In the capital city of Flinel, a certain [Travelling Merchant] was trying very hard not to rub his hands together with glee. After having an entire caravan—pretty much everything he owned—destroyed by a rather unpleasant lion-headed demon, he'd come very close to bankruptcy. Thankfully, the kingdom had paid out some amount of compensation, but it wasn't enough to cover the value of the destroyed goods. The families of the murdered guards had received more, but he wasn't so unscrupulous as to complain about that. He'd escaped the situation with his life, if not his dignity, which was better than those poor souls had got.

However, it meant that his entire net worth had been in coinage instead of goods. His wealth was completely liquid, which left him in a rather unique situation when the kingdom's entire economy was picked up and shaken about like some sort of golden snow globe.

Wigs and hair dye were the new saffron and caviar. Vital components of some faddish new spell, their market value had shot through the roof. Everyone wanted them right now. Manufacturers were desperately ramping up production, but they could only move so quickly, which meant that for anyone able to get their hands on the desired goods, there was temporarily a fortune to be made.

This [Travelling Merchant] didn't even try; it was too risky, and after the caravan attack, he'd resolved to live a more laid back life. There was no way the difference between supply and demand would last for long, and he didn't want to be left holding a warehouse worth of wigs once prices dropped. But he was more than happy to support the speculators who did.

Speculators who needed coin in a hurry, and were prepared to liquidise assets at a loss to get it.

The [Travelling Merchant] added another ingot of pure gold to his collection, bought for a good fifth less than what its price would have been a week earlier, safe in the knowledge that in a few months' time, its worth would have returned to normality.

"It's nice that everyone looks so happy," said Rose, spotting the [Travelling Merchant] as she strolled down the street with the rest of her party.

"The demon lord is beaten. Our [King] earned a legendary achievement for defending the kingdom. A princess got a mythical achievement. It's not a surprise the mood is festive," supplied Hayedalf.

"I dunno about festive," said Kellela. "That merchant looked more like a guinea pig that has just heard the crinkle of a crisp lettuce leaf."

"What's a guinea pig?" asked Dreobeth, who was riding on Rrillandral's shoulder. The pair of them together were drawing attention, with Rrillandral's demonised arm and Dreobeth's mismatched wings obvious from a distance. For anyone seeing them head-on, Dreobeth's horns and Rrillandral's corrupted eye were even worse. Thankfully, no-one was running around and screaming. There was a general feeling that if there really were demons walking down the street, someone would already be screaming, and thus they couldn't possibly be demons.

The fact that Rrillandral had been significantly de-aged by her mythic achievement lowered the perceived threat level, too. She'd been left with the appearance of a pre-teen, even Rose more than a head taller than her. Her shortened legs left her needing to resort to occasional bursts of jogging to keep up with the group.

"A fluffy meat potato," answered Rose. "People keep them as pets. They tend to get very excited about feeding time."

"Well, I guess this is where we split up," said Kellela as they approached a sizeable temple.

"Are you sure you don't want to come and report with me?" asked Grace, looking a tad nervous.

"Mystery's health comes first. We'll visit the palace as soon as we're done."

"Don't worry," said Rose. "I'm coming with you, and if I spot anyone bringing a harisen into the same room as you, I'll lop their arms off."

"I'm not sure what worries me more; that I believe you're being serious, or that I actually find that comforting."

Grace sighed as Kellela and Hayedalf split off from the rest of the party, vanishing into the temple where a group of the most skilled priests the continent had to offer had gathered ready to examine Mystery, who hadn't resurfaced since the final battle. Thankfully, they'd been able to prepare in advance, Rrillandral using her earring to call ahead via her father to make the arrangements.

"Then we'll be heading off to the Vale's embassy," said Rrillandral. "Take care, and we shall meet again at the victory celebrations."

"Another damn ball..." sighed Rose. "At least my parents can come to this one, so I can share the pain a bit, and there shouldn't be so many people staring at me."

"Oh? Sorry, but announcing our engagement will attract plenty of attention."

Rose froze. "Wait. I agreed to date you, not get engaged!"

Grace opened her mouth to respond, but Rose pre-empted her.

"No, this is bloody politics again, isn't it? Let me guess, you royals don't even have the concept of dating, because dating someone you aren't engaged to is probably a serious violation of your stupid etiquette. And of course you have to publicly announce it. Why did you have to end up a [Magical Princess]? Why not [Magical Peasant]?"

"I'm more curious about how Rrillandral got through the entire mission without changing her occupation, when the rest of us all did whether we wanted to or not."

"Maybe she did and just hasn't admitted it? Besides, you did want to. You just thought you shouldn't want to want to."

Grace fell silent as she tried to parse that sentence. "Maybe?" she agreed uncertainly.

"Oh, come on. It was obvious to all of us that you only got yourself drunk so that you'd stop caring about the consequences."

"In my defence, I was trying to overcome fifteen years of programming about what constitutes proper behaviour," sighed Grace.

"And you're doing a marvellous job of it, so come on. Let's go yell at your dad."

"... Please don't."

The pair continued on their journey to the castle, where with great cheers and fanfare, they were led into the throne room, the [King] in full regalia standing in front of his throne, applauding, as was the [Queen] and a number of ministers and knights.

"Uhh... You do realise it's just us two, right? Shouldn't you save this for Mystery?" asked Rose, who had long since lost her fear of authority.

