Within the community known as Ghost Travel, the hierarchy of positions was, to put it mildly, bizarre.
Maids were supposed to be the lowest-ranking attendants—those who served others.
Yet here, they were the highest authority.
At the very least, whenever Latia and Itsuki addressed any of the three members of the maid corps, they had to add a respectful "—sama" to the end of their names. And although all three maids possessed divinity—actual godheads—if it came down to a real fight, they would lose to just about anyone present.
"Ren-sama, regarding the Harvest Festival in the South District—are we going?" Leticia asked, her posture as flawless and composed as ever. "Compared to the Fire Dragon Birth Festival in the North District, this Harvest Festival is on an entirely different scale. It's one of the South's rare large-scale annual events. There will be no shortage of Gift Games.
"Our community has only just secured its footing in the North. While our combat strength is more than sufficient, we're still far from being self-sustaining in other areas."
She wasn't exaggerating.
The South District's Harvest Festival dwarfed the North's Fire Dragon Birth Festival several times over. It wasn't a localized celebration—it was a sweeping regional event. Nearly every community in the South would participate.
And the hosting alliance, Dragon-Horned Gryphon, was leagues beyond Salamandra in both influence and prestige.
Ren Kuroda lifted his teacup and took a slow sip of black tea before replying.
"You mentioned that No Name and Will o' Wisp received invitations as well. Have they decided whether they're attending?"
He directed the question at Leticia. He knew she had maintained steady contact with No Name.
Will o' Wisp didn't concern him much.
But No Name? They were the story's certified problem children. If they were heading south, then by protagonist logic alone, the South District was about to become the center of a storm.
Even without Leticia's answer, Ren already had a guess. If there was a festival—something loud, chaotic, and packed with competition—there was no way those kids would stay quietly in the East District.
"Black Rabbit and the others departed yesterday," Leticia replied calmly. "They took Izayoi, Jin, and Lily with them—everyone. Dragon-Horned Gryphon generously covered the gate usage fee for them this time. Black Rabbit accepted immediately."
The next day, fully prepared, Ren and the others gathered for a vote. After a fairly democratic discussion, Ghost Travel officially decided to attend the Harvest Festival in the South District.
However, since they were now an established community, they couldn't simply abandon their headquarters. Someone had to stay behind and guard the base.
So they held a lottery.
Two would remain. The rest would go.
Itsuki stared at the red slip in his hand, his heart pounding with excitement.
He'd heard Izayoi was going to the South. That meant there might finally be a chance to face him in a Gift Game.
But before he could fully savor the moment, a gust of black wind swept across his vision.
In the blink of an eye—
The red slip in his hand turned white.
Itsuki froze.
He knew exactly whose power that was.
And just as he prepared to protest, a certain spotted-haired loli fixed him with a dangerously cheerful stare.
His voice died instantly.
He stood there, clutching the white slip, looking like a man whose soul had just left his body.
There was nothing he could do.
Even if Pest was no longer technically his direct leader, she had once been. He still respected her deeply. If his former boss wanted to attend the festival, then as a loyal subordinate, he could only accept being the one left behind to do the grunt work.
Watching this unfold, Latia—keenly aware that she and Itsuki occupied the "weak minority" of the community—immediately sprinted over to Ren the moment she drew a red slip, proudly holding it up for him to see.
After all, if she got a red slip, that meant one of the heavy hitters had drawn white.
And if there was going to be any suspicious "exchange" afterward, she wanted her claim established early.
Even Leticia-sama couldn't blatantly break the rules.
One by one, the others revealed their results.
Ren—red.
Leticia—red.
Latia—red.
Which meant the final white slip belonged to—
Crack.
The white paper suddenly turned to stone.
A second later, it shattered into dust.
Alger—purple-haired, wide-eyed, and radiating innocence—looked up at Ren with an aggrieved expression.
"I just looked at it and it petrified," she said sweetly. "Since it broke, it doesn't count. We should redo the lottery."
Itsuki's jaw dropped.
He had not anticipated this level of shameless strategy.
"Um… Lady Alger," he ventured carefully, "even if you destroy the slip, it doesn't change anything. If everyone else has red, then yours can only be whi—"
He never finished.
The purple-haired girl appeared in front of him in an instant.
A heartbeat later, Itsuki shot backward like a comet breaking the laws of physics—at a speed that could have surpassed the Third Cosmic Velocity.
"I don't care! I don't care!" Alger shouted, stomping her foot. "You're all going out to have fun! I refuse to stay behind alone! If you don't take me with you, I'll cause trouble in the North District and petrify every other community!"
That was not an idle threat.
If anyone else had said it, it might have been a joke.
But Alger?
She absolutely would.
She had once been one of Little Garden's most infamous problem children. Although her worldview had improved considerably thanks to Ren and Leticia, at her core she was still impulsive, stubborn, and unapologetically unreasonable.
Leaving her unsupervised in the North—without Ren or Leticia to keep her in check—would be a disaster of catastrophic proportions.
After what could generously be described as "friendly negotiations," the group finally reached a new decision.
Instead of two people staying behind—
Only one would remain.
As for who that unfortunate soul would be?
There was no suspense.
As the lowest-ranking member of the "weak minority," Itsuki once again silently shouldered the burden.
By strength standards, he and Latia were the weakest in the community.
By gender standards, as one of only two male members—alongside Ren—he was technically in another minority group.
Combining both factors, Itsuki was weak squared.
He had no voting power whatsoever.
In fact, even if they hadn't bothered with the lottery, the final result probably would've been the same.
With everything settled, Ren and the others prepared to depart.
The North District was the farthest possible point from the South. Traveling the old-fashioned way, as they once had from the East to the North, was completely impractical.
This time, they would use an inter-district Gate.
Standing before the massive portal structure, Ren noticed numerous well-known North District communities gathered nearby.
Clearly, they too had received invitations to the Harvest Festival.
Among them, he even spotted a familiar banner—
Will o' Wisp.
Looks like this festival was going to be lively.
Ren adjusted his coat, the faint hum of the System echoing in the back of his mind.
For some reason—
He had a feeling this trip south wouldn't be peaceful.