various reasons, so they are buried 7 days later to ensure they are truly dead.

Even in modern society, this is true.

Several people drank until they lost consciousness and were mistakenly thought to be dead. Unexpectedly, they woke up a few hours later, but one of them was sent to the crematorium by someone who cut in line and never woke up again.

"A soul...Does Truman believe that people have souls?"

"Yes. Science shows that a person's body loses 21 grams after death... Even so, there is a soul in another world, and I have seen it with my own eyes."

"As expected."

As if confirming something, she slowly spoke again: "The mainstream view 4000 years ago was that it was all a myth. I had my doubts too, but now it seems that's not the case. The soul really exists."

"What happened?"

"I broke the resurrection spell, thanks to the magic book you left behind, Truman."

"……Um?"

Truman frowned instinctively.

Resurrection magic exists in *Konosuba*, but due to its high level and difficult requirements, even high-ranking priests rarely possess it. Don't be fooled by Aqua's dozen or so resurrection spells on Kazuma Sato; have you ever seen anyone else use resurrection magic? And Aqua even used a goddess's privilege, making it even more outrageous!

"I plan to verify the existence of the soul. If I make it public, it will definitely cause a sensation."

"Does Frillie believe in souls?"

"I believe you. Because it was Truman who said it."

"...Why am I suddenly a little jealous of myself?"

Truman clicked his tongue in displeasure.

"According to the spellbook, the place where souls slumber is heaven," Frillian suddenly declared, then looked at Truman and said, "You'll come with me, won't you?"

"I have no choice. I need your help." Truman had no choice but to agree.

As a disciple, Philon naturally had to follow Frilian.

"Well then, our destination is the Demon King's Castle."

"The Demon King's Castle... Could this be considered a re-enactment of Journey to the West?"

"The Demon King's Castle is in the north."

"That's one version. It's a mythical story about several disciples with extraordinary abilities escorting their master on his journey to retrieve the scriptures... Philon, you seem quite interested? Okay, I'll tell you this as a bedtime story!"

The three of them did not linger.

After bidding a final farewell to Haita, he embarked on a journey to the Demon King's castle, seeking the eternal resting place of souls—Heaven.