Dumbledore looked a little embarrassed.

That explained why, when he arrived earlier, his Apparition landed over a hundred meters away from Arthur's house.

He had thought his destination had simply been miscalculated.

Without saying another word, Dumbledore quietly walked out of Snape's house.

Arthur, Snape, and the others watched him leave in silence.

Once he was gone, Arthur joked:

"Looks like letting him become Minister for Magic does have its benefits."

"Normally we'd never get to see such an interesting side of Dumbledore."

His comment made everyone laugh.

Indeed, even Dumbledore himself probably hadn't realized how expressive he had been tonight.

Seeing how late it had become, the group chatted a little longer before Arthur took his leave.

He had just thought of something very entertaining.

And if he prepared it tonight, it would definitely be useful when facing Voldemort tomorrow.

Back in the Zen Garden, Arthur retrieved four black crystals from his system storage.

They emitted an evil aura.

If one looked closely, faint shapes of screaming souls could be seen writhing inside.

Flames rose in Arthur's hand and enveloped the crystals.

Under the intense heat, the crystals slowly melted—

Until they merged into a single black cube-shaped crystal.

Holding the cube, Arthur traveled to the Roundtable Hold in the Lands Between.

He had never discovered its exact location, but he suspected it was a subspace attached to the Erdtree.

Otherwise, it wouldn't resemble the Erdtree so closely—

Both places now engulfed in raging flames.

Because of the spreading fire, most Tarnished who had once rested here had already left.

Only those with nowhere else to go remained.

One of them was the person Arthur had come to see—

Roderika.

When Arthur first met her, she had been hiding in a ruined shack on Stormhill near Stormveil Castle.

She wore a dark crimson hooded cloak, curled up in the corner, trembling with fear.

Roderika was technically a member of a royal family.

Or more accurately—

An exiled one.

Arthur had later found another crimson hood identical to hers in Stormveil Castle.

The system description read:

A vivid dark-red hooded cloak. Armor worn by exiled royal family members wandering afar. Increases vitality.

A gift for those setting out on a journey with no destiny to fulfill—once they depart, they will never return home.

It symbolizes separation from the royal family.

Clearly, Roderika had been abandoned.

At that time, she didn't even know her purpose in life.

Later, with Arthur's guidance and help, she eventually became the Spirit Tuner of the Roundtable Hold—

The one responsible for strengthening Spirit Ashes using Grave Gloveworts.

The moment Arthur appeared, Roderika spoke first.

"…Please look. The flames are spreading. The Roundtable Hold will soon burn completely."

"Of course, I'm not blaming you. I will continue my spirit-tuning work."

"But… could you do me a favor?"

"Could you persuade Master Hewg?"

"He is too deeply tied to the Roundtable Hold. If he stays here, he will perish together with it."

"The shackles that once bound him have already been destroyed. He is free now."

"I just hope he will leave."

Hewg was the blacksmith of the Roundtable Hold.

All of Arthur's weapons had been upgraded by him.

He was also the one who had taught Roderika how to become a Spirit Tuner.

That was why she cared so deeply about him.

Arthur nodded.

"I understand."

"Help me upgrade this Spirit Ash to its maximum level, and I'll go persuade him."

As he spoke, Arthur handed her the black crystal cube.

At the same time, he took out a large handful of Grave Gloveworts from his storage.

Yes—

The black cube was a special Spirit Ash.

It had been created using Voldemort's soul fragments.

Previously, Arthur had stripped Voldemort's soul fragments from the Horcruxes— 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

But he had not destroyed them.

Because he had always suspected they might be useful someday.

Now he had finally thought of a perfect use.

Turn them into Spirit Ashes.

Tomorrow, during the battle with Voldemort, he could summon them with the Spirit Calling Bell.

Let Voldemort experience something truly hilarious—

Fighting copies of his own soul.

Arthur could already imagine the look on Voldemort's face.

Staring at the pitch-black Spirit Ash radiating malevolent energy, Roderika hesitated.

"…Are you sure you want me to strengthen this?"

"It doesn't look like something that would obey its summoner."

Her words made Arthur pause.

She had a point.

If he summoned this thing tomorrow—

It might very well refuse to listen.

Looks like he would need to modify it a little more later.

"Don't worry," Arthur said.

"I have ways to make it behave."

"Just strengthen it first. I'll go talk to Hewg."

He turned toward the side chamber—

But Roderika hurriedly stopped him.

"Wait!"

"This Spirit Ash is special. It requires Ghost Gloveworts."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

Apparently, Spirit Ash made from Voldemort's soul counted as a special-grade Ash.

It seemed the Dark Lord's remains still carried some prestige.

Arthur took out a handful of Ghost Gloveworts and walked into the side corridor.

Hewg wasn't actually in the side chamber.

That room belonged to Fia, the Deathbed Companion.

As a former prisoner, Hewg could only remain in the corridor between the main hall and side chamber.

When Arthur arrived, Hewg was hammering a weapon on an anvil.

Arthur walked up to him.

"Hewg, why are you still here?"

Hewg didn't answer.

Instead, he simply said:

"Come. Let me forge your weapon."

Arthur frowned.

"Hewg?"

No response.

The blacksmith repeated the same line again.

Arthur waved his hand in front of him.

"Hewg… do you still remember me?"

The answer was the same.

Again.

And again.

Like a machine repeating a fixed command.

At that moment, Arthur understood.

Something was wrong with Hewg.

Combined with what Roderika had said earlier—

It was clear that Hewg's connection to the Roundtable Hold ran extremely deep.

Perhaps…

On some level, Hewg had already become bound to the Hold itself.

Otherwise, there was no other explanation for his strange behavior.

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