Blood and Steel

by AaronAlvin

Summary:

Subaru has spent the past eight years in Lugunica since arriving as a child, carving out a life in the slums alongside Felt. Despite the harsh conditions, he's worked tirelessly to forge a better future, holding onto dreams of rising above his circumstances. But everything changes when Felt takes on the wrong job, an ill-fated task that sets off a chain of events forged by destiny.

New Chapter Coming: Soon

Chapter 1: Prologue: Lost

Prologue:

Lost

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"This is dumb," Subaru grumbled, slouching in his chair.

"Hush," his mother, Naoko, scolded as she wrapped a red scarf snugly around his neck. "You've been glued to that TV for days now. Going out to the park will do you some good."

"I can do it myself! Jeez, I'm nine! It's not like I need to be babied anymore, Mom," Subaru huffed, tugging at the scarf to adjust it. He was still irritated about missing a few precious hours of winter break. He'd just started playing The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past on his Super Famicom—a game he'd saved months of allowance to buy—and he was determined to beat it before school started again.

"Listen to your mother, Subaru," his father, Kenichi, chimed in as he pulled on his jacket. "Or else I might have to take… drastic measures!" He attempted to make a threatening face, scrunching his eyebrows and puffing out his cheeks.

Subaru and Naoko both turned to him with flat, unimpressed expressions.

"Dad… how do I put this…" Subaru began, his tone dripping with exasperation.

"You can't pull off 'threatening,' sweetie, so just don't try," Naoko finished for him, shaking her head with a small sigh.

"R-really?" Kenichi deflated, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. "Darn, I thought I was getting better at my serious face!"

He burst into a laugh, and despite himself, Subaru's lips twitched upward. Even when he was being ridiculous, his dad's energy was hard to resist.

There was a light snowfall as Subaru ran ahead of his parents as they arrived at the park. There were several kids playing already, he didn't recognize any of them, but that wasn't abnormal. Maybe one of his classmates would show up, not that he had any close friends from school.

"Go on, go play, your mother and I are going to take a quick walk, we won't be far," his father ruffled his hair, "If you have problems, just scream, but not like a girl, that would be shameful!"

"Stop teasing him," his mother rolled her eyes.

"I'm just saying if Subaru wants to be as popular as me one day—"

"Yeah, thanks, Dad," Subaru muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned to head off. But before he could take a step, his mom grabbed him by the collar, stopping him in his tracks.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Naoko asked, her hands firmly on her hips.

"What?" Subaru blinked, then realized. "Oh, right! Love you guys!" he said hastily.

Naoko nodded approvingly. "We love you too. Now go play—and don't leave the playground!"

Subaru watched his parents walk away, hand in hand, chatting softly as they headed off to have some one-on-one time. He sighed. Personally, he'd have been perfectly happy if they'd just left him at home with his Super Famicom instead.

Turning to the playground, Subaru headed for the playset. He paused, hesitating as he saw the other kids already playing. His nerves buzzed with doubt, but he gave himself a mental pep talk. Be like Dad, be like Dad.

Walking over, Subaru approached a trio of boys in the middle of an animated conversation. They stopped talking when they noticed him, their eyes scanning him curiously.

"What do you want?" the stout one asked, his tone direct.

"H-hi," Subaru stammered, scratching the back of his neck. "I wanted to see if you guys wanted to… do something?"

The boys exchanged glances, huddling together and whispering. After a few moments, they broke apart, seeming to come to an agreement.

"Okay," said the lean boy, grinning. "We need a fourth. We're playing Storm the Castle."

"How do you play?" Subaru asked, intrigued.

"It's simple," the lean boy explained. "Two people are up on the playset—they're defending the castle. The other two are down here, storming it with snowballs. If the attackers take the castle, we switch sides."

"Got it," Subaru nodded. "So, who's first?"

"Kenji, why don't you and the new kid team up?" the lean boy said, pointing to the stout one.

"Fine," Kenji huffed. "But if he's bad at the game, I'm playing with you next round, Fuji."

"I'm Subaru, by the way," Subaru said, introducing himself.

"Nice to meet you," the lean boy replied. "I'm Fuji. That's Akio—he doesn't talk much," he added, nodding toward a boy with glasses who stood quietly to the side.

"N-nice to meet you," Akio said softly, giving a shy nod.

Kenji leaned in close to Subaru, lowering his voice. "Don't let him fool you," he whispered with a conspiratorial grin. "He can throw a snowball faster than a speeding bullet!"

