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Chapter 70:(Case Two—End) Who is the Strange Foreign Man? (1)
しおりを挟む
The time in Evendelle is now 3 AM.
In the Grove…
Aurelia… Cinderella’s ghostly mother, hovered and wandered beneath the Hazel Tree, her face clouded with worry. She feared that if her daughter was not rescued from captivity very soon… Cinderella might die.
Aurelia had always wanted to live and stay by her daughter’s side for a long time, but death had taken her too early—nineteen years ago, when Kaj, her husband, murdered her. And now, all she could do was linger, wishing that one day… after Fairy Greatmother examined her grave, she could tell her why she suddenly felt warmth in her chest, even though she was dead.
Aurelia drifted closer to her grave and thought. “Am I really dead? Can I… still be alive again, and live alongside my daughter?”
But worry crept in deeper. Because Cinderella was still gone. And if her daughter died while in captivity, then there would be no point to resurrection, even if Fairy Greatmother could make it possible.
If that happened, Aurelia thought, then she would rather ascend to heaven with Cinderella, and be forever happy with her in a place where they would never suffer again.
But even the thought of her daughter’s death made her ghostly heart clench with unbearable grief. She was Cinderella’s mother—how could she wish for anything but her child’s long, happy life?
Deep within her soul, Aurelia wished she could live again as a normal human being—walk in sunlight, breathe air, smile, and live beside her daughter. But right now, all Aurelia could do was pray that Cinderella would be rescued by Ryo and Fairy Greatmother, rather than think about her own resurrection.
Because right now, she knew—her daughter’s safety mattered more than anything. If it meant Cinderella could live on—safe, free, smiling again—Aurelia would gladly remain dead, a ghost forever.
After a top-speed journey aboard the Banana Carriage, Ryo’s group finally came to a stop above the grove. Aurelia tilted her head upward, her breath catching as her eyes widened at the strange object before her.
“Is that… a giant flying banana?” she whispered, stunned.
The Banana Carriage slowly descended toward the middle of the grove, finally landing near the Hazel Tree where Aurelia’s grave rested. Aurelia watched the scene nervously. A bizarre, enormous banana now stood at a distance, with a coachman and footman sitting proudly at the front.
The footman stepped down, glancing around without seeming to notice the ghostly Aurelia. Then, with poise, he walked toward the Banana Carriage door and opened it. “Please watch your step,” he said politely.
Aurelia’s nerves only tightened as the first person to step off the carriage revealed himself.
Ryo stepped off, greeted. “Good evening, madam—or should I say… good early morning.”
“Oh!” Aurelia breathed, relieved. “Ryo… good morning. What are you doing here? And what is with the giant banana?”
Ryo chuckled. “Weird, isn’t it? Well, I thought it’s best to stop by and give you a present.”
Aurelia blinked. “A present? But how about your investigation in finding my daughter?”
Ryo didn’t answer, only smiled mysteriously.
Fairy Greatmother was the next to step off the Banana Carriage, moving gracefully forward.
“Why, hello again, dear Aurelia,” she said sweetly. “A wonderful weather, isn’t it, this early morning?”
Aurelia’s confusion deepened. How could Ms. Roselia greet her so casually when both she and Ryo were supposed to be urgently searching for Cinderella?
Next, Vesmyra stepped off the carriage, offering a polite greeting. Aurelia returned it, still puzzled, as Fairy Greatmother introduced Vesmyra as her daughter.
Then the animal agents followed, stepping off the carriage and greeting Aurelia in their animal voices.
Aurelia hovered closer to Ryo, her concern mixed with bafflement. “Ryo, can you tell me what’s going on?”
Ryo grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “We’re here to make the world’s most hated trope happen. Get ready for millions of tables to be flipped into the stratosphere, madam.”
Aurelia’s confusion deepened even more. “There you go with those tropes again… especially the table flip. What are they? And did you find my daughter?”
From inside the carriage, came a voice. “Who are you all talking to?”
Aurelia perked up, her ghostly form trembling. “Another one? But that voice… it sounds familiar…”
And then, at last, the final passenger stepped outside the Banana Carriage.
It was Cinderella.
Aurelia’s eyes widened, her entire being shaking as a whisper slipped out of her lips, breaking apart.
“Cinderella… my…”
Cinderella glanced around, frowning in confusion. “Who is there? Who are you all talking to?”
“MY CHILD!” Aurelia cried, her voice cracking as tears poured from her eyes. She hovered forward in a rush, her breath hitching with every word. “MY GOODNESS! CINDERELLA, MY SWEET CHILD! MY GOD… OH, THANK THE HEAVENS!”
She fell to her knees in front of her daughter, sobbing openly, covering her face with trembling hands. Her voice broke again and again, raw with love and desperation.
“HUUUU!! HUUUUU!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU… FOR SAVING MY CHILD!!”
Everyone in the grove watched in silence, smiles softening their faces at the mother’s overwhelming relief.
But Ryo’s smile faltered when he noticed Cinderella’s expression. She looked lost—confused. It was as if she couldn’t see the woman before her.
He remembered Aurelia once mentioning how Cinderella used to visit her grave, speaking to her, yet never seeing the ghost that hovered there.
Ryo leaned closer to Fairy Greatmother, whispering. “Ma’am, how come everyone here can see Aurelia… except Cinderella?”
Fairy Greatmother folded one arm across her chest, her finger tapping lightly against her temple.
“Only fairies and certain animals can see ghosts, my dear.”
Ryo blinked. “Wait a minute…” He pointed at himself. “Then how come I can see Aurelia?”
Fairy Greatmother tilted her head, curious. “Now that you mention it… Mr. Detective, has any spirit ever possessed you before?”
Ryo’s eyes widened. “Eh…?”
Fairy Greatmother spoke calmly, her words edged with quiet weight.
“If a spirit has once possessed a human, or if that human has crossed paths and truly interacted with a spirit… then sometimes, they gain the sight to see what others cannot.”
She glanced back at Aurelia, her voice softening. “Even I was shocked that you could see her the day we first met her.”
And then—Ryo remembered.
The Crimson Ancient Reaper.
Mr. Grim… who had once invaded his dreams, forcing him through a movie-hopping marathon. First came Mr. Grim’s own life in Ancient Egypt, where he suffered before becoming a reaper. Then followed a dark-history reel about the kingdom of Al-Qamar, long before it became Al-Munira… and in it, the villain Malakar played his part.
“Ahh…” Ryo realized, then muttered, sarcasm so dry it could start a desert, “yeah… a ghost with a shrinking, fading voice once dragged me into an 8D cinema in my brain when I was on the verge of death. Totally normal stuff—one moment I’m in Ancient Egypt, the next in some old version of a hidden land I once visited for a case. The ghost even gave me free VIP tickets with unlimited refills. Full historic tour, bonus nightmare fuel, jump scares included. Honestly? Ten out of ten. Wouldn’t recommend. But hey—at least he didn’t charge me my soul for popcorn.”
Fairy Greatmother turned her head slowly to him, blinking, baffled at every foreign earthling word.
Then Cinderella stepped forward.
Aurelia lowered her trembling hands from her tear-stained face. She stopped sobbing, a hopeful smile breaking through as she stretched out her arms, yearning for an embrace.
But Cinderella only walked straight through her, her ghostly form untouched, and instead approached Ryo.
Aurelia’s smile shattered into sorrow. She had always dreamed of holding Cinderella again—the last time she embraced her child was when she was only a baby, nineteen long years ago. Nineteen years without feeling her warmth.
Now that her daughter had been saved, Aurelia’s heart burned with a single desire: to live again. To take back the years lost, to spend the moments stolen. To walk beside her daughter not as a whisper of memory, but as a mother in flesh and blood.
Yet she knew revival was absurd—fantastical, impossible. Fairy Greatmother could not grant such a miracle. And so Aurelia’s wish swelled painfully in her chest, caught between desperate hope and the crushing weight of impossibility.
Cinderella turned to the grave, her voice soft with longing. “Strange foreign man… I appreciate that you brought me here to my mother’s grave.” She smiled faintly at the tombstone. “I truly do miss her. Sometimes… I just wish I could see her. Hug her. And I know this is silly, but… I want to live alongside her… even though I don’t know her well.”
Aurelia gasped, then spun around, her voice breaking. “ME TOO, MY CHILD! Me too… I want to live and care for you… to watch you grow, to walk beside you… to live together as mother and daughter…”
She clutched her chest, her voice trembling. “There is warmth in me still… perhaps a chance… but—” her gaze fell to the grass, whispered low, “but I do not know if it is possible…”
Still, Cinderella could not hear her.
Fairy Greatmother watched Aurelia, sensing the desperation in her—the longing to live alongside her daughter once more. She understood Aurelia’s feelings, for she too had a granddaughter, Thalirea, who had now renamed herself Carabosse and turned to evil.
Fairy Greatmother truly wished she could live alongside Thalirea again, but for now, she had to step back, hoping Thalirea would reflect on herself.
Everything now rested on her daughter Vesmyra, who had adopted Thalirea when she was just a child. Would Vesmyra abandon her completely, leave her temporarily, or choose another path?
But thinking about Thalirea’s fall was not the time. Fairy Greatmother’s focus was on helping Aurelia, seeking a way to revive her, even if it seemed nearly impossible.
Ryo, having quietly watched the scene, finally spoke. “Cinderella… do you want to live alongside your real mother as well? From this moment onward?”
“Eh?!” Everyone froze, all eyes snapping toward him.
Vesmyra frowned. “But… isn’t that impossible?”
“Exactly,” Cinderella said gently. “While I do wish it could be… there’s no way my mother could be brought back to life.”
Fairy Greatmother tilted her head at him. “What are you on about, Mr. Detective? Shouldn’t I first study the magical phenomenon tied to her grave?”
Cinderella blinked, startled. “Fairy Greatmother… what do you mean by that?!”
Ryo exhaled, rubbing his temple, then glanced at Aurelia. “Madam Aurelia. You want the revival trope or not? What I mean is… do you wish to come back from the dead?”
Aurelia flinched.
Cinderella’s breath caught. “Are you… talking to my mother?” Her head whipped back and forth in confusion. “But where? She should be buried beneath her grave?!”
Aurelia’s lips trembled. She clenched her fists, her teeth, her very soul, no longer able to contain the flood inside her. She surged forward, hovering straight to Ryo, her voice breaking like thunder and tears.
“YES! Yes—I want to live again! To walk this world as a mother, not a ghost! To embrace my daughter, to hear her call me ‘Mama’ with her own voice, while I hold her with my own arms! I want to stay by her side, not just in whispers, not just in memory—BUT IN LIFE! To cook for her, guide her, laugh with her, cry with her… to give her the love I was robbed of for nineteen years! I want to live, live and never let her go again!”
Her words rang with desperation.
Ryo smiled faintly, nodding. “Then let’s make the impossible… possible. Right here, right now.”
Everyone stared, stunned. Aurelia began to whimper, clinging to hope—praying that what she longed for was not just a dream, but a wish that could finally come true.
Fairy Greatmother scratched her head, about to question. “Mr. Detective, what ar—”
But before she could finish, Ryo leaned toward Fairy Greatmother and whispered everything—how the impossible could be made possible—and mentioned the Fairy Godmother’s Rebirth grimoire.
Fairy Greatmother gasped. She remembered that the grimoire could turn someone who was ‘on the verge of death—or not completely dead’—into a Fairy Godmother, just like the first ruler of Lunaveth.
In Aurelia’s case… she wasn’t completely dead. She could still feel warmth in her chest.
Fairy Greatmother turned to Cinderella with sudden purpose.
She raised her wand, smiling. “Cinderella, let’s get you all cleaned up… before you can embrace your mother.”
Cinderella’s eyes widened. “Eh? But—”
Fairy Greatmother twirled her wand over Cinderella, and golden glitter danced around her. Cinderella’s gray gown shimmered and transformed into comfortable, everyday casual wear. The soot and ash on her skin vanished as well.
She looked fresh, neat, and tidy.
Then Ryo ordered Barkface and Barkzilla to dig Aurelia’s grave.
The two canines saluted and approached the grave—but before they could begin, Cinderella panicked.