"Not at all," denied [King] Harold. "Mystery not being here in no way lessens the contribution made by the pair of you. Every member of your party contributed to the defeat of the demon lord, with barely any loss of life or even destruction of property in any kingdom of the world. It's an achievement most worthy of praise, and the others will get the same treatment when they arrive."

"And speaking of achievements," interrupted one of the many ministers, "what, exactly, do [True Hero] and [The Final Cycle] entail?"

Harold glared at the minister, but didn't countermand his question, leaving Grace to answer.

"I can't speak for [True Hero], given Mystery's current condition, but the description of [The Final Cycle] implies that the demon lord has been defeated in such a way that it will no longer rise again."

In an amazing but completely accidental feat of coordination, the [King], [Queen] and every present spectator blinked in perfect synchronisation.

"Pardon?" asked the minister.

"I believe the name is self explanatory. This was the final cycle."

"Are you serious?! How is that possible?"

"Rrillandral said it was to do with Mystery's ability to create spells completely unfettered by common sense, but I suggest you ask her for more detail."

"You seem... remarkably blasé about your achievement," observed the [King]. "Why are you not more excited?"

"Because I have something else on my mind," sighed Grace. "Father, it was not too long ago that you gave me a piece of excellent advice; to have a proper conversation with someone with whom I was experiencing serious misunderstandings. Please may I suggest that you take it yourself?"

The [King] looked at Rose in confusion. "Why do I need to talk to her?"

"Not me," pointed out Rose. "She's using some of that circumspect phrasing you nobles love to use to ask if she can have a private conversation."

"... It kinda defeats the point if you spell it out like that," muttered Grace. "But yes. Father, Mother; we need to talk."

"You can speak freely here. Indeed, Rose already is."

"It is a personal matter."

The [King] looked around uncertainly. "I can maybe spare a few minutes once we're done here?" he suggested. "Please understand that the consequences of the demon lord's defeat are going to keep me busy for weeks."

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" complained Rose. "A few minutes? For your own daughter? Fine. Me and Grace are... mmpf!"

Paling to the point her skin became very nearly the colour of her hair, Grace kept a hand clamped very tightly over Rose's mouth.

Harold's look of uncertainty grew. Meanwhile, the [Royal Knight] behind him facepalmed with the clang of steel meeting steel. "That would have saved us so much bother back at the unveiling..." he muttered to himself.

"What would?" asked the [King], still clueless.

"Fine. I give up!" shouted Grace. "For friendship and justice, demon slaying magical girl Jasper White, transform!"

"Huh?" asked the [King], which was followed by an, "Eep!" as Grace leapt to the stage, grabbed him, then jumped clean out of a window.

The [Queen] gave Rose a knowing smile, then left more traditionally through a door.

"Is anything normal ever going to happen around here?" whined the minister of economics. "Does the [Hero] have some sort of infectious disease that she spreads to everyone she interacts with?!"

"That's... a pretty good theory, actually," agreed Rose.

"Don't agree with me!"

---

"So, how does it look?" asked Kellela nervously as the final priest finished his examination.

The assembled clergy shared a few glances with each other, some giving a small nod or shake of the head. There was obviously communication of some sort going on there, but not the sort [Translate] could aid with.

"She is in no danger, and will recover in time," declared the priestess that had apparently been chosen as spokesperson.

Kellela and Hayedalf both visibly sagged with relief.

"However..." continued the priestess, causing them both to tense back up. "The damage to her soul was extensive. Recovery is likely to take weeks, if not months. And... there are likely to be lasting symptoms."

"What sort of symptoms?" asked Kellela, a note of fear in her voice.

"Acutely, she will suffer from a slower levelling speed and reduced mana capacity, but that will improve with time. We expect she'll be back to normal within a year or two. More seriously... it's almost certain that she will suffer memory loss."

Kellela froze.

"How much memory loss?" asked Hayedalf, taking over.

"We can't say. Maybe only the past few days. Maybe everything."

"And will her memories ever return?"

"No. Without a developed brain, her memories were completely contained within her soul. Any of them consumed by the demon lord will be gone permanently. I'm sorry."

"No..." muttered Kellela.

"It may only be a few days," reassured Hayedalf. "And, to be the cold voice of pragmatism, an unborn child isn't supposed to have memories. Despite everything, she could have a normal childhood."

At that, Kellela actually snorted as she tried to stifle a laugh. "Normal? If [True Hero] gives the same life extension as [The Final Cycle], I'm going to be pregnant for seventy-five years. Years! If not for getting [The Final Cycle] myself, I would die pregnant! And even when she's born, she'll be stuck as a kid for centuries! How long until she's even able to walk?"

The collective group of priests winced.

"If it helps, I read up on historical mythical achievements once, just out of curiosity," said one. "Normally, they only double lifespan, so [The Final Cycle] is way higher than most. [True Hero] might be something less."

"Great, so I'll be pregnant for fifteen years, rather than seventy-five," she sighed. "Anyone want to swap?"

The single priestess in the group remained silent, but pulled an expression that screamed 'no thanks' as loudly as any words could have done.

"Didn't think so."

"I don't think the gods planned for people to earn legendary or mythical achievements before adulthood," said one. "Perhaps we should pray for the issue to be fixed, as the world notification apparently was."

To Kellela, the thought of simply asking the gods to make changes to the rules of the universe was somewhat foreign, but if there was any chance of not spending over a decade pregnant, she was more than willing to take it. "Yes please," she nodded. "But tell them I'll happily spend a century pregnant rather than have Mystery forget everything that made her special."