Breaking from their planning session, Subaru and Kenji sprinted off to prepare their spirited defense of the "castle." Scooping up handfuls of snow, they crafted a small mound of ammunition near the playset slides. With their defenses ready, they crouched behind the playset, scanning the area like seasoned warriors preparing for battle. Around them, other kids played blissfully, unaware that the greatest battle of their time was about to commence.

Moments later, the call of "Ready!" echoed through the playground. Fuji and Akio came charging in, snowballs clutched in their hands, already hurling projectiles toward the castle. Subaru and Kenji countered with a volley of their own, ducking and tossing snowballs as fast as they could.

"Take that!" Subaru shouted, narrowly missing Fuji as a snowball sailed past him.

"Watch out—Akio's arm is insane!" Kenji warned, just as a perfectly aimed snowball smacked him square in the face.

"They're breaking through!" Kenji shouted, frantically wiping snow off his face.

"No! Akio is coming up the steps!" Subaru called out, pelting a snowball at the advancing boy, only to miss by inches.

"Got you!" Akio declared triumphantly as he reached the top, raising his arms in victory.

It was over. They had lost. Though what the actual rules were, Subaru wasn't entirely sure. No one had explained how to stop the attackers—other than pelting them with snowballs—but none of that mattered. It was exhilarating fun.

"Okay, switch sides," Fuji declared, grinning smugly.

"This way, Subaru!" Kenji said, sliding down the twisty slide in retreat.

Subaru watched Kenji pop out the other side and disappear into the snow. With a shrug, he followed suit, climbing into the slide and pushing himself forward. But as soon as he entered, something felt off.

Everything went pitch black.

The darkness enveloped him completely, the bright winter sun and sounds of the playground vanishing as though they had never existed. Panic gripped Subaru as he slid downward, unable to see or orient himself. Then, with a sudden, jarring thud, he hit solid ground.

Groaning, Subaru blinked against the harsh brightness that assaulted his eyes. He squinted, waiting for his vision to adjust. Slowly, the world around him came into focus.

Cobblestone streets stretched out in every direction, bustling with people dressed in strange, old-fashioned clothes. The air buzzed with the sounds of merchants hawking goods, carts rolling over stone, and voices chattering in unfamiliar accents.

Subaru froze. This wasn't the playground.

Looking around, Subaru felt panic clawing at his chest. This wasn't his hometown. This wasn't Japan. This wasn't anywhere he recognized.

Shakily, Subaru pushed himself to his feet, his wide eyes darting around the bustling street. The sights were both mesmerizing and terrifying. People with vibrant, oddly colored hair passed by in groups. Among them were creatures that defied logic—half-human, half-beast individuals, and fully anthropomorphic animals. Lizard-like beings walked on two legs, wolves chatted with feline-like figures, and other forms Subaru couldn't even identify milled about, blending seamlessly into the crowd.

Subaru's breathing quickened. His chest tightened as panic took hold. "M-Mom!" he cried out, his voice cracking.

He spun in place, scanning the crowd frantically. He searched every face, every corner, his heart hammering in his chest. "Dad! Mom!" he called again, desperation lacing his voice.

Some people in the market turned to glance at him, their expressions ranging from curiosity to mild annoyance. Whispers and murmurs spread among the onlookers, but no one stepped forward to help. Instead, the bustling crowd seemed to close in around him.

"Out of the way, brat!" a gruff voice barked.

Subaru barely had time to react before a pair of wolfmen shoved past him roughly, nearly knocking him over. They didn't even glance back, their growling voices fading into the din of the market.

Stumbling backward, Subaru scrambled to steady himself, his mind reeling. Nothing made sense, but he couldn't afford to stop. Driven by sheer desperation, he broke into a run, his frantic cries echoing through the unfamiliar streets.

"Mom! Dad!" he shouted, his voice growing hoarse. The cobblestones beneath his feet blurred as he raced forward, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. No matter where he looked, his parents were nowhere to be found.

Subaru's legs felt like they were moving on autopilot, carrying him through the bustling chaos of the city. His mind was a haze of fear and confusion, the weight of his situation pressing down on him with crushing intensity. All he wanted—all he needed—was to see his parents' faces. But no matter how far or how fast he ran, they weren't there.

Hours passed as Subaru wandered aimlessly through the unfamiliar streets. His eyes stung from crying, and his legs ached from walking. Eventually, he slumped down on the curb of a road, his back against the cold stone of a building.