“Wait! Peanuts!” she shouted.
Barkface perked up and turned around.
“And you too, Cuddles!” she added. Barkzilla also stopped, tilting his head in confusion.
Both canines looked puzzled by the sudden mission abort.
Ryo raised a brow. “What’s wrong?”
Cinderella folded her hands, worry etched on her face. “Are you really sure about this? Digging my mother’s grave… is my mother really around here? Do you really see her? Is she really beside me?”
Ryo rolled his eyes and thought. “Really…? This trope… when the character suddenly interferes with something important and drags it out with a ridiculously long emotional speech just to stop me from digging up a body for the long-awaited revival trope. NOPE! No time for that nonsense.”
He turned to the ghostly Aurelia, gave her a smug grin, and gave her a confident thumbs-up.
Aurelia blinked, confused by his gesture.
Ryo’s expression turned serious. “Continue, my agents. The revival trope must happen without delay.”
The two canines’ eyes sparkled with excitement. With renewed purpose, they dove into the grave, digging fast and deep.
“EEEEHHHH!!!” Cinderella blurted. This was the first time her animal companions had ignored her.
Minutes passed. They dug down six feet, until suddenly, tap!
The canines hit something solid and stopped. Barkzilla brushed the soil away with his paws—and there it was: a glass coffin.
Everyone peered into the grave, their eyes widening.
Ryo whispered, awe-struck. “Woah… is that the glass coffin from Snow White?!”
It was true. As Rosalind had mentioned before, Aurelia had been buried in a glass coffin.
Aurelia hovered nervously, fear tightening her ghostly chest. She closed her eyes and covered her face with both hands, unable to look at her own body.
Fairy Greatmother flicked her wand. Slowly, the glass coffin levitated, lifted from the grave, and gently landed on the grass. The canines leapt off the coffin as it settled.
Dust covered the surface of the coffin. Aurelia’s ghost hovered closer, trembling, peeking nervously through her fingers.
Ryo took a cloth and a bottle of water from his bag, poured some water onto the cloth, and began wiping the glass coffin—revealing the head first.
Cinderella gasped.
There she was… Aurelia’s face finally visible. It had not rotted, as Rosalind had told from her story. She had not aged in nineteen years, her youth perfectly preserved.
It was like looking at a slightly older version of Cinderella herself—both ghostly and physical Aurelia shared the same face, the same gentle, familiar features.
Then Ryo slowly opened the coffin. The world seemed to hold its breath as everyone gazed at Aurelia’s body in full.
Cinderella dropped to her knees, crawling toward her mother, tears streaming freely.
“Mama… MAMAAAA!” she sobbed, pressing her palms and face against her mother’s chest. “I… I wanted to meet you… I wanted to walk with you, laugh with you, play with you… cook with you… have meals with you… just… just be with you, Mama! I’ve dreamed of this every day for so long!”
The ghostly Aurelia hovered close, her ethereal arms wrapping around Cinderella’s back. Though she could not fully touch her daughter, she mimicked the embrace as best she could.
“My child… my beloved child… I wanted to do the same, to hold you close, hear you laugh, feel your warmth, never leave your side… I have longed to be with you, to live for you, to watch you grow… I’ve waited for this moment my whole existence!” Aurelia’s voice trembled, desperation and love spilling into every word.
Fairy Greatmother and Vesmyra’s eyes glistened with tears at the sight. The animals watched silently, their eyes soft with emotion.
Vesmyra gently leaned in, placing a comforting hand on Cinderella’s shoulder.
Ryo examined the linen wrapped around Aurelia’s neck—it was weathered, frayed by time. The burial gown was similarly worn. Yet her body remained untouched by age, youthful and perfect.
Carefully, Ryo unwrapped the linen from her neck. The slash wound inflicted by Edmund nineteen years ago was gone, healed as if it had never existed.
He paused, wondering what had caused Aurelia to feel warmth in her chest. Of course, he knew the glass coffin held some kind of magic crafted by the dwarfs. But even now, after Fairy Greatmother had thoroughly examined it, she still couldn’t explain it—the magic of this glass coffin was too mysterious.
Ryo then politely asked Cinderella to move aside. She obeyed, sniffling and wiping her tears.
Ryo turned to the ghostly Aurelia. “Madam… would it be alright if I checked your… uhh… chest? I’ve done this before, back in my police days… autopsies. I’ll be careful. May I?”
Aurelia blushed furiously, and reluctantly nodded. She would allow anything if it meant a chance at revival.
Ryo gently slipped his hand beneath the chest area of her burial gown, covering it with a cloth with his other hand to maintain her modesty.
The ghostly Aurelia squealed, embarrassed.
He pressed carefully, feeling for anything—the warmth she had always felt as a ghost.
Then, ba-dum… ba-dum…
Ryo gasped. Not only did he feel a faint warmth, but also a heartbeat. Weak, trembling, but undeniably alive.
Everyone watched his reaction, curious.
Ryo then checked her wrist—weak pulse. He moved to her nose and mouth, placing his ear near them.
A faint breath escaped her mouth, inhalation through her nose. Weak, shallow, but unmistakably life.
It was as Fairy Greatmother had said: Aurelia was more like asleep.
This was strange for Fairy Greatmother as well—she swore she hadn’t felt a heartbeat or breath when she examined Aurelia’s grave the first time. So what kind of magic lay within that glass coffin that kept her from detecting life?
Ryo’s eyes scanned her body, then the ghostly Aurelia beside him.
A question formed in his mind, tinged with awe and disbelief. “Is she really… fully a ghost?”
But that’s when Ryo remembered—back in his geeky, internet-obsessed childhood days, he had once read about spirit projection, a phenomenon where a person’s spirit or consciousness temporarily leaves their physical body, while the body remains alive but often unconscious or unresponsive.
That… that could explain Aurelia’s current state.
Ryo straightened, turning to Fairy Greatmother. “Ma’am, you may proceed.”
Fairy Greatmother smiled warmly and nodded. “Very well, my dear.”
Aurelia’s breath caught, a hopeful gleam spreading across her face. “Eh?! Is it really happening?!”
Even Cinderella whispered, wide-eyed. “Could it be…?”
With a graceful flick of her wand, Fairy Greatmother summoned the ‘Fairy Godmother’s Rebirth’ grimoire, floating mid-air.
She opened it to a precise page, the title shining in gold, ancient letters: “The Birth of the Fairy Godmother.”
Fairy Greatmother instructed everyone to step back, leaving her alone by Aurelia’s body.
“Hover above your body, Aurelia,” she said softly, and Aurelia obediently rose, hands folded over her chest, casting a tender glance at her daughter with a soft smile before closing her eyes.
Then Fairy Greatmother began chanting the revival spell, her voice steady, melodic, and imbued with magic that made the very air shimmer.
“Hush, O night, and still, O land,
Bear witness now to a wondrous birth.
From mortal rest where silence lay,
A brighter path shall rise today.
By gentle heart and selfless hand,
By unseen grace through mortal span,
Her spirit pure shall rise above,
Crowned by mercy, bound by love.
No longer bound by time’s decay,
But light eternal to guide the way.
By star’s decree and moonbeam’s art,
A guardian wakes with timeless heart.
O kindred soul, take up thy flame,
Thy gentle will, thy hallowed name.
Not death, but change, thy fate shall be—
A Fairy Godmother, eternally free.
So rise, O spirit, in glory untold,
Bathed in white, crowned in gold.
Let all the heavens proclaim her worth,
The Godmother born, a light to land.
And let the world in wonder see—
The birth of magic’s destiny.”
Aurelia’s body shimmered in pure white, rising gently into the air while still lying flat on her back. White, radiant wind spiraled around her, twisting and dancing like a living aura.
Her ghostly form opened her eyes, voice barely more than a whisper carried on the wind.
“Cinderella… my child… I love you… and I always have… even after nineteen long years.”
Cinderella’s breath caught. She could finally hear her.
Suddenly, Aurelia’s ghostly form shimmered brighter, turning a pure, glowing white. Cinderella gasped—she could finally see her mother’s ethereal presence.
“Mama… is that… you?” Cinderella whispered, voice trembling.
Aurelia smiled softly, eyes shining. “Yes, my child. You can finally see me… I’m here.”
Cinderella’s lips quivered as tears welled up.
Aurelia’s ghostly form began to dissolve into luminous particles, drifting gently toward her physical body.
HHHHHHMMMMMMM… FWWWWOOOOOOOMMMM!… WHHHHHOOOOOOOOSSSHHHH!
Aurelia’s body erupted in radiant white light. A magical wind swirled around her, twisting into a glowing vortex.
Slowly, a white robe formed around her, flowing elegantly. A golden crown settled upon her head. Her body straightened, regal and alive.
A snowflake-tipped wand materialized in her right hand. She drifted down, landing softly on the grass. The glow around her gradually faded, leaving her luminous and fully present.
Aurelia slowly opened her eyes and blinked rapidly, her vision slowly coming into focus. She touched her arms, her body, her face, her chest… and gasped, whispering in awe.
“Am I… really… alive?”
Fairy Greatmother gently tapped her back. “Yes, Aurelia, my dear… you are.”
Ryo crossed his arms, whistling with genuine awe. “Woah! Never have I ever… seen a real-life revival trope actually happen in front of me. And I’ve seen some weird stuff in my life.”
Cinderella couldn’t contain herself. “MAMA!” she shouted, running forward, arms wide.
“MY CHILD!” Aurelia cried, arms mirroring her daughter’s, rushing into a warm embrace. Aurelia’s hands brushed Cinderella’s hair, holding her close.
Aurelia’s voice cracked, overflowing with joy and relief.
“OH, MY SWEET CHILD! It’s been so long… far too long… since I’ve felt your warmth, Cinderella! I never imagined I’d be able to hold you like this again!”
Cinderella’s heart swelled, voice trembling with happiness.
“ME TOO, MAMA! Even though I was just a baby when we were separated, I always felt… something missing… a warmth I didn’t understand… and now I know it was you, my real mother, all along!”
They sank to their knees on the grass, sobbing freely, tears streaming without restraint. Aurelia then pulled back and held her hands on both Cinderellas cheeks, and hugged her child again.
Ryo, hands in his pockets, smiled quietly.
Vesmyra and Fairy Greatmother’s eyes glistened with happy tears, silently witnessing the long-awaited reunion.
Even the animal agents sniffled, moved by the heartfelt scene.
The footman and coachman, pride in their posture, handed out handkerchiefs generously, as if honoring the sacredness of this moment, and then, after serving their purpose, they disappeared—along with the unicorn and banana carriage.
The grove echoed with cries of joy, love, and reunion—mother and daughter finally, miraculously together again.
Ryo gave them the time they needed, quietly stepping back as they cried their hearts out. Ten long minutes passed before the tears subsided, and Aurelia and Cinderella finally rose to their feet, wiping away the last tears of joy from their eyes.
Aurelia turned to Ryo and Fairy Greatmother, gratitude shining in her expression. She thanked them deeply—for rescuing her child from captivity, for reuniting them, and even for granting her the impossible gift of revival. Fairy Greatmother gently reminded her that none of it would have been possible without Ryo’s perceptive eyes, sharp mind, and relentless will; even she would not have realized Aurelia could be revived if he hadn’t mentioned the Fairy Godmother’s Rebirth grimoire.
Ryo only scratched the back of his head, replying modestly that it was nothing—that he was only doing his job as a detective. Though, he admitted with a crooked grin, he never expected to be wrapped up in the revival trope of the mother of the world’s most famous protagonist.
Cinderella tilted her head at that, puzzled, and asked him directly why he kept calling her a “protagonist.”
But Ryo didn’t answer. Instead, he suddenly took out his notebook and pen from his coat pocket, flipping to a blank page. He held it out to Cinderella with surprising seriousness and asked for her autograph.
The young woman blinked, entirely confused, and asked what an “autograph” even was.
Ryo explained with pride that it was something he intended to frame and display in his office—a treasured keepsake. More than that, he joked that it would make a certain rat from the “Rodents Cheddar Kingdom” burn with jealousy, because he had met the real-life Cinderella before that rat ever could.
