She approached Greg first, looking down at him as he remained dazed from the blow. Her staff rose, poised to deliver the final strike.

Greg lifted his Guardian's Oath shield one last time, fully aware that it wouldn't be sufficient. Yet, he couldn't stop trying. The shield manifested, but the previous attack had already compromised its surface.

Agatha's staff descended. Greg had never experienced anything like that before.

It wasn't merely about physical force. It was the culmination of Agatha's will, years of master craftsmanship, and the Calamity's corrupting power converging in a single strike.

Greg's shield lasted only two seconds before it disintegrated. He had sworn the Guardian's Oath for the sake of his family and his own safety, but it shattered into fragments of light that scattered like dying stars.

"W-What...? Impossible...!"

The spell failed dramatically, causing the arm guard that facilitated it to break. The magic circuits went dark.

He couldn't believe his eyes when he glanced at his arm—his shield was gone. He had lost the primary means of protecting his friends.

Agatha set her staff down and took a deep breath. It was difficult to decipher her thoughts as she looked at Greg. It wasn't a victory, but it felt like something else.

"You're getting weak..."

"...if this keeps up, a blacksmith living in his own world of denialism won't be able to stop Calamity."

"And again... I don't know how many times I've said this, but..." she said in a soft voice. "You are not like the rest of them."

"The way you make things and the ideas that go into them. The decision to refrain from making weapons, despite their necessity and the pressure to do so, is commendable."

"I must say it really reminds me of someone important."

Greg felt confused when he heard her say that, and he noticed a quick change in her expression that revealed genuine sadness. "W-What are you talking---"

She reached down and took Greg's chin in her hand so he would look at her. Her eyes used to be cold and calculating, but now they looked like they might be even sadder than before.

"There was a blacksmith I knew once," Agatha said quietly. "Long ago, before all of this."

"He thought the same things you do. That craft should help you live, not die."

"That the main purpose of creation was to help people live better, not to help them kill more effectively."

She held on a little more tightly. "He trusted people too much, forgetting that not all humans are the same." And he had to pay for it..."

"The world broke him, shattered his beliefs, and in the end, he died for a peace that wasn't real, but... I did think highly of him as a blacksmith. Maybe the only one I ever really respected."

Agatha let Greg go and stepped back. Then she looked at Hammy. The slime had moved to protect Elwen, and even though it was no match for the other creatures, it kept chirping in defiance.

"And that thing with you," Agatha said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the slime, "is interesting."

"A hammer in slime. Not taken in, not eaten, but perfectly kept."

"That isn't normal. That's not how a slime's body works because they could just digest it..."

As she got closer, Hammy chirped louder and more frantically. For the first time, Agatha's face showed real interest as she reached out with one hand toward the slime.

"Where did you get this?" Agatha asked, but it didn't seem like she wanted an answer. "What kind of hammer is that in there?"

"It sounds familiar, like a magical sign... something I feel I should understand."

Hammy's pseudopod suddenly shot out and hit Agatha's hand hard. The old woman was shocked and then laughed.

"Spirit," she said with a smile. "Even in something so small."

"How wonderful..." She looked like she was thinking about something. "But I don't have time for puzzles right now."

"The Calamity is coming to its peak, and the fall of Meridian is almost here, to the point that it's getting inevitable."

She stopped and looked at the door. When the staff touched the ground, a strange golden light filled the room. Things around them began to glow and move.

"This is a parting gift from all of you." Agatha said. "To make sure you can stay here without finding anything you're looking for. Think of it as a lovely thing to do for two craftsmen."

The walls, the broken things, and even the furniture started to ooze a thick, amber-colored liquid. It moved across the floor like honey, but when it touched something, it hardened and formed a crystal structure around everything it touched.

Greg tried to get up, but his legs were stuck in the stuff. It wasn't completely solid, but it was hard to get through, like running through thick mud. It was harder to get away from it every time he moved, and the more he fought, the more it seemed to stick and harden.

As she backed up to the door, Agatha declared, "Temporal amber."

"It's something I devised. It won't last long, maybe one or two hours, but that's all I need. It will all be over by the time you leave and return to Meridian."

"Wait! You fucking coward!" Lylia attempted to move forward, but the amber trapped her at her knees. "Don't just leave us here!"

"I can and I am," Agatha said.

She looked at Greg one last time before turning around. "Take care of that slime, blacksmith."

"There's something about it that matters, though I can't quite place what."

"Perhaps we'll meet again once the Calamity has finished its work, and next time... you'll understand what I'm trying to achieve."

Greg said, "You're wrong..." he said in a hoarse voice. "...about everything."

"About the Royal Knights, peace, and crafts requiring destruction."

"You're just an angry old woman who won't accept that there are better ways."

Agatha smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Maybe."

"Or perhaps you just haven't lived long enough to know the truth. Only time will tell."

The amber started to flow faster as soon as she walked through the door, as if her leaving had taken away some of its power. It slowly but surely wrapped around their bodies, cold and unyielding.

Greg could only watch as Agatha's shadow and footsteps faded away down the hall. His friends tried to fight the amber around him, but it didn't work. Their defenses and weapons were useless against this strange craftsman's magic, and they were stuck.

The light from the lantern hit his broken arm guard, and the cracks in the surface showed that he had failed. He had lost his shield, and what's worse is that Agatha had escaped. And the Calamity was getting closer to Meridian, but no one was there to stop it.

As the amber slowly moved forward, Greg kept thinking the same thing over and over.

We lost...

We let everyone down...

I'm sorry... everyone...

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