Carts rolled by, pulled by lizard-like creatures that hissed and snorted. Under different circumstances, Subaru might have found them fascinating, but here and now, their alien nature only added to the surreal weight of his situation.

I can't find them, he thought miserably. Part of him already knew that searching for his parents in this strange city was futile, but it was all he could think to do. The nagging question of how he'd even gotten here—how sliding down a playground slide had transported him to this place—gnawed at the back of his mind. It doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense.

His stomach growled loudly, pulling him back to the present. Subaru groaned, clutching his midsection. He hadn't eaten since lunch, and his mom had been planning to make pork stew for dinner. The thought of a warm, home-cooked meal made the emptiness in his stomach feel even worse.

Subaru fished through his coat pockets, but all he found was lint. Even if he had a crisp 1,000-yen note tucked away, it wasn't like any of these strange vendors would take his money.

Reluctantly, Subaru pushed himself to his feet. I need help. Strangers in the crowd had proven indifferent, but maybe he'd been looking in the wrong place. If I can't find someone who cares about a lost kid, maybe I can find someone who's paid to.

Scanning the bustling street, his eyes landed on a pair of men in chainmail armor standing at the edge of the market. They carried spears and watched the flow of pedestrians with practiced focus. They looked like guards—maybe the equivalent of police officers in this world.

Swallowing his fear, Subaru steeled himself and made his way through the mass of people toward the armored men. Timing his steps carefully, he slipped through the crowd until he was close enough to speak.

"Excuse me," Subaru said hesitantly, craning his neck to look up at one of the guards. "Can you help me?"

The armored man looked down at Subaru with a flat, disinterested expression. "What do you want, kid?"

"I'm… sort of lost…" Subaru managed to say, his voice trembling slightly.

"Dragon above," the man muttered, rolling his eyes. "Can't you kids just hold onto your mom's skirts or something? Where do you live?"

"Uhh… I live in Sapporo—" Subaru began, fumbling for the right words to explain.

"Sap-or?" The man scoffed, his brow furrowing. "Where in the world is that?"

"It's in Japan—" Subaru tried again, his tone more urgent.

"Jay-pan?" The man cut him off, his voice laced with skepticism. "Are you pulling some kind of prank, kid? I've never heard of Jay-pan."

"It's an island in Asia," Subaru said quickly, desperation creeping into his voice. "Please, I was just—"

"I've heard enough," the man interrupted, his tone now sharp and dismissive. "Quit wasting our time. You're probably some gutter trash. I don't know what scam you're running, but I'm not interested. Now beat it."

Before Subaru could respond, the guard jabbed the butt of his spear into his chest, shoving him backward. Subaru stumbled, barely managing to catch himself, his chest tightening with a mix of fear and humiliation.

Slipping away from the guards, Subaru felt his gut twist with despair. Helplessness gripped him as he wandered aimlessly through the unfamiliar streets. He couldn't read the signs, didn't recognize a single face, and had no idea how to navigate this strange, mythical city. He was utterly stranded, with nothing to his name.

Hours passed as Subaru wandered further into the city. He saw strange comings and goings, glimpsing markets, alleyways, and even bustling courtyards. Yet, no one paid a lost child any mind. Occasionally, he noticed other ragged-looking kids weaving through the crowds. Like him, they were ignored—or worse, shoved aside without a second glance.

Before he knew it, the streets began to empty. Night descended, and with it came a biting chill. The climate wasn't as harsh as back home in Sapporo, but the night air still cut through Subaru's coat, seeping into his skin. Desperate, he tried slipping into an inn. He hoped, foolishly, that someone might take pity on him.

But after the innkeeper discovered he was alone and penniless, Subaru was unceremoniously tossed out into the street. He hit the ground hard, his hands scraping against the cold cobblestones. The door slammed shut behind him, and he was left staring at the dark, empty street.

Disheartened and shivering, Subaru wandered until he found the shadowy underpass of a bridge by a quiet river. It wasn't much, but it offered some shelter from the cold wind. Curling up on the hard ground, Subaru hugged his knees to his chest, trying to conserve what little warmth he had. The ache of hunger gnawed at his stomach as he shivered uncontrollably. Somehow, despite the discomfort, exhaustion finally overtook him, and he drifted into a restless sleep.

His rest was short-lived.