Still baffled, Cinderella took the notebook and pen, asking what exactly she should write. Ryo instructed her plainly: just her signature, along with a message that read, “I met Ryo Kuroda, the strange foreign man from Japan, and he is a wonderful detective.”
Cinderella stared at him for a long moment, even more confused than before, but eventually resigned herself to his odd request. She wrote down her signature and the message just as he asked, then returned the notebook to him.
Ryo’s eyes lit up instantly, sparkling with boyish triumph as he clutched the notebook to his chest. He swore silently that he would cherish this autograph and message forever—that he would display it proudly on the front desk of his office for all future clients and visitors to see, and even brag about it at every chance.
Of course, what he didn’t yet realize was that many people back on Earth would never believe him.
And Aurelia, watching the scene, couldn’t help but smile. She was proud—proud of the impact her daughter had, even in this strange “Rodents Cheddar Kingdom” Ryo spoke of. Though she only half believed in his outrageous words, the way he said it with such conviction almost made her want to believe it entirely.
Then Aurelia asked her daughter. “My child, do you have a wish?”
“A wish?” Cinderella tilted her head. “What do you mean by that, Mama?”
“Has there ever been something in your life that made things difficult… something you wished you could remove, so your burdens would be lighter?” Aurelia asked gently.
“But why would you ask me that, Mama?” Cinderella wondered.
Aurelia smiled softly. “Because now that I have returned, I carry the role of the Fairy Godmother. I hold the power to grant wishes—sometimes small, sometimes great. And if it eases your heart, I shall grant yours.”
Fairy Greatmother nodded in confirmation, her tone calm but assured.
“It is true, Cinderella, my dear. Your mother’s gift is now similar to mine. As once I dressed you in a golden gown on the night of your first royal ball, so too can she reshape your life with grace.”
Cinderella lowered her eyes to the grass, in deep thought, then lifted her gaze back to her mother.
“I wish… for my ice powers to be gone forever.”
Ryo blinked. “Oh? So you’re saying you wanna be fully human?”
Cinderella gave a faint smile. “Why yes. I want to live my life without fear—without worrying that my ice powers will spiral out of control every time I fall into despair. It’s been such a burden.”
Her voice softened, almost apologetic as she turned to Aurelia. “I’m sorry, Mama. I know you’re not human, and I carry your blood. That’s why this power rests in me. So… it may sound cruel to say I don’t want it anymore, but…” She clutched her skirt tightly, voice trembling. “Is it too much to wish for that?”
Aurelia did not hesitate. She slowly shook her head, smiling. “No, my precious child.” She placed a tender hand upon her daughter’s shoulder. “All I have ever wanted is for you to live free… to know warmth instead of chains. Even I once struggled with these powers when I was young. They raged out of my control, hurting those around me, until my old kingdom feared me and cast me into exile. I know how heavy that burden is. And so, I shall grant your wish. Gladly. For no gift is greater to me than your freedom.”
“Mama…” Cinderella whispered, her eyes brimming. She threw her arms around Aurelia, holding her tightly, gratitude flooding her heart. Aurelia embraced her back, relieved she could finally do something—something truly motherly—for her daughter, even if it was in a magical way.
Then, Aurelia stepped back, raising her snowflake-tipped wand. With a graceful twirl, frost-like glitter spiraled around Cinderella.
Cinderella’s body shimmered faintly in light blue. A sky-colored orb of ice emerged from her chest, pulsing once before it cracked and shattered into stardust that dissolved into the wind. The glow around her body slowly faded.
“How do you feel, my dear?” Fairy Greatmother asked softly.
Cinderella lifted her hand, rubbing her palm. That familiar coldness was gone. She tested it, letting her mind dip into sorrow—but no frost, no chill, no uncontrolled magic burst forth.
Her breath caught. “It’s gone… I feel… warmer.” Her eyes widened, her smile bursting with light. She turned to her animal friends, shouting with joy, “Everyone! I feel warmer!”
The animal agents cheered in their voices and rushed to her, toppling her into the grass. She laughed freely, her joy ringing brighter than ever.
“Coo cooo!” McPecker cooed, louder than usual.
“MEW!” Whiskers cried, rubbing his head against her chin.
Cinderella giggled, rubbing McPecker’s head. “Thank you, Muffin.” Then she snuggled her cheek against Whiskers. “And thank you too, Honeybun.”
Cinderella was no longer half-Frostreaver. She was simply… human. A normal, happy girl.
She no longer needed the Glass Slippers to contain her powers, since her icy abilities were gone. She handed the slippers to her mother, who made them vanish with her wand. Fairy Greatmother then gave Cinderella a pair of ordinary boots to wear.
Ryo, watching with his hands in his pockets, muttered under his breath.
“Ah, happy endings… the good stuff. Hope those critics who thrive on heartbreak take notes instead of writing angry essays online.”
He muttered again, smirking to himself. “And maybe next time, they won’t flip their tables so hard they break the legs.”
The moment Ryo said that…
Everyone on earth felt it—an invisible finger pointing, mocking, daring them to object. The world erupted into total, unrestrained chaos. Tables flew through the air like guided missiles, chairs spun across rooms, and desks vaulted over office walls. Pens, papers, coffee mugs, and laptops became airborne weapons in the great furniture war. People shoved each other, tripped spectacularly over their own feet, and wildly gestured at invisible insults. Some collapsed dramatically onto the floor, clutching their chests as if the universe had personally insulted them, while others flung chairs with the strength of seasoned athletes.
One particularly ambitious table rocketed straight into the stratosphere, spinning past planes, jets, and even a launched rocket, nearly escaping Earth’s atmosphere. Onlookers below gaped in awe and terror, unsure whether to scream or salute the flying furniture.
Meanwhile, another unlucky table—launched with equally insane force—isekai’d itself into a cliched fantasy world, smacking the heroic protagonist squarely on the head. He collapsed unconscious while his harem stood nearby, panicked and tearful, unsure how to revive their fallen hero.
But the chaos didn’t stop there: yet another table was flung into the same world, hitting the demon lord squarely on the head and killing it instantly. The heroes’ prophecy to save the world was rendered pointless, leaving the goddess who had summoned him utterly stunned, her role seemingly meaningless—all because a single, ordinary table had saved the world instead.
Back on Earth, the table-flipping frenzy continued relentless. People slammed, kicked, and hurled furniture in perfect, chaotic synchrony. Coffee spilled everywhere, papers rained down like confetti, and some tables ricocheted off walls, hitting unsuspecting coworkers.
Entire offices, classrooms, and homes became arenas of absurd human fury, each act of over-the-top outrage feeding into the next. Every person on Earth seemed simultaneously furious, helpless, and wildly theatrical—utterly undone by Ryo’s comment, which they weren’t aware of but could feel.
By the time the dust settled—or at least slowed—millions of tables had been flipped, thrown, or launched into orbit, and civilization collectively realized: nobody had been safe from the chaos unleashed by a single casual line.
Back in Evendelle…
Above the village square, two figures floated high, looking down at the village. They were positioned a little apart from each other.
It was Carabosse and Petyr Pann.
Carabosse, her fan close to her mouth, glanced to the side and asked. “Little boy… what is with that awful dress and hat you are wearing?”
Petyr Pann sighed, feeling hurt. “Your Grace… this pirate outfit’s cool. The hat and eye patch—I stole them all from Captain Hook’s ship.” He pouted, arms crossed. “Kinda hurts when you call it ugly. I picked the best ones.”
Petyr Pann continued, “And besides, I want to look more fashionable for this moment… the most hyped-up moment when we unleash the Vrakuls upon Evendelle.” He backflipped while floating and cheered loudly, fist punching the sky. “YEEEEHHAAAWW!!!!”
Back in the grove…
Ryo’s eyes widened, his face darkening. He heard the echoing cheer, and it even reached the grove where his group was. That cheer gave him a bad feeling—it sounded way too familiar.
Ryo immediately told Fairy Greatmother that they should all return to the village immediately. Petyr Pann and Carabosse were probably there, continuing their chaos. Everyone in the grove gasped and agreed.
Aurelia said that she would teleport everyone to the village square using her newly acquired Fairy Godmother power. She lifted her snowflake-tipped wand and cast the teleportation spell. The ground beneath them all lit up, and a white magic circle appeared. In the next instant, everyone vanished, and they were teleported to the village square.
Everyone in Ryo’s group then gazed up and saw the two villains.
Petyr Pann perked up as he saw Ryo’s group and waved down. “Hey detective! Nice to see you again,” he grinned. “Maaaan, the old lady and the pets sure gave me a blow to the head earlier.”
Vesmyra, offended, pointed sharply. “DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME AN OLD LADY AGAIN, YOU FOOLISH CHILD!”
Petyr Pann put his hands on his cheeks, pretending to be horrified. “OH NO! The ‘getting hit because I called her an old lady’ trope is about to happen again!”
Ryo’s face darkened, serious. “Okay, kid… enough with calling out the clichés. What are you two up to this time? I’m not here to work overtime—I just finished my detective job in this world, finding Cinderella,” he gestured to her. “Look, the protagonist, safe and sound.” He clenched his fist, annoyed, eyes twitching. “So can you both give up and leave?” Then, sounding bitter, he added, “Or I’ll charge you both extra on ma’am’s behalf!”
Carabosse’s lips curled into a sly smile. “We won’t do that. With the black shards gone, I can’t rule Evendelle by force anymore — so I’ll obliterate it instead.”
“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWW,” Ryo said, baffled. “Not the type to give up just because you feel bitter over losing, huh? HOW ORIGINAL!” He whipped out his gun and aimed at them. “In that case… let’s end this here before you bastards cause any more trouble in this kingdom. I’m not really in the mood to drag out fights.”
Petyr Pann smirked sinisterly. “Okay detective… but we’re not the only ones you’re gonna face in a shounen battle.”
Ryo’s voice dropped low, cautious. “What the hell are you on about, kid?”
Petyr Pann reached into his pocket and pulled out an object.
Ryo’s eyes slowly widened in horror. He knew that object too well—from his previous case in Al-Munira.
{The Celestial Compass}
Ryo’s breath caught. He remembered the compass was thrown into the ‘Gate of Malevolent Spirit’ back in the black pyramid, thanks to Amina and Aladdin’s help. The black pyramid itself had even sunk into the sand, along with the gate, to prevent anyone foolish enough from finding it again. Mr. Grim had made sure of that.
So why… why is the Celestial Compass with Petyr Pann now? And in this fairytale world? Despite already being sunk into the hidden lands of Al-Munira back on Earth?
Ryo shouted, furious. “WHY THE F**K DO YOU HAVE THAT WITH YOU?!”
Petyr Pann then raised the compass, about to chant.
Ryo gasped and aimed his gun squarely at Petyr Pann before he could speak. If he chanted, the Vrakuls would be unleashed like before.
But then Ryo froze. What Petyr Pann started chanting left him baffled and stunned.
Petyr Pann began. “YO GATE OF MALEVOLENT SPIRITS — I’M UNLOCKING Y’ALL. GO OFF, BREAK STUFF, THROW SHADE, SPREAD CHAOS, TREND ON MORTALS, AND MAKE IT VIRAL. NO CAP. #ChaosMode #VillainVibes #WreckItTime #MainCharacterEnergy #EpicAF #MoodForever #BigBrainEvil #IDontDoChill #CosmicDrama #UnleashTheSpirits #AbsoluteMadness #PeakVillain #SendIt #ApocalypseReady #LOLFrFr!”
Ryo’s group just stared at Petyr Pann, completely speechless at the absurdity of the chant.
Petyr Pann blinked, lowered his hand, and stared at the compass. “Huh? Why is it not working? I swear I was able to release some Vrakuls last time.”
Carabosse glared at him and threw her fan. SMACK! It hit him square on the head.
“OUCH!” Petyr clutched his head in pain.
Carabosse shouted. “WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU CHANTING, YOU STUPID LITTLE BOY!!!”
Petyr Pann panicked, fumbling. “B-b-but your grace! It worked last time!”
“THAT’S THE WRONG CHANT, YOU MONGREL!” Carabosse snapped.
“Oh! Right! Hahaha…” Petyr Pann laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.
Then Petyr Pann raised his hand and began chanting again.
Ryo aimed and shouted. “EVERYONE! TAKE HIM DOWN BEFORE HE FINISHES THE CHANT!”
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Aurelia told the animals to take care of Cinderella, and then she quickly teleported her daughter and the animals back to the grove, ensuring they would be safe from the chaos.
Vesmyra, Aurelia, and Fairy Greatmother began unleashing attack spells at Petyr Pann, but he dodged them effortlessly. Carabosse even cast defensive spells to protect him from the attacks.
While dodging, Petyr Pann chanted correctly this time.
“OH, GATE OF MALEVOLENT SPIRITS, I HEREBY UNLOCK YOU AND RELEASE YOU FROM YOUR RESTRAINTS!”
The Celestial Compass began glowing, pulsing with a sinister purple-black light.
Ryo gritted his teeth. “SH*T!”
Suddenly, a tall black monolith of a gate appeared, hovering in the air between the villains. Ryo’s eyes widened in horror—the same gate from the black pyramid in Al-Munira. It pushed open wide.
This time, no burst of purple or black light poured out, but a deafening ROOOOAAAR shook the air.
A giant horned Vrakul head slowly emerged from the gate. Ryo recognized it immediately—it was the same Vrakul he had once kicked in the face when he gained the Crimson Gunslinger power from Mr. Grim.
Fairy Greatmother and Vesmyra stared in horror, remembering this gate—the void that had pulled in Thalirea fifteen years ago, before she became Carabosse.
The giant horned Vrakul turned its head toward Ryo, full of hate, pointing at him with its massive arm, and roared.
Petyr Pann smirked. “OF COURSE, BOSS!”
He dashed downward, drew his dagger. “Ready for a shounen battle of our own, detective?” Petyr slashed at him excitedly.
Ryo quickly put away his gun, slid both tonfas from his sleeves, and raised them in defense. CLANG! He was pushed back, skidding across the ground, resisting Petyr’s impact.
Petyr continued slashing while laughing. Ryo hit back with his tonfas, but Petyr dodged, keeping the melee going. Ryo’s palm was slightly cut, bleeding, while Petyr took a hit to the face from a tonfa. They exchanged blow after blow.
While fighting, Ryo remembered back in the ballroom that Carabosse had told him they received orders to kill him. Perhaps the horned Vrakul was the one who gave those orders, furious because Ryo had once sent it flying back into the gate with a powerful kick in Al-Munira, inside the black pyramid. It was only a guess, but it could very well be true.
Ryo couldn’t do much in his current form; he was just a regular detective, without the Silver Armed Sniper or Crimson Gunslinger powers that once allowed him to fight the Vrakuls easily.
Suddenly, ghostly Vrakuls began flying out of the gate, shrieking, and started destroying rooftops. People sleeping in their homes woke up to the chaos, looked out the windows, and saw the devastation. They quickly fled their homes in panic, escaping the village before they could be harmed. Fairy Greatmother and Vesmyra covered the villagers with defensive spells, ensuring they all got out safely.
Vesmyra, watching her stepdaughter, felt fury and frustration boil like molten fire. She had once taken in Thalirea with love, but now Thalirea had become Carabosse—pure evil and destructive. Her eyes widened violently; something inside her snapped, and her pupils shrank to pinpoints, a storm of wrath burning behind them.
“As of today… Thalirea… you… no… Carabosse,” she whispered through gritted teeth. Then, shouting to the heavens, she yelled, “I HEREBY DISOWN PERMANENTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Fairy Greatmother glanced at Vesmyra. Seeing that her daughter had reached her limit, she knew she could no longer consider Carabosse her granddaughter either.
Glowing with golden light, Fairy Greatmother flew forward and began casting attack spells at the small ghostly Vrakuls, destroying them one by one. Aurelia joined in, helping to eliminate the ghostly Vrakuls.
Vesmyra spread her wings and unleashed deadly attacks at Carabosse.
Carabosse’s grin widened with evil delight. “Good! I never saw you as a mother in the first place.” She counterattacked, and the two clashed in a fierce battle.
Aurelia lowered her wand, breathing heavily, exhausted from the endless attacks. Her eyes caught the giant horned Vrakul, halfway through crawling out of the gate. She couldn’t allow that to happen.
Ever since her revival and gaining the Fairy Godmother powers, Aurelia had also acquired vast knowledge of spells that came with it. Among them was one spell—a spell that could end all this madness. It could completely close the gate and push the giant horned Vrakul back before it fully emerged.
But the spell came at a cost. Using it would strip Aurelia of her Fairy Godmother powers. The overwhelming energy might even cost her life. She didn’t know if she would survive. Yet, for the kingdom of Evendelle—and for her daughter’s chance to live in peace—Aurelia made her choice.
She would cast the spell, no matter the risk.
Aurelia raised her wand, her voice steady but resolute as she began chanting:
“By star and moon, by sun and flame,
I bind thee, spirit, in Heaven’s name.
Chains of light, from dawn to night,
Fetter the beast, restrain its might.
By cosmic will, by eternal hand,
I weave the lock across this land.
Gate of shadow, gate of pain,
Feel the chains, be bound again.
Not death, but change, my power I yield,
To forge a seal no force can wield.
By runes of light and sacred breath,
I cast thee back, O harbinger of death.
Rise no more, nor pierce our plane,
By my sacrifice, thy wrath is chained.
Let all the heavens bear witness today—
The abyss is closed, the dark held at bay.”
Suddenly, giant chains of light erupted into midair, coiling tightly around the giant horned Vrakul’s massive body. Another set of chains spiraled around the gate itself, gradually forcing it to close inward.
The giant horned Vrakul roared in outrage, thrashing and struggling against the glowing bonds.
Carabosse, still locked in combat with Vesmyra, stared in horror. The Gate of Malevolent Spirits she had fought to open was now closing. Her gaze snapped to Aurelia, panic flashing across her face. She clenched her teeth, furious, and raised her wand to stop the spell.
But before Carabosse could cast, Vesmyra lunged forward with precise fury, landing a powerful punch squarely on Carabosse’s face. Carabosse flew backward, crashing into the village square fountain. The impact shattered the fountain completely, leaving a jagged crater where it once stood.
Vesmyra didn’t hesitate. She unleashed a barrage of deadly water spells at Carabosse while the villain lay sprawled on the fountain remains. Her anger burned too intensely to hold back. The betrayal cut too deep.
Vesmyra’s mind raced as she attacked: the way Carabosse—once Thalirea—had acted now, the full extent of her evil deeds, left no room for mercy. Ever since Vesmyra had adopted Thalirea, she had felt a nagging unease. Every moment of apparent innocence, every gesture of obedience—it had all felt like an act, a carefully maintained mask. Vesmyra realized with bitter clarity that Thalirea, now Carabosse, may have been plotting in secret all along, biding her time, waiting until she was older and the perfect opportunity arose to strike. Even the day she was dragged into the void might have been part of that long-conceived plan. Vesmyra still loved her no matter what, but now… this felt more like a betrayal.
The realization fueled Vesmyra’s power. Her attacks struck faster, harder, without pause, as the chains of light around the Vrakul and the gate continued to tighten, bringing the spell closer to its devastating conclusion.
Meanwhile…
While Ryo was still in combat with Petyr Pann…
The villain kept mocking him—pushing him back, calling him weak, and spouting childish insults. Ryo was having a hard time fighting him because Petyr was stubborn and swift; it was like battling a crazy kid spiraling completely out of control.
But then Petyr Pann heard the groaning of the gate closing and the horned Vrakul’s roar as it struggled against the chains of light. His breath caught; he paused the fight with Ryo and turned to look.
Ryo took a step back, thinking. “Oh? The classic ‘pause the fight and turn around because the enemy was distracted by something’ trope? Bad idea, kid.”
He remembered how durable Petyr had been when one of Ryo’s agents struck him from the sky and sent him crashing into the farmland — Petyr had survived that without dying. That told Ryo Petyr’s body could take a lot. Ryo also remembered the human pressure points he’d studied — the ones that could disable a person fast — and a plan formed in his head.
Ryo noticed the Celestial Compass tucked in Petyr Pann’s thigh pocket. Quiet as a shadow, he closed the distance and snatched it.
Petyr felt the emptiness in his pocket and spun around, but it was too late.
With a single hard swing of his tonfa, Ryo struck Petyr’s nape. Petyr’s limbs went floppy; he stumbled.
Ryo muttered. “You should’ve done your homework by watching more cliché battle shounens to piece things together, kid.”
Ryo followed up with a strike to Petyr’s chest core. The body stiffened.
“Because when there’s a distraction,” Ryo muttered, “usually the enemy looks away while the protagonist does all that useless waiting, giving the enemy a chance to take a break for a moment before looking back…”
He hit the middle back nodes. Petyr’s arms and legs seized; he almost fell.
“…but with me? I’m not waiting…” Ryo continued, and drove a strike into Petyr’s throat cluster. Petyr twitched, motions jerky.
“…because when there’s an opening…” Ryo hit the lower belly port; Petyr froze, eyes flickering.
“…I immediately seize the opportunity and strike. I do not do that pathetic ‘waiting for the enemy to look back’ nonsense…” Ryo said as he spun, then struck the shin brace. Petyr’s legs collapsed; he slammed face-first into the ground.
Ryo smirked. “Because… that’s how the protagonist always loses or the fight drags on for multiple episodes.”
Petyr’s vision blurred; the world spun. “SH*T! I need to get out of here!! Gotta get that compass back fast!” he thought.
Even weakened, Petyr could still fly. He can grab the Celestial Compass with his mouth and shot upward.
Ryo held the compass in his hand. “Looking for this, kid?”
Petyr’s eyes widened; he raised his head and shouted. “YO! GIVE IT BACK, DAMN IT!”
“Then come and get it,” Ryo said, and threw the compass high into the air.
Petyr shot after it, Ryo drew his gun and aimed it at the cursed artifact. Time seemed to stretch—his mind racing even as the world slowed. If he shot the compass now, would the gate close completely? Back in Al Munira, both the compass and Malakar had to be thrown through the gate for it to shut.
If he destroyed the compass here, could the gate seal without throwing Petyr or Carabosse inside?
His eyes flicked to Aurelia—the caster forcing the gate closed—then to the giant horned Vrakul being slowly pushed back by the chains of light. Would destroying the compass be enough to finish the job, or would the gate hang open unless the villains were sent through?
And then, he made his decision…
Ryo’s gaze cut back to the artifact, steady and cold. In a near whisper, with a gamer calm voice.
“Zeroing Complete. That cursed compass from hell? Absolute delete incoming. No hacks, no mods, no respawns, no cheat codes can save it. Endgame mode activated — and I’m making sure of it.”
He pulled the trigger five times: BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Petyr was almost on the compass, mouth open — but Ryo’s bullets arrived first. CRACK! The Celestial Compass SHATTERED into shards.
Petyr gasped, choking the word. “NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!”
Near passing out from pain and force, Petyr shot himself above the clouds and lost consciousness mid-flight; eyes rolled back, white.
The colossal horned Vrakul roared, convulsing in agony as the destruction of the compass sent violent shockwaves rippling through its massive body. Its resistance faded; the chains of light tightened. The gate drew shut and dragged the monster back inside. Slowly, the gate vanished into nothing. Fairy Greatmother finished off the last of the ghostly Vrakuls.
Carabosse, still resisting Vesmyra’s deadly attacks, forced herself upward through the sky, snatched Petyr Pann’s unconscious body, and rocketed away into the distance.
With a low, guttural hiss, Carabosse looked back down. “Curse you all… You’ll pay for this.” Then, fixing her glare on Ryo, she screamed, “I SWEAR I’LL DESTROY YOU SOMEDAY, SO-CALLED SHERLOCK HOLMES!!!!”
Ryo spun his gun with a cocky grin and said. “Mission complete. Boss fight won, fairytale kingdom saved — endgame achieved, and I’m the final boss.”
In the Grove…
Aurelia… Cinderella’s ghostly mother, hovered and wandered beneath the Hazel Tree, her face clouded with worry. She feared that if her daughter was not rescued from captivity very soon… Cinderella might die.
Aurelia had always wanted to live and stay by her daughter’s side for a long time, but death had taken her too early—nineteen years ago, when Kaj, her husband, murdered her. And now, all she could do was linger, wishing that one day… after Fairy Greatmother examined her grave, she could tell her why she suddenly felt warmth in her chest, even though she was dead.
Aurelia drifted closer to her grave and thought. “Am I really dead? Can I… still be alive again, and live alongside my daughter?”
But worry crept in deeper. Because Cinderella was still gone. And if her daughter died while in captivity, then there would be no point to resurrection, even if Fairy Greatmother could make it possible.
If that happened, Aurelia thought, then she would rather ascend to heaven with Cinderella, and be forever happy with her in a place where they would never suffer again.
But even the thought of her daughter’s death made her ghostly heart clench with unbearable grief. She was Cinderella’s mother—how could she wish for anything but her child’s long, happy life?
Deep within her soul, Aurelia wished she could live again as a normal human being—walk in sunlight, breathe air, smile, and live beside her daughter. But right now, all Aurelia could do was pray that Cinderella would be rescued by Ryo and Fairy Greatmother, rather than think about her own resurrection.
Because right now, she knew—her daughter’s safety mattered more than anything. If it meant Cinderella could live on—safe, free, smiling again—Aurelia would gladly remain dead, a ghost forever.
After a top-speed journey aboard the Banana Carriage, Ryo’s group finally came to a stop above the grove. Aurelia tilted her head upward, her breath catching as her eyes widened at the strange object before her.
“Is that… a giant flying banana?” she whispered, stunned.
The Banana Carriage slowly descended toward the middle of the grove, finally landing near the Hazel Tree where Aurelia’s grave rested. Aurelia watched the scene nervously. A bizarre, enormous banana now stood at a distance, with a coachman and footman sitting proudly at the front.
The footman stepped down, glancing around without seeming to notice the ghostly Aurelia. Then, with poise, he walked toward the Banana Carriage door and opened it. “Please watch your step,” he said politely.
Aurelia’s nerves only tightened as the first person to step off the carriage revealed himself.
Ryo stepped off, greeted. “Good evening, madam—or should I say… good early morning.”
“Oh!” Aurelia breathed, relieved. “Ryo… good morning. What are you doing here? And what is with the giant banana?”
Ryo chuckled. “Weird, isn’t it? Well, I thought it’s best to stop by and give you a present.”
Aurelia blinked. “A present? But how about your investigation in finding my daughter?”
Ryo didn’t answer, only smiled mysteriously.
Fairy Greatmother was the next to step off the Banana Carriage, moving gracefully forward.
“Why, hello again, dear Aurelia,” she said sweetly. “A wonderful weather, isn’t it, this early morning?”
Aurelia’s confusion deepened. How could Ms. Roselia greet her so casually when both she and Ryo were supposed to be urgently searching for Cinderella?
Next, Vesmyra stepped off the carriage, offering a polite greeting. Aurelia returned it, still puzzled, as Fairy Greatmother introduced Vesmyra as her daughter.
Then the animal agents followed, stepping off the carriage and greeting Aurelia in their animal voices.
Aurelia hovered closer to Ryo, her concern mixed with bafflement. “Ryo, can you tell me what’s going on?”
Ryo grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “We’re here to make the world’s most hated trope happen. Get ready for millions of tables to be flipped into the stratosphere, madam.”
Aurelia’s confusion deepened even more. “There you go with those tropes again… especially the table flip. What are they? And did you find my daughter?”
From inside the carriage, came a voice. “Who are you all talking to?”
Aurelia perked up, her ghostly form trembling. “Another one? But that voice… it sounds familiar…”
And then, at last, the final passenger stepped outside the Banana Carriage.
It was Cinderella.
Aurelia’s eyes widened, her entire being shaking as a whisper slipped out of her lips, breaking apart.
“Cinderella… my…”
Cinderella glanced around, frowning in confusion. “Who is there? Who are you all talking to?”
“MY CHILD!” Aurelia cried, her voice cracking as tears poured from her eyes. She hovered forward in a rush, her breath hitching with every word. “MY GOODNESS! CINDERELLA, MY SWEET CHILD! MY GOD… OH, THANK THE HEAVENS!”
She fell to her knees in front of her daughter, sobbing openly, covering her face with trembling hands. Her voice broke again and again, raw with love and desperation.
“HUUUU!! HUUUUU!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU… FOR SAVING MY CHILD!!”
Everyone in the grove watched in silence, smiles softening their faces at the mother’s overwhelming relief.
But Ryo’s smile faltered when he noticed Cinderella’s expression. She looked lost—confused. It was as if she couldn’t see the woman before her.
He remembered Aurelia once mentioning how Cinderella used to visit her grave, speaking to her, yet never seeing the ghost that hovered there.
Ryo leaned closer to Fairy Greatmother, whispering. “Ma’am, how come everyone here can see Aurelia… except Cinderella?”
Fairy Greatmother folded one arm across her chest, her finger tapping lightly against her temple.
“Only fairies and certain animals can see ghosts, my dear.”
Ryo blinked. “Wait a minute…” He pointed at himself. “Then how come I can see Aurelia?”
Fairy Greatmother tilted her head, curious. “Now that you mention it… Mr. Detective, has any spirit ever possessed you before?”
Ryo’s eyes widened. “Eh…?”
Fairy Greatmother spoke calmly, her words edged with quiet weight.
“If a spirit has once possessed a human, or if that human has crossed paths and truly interacted with a spirit… then sometimes, they gain the sight to see what others cannot.”
She glanced back at Aurelia, her voice softening. “Even I was shocked that you could see her the day we first met her.”
And then—Ryo remembered.
The Crimson Ancient Reaper.
Mr. Grim… who had once invaded his dreams, forcing him through a movie-hopping marathon. First came Mr. Grim’s own life in Ancient Egypt, where he suffered before becoming a reaper. Then followed a dark-history reel about the kingdom of Al-Qamar, long before it became Al-Munira… and in it, the villain Malakar played his part.
“Ahh…” Ryo realized, then muttered, sarcasm so dry it could start a desert, “yeah… a ghost with a shrinking, fading voice once dragged me into an 8D cinema in my brain when I was on the verge of death. Totally normal stuff—one moment I’m in Ancient Egypt, the next in some old version of a hidden land I once visited for a case. The ghost even gave me free VIP tickets with unlimited refills. Full historic tour, bonus nightmare fuel, jump scares included. Honestly? Ten out of ten. Wouldn’t recommend. But hey—at least he didn’t charge me my soul for popcorn.”
Fairy Greatmother turned her head slowly to him, blinking, baffled at every foreign earthling word.
Then Cinderella stepped forward.
Aurelia lowered her trembling hands from her tear-stained face. She stopped sobbing, a hopeful smile breaking through as she stretched out her arms, yearning for an embrace.
But Cinderella only walked straight through her, her ghostly form untouched, and instead approached Ryo.
Aurelia’s smile shattered into sorrow. She had always dreamed of holding Cinderella again—the last time she embraced her child was when she was only a baby, nineteen long years ago. Nineteen years without feeling her warmth.
Now that her daughter had been saved, Aurelia’s heart burned with a single desire: to live again. To take back the years lost, to spend the moments stolen. To walk beside her daughter not as a whisper of memory, but as a mother in flesh and blood.
Yet she knew revival was absurd—fantastical, impossible. Fairy Greatmother could not grant such a miracle. And so Aurelia’s wish swelled painfully in her chest, caught between desperate hope and the crushing weight of impossibility.
Cinderella turned to the grave, her voice soft with longing. “Strange foreign man… I appreciate that you brought me here to my mother’s grave.” She smiled faintly at the tombstone. “I truly do miss her. Sometimes… I just wish I could see her. Hug her. And I know this is silly, but… I want to live alongside her… even though I don’t know her well.”
Aurelia gasped, then spun around, her voice breaking. “ME TOO, MY CHILD! Me too… I want to live and care for you… to watch you grow, to walk beside you… to live together as mother and daughter…”
She clutched her chest, her voice trembling. “There is warmth in me still… perhaps a chance… but—” her gaze fell to the grass, whispered low, “but I do not know if it is possible…”
Still, Cinderella could not hear her.
Fairy Greatmother watched Aurelia, sensing the desperation in her—the longing to live alongside her daughter once more. She understood Aurelia’s feelings, for she too had a granddaughter, Thalirea, who had now renamed herself Carabosse and turned to evil.
Fairy Greatmother truly wished she could live alongside Thalirea again, but for now, she had to step back, hoping Thalirea would reflect on herself.
Everything now rested on her daughter Vesmyra, who had adopted Thalirea when she was just a child. Would Vesmyra abandon her completely, leave her temporarily, or choose another path?
But thinking about Thalirea’s fall was not the time. Fairy Greatmother’s focus was on helping Aurelia, seeking a way to revive her, even if it seemed nearly impossible.
Ryo, having quietly watched the scene, finally spoke. “Cinderella… do you want to live alongside your real mother as well? From this moment onward?”
“Eh?!” Everyone froze, all eyes snapping toward him.
Vesmyra frowned. “But… isn’t that impossible?”
“Exactly,” Cinderella said gently. “While I do wish it could be… there’s no way my mother could be brought back to life.”
Fairy Greatmother tilted her head at him. “What are you on about, Mr. Detective? Shouldn’t I first study the magical phenomenon tied to her grave?”
Cinderella blinked, startled. “Fairy Greatmother… what do you mean by that?!”
Ryo exhaled, rubbing his temple, then glanced at Aurelia. “Madam Aurelia. You want the revival trope or not? What I mean is… do you wish to come back from the dead?”
Aurelia flinched.
Cinderella’s breath caught. “Are you… talking to my mother?” Her head whipped back and forth in confusion. “But where? She should be buried beneath her grave?!”
Aurelia’s lips trembled. She clenched her fists, her teeth, her very soul, no longer able to contain the flood inside her. She surged forward, hovering straight to Ryo, her voice breaking like thunder and tears.
“YES! Yes—I want to live again! To walk this world as a mother, not a ghost! To embrace my daughter, to hear her call me ‘Mama’ with her own voice, while I hold her with my own arms! I want to stay by her side, not just in whispers, not just in memory—BUT IN LIFE! To cook for her, guide her, laugh with her, cry with her… to give her the love I was robbed of for nineteen years! I want to live, live and never let her go again!”
Her words rang with desperation.
Ryo smiled faintly, nodding. “Then let’s make the impossible… possible. Right here, right now.”
Everyone stared, stunned. Aurelia began to whimper, clinging to hope—praying that what she longed for was not just a dream, but a wish that could finally come true.
Fairy Greatmother scratched her head, about to question. “Mr. Detective, what ar—”
But before she could finish, Ryo leaned toward Fairy Greatmother and whispered everything—how the impossible could be made possible—and mentioned the Fairy Godmother’s Rebirth grimoire.
Fairy Greatmother gasped. She remembered that the grimoire could turn someone who was ‘on the verge of death—or not completely dead’—into a Fairy Godmother, just like the first ruler of Lunaveth.
In Aurelia’s case… she wasn’t completely dead. She could still feel warmth in her chest.
Fairy Greatmother turned to Cinderella with sudden purpose.
She raised her wand, smiling. “Cinderella, let’s get you all cleaned up… before you can embrace your mother.”
Cinderella’s eyes widened. “Eh? But—”
Fairy Greatmother twirled her wand over Cinderella, and golden glitter danced around her. Cinderella’s gray gown shimmered and transformed into comfortable, everyday casual wear. The soot and ash on her skin vanished as well.
She looked fresh, neat, and tidy.
Then Ryo ordered Barkface and Barkzilla to dig Aurelia’s grave.
The two canines saluted and approached the grave—but before they could begin, Cinderella panicked.
“Wait! Peanuts!” she shouted.
Barkface perked up and turned around.
“And you too, Cuddles!” she added. Barkzilla also stopped, tilting his head in confusion.
Both canines looked puzzled by the sudden mission abort.
Ryo raised a brow. “What’s wrong?”
Cinderella folded her hands, worry etched on her face. “Are you really sure about this? Digging my mother’s grave… is my mother really around here? Do you really see her? Is she really beside me?”