A sudden, sharp pain in his side jolted Subaru awake. Groaning, he clutched at his ribs and looked up, his vision blurry from sleep. Looming over him were two men dressed in chainmail and carrying spears, much like the guards he'd encountered earlier—but they weren't the same pair.

"Clear off, kid," one of the men barked, his voice rough and disdainful. "You should know vagrancy ain't tolerated in this district."

Before Subaru could respond, the butt of the man's spear jabbed into his side again, sending a fresh wave of pain through his body. "I said clear off!" the guard growled, punctuating his command with a harsh kick.

Scrambling to his feet, Subaru gasped, clutching his side as the pain radiated through his body. Without a word, he turned and ran, stumbling as he fled into the dark streets. He didn't dare look back, too terrified to risk facing the guards' wrath again.

This went on for days. Whatever god, magic, or cruel twist of fate had brought Subaru here showed no mercy. He had nothing, and by the third day of wandering, hunger gnawed at him so deeply that he resorted to trying to steal from produce peddlers.

He quickly discovered he was a terrible thief.

Several bruises later—and after narrowly avoiding a cleaver-wielding vendor who threatened to chop off his hand—Subaru abandoned the idea of stealing outright. Instead, he turned to scavenging discarded garbage outside of inns, hoping to find scraps of food. Even this proved harder than expected.

The fancier inns were far too dangerous to approach; their private security was even more brutal than the city guards. When he'd once dared to rifle through a high-end inn's garbage, an arrow whizzed past his ear, embedding itself into the wall behind him with a loud thunk. Subaru didn't wait to see if the next shot would miss.

The less guarded areas weren't much better. Freshly discarded food was in high demand, especially among the street children of the city. Every inn's refuse pile was a battlefield where kids like him scrambled for the slightest morsel. Subaru had wondered if orphanages existed here, but given the sheer number of homeless children roaming the streets, he doubted it.

Life quickly became a vicious cycle of desperation and defeat. Subaru was helpless, battered, and humiliated. His coat was now torn and caked with mud, barely offering any warmth at night. Every evening, he found himself fighting with other kids for scraps of stale bread or bits of moldy fruit. Subaru was at a disadvantage—unlike the other children, he wasn't accustomed to this kind of brutal existence. More often than not, he was left empty-handed.

Eventually, he drifted into the slums, having been driven away from every other corner of the city. The slums, he realized, were where most of the orphans ended up when night fell. The guards didn't patrol there, so there was no risk of being run off. But the lack of authority came with its own dangers. In the shadows, unscrupulous figures lurked, preying on the weak and desperate.

Subaru was learning the hard way just how merciless this world could be.

It had been three weeks since Subaru's arrival in this strange, unforgiving world. He sat huddled under a tree, watching the other kids playing in the distance. Over time, he'd learned that the homeless children in the slums operated in loose gangs. Each gang claimed its territory, but how one joined or even approached these groups was a mystery to him.

As he sat there, Subaru's attention was drawn to a commotion nearby. One of the gangs was harassing a girl—why, he couldn't say.

"You're that giant lover, aren't you?" one of the boys sneered, jabbing a finger in her face.

"Yeah, I bet you could get us into his stash," another added, grinning cruelly. "I hear he's got some good stuff hidden away!"

Subaru's hands clenched into fists as he watched the scene unfold. He knew he should mind his own business—getting involved wouldn't do him any favors, and making enemies here was a surefire way to invite trouble. But despite himself, the scene tugged at him. Be like Dad, he thought, taking a deep breath to steel his nerves.

"Hey," Subaru called out, getting to his feet. "Leave her alone, will you?"

The group turned to face him. The boy in the center, who had greyish-blue hair and a cocky smirk, stepped forward. His eyes narrowed as he looked Subaru up and down. "Oh, I know you. You're that new guy. The one in those weird clothes."

Subaru said nothing, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Shut your fucking mouth, will you?" the boy sneered, striding toward him.

Without thinking, Subaru swung his fist. His punch connected with the older boy's jaw, the impact sending the bully stumbling backward. He fell hard onto the ground, staring up at Subaru in shock.

The other two boys froze, stunned by Subaru's unexpected retaliation. Before they could react, Subaru turned and kicked the largest of the group—a beefy kid—in the groin. The boy doubled over with a groan, clutching himself as he crumpled to the ground.

Not wasting a second, Subaru shoved past the remaining boy and grabbed the arm of the golden-haired girl they'd been harassing. "Let's go!" he said, his voice urgent.

"Hey!" she protested as Subaru dragged her along, but she didn't resist as he sprinted away from the scene, weaving through the maze of the slums.

Stopping once they were well out of sight, Subaru bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. The golden-haired girl crossed her arms, looking more annoyed than grateful.

"That was stupid," she huffed. "You didn't need to step in. I was perfectly fine!"

"They were surrounding you!" Subaru shot back, standing upright and glaring at her. "What was I supposed to do, just stand there and watch them pick on a girl?!"

"They wouldn't dare touch me," she countered, flipping her hair back. "Old Man Rom would kick their asses if they tried!"

"Ungrateful," Subaru muttered under his breath, scowling.

The girl huffed, her expression softening ever so slightly. "I suppose I should be a little grateful," she admitted begrudgingly, "but now you're probably going to get yourself killed."

"K-killed?!" Subaru stammered, his eyes widening.

"You just kicked Gaston in the nuts and punched Rachins in the nose," she said matter-of-factly. "They'll probably put you on a hit list or something. Might even cut your throat while you're sleeping."

"N-no way!" Subaru exclaimed, his stomach twisting at the thought. This is my reward for helping this brat?!

"Mhm," she said with a small shrug. "Well… I've seen you around. You're pretty helpless." She gave him a once-over, her sharp eyes sizing him up. "I feel a tiny bit bad about it, so… how about I pay you back? Old Man Rom is making stew for dinner tonight. I'll let you tag along. As long as you're not scared of a giant."

"A giant?" Subaru repeated, his mind immediately conjuring images of hulking, monstrous creatures straight out of the manga he'd read. "I mean… can't be worse than getting my throat cut while I sleep…"

"Great!" she said, her face breaking into a mischievous grin. "So, what's your name, friend?"

"Subaru," he replied, still catching his breath. "And you?"

"I'm Felt!" she said proudly, as though the name itself carried weight.

Following Felt through the narrow, winding alleys, Subaru soon found himself standing in front of a two-story building with barred windows. It looked weathered and unwelcoming, but Felt approached it casually, as though it were a second home. Without hesitation, she knocked firmly on the door.

"Plug your ears," she ordered, glancing over her shoulder.

Subaru blinked in confusion but complied, covering his ears. Through the muffled sound, he thought he heard her say something about a "fish-hook," which only added to his bewilderment. A moment later, the door creaked open.

Subaru uncovered his ears just in time to see the hulking figure of a man filling the doorway. He was massive, with bronze skin, bushy white eyebrows, and a vivid red tattoo etched across his bald head. His sheer size was enough to leave Subaru staring.

"Who's this?" the giant asked, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder.

"Oh, this is Subaru," Felt said with a dismissive wave. "He helped me out of a fight, so I told him he could have some of that stew you were cooking up! You don't mind, do you, Old Man Rom?"

"H-hi," Subaru managed, lifting a hand in an awkward wave while still gawking at the man's imposing figure.

Rom sighed, the sound heavy with exasperation. "Felt, you can't just go around offering food to every stray you meet." He glanced at Subaru, then shook his head. "Alright. Seeing as you helped Felt, I suppose there's no harm."

Stepping aside, the giant gestured for them to enter. Subaru hesitated for a moment before following Felt inside.

The interior was dimly lit and cluttered, a strange mix of a bar and a storage shop—or what passed for one. Random goods were scattered across tables and shelves, with crates piled haphazardly in corners. The whole place reminded Subaru of a disorganized pawn shop.

"Welcome to the Loot House!" Felt declared with a proud grin.

Rom eyed Subaru critically, his sharp gaze lingering on his dirt-covered face and torn coat. "You look like a mess," he said bluntly, tossing a damp rag at Subaru with surprising precision.

Subaru barely caught it, startled. "Uh… thanks," he muttered before scrubbing at his face. The cool, damp cloth felt refreshing against his skin, washing away layers of grime that had built up over weeks of hardship.

"Sit," Rom instructed, nodding toward one of the mismatched tables. Subaru complied, sinking into a chair as the giant moved to a large hearth. From a bubbling pot, Rom ladled steaming stew into two bowls, the rich aroma filling the room.

Subaru's stomach growled loudly as Rom set a bowl in front of him. The sight of the hearty meal made his mouth water—it was the first hot food he'd seen since arriving in this world. Without hesitation, he grabbed the bowl and began devouring its contents.

"Slow down, kid. There's a whole pot," Rom said lazily, watching him with a raised brow.

"S-sorry," Subaru mumbled, gulping down a mouthful of broth. "I haven't had anything hot since I arrived in this world."

Rom froze briefly, his expression unreadable. Felt, seated across from Subaru, tilted her head curiously. "Arrived?" she asked, her voice sharper now. "What do you mean, 'arrived'?"

"I was in a park not far from my home one moment," Subaru said between spoonfuls of broth, "and the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of this city. Lugunica, right?"

Felt arched an eyebrow skeptically. "What?! You just appeared? Out of nowhere?"

Subaru nodded. "Pretty much."

Rom scratched his head thoughtfully. "I think I've heard about this sort of thing before. Don't know what it's called, exactly, but on rare occasions, people have shown up in Lugunica from faraway lands. Could be you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's rare… but not impossible."

"That's insane!" Felt exclaimed, leaning forward. "Where exactly are you from?"

"I'm from the Hokkaido region in Japan," Subaru replied.

"Never heard of it," Felt said flatly, sitting back in her chair.

"Me either," Rom added, frowning. "But if that's the case, I'm sorry to say it looks like you're stuck here."

Subaru felt his heart sink. He'd suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed hit harder than he expected. "Yeah… I figured," he said with a sigh, his voice heavy with resignation.

Rom studied him for a moment, his expression softening slightly. "Tell you what, kid. I don't care much for most humans. Felt here is one of the few exceptions. But… something about you tells me you wouldn't last long out there on your own. Since you helped Felt out, I suppose I could let you stay in one of the extra rooms upstairs."

Subaru's eyes widened in surprise. A place to stay—warm, dry, and safe. The stew, even if a little bland, was hot. It was more than he could have hoped for. "I-if I wouldn't be a burden, I mean… I'd be willing to help out if you need me to!" he said quickly.

Rom chuckled. "Of course, you'll be put to work. You'll carry your weight here, kid."

"Oh, great. I have a roommate now," Felt huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Subaru. "Fine… but you better be grateful to me!"

Subaru grinned and pulled off his red scarf. Tossing it to her, he said, "There. Consider that my thanks!"

Felt caught the scarf, examining it for a moment before giving it a sniff. "Hmm… it's okay. Needs a wash," she muttered. "Thanks… I guess."

Rom chuckled at the exchange and took Subaru's empty bowl. "Another bowl?" he asked.

"Yes, please!" Subaru said eagerly, his stomach already growling for more.

Chapter 2: ARC 1 - Chapter 1: Blood Money

ARC I

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Chapter I:

Blood Money

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Natsuki Subaru's day was going poorly. The morning had started with him arriving at Conrad's forge, only for the old man to put him straight to work. A large order had come in the night before from the city watch, requesting several crates of spearheads. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem—but they had paid double for a rush job. Apparently, a shipment from another smith had been stolen, and while Subaru suspected an inside tip-off, he knew better than to voice it.

"We've got work to do, son," Conrad had said gruffly. "It'll pay well, but we'll be at it till dusk today and through most of tomorrow. Needs to be done by midday sharp."

The hours that followed were grueling. Subaru hammered steel until his arms felt like lead and worked the bellows until his shirt clung to his sweat-soaked back. By the time Conrad finally called it a day, the sun had long since dipped below the horizon. Though Conrad was a fair boss and paid on time, he didn't tolerate slackers. Subaru found himself worked to the bone almost every day, but at least it was steady employment.

Someday, Subaru dreamed of opening his own smithy. His ambitions stretched far beyond becoming the next Conrad. The old man was skilled, but his work was limited to mundane contracts and nothing more. Subaru wanted more—he wanted to craft items people would talk about, admire, and covet.

On his way home, Subaru stopped by the market. Haggling with his favorite vendors, he managed to talk Kadomon into selling him four bruised appas for a single copper. They weren't the best of the lot, but they were cheap, and he didn't mind. He stuffed two into his pockets and wolfed down the others on the spot.

The walk back to the slums was a familiar one. Even as an apprentice, Subaru couldn't yet afford even the most modest accommodations in the city's bustling center. It wasn't a long hike, but the difference between the lively market and the dreary slums was stark.

"Subaru! Felt was looking for you," called Samuel, a sturdy man hauling a heavy beam over his shoulder.

"Thanks," Subaru replied with a wave. "Live strong."

"Live strong," Samuel echoed with a grin.

It didn't take long for Subaru to find Felt's shack. Poking his head inside, he was met with the sudden glint of steel—a dagger slicing through the air. He ducked instinctively, drawing his own blade in a flash and pressing it lightly against Felt's neck.

"You'll need to be faster than that, Felt," he said lazily, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Damn it! I thought I had you this time!" Felt pouted, lowering her weapon. "So, how was work, big bro?"

Subaru sighed, pulling out the two remaining appas from his pocket and tossing them to her. "It was fine. Here."

"You didn't have to," she said, a faint blush dusting her cheeks as she plopped into a rickety chair and bit into the fruit.

"Uh-huh," Subaru muttered, rolling his eyes. She'd have probably chewed him out if he hadn't brought her anything.

It had been eight years since Subaru first arrived in the Kingdom of Lugunica. He could still vividly recall those bewildering first weeks. One moment, he'd been at the park with his parents; the next, he found himself alone in the heart of the bustling capital, surrounded by strangers and an unfamiliar world.

Those early days were a blur of confusion and desperation. If it hadn't been for Felt bringing him to Old Man Rom's Loot House, he didn't know what might have become of him. The giant had taken him in, offering shelter and a place to belong. Subaru spent the first few years working for Rom, helping around the shop and learning to navigate the rough world of the slums.

As time went on, Subaru began taking every odd job he could find to pull his weight and carve out a future for himself. It wasn't until he turned fifteen—an age considered the threshold of manhood in Lugunica—that he finally secured steady work at Conrad's forge. The job was grueling but dependable, offering him a path toward stability.

Over the years, Felt had become something like a little sister to him. She had a knack for getting herself—and by extension, Subaru—into all sorts of trouble. She was brash, stubborn, and more often than not, a pain in his neck. Yet, despite her antics, Subaru couldn't deny how much he owed her.

"So, I got a job," Felt announced.

"Really? Of the reputable kind, I hope," Subaru replied, though he doubted Felt would ever give up her life of thievery.

"Pfft, as if," Felt smirked, the grin widening. "Some noble wants me to swipe some jewelry from a silver-haired half-elf. The best part? I get to sell it to a buyer he's already lined up! What a sucker!"

"A silver-haired half-elf?" Subaru frowned, his tone uneasy. "That's the description people use for the Witch of Envy. This sounds like trouble to me."

"Oh, come on, you're being superstitious, big bro. Besides, it's worth it—I got ten silver upfront, and the buyer's supposed to hand over another ten holy coins when I deliver the goods!"

"Ten holy coins?" Subaru arched an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. "That's a massive payday. Doesn't it seem… I don't know, suspicious that the guy who hired you is letting you sell the thing?"

"You're always paranoid," Felt scoffed, waving off his concerns. "It's probably just some dumb vendetta or something. Nobles are weird like that, ya know?"

Subaru paused, mulling it over. The whole thing felt a little off, but nobles did have a penchant for spending absurd amounts of money on frivolous schemes. Maybe this was no different.

"You're at least letting Rom act as your fence, right?" Subaru asked, concern still lingering in his voice.

"No shit," Felt replied with a scoff. "You think I'd trust anyone else with that kind of coinage?"

"Just trying to put my mind at ease," Subaru said, ruffling her hair with a smirk. "You're going to leave us all behind once you get paid, I suppose?"

"Well, who would want to stay here?" Felt frowned.

"Rom?" Subaru pointed out.

"That's just because he doesn't trust people. Besides, it's not like I'm going to forget about you all!" Felt stuck out her tongue.

"Uh-huh," Subaru muttered, shaking his head. "Well, just be safe. Live strong."

"Live strong," Felt replied with a grin as Subaru headed back to his dwelling.

Subaru's home was a modest one-room shack nestled between two similarly built stone structures. The cramped space consisted of a small hearth, a rickety table, and a straw bed. It wasn't much, but it served its purpose.

Setting a pot on the hearth, Subaru got to work preparing his dinner. He boiled a simple vegetable stew and paired it with some stale bread for dipping. After half an hour, he sat down to his meal. It wasn't fancy—he would have killed for some meat—but such luxuries were reserved for special occasions.

Despite the hardships, Subaru had a goal. With his current pay, he calculated he'd be able to leave the slums in a few years. While Felt might have chosen the life of a thief, Subaru was committed to carving out a future through hard, honest work. Besides, he lacked the sleight of hand needed to make a living stealing.

After finishing his meal, Subaru lay back on his straw bed, watching the fire smolder into faint embers. The warmth of the hearth lulled him into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning began like every other. Subaru woke early, splashed his face with cold water, and donned fresh clothes. Strapping on his belt and dagger, he stepped outside and locked the sturdy wooden door to his shack before starting his morning walk to the artisan district.

"You're here. Good," Conrad said gruffly when Subaru arrived at the forge. The old smith was already hard at work. "Give me another solid day's work, and you might even get out of here before dusk. Step to it, son."

Without hesitation, Subaru tied on his apron and gloves, taking his place at the furnace. Feeding the fire and hammering metal, he worked diligently alongside Conrad.

The rush order consumed most of the day, demanding their full attention. By mid-afternoon, their combined effort paid off, and the job was complete. Satisfied with the progress, Conrad allowed Subaru to leave early after they finished the necessary preparations for the following day.

On his way back, Subaru heard the faint sound of crying. Looking up, he spotted a familiar green-haired figure sitting by the side of the road. "Plum, what are you doing?" he asked, approaching the sniffling little girl, who looked around nervously.

Startled, Plum looked up with teary eyes. "S-Subaru?" she sniffled.

"Did you lose your mom again?" Subaru asked, crouching down.

Plum sniffled harder, nodding her head.

"Come on. Your dad's just up the road," Subaru said gently, taking her small hand in his. Together, they headed toward Kadomon's fruit stand.

"Will Momma be mad?" Plum asked, her voice trembling.

"Relieved, more like," Subaru chuckled. "But you've got to stop wandering off. Uncle Subaru won't always be around to bail you out!"

When they arrived, Kadomon was visibly relieved to see his daughter safe. "Plum!" he exclaimed, scooping her up in a bear hug. He turned to Subaru with a grateful nod. "Thanks, kid. You've done me a real favor."

The fruit vendor, clearly appreciative, offered Subaru a deal—appas for only a single copper. However, after a huffy glare from Plum, Kadomon grudgingly handed Subaru four flawless appas free of charge.

"Thanks again, Kadomon. And you—" Subaru gave Plum a pointed look—"no more running off, okay?"

Plum pouted, but Subaru just ruffled her hair and went on his way.

Crossing down through the streets, Subaru munched on two of the fresh appas, savoring their crisp sweetness. He stuffed the remaining two into his pockets, already imagining sharing them with Felt. If her latest job paid off, it might be one of the last times she'd rely on him for snacks.

By the time Subaru entered the slums, the dim light of evening had begun to cast long shadows. Deciding to stop by the Loot House to see how Felt's job had gone, he made his way through the familiar alleys.

As he crossed a small creek, Subaru suddenly stopped in his tracks. Standing on the opposite bank was a striking figure—a silver-haired girl looking around with a determined expression. Subaru's heart skipped a beat. She wasn't just any half-elf. She matched the stories perfectly.

She looked like Satella.

A shiver ran down Subaru's spine at the thought of the name. He turned quickly, but not quickly enough. Their eyes locked for a fraction of a second—a fraction too long. The girl's gaze sharpened, and before Subaru could slip away, she started marching toward him with purpose.

"You there! Excuse me!" she called out.

Subaru considered brushing her off and walking away, but something about her made him hesitate. Before he realized it, she was standing directly in front of him.

"You," she said, her voice steady but urgent. "Have you seen a girl? She has golden hair and wears a red scarf. Please, I need to find her."

Subaru's heart sank. She was looking for Felt. Of course she was.

He had known from the moment he saw her that she must be Felt's mark. The silver-haired girl's demeanor matched the description of someone on a mission. Subaru considered telling her off. By now, Felt would have sold whatever she had taken, and if she hadn't, the last thing Subaru would do was help a stranger get one over on family.

"No, I can't say I have," Subaru lied, his tone steady. "Sorry."

The silver-haired girl studied him for a long moment, her gaze almost piercing. For a second, Subaru thought she might be trying to read him. At last, she nodded. "Okay, thank you," she said softly before turning and heading deeper into the slums.

Subaru watched her retreating figure, a strange unease twisting in his gut. He felt a pang of guilt for lying to her, though he couldn't quite place why. He didn't owe her anything, and she was Felt's mark, after all. Still, there was something about her presence that lingered, something that tugged at him.

Shaking off the feeling, Subaru took a sharp right turn, opting for a longer route to Rom's Loot House. He didn't want to risk the half-elf trailing him. Glancing over his shoulder as he walked