Ryo rolled his eyes and thought. “Really…? This trope… when the character suddenly interferes with something important and drags it out with a ridiculously long emotional speech just to stop me from digging up a body for the long-awaited revival trope. NOPE! No time for that nonsense.”
He turned to the ghostly Aurelia, gave her a smug grin, and gave her a confident thumbs-up.
Aurelia blinked, confused by his gesture.
Ryo’s expression turned serious. “Continue, my agents. The revival trope must happen without delay.”
The two canines’ eyes sparkled with excitement. With renewed purpose, they dove into the grave, digging fast and deep.
“EEEEHHHH!!!” Cinderella blurted. This was the first time her animal companions had ignored her.
Minutes passed. They dug down six feet, until suddenly, tap!
The canines hit something solid and stopped. Barkzilla brushed the soil away with his paws—and there it was: a glass coffin.
Everyone peered into the grave, their eyes widening.
Ryo whispered, awe-struck. “Woah… is that the glass coffin from Snow White?!”
It was true. As Rosalind had mentioned before, Aurelia had been buried in a glass coffin.
Aurelia hovered nervously, fear tightening her ghostly chest. She closed her eyes and covered her face with both hands, unable to look at her own body.
Fairy Greatmother flicked her wand. Slowly, the glass coffin levitated, lifted from the grave, and gently landed on the grass. The canines leapt off the coffin as it settled.
Dust covered the surface of the coffin. Aurelia’s ghost hovered closer, trembling, peeking nervously through her fingers.
Ryo took a cloth and a bottle of water from his bag, poured some water onto the cloth, and began wiping the glass coffin—revealing the head first.
Cinderella gasped.
There she was… Aurelia’s face finally visible. It had not rotted, as Rosalind had told from her story. She had not aged in nineteen years, her youth perfectly preserved.
It was like looking at a slightly older version of Cinderella herself—both ghostly and physical Aurelia shared the same face, the same gentle, familiar features.
Then Ryo slowly opened the coffin. The world seemed to hold its breath as everyone gazed at Aurelia’s body in full.
Cinderella dropped to her knees, crawling toward her mother, tears streaming freely.
“Mama… MAMAAAA!” she sobbed, pressing her palms and face against her mother’s chest. “I… I wanted to meet you… I wanted to walk with you, laugh with you, play with you… cook with you… have meals with you… just… just be with you, Mama! I’ve dreamed of this every day for so long!”
The ghostly Aurelia hovered close, her ethereal arms wrapping around Cinderella’s back. Though she could not fully touch her daughter, she mimicked the embrace as best she could.
“My child… my beloved child… I wanted to do the same, to hold you close, hear you laugh, feel your warmth, never leave your side… I have longed to be with you, to live for you, to watch you grow… I’ve waited for this moment my whole existence!” Aurelia’s voice trembled, desperation and love spilling into every word.
Fairy Greatmother and Vesmyra’s eyes glistened with tears at the sight. The animals watched silently, their eyes soft with emotion.
Vesmyra gently leaned in, placing a comforting hand on Cinderella’s shoulder.
Ryo examined the linen wrapped around Aurelia’s neck—it was weathered, frayed by time. The burial gown was similarly worn. Yet her body remained untouched by age, youthful and perfect.
Carefully, Ryo unwrapped the linen from her neck. The slash wound inflicted by Edmund nineteen years ago was gone, healed as if it had never existed.
He paused, wondering what had caused Aurelia to feel warmth in her chest. Of course, he knew the glass coffin held some kind of magic crafted by the dwarfs. But even now, after Fairy Greatmother had thoroughly examined it, she still couldn’t explain it—the magic of this glass coffin was too mysterious.
Ryo then politely asked Cinderella to move aside. She obeyed, sniffling and wiping her tears.
Ryo turned to the ghostly Aurelia. “Madam… would it be alright if I checked your… uhh… chest? I’ve done this before, back in my police days… autopsies. I’ll be careful. May I?”
Aurelia blushed furiously, and reluctantly nodded. She would allow anything if it meant a chance at revival.
Ryo gently slipped his hand beneath the chest area of her burial gown, covering it with a cloth with his other hand to maintain her modesty.
The ghostly Aurelia squealed, embarrassed.
He pressed carefully, feeling for anything—the warmth she had always felt as a ghost.
Then, ba-dum… ba-dum…
Ryo gasped. Not only did he feel a faint warmth, but also a heartbeat. Weak, trembling, but undeniably alive.
Everyone watched his reaction, curious.
Ryo then checked her wrist—weak pulse. He moved to her nose and mouth, placing his ear near them.
A faint breath escaped her mouth, inhalation through her nose. Weak, shallow, but unmistakably life.
It was as Fairy Greatmother had said: Aurelia was more like asleep.
This was strange for Fairy Greatmother as well—she swore she hadn’t felt a heartbeat or breath when she examined Aurelia’s grave the first time. So what kind of magic lay within that glass coffin that kept her from detecting life?
Ryo’s eyes scanned her body, then the ghostly Aurelia beside him.
A question formed in his mind, tinged with awe and disbelief. “Is she really… fully a ghost?”
But that’s when Ryo remembered—back in his geeky, internet-obsessed childhood days, he had once read about spirit projection, a phenomenon where a person’s spirit or consciousness temporarily leaves their physical body, while the body remains alive but often unconscious or unresponsive.
That… that could explain Aurelia’s current state.
Ryo straightened, turning to Fairy Greatmother. “Ma’am, you may proceed.”
Fairy Greatmother smiled warmly and nodded. “Very well, my dear.”
Aurelia’s breath caught, a hopeful gleam spreading across her face. “Eh?! Is it really happening?!”
Even Cinderella whispered, wide-eyed. “Could it be…?”
With a graceful flick of her wand, Fairy Greatmother summoned the ‘Fairy Godmother’s Rebirth’ grimoire, floating mid-air.
She opened it to a precise page, the title shining in gold, ancient letters: “The Birth of the Fairy Godmother.”
Fairy Greatmother instructed everyone to step back, leaving her alone by Aurelia’s body.
“Hover above your body, Aurelia,” she said softly, and Aurelia obediently rose, hands folded over her chest, casting a tender glance at her daughter with a soft smile before closing her eyes.
Then Fairy Greatmother began chanting the revival spell, her voice steady, melodic, and imbued with magic that made the very air shimmer.
“Hush, O night, and still, O land,
Bear witness now to a wondrous birth.
From mortal rest where silence lay,
A brighter path shall rise today.
By gentle heart and selfless hand,
By unseen grace through mortal span,
Her spirit pure shall rise above,
Crowned by mercy, bound by love.
No longer bound by time’s decay,
But light eternal to guide the way.
By star’s decree and moonbeam’s art,
A guardian wakes with timeless heart.
O kindred soul, take up thy flame,
Thy gentle will, thy hallowed name.
Not death, but change, thy fate shall be—
A Fairy Godmother, eternally free.
So rise, O spirit, in glory untold,
Bathed in white, crowned in gold.
Let all the heavens proclaim her worth,
The Godmother born, a light to land.
And let the world in wonder see—
The birth of magic’s destiny.”
Aurelia’s body shimmered in pure white, rising gently into the air while still lying flat on her back. White, radiant wind spiraled around her, twisting and dancing like a living aura.
Her ghostly form opened her eyes, voice barely more than a whisper carried on the wind.
“Cinderella… my child… I love you… and I always have… even after nineteen long years.”
Cinderella’s breath caught. She could finally hear her.
Suddenly, Aurelia’s ghostly form shimmered brighter, turning a pure, glowing white. Cinderella gasped—she could finally see her mother’s ethereal presence.
“Mama… is that… you?” Cinderella whispered, voice trembling.
Aurelia smiled softly, eyes shining. “Yes, my child. You can finally see me… I’m here.”
Cinderella’s lips quivered as tears welled up.
Aurelia’s ghostly form began to dissolve into luminous particles, drifting gently toward her physical body.
HHHHHHMMMMMMM… FWWWWOOOOOOOMMMM!… WHHHHHOOOOOOOOSSSHHHH!
Aurelia’s body erupted in radiant white light. A magical wind swirled around her, twisting into a glowing vortex.
Slowly, a white robe formed around her, flowing elegantly. A golden crown settled upon her head. Her body straightened, regal and alive.
A snowflake-tipped wand materialized in her right hand. She drifted down, landing softly on the grass. The glow around her gradually faded, leaving her luminous and fully present.
Aurelia slowly opened her eyes and blinked rapidly, her vision slowly coming into focus. She touched her arms, her body, her face, her chest… and gasped, whispering in awe.
“Am I… really… alive?”
Fairy Greatmother gently tapped her back. “Yes, Aurelia, my dear… you are.”
Ryo crossed his arms, whistling with genuine awe. “Woah! Never have I ever… seen a real-life revival trope actually happen in front of me. And I’ve seen some weird stuff in my life.”
Cinderella couldn’t contain herself. “MAMA!” she shouted, running forward, arms wide.
“MY CHILD!” Aurelia cried, arms mirroring her daughter’s, rushing into a warm embrace. Aurelia’s hands brushed Cinderella’s hair, holding her close.
Aurelia’s voice cracked, overflowing with joy and relief.
“OH, MY SWEET CHILD! It’s been so long… far too long… since I’ve felt your warmth, Cinderella! I never imagined I’d be able to hold you like this again!”
Cinderella’s heart swelled, voice trembling with happiness.
“ME TOO, MAMA! Even though I was just a baby when we were separated, I always felt… something missing… a warmth I didn’t understand… and now I know it was you, my real mother, all along!”
They sank to their knees on the grass, sobbing freely, tears streaming without restraint. Aurelia then pulled back and held her hands on both Cinderellas cheeks, and hugged her child again.
Ryo, hands in his pockets, smiled quietly.
Vesmyra and Fairy Greatmother’s eyes glistened with happy tears, silently witnessing the long-awaited reunion.
Even the animal agents sniffled, moved by the heartfelt scene.
The footman and coachman, pride in their posture, handed out handkerchiefs generously, as if honoring the sacredness of this moment, and then, after serving their purpose, they disappeared—along with the unicorn and banana carriage.
The grove echoed with cries of joy, love, and reunion—mother and daughter finally, miraculously together again.
Ryo gave them the time they needed, quietly stepping back as they cried their hearts out. Ten long minutes passed before the tears subsided, and Aurelia and Cinderella finally rose to their feet, wiping away the last tears of joy from their eyes.
Aurelia turned to Ryo and Fairy Greatmother, gratitude shining in her expression. She thanked them deeply—for rescuing her child from captivity, for reuniting them, and even for granting her the impossible gift of revival. Fairy Greatmother gently reminded her that none of it would have been possible without Ryo’s perceptive eyes, sharp mind, and relentless will; even she would not have realized Aurelia could be revived if he hadn’t mentioned the Fairy Godmother’s Rebirth grimoire.
Ryo only scratched the back of his head, replying modestly that it was nothing—that he was only doing his job as a detective. Though, he admitted with a crooked grin, he never expected to be wrapped up in the revival trope of the mother of the world’s most famous protagonist.
Cinderella tilted her head at that, puzzled, and asked him directly why he kept calling her a “protagonist.”
But Ryo didn’t answer. Instead, he suddenly took out his notebook and pen from his coat pocket, flipping to a blank page. He held it out to Cinderella with surprising seriousness and asked for her autograph.
The young woman blinked, entirely confused, and asked what an “autograph” even was.
Ryo explained with pride that it was something he intended to frame and display in his office—a treasured keepsake. More than that, he joked that it would make a certain rat from the “Rodents Cheddar Kingdom” burn with jealousy, because he had met the real-life Cinderella before that rat ever could.
Still baffled, Cinderella took the notebook and pen, asking what exactly she should write. Ryo instructed her plainly: just her signature, along with a message that read, “I met Ryo Kuroda, the strange foreign man from Japan, and he is a wonderful detective.”
Cinderella stared at him for a long moment, even more confused than before, but eventually resigned herself to his odd request. She wrote down her signature and the message just as he asked, then returned the notebook to him.
Ryo’s eyes lit up instantly, sparkling with boyish triumph as he clutched the notebook to his chest. He swore silently that he would cherish this autograph and message forever—that he would display it proudly on the front desk of his office for all future clients and visitors to see, and even brag about it at every chance.
Of course, what he didn’t yet realize was that many people back on Earth would never believe him.
And Aurelia, watching the scene, couldn’t help but smile. She was proud—proud of the impact her daughter had, even in this strange “Rodents Cheddar Kingdom” Ryo spoke of. Though she only half believed in his outrageous words, the way he said it with such conviction almost made her want to believe it entirely.
Then Aurelia asked her daughter. “My child, do you have a wish?”
“A wish?” Cinderella tilted her head. “What do you mean by that, Mama?”
“Has there ever been something in your life that made things difficult… something you wished you could remove, so your burdens would be lighter?” Aurelia asked gently.
“But why would you ask me that, Mama?” Cinderella wondered.
Aurelia smiled softly. “Because now that I have returned, I carry the role of the Fairy Godmother. I hold the power to grant wishes—sometimes small, sometimes great. And if it eases your heart, I shall grant yours.”
Fairy Greatmother nodded in confirmation, her tone calm but assured.
“It is true, Cinderella, my dear. Your mother’s gift is now similar to mine. As once I dressed you in a golden gown on the night of your first royal ball, so too can she reshape your life with grace.”
Cinderella lowered her eyes to the grass, in deep thought, then lifted her gaze back to her mother.
“I wish… for my ice powers to be gone forever.”
Ryo blinked. “Oh? So you’re saying you wanna be fully human?”
Cinderella gave a faint smile. “Why yes. I want to live my life without fear—without worrying that my ice powers will spiral out of control every time I fall into despair. It’s been such a burden.”
Her voice softened, almost apologetic as she turned to Aurelia. “I’m sorry, Mama. I know you’re not human, and I carry your blood. That’s why this power rests in me. So… it may sound cruel to say I don’t want it anymore, but…” She clutched her skirt tightly, voice trembling. “Is it too much to wish for that?”
Aurelia did not hesitate. She slowly shook her head, smiling. “No, my precious child.” She placed a tender hand upon her daughter’s shoulder. “All I have ever wanted is for you to live free… to know warmth instead of chains. Even I once struggled with these powers when I was young. They raged out of my control, hurting those around me, until my old kingdom feared me and cast me into exile. I know how heavy that burden is. And so, I shall grant your wish. Gladly. For no gift is greater to me than your freedom.”
“Mama…” Cinderella whispered, her eyes brimming. She threw her arms around Aurelia, holding her tightly, gratitude flooding her heart. Aurelia embraced her back, relieved she could finally do something—something truly motherly—for her daughter, even if it was in a magical way.
Then, Aurelia stepped back, raising her snowflake-tipped wand. With a graceful twirl, frost-like glitter spiraled around Cinderella.
Cinderella’s body shimmered faintly in light blue. A sky-colored orb of ice emerged from her chest, pulsing once before it cracked and shattered into stardust that dissolved into the wind. The glow around her body slowly faded.
“How do you feel, my dear?” Fairy Greatmother asked softly.
Cinderella lifted her hand, rubbing her palm. That familiar coldness was gone. She tested it, letting her mind dip into sorrow—but no frost, no chill, no uncontrolled magic burst forth.
Her breath caught. “It’s gone… I feel… warmer.” Her eyes widened, her smile bursting with light. She turned to her animal friends, shouting with joy, “Everyone! I feel warmer!”
The animal agents cheered in their voices and rushed to her, toppling her into the grass. She laughed freely, her joy ringing brighter than ever.
“Coo cooo!” McPecker cooed, louder than usual.
“MEW!” Whiskers cried, rubbing his head against her chin.
Cinderella giggled, rubbing McPecker’s head. “Thank you, Muffin.” Then she snuggled her cheek against Whiskers. “And thank you too, Honeybun.”
Cinderella was no longer half-Frostreaver. She was simply… human. A normal, happy girl.
She no longer needed the Glass Slippers to contain her powers, since her icy abilities were gone. She handed the slippers to her mother, who made them vanish with her wand. Fairy Greatmother then gave Cinderella a pair of ordinary boots to wear.
Ryo, watching with his hands in his pockets, muttered under his breath.
“Ah, happy endings… the good stuff. Hope those critics who thrive on heartbreak take notes instead of writing angry essays online.”
He muttered again, smirking to himself. “And maybe next time, they won’t flip their tables so hard they break the legs.”
The moment Ryo said that…
Everyone on earth felt it—an invisible finger pointing, mocking, daring them to object. The world erupted into total, unrestrained chaos. Tables flew through the air like guided missiles, chairs spun across rooms, and desks vaulted over office walls. Pens, papers, coffee mugs, and laptops became airborne weapons in the great furniture war. People shoved each other, tripped spectacularly over their own feet, and wildly gestured at invisible insults. Some collapsed dramatically onto the floor, clutching their chests as if the universe had personally insulted them, while others flung chairs with the strength of seasoned athletes.
One particularly ambitious table rocketed straight into the stratosphere, spinning past planes, jets, and even a launched rocket, nearly escaping Earth’s atmosphere. Onlookers below gaped in awe and terror, unsure whether to scream or salute the flying furniture.
Meanwhile, another unlucky table—launched with equally insane force—isekai’d itself into a cliched fantasy world, smacking the heroic protagonist squarely on the head. He collapsed unconscious while his harem stood nearby, panicked and tearful, unsure how to revive their fallen hero.
But the chaos didn’t stop there: yet another table was flung into the same world, hitting the demon lord squarely on the head and killing it instantly. The heroes’ prophecy to save the world was rendered pointless, leaving the goddess who had summoned him utterly stunned, her role seemingly meaningless—all because a single, ordinary table had saved the world instead.
Back on Earth, the table-flipping frenzy continued relentless. People slammed, kicked, and hurled furniture in perfect, chaotic synchrony. Coffee spilled everywhere, papers rained down like confetti, and some tables ricocheted off walls, hitting unsuspecting coworkers.
Entire offices, classrooms, and homes became arenas of absurd human fury, each act of over-the-top outrage feeding into the next. Every person on Earth seemed simultaneously furious, helpless, and wildly theatrical—utterly undone by Ryo’s comment, which they weren’t aware of but could feel.
By the time the dust settled—or at least slowed—millions of tables had been flipped, thrown, or launched into orbit, and civilization collectively realized: nobody had been safe from the chaos unleashed by a single casual line.
Back in Evendelle…
Above the village square, two figures floated high, looking down at the village. They were positioned a little apart from each other.
It was Carabosse and Petyr Pann.
Carabosse, her fan close to her mouth, glanced to the side and asked. “Little boy… what is with that awful dress and hat you are wearing?”
Petyr Pann sighed, feeling hurt. “Your Grace… this pirate outfit’s cool. The hat and eye patch—I stole them all from Captain Hook’s ship.” He pouted, arms crossed. “Kinda hurts when you call it ugly. I picked the best ones.”
Petyr Pann continued, “And besides, I want to look more fashionable for this moment… the most hyped-up moment when we unleash the Vrakuls upon Evendelle.” He backflipped while floating and cheered loudly, fist punching the sky. “YEEEEHHAAAWW!!!!”
Back in the grove…
Ryo’s eyes widened, his face darkening. He heard the echoing cheer, and it even reached the grove where his group was. That cheer gave him a bad feeling—it sounded way too familiar.
Ryo immediately told Fairy Greatmother that they should all return to the village immediately. Petyr Pann and Carabosse were probably there, continuing their chaos. Everyone in the grove gasped and agreed.
Aurelia said that she would teleport everyone to the village square using her newly acquired Fairy Godmother power. She lifted her snowflake-tipped wand and cast the teleportation spell. The ground beneath them all lit up, and a white magic circle appeared. In the next instant, everyone vanished, and they were teleported to the village square.
Everyone in Ryo’s group then gazed up and saw the two villains.
Petyr Pann perked up as he saw Ryo’s group and waved down. “Hey detective! Nice to see you again,” he grinned. “Maaaan, the old lady and the pets sure gave me a blow to the head earlier.”
Vesmyra, offended, pointed sharply. “DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME AN OLD LADY AGAIN, YOU FOOLISH CHILD!”
Petyr Pann put his hands on his cheeks, pretending to be horrified. “OH NO! The ‘getting hit because I called her an old lady’ trope is about to happen again!”
Ryo’s face darkened, serious. “Okay, kid… enough with calling out the clichés. What are you two up to this time? I’m not here to work overtime—I just finished my detective job in this world, finding Cinderella,” he gestured to her. “Look, the protagonist, safe and sound.” He clenched his fist, annoyed, eyes twitching. “So can you both give up and leave?” Then, sounding bitter, he added, “Or I’ll charge you both extra on ma’am’s behalf!”
Carabosse’s lips curled into a sly smile. “We won’t do that. With the black shards gone, I can’t rule Evendelle by force anymore — so I’ll obliterate it instead.”
“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWW,” Ryo said, baffled. “Not the type to give up just because you feel bitter over losing, huh? HOW ORIGINAL!” He whipped out his gun and aimed at them. “In that case… let’s end this here before you bastards cause any more trouble in this kingdom. I’m not really in the mood to drag out fights.”
Petyr Pann smirked sinisterly. “Okay detective… but we’re not the only ones you’re gonna face in a shounen battle.”
Ryo’s voice dropped low, cautious. “What the hell are you on about, kid?”
Petyr Pann reached into his pocket and pulled out an object.
Ryo’s eyes slowly widened in horror. He knew that object too well—from his previous case in Al-Munira.
{The Celestial Compass}
Ryo’s breath caught. He remembered the compass was thrown into the ‘Gate of Malevolent Spirit’ back in the black pyramid, thanks to Amina and Aladdin’s help. The black pyramid itself had even sunk into the sand, along with the gate, to prevent anyone foolish enough from finding it again. Mr. Grim had made sure of that.
So why… why is the Celestial Compass with Petyr Pann now? And in this fairytale world? Despite already being sunk into the hidden lands of Al-Munira back on Earth?
Ryo shouted, furious. “WHY THE F**K DO YOU HAVE THAT WITH YOU?!”
Petyr Pann then raised the compass, about to chant.
Ryo gasped and aimed his gun squarely at Petyr Pann before he could speak. If he chanted, the Vrakuls would be unleashed like before.
But then Ryo froze. What Petyr Pann started chanting left him baffled and stunned.
Petyr Pann began. “YO GATE OF MALEVOLENT SPIRITS — I’M UNLOCKING Y’ALL. GO OFF, BREAK STUFF, THROW SHADE, SPREAD CHAOS, TREND ON MORTALS, AND MAKE IT VIRAL. NO CAP. #ChaosMode #VillainVibes #WreckItTime #MainCharacterEnergy #EpicAF #MoodForever #BigBrainEvil #IDontDoChill #CosmicDrama #UnleashTheSpirits #AbsoluteMadness #PeakVillain #SendIt #ApocalypseReady #LOLFrFr!”
Ryo’s group just stared at Petyr Pann, completely speechless at the absurdity of the chant.
Petyr Pann blinked, lowered his hand, and stared at the compass. “Huh? Why is it not working? I swear I was able to release some Vrakuls last time.”
Carabosse glared at him and threw her fan. SMACK! It hit him square on the head.
“OUCH!” Petyr clutched his head in pain.
Carabosse shouted. “WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU CHANTING, YOU STUPID LITTLE BOY!!!”
Petyr Pann panicked, fumbling. “B-b-but your grace! It worked last time!”
“THAT’S THE WRONG CHANT, YOU MONGREL!” Carabosse snapped.
“Oh! Right! Hahaha…” Petyr Pann laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.
Then Petyr Pann raised his hand and began chanting again.
Ryo aimed and shouted. “EVERYONE! TAKE HIM DOWN BEFORE HE FINISHES THE CHANT!”
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Aurelia told the animals to take care of Cinderella, and then she quickly teleported her daughter and the animals back to the grove, ensuring they would be safe from the chaos.
Vesmyra, Aurelia, and Fairy Greatmother began unleashing attack spells at Petyr Pann, but he dodged them effortlessly. Carabosse even cast defensive spells to protect him from the attacks.
While dodging, Petyr Pann chanted correctly this time.
“OH, GATE OF MALEVOLENT SPIRITS, I HEREBY UNLOCK YOU AND RELEASE YOU FROM YOUR RESTRAINTS!”
The Celestial Compass began glowing, pulsing with a sinister purple-black light.
Ryo gritted his teeth. “SH*T!”
Suddenly, a tall black monolith of a gate appeared, hovering in the air between the villains. Ryo’s eyes widened in horror—the same gate from the black pyramid in Al-Munira. It pushed open wide.
This time, no burst of purple or black light poured out, but a deafening ROOOOAAAR shook the air.
A giant horned Vrakul head slowly emerged from the gate. Ryo recognized it immediately—it was the same Vrakul he had once kicked in the face when he gained the Crimson Gunslinger power from Mr. Grim.
Fairy Greatmother and Vesmyra stared in horror, remembering this gate—the void that had pulled in Thalirea fifteen years ago, before she became Carabosse.
The giant horned Vrakul turned its head toward Ryo, full of hate, pointing at him with its massive arm, and roared.
Petyr Pann smirked. “OF COURSE, BOSS!”
He dashed downward, drew his dagger. “Ready for a shounen battle of our own, detective?” Petyr slashed at him excitedly.
Ryo quickly put away his gun, slid both tonfas from his sleeves, and raised them in defense. CLANG! He was pushed back, skidding across the ground, resisting Petyr’s impact.
Petyr continued slashing while laughing. Ryo hit back with his tonfas, but Petyr dodged, keeping the melee going. Ryo’s palm was slightly cut, bleeding, while Petyr took a hit to the face from a tonfa. They exchanged blow after blow.
While fighting, Ryo remembered back in the ballroom that Carabosse had told him they received orders to kill him. Perhaps the horned Vrakul was the one who gave those orders, furious because Ryo had once sent it flying back into the gate with a powerful kick in Al-Munira, inside the black pyramid. It was only a guess, but it could very well be true.
Ryo couldn’t do much in his current form; he was just a regular detective, without the Silver Armed Sniper or Crimson Gunslinger powers that once allowed him to fight the Vrakuls easily.
Suddenly, ghostly Vrakuls began flying out of the gate, shrieking, and started destroying rooftops. People sleeping in their homes woke up to the chaos, looked out the windows, and saw the devastation. They quickly fled their homes in panic, escaping the village before they could be harmed. Fairy Greatmother and Vesmyra covered the villagers with defensive spells, ensuring they all got out safely.
Vesmyra, watching her stepdaughter, felt fury and frustration boil like molten fire. She had once taken in Thalirea with love, but now Thalirea had become Carabosse—pure evil and destructive. Her eyes widened violently; something inside her snapped, and her pupils shrank to pinpoints, a storm of wrath burning behind them.
“As of today… Thalirea… you… no… Carabosse,” she whispered through gritted teeth. Then, shouting to the heavens, she yelled, “I HEREBY DISOWN PERMANENTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Fairy Greatmother glanced at Vesmyra. Seeing that her daughter had reached her limit, she knew she could no longer consider Carabosse her granddaughter either.
Glowing with golden light, Fairy Greatmother flew forward and began casting attack spells at the small ghostly Vrakuls, destroying them one by one. Aurelia joined in, helping to eliminate the ghostly Vrakuls.
Vesmyra spread her wings and unleashed deadly attacks at Carabosse.
Carabosse’s grin widened with evil delight. “Good! I never saw you as a mother in the first place.” She counterattacked, and the two clashed in a fierce battle.
Aurelia lowered her wand, breathing heavily, exhausted from the endless attacks. Her eyes caught the giant horned Vrakul, halfway through crawling out of the gate. She couldn’t allow that to happen.
Ever since her revival and gaining the Fairy Godmother powers, Aurelia had also acquired vast knowledge of spells that came with it. Among them was one spell—a spell that could end all this madness. It could completely close the gate and push the giant horned Vrakul back before it fully emerged.
But the spell came at a cost. Using it would strip Aurelia of her Fairy Godmother powers. The overwhelming energy might even cost her life. She didn’t know if she would survive. Yet, for the kingdom of Evendelle—and for her daughter’s chance to live in peace—Aurelia made her choice.
She would cast the spell, no matter the risk.
Aurelia raised her wand, her voice steady but resolute as she began chanting:
“By star and moon, by sun and flame,
I bind thee, spirit, in Heaven’s name.
Chains of light, from dawn to night,
Fetter the beast, restrain its might.
By cosmic will, by eternal hand,
I weave the lock across this land.
Gate of shadow, gate of pain,
Feel the chains, be bound again.
Not death, but change, my power I yield,
To forge a seal no force can wield.
By runes of light and sacred breath,
I cast thee back, O harbinger of death.
Rise no more, nor pierce our plane,
By my sacrifice, thy wrath is chained.
Let all the heavens bear witness today—
The abyss is closed, the dark held at bay.”
Suddenly, giant chains of light erupted into midair, coiling tightly around the giant horned Vrakul’s massive body. Another set of chains spiraled around the gate itself, gradually forcing it to close inward.
The giant horned Vrakul roared in outrage, thrashing and struggling against the glowing bonds.
Carabosse, still locked in combat with Vesmyra, stared in horror. The Gate of Malevolent Spirits she had fought to open was now closing. Her gaze snapped to Aurelia, panic flashing across her face. She clenched her teeth, furious, and raised her wand to stop the spell.
But before Carabosse could cast, Vesmyra lunged forward with precise fury, landing a powerful punch squarely on Carabosse’s face. Carabosse flew backward, crashing into the village square fountain. The impact shattered the fountain completely, leaving a jagged crater where it once stood.
Vesmyra didn’t hesitate. She unleashed a barrage of deadly water spells at Carabosse while the villain lay sprawled on the fountain remains. Her anger burned too intensely to hold back. The betrayal cut too deep.
Vesmyra’s mind raced as she attacked: the way Carabosse—once Thalirea—had acted now, the full extent of her evil deeds, left no room for mercy. Ever since Vesmyra had adopted Thalirea, she had felt a nagging unease. Every moment of apparent innocence, every gesture of obedience—it had all felt like an act, a carefully maintained mask. Vesmyra realized with bitter clarity that Thalirea, now Carabosse, may have been plotting in secret all along, biding her time, waiting until she was older and the perfect opportunity arose to strike. Even the day she was dragged into the void might have been part of that long-conceived plan. Vesmyra still loved her no matter what, but now… this felt more like a betrayal.
The realization fueled Vesmyra’s power. Her attacks struck faster, harder, without pause, as the chains of light around the Vrakul and the gate continued to tighten, bringing the spell closer to its devastating conclusion.
Meanwhile…
While Ryo was still in combat with Petyr Pann…
The villain kept mocking him—pushing him back, calling him weak, and spouting childish insults. Ryo was having a hard time fighting him because Petyr was stubborn and swift; it was like battling a crazy kid spiraling completely out of control.
But then Petyr Pann heard the groaning of the gate closing and the horned Vrakul’s roar as it struggled against the chains of light. His breath caught; he paused the fight with Ryo and turned to look.
Ryo took a step back, thinking. “Oh? The classic ‘pause the fight and turn around because the enemy was distracted by something’ trope? Bad idea, kid.”
He remembered how durable Petyr had been when one of Ryo’s agents struck him from the sky and sent him crashing into the farmland — Petyr had survived that without dying. That told Ryo Petyr’s body could take a lot. Ryo also remembered the human pressure points he’d studied — the ones that could disable a person fast — and a plan formed in his head.
Ryo noticed the Celestial Compass tucked in Petyr Pann’s thigh pocket. Quiet as a shadow, he closed the distance and snatched it.
Petyr felt the emptiness in his pocket and spun around, but it was too late.
With a single hard swing of his tonfa, Ryo struck Petyr’s nape. Petyr’s limbs went floppy; he stumbled.
Ryo muttered. “You should’ve done your homework by watching more cliché battle shounens to piece things together, kid.”
Ryo followed up with a strike to Petyr’s chest core. The body stiffened.
“Because when there’s a distraction,” Ryo muttered, “usually the enemy looks away while the protagonist does all that useless waiting, giving the enemy a chance to take a break for a moment before looking back…”
He hit the middle back nodes. Petyr’s arms and legs seized; he almost fell.
“…but with me? I’m not waiting…” Ryo continued, and drove a strike into Petyr’s throat cluster. Petyr twitched, motions jerky.
“…because when there’s an opening…” Ryo hit the lower belly port; Petyr froze, eyes flickering.
“…I immediately seize the opportunity and strike. I do not do that pathetic ‘waiting for the enemy to look back’ nonsense…” Ryo said as he spun, then struck the shin brace. Petyr’s legs collapsed; he slammed face-first into the ground.
Ryo smirked. “Because… that’s how the protagonist always loses or the fight drags on for multiple episodes.”
Petyr’s vision blurred; the world spun. “SH*T! I need to get out of here!! Gotta get that compass back fast!” he thought.
Even weakened, Petyr could still fly. He can grab the Celestial Compass with his mouth and shot upward.
Ryo held the compass in his hand. “Looking for this, kid?”
Petyr’s eyes widened; he raised his head and shouted. “YO! GIVE IT BACK, DAMN IT!”
“Then come and get it,” Ryo said, and threw the compass high into the air.
Petyr shot after it, Ryo drew his gun and aimed it at the cursed artifact. Time seemed to stretch—his mind racing even as the world slowed. If he shot the compass now, would the gate close completely? Back in Al Munira, both the compass and Malakar had to be thrown through the gate for it to shut.
If he destroyed the compass here, could the gate seal without throwing Petyr or Carabosse inside?
His eyes flicked to Aurelia—the caster forcing the gate closed—then to the giant horned Vrakul being slowly pushed back by the chains of light. Would destroying the compass be enough to finish the job, or would the gate hang open unless the villains were sent through?
And then, he made his decision…
Ryo’s gaze cut back to the artifact, steady and cold. In a near whisper, with a gamer calm voice.
“Zeroing Complete. That cursed compass from hell? Absolute delete incoming. No hacks, no mods, no respawns, no cheat codes can save it. Endgame mode activated — and I’m making sure of it.”
He pulled the trigger five times: BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Petyr was almost on the compass, mouth open — but Ryo’s bullets arrived first. CRACK! The Celestial Compass SHATTERED into shards.
Petyr gasped, choking the word. “NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!”
Near passing out from pain and force, Petyr shot himself above the clouds and lost consciousness mid-flight; eyes rolled back, white.
The colossal horned Vrakul roared, convulsing in agony as the destruction of the compass sent violent shockwaves rippling through its massive body. Its resistance faded; the chains of light tightened. The gate drew shut and dragged the monster back inside. Slowly, the gate vanished into nothing. Fairy Greatmother finished off the last of the ghostly Vrakuls.
Carabosse, still resisting Vesmyra’s deadly attacks, forced herself upward through the sky, snatched Petyr Pann’s unconscious body, and rocketed away into the distance.
With a low, guttural hiss, Carabosse looked back down. “Curse you all… You’ll pay for this.” Then, fixing her glare on Ryo, she screamed, “I SWEAR I’LL DESTROY YOU SOMEDAY, SO-CALLED SHERLOCK HOLMES!!!!”
Ryo spun his gun with a cocky grin and said. “Mission complete. Boss fight won, fairytale kingdom saved — endgame achieved, and I’m the final boss.”
0
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さて、真知子は息子を問い詰める？ それとも気づかないふりを続けてあげるか？
そのほかに外伝も綴りました。
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「ま、まさか!?」
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弟とは凄く仲が良いの！
それはそれはものすごく‥‥‥
「あん、晴仁いきなりそんなのお口に入らないよぉ～♡」
そんな関係のあたしたち。
でもある日トイレであたしはアレが来そうなのになかなか来ないのも気にもせずスカートのファスナーを上げると‥‥‥
「うそっ！ お腹が出て来てる!?」
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そんな還暦女性と二十代の青年の恋模様。
その後、結婚、そして永遠の別れまでを描いたストーリーです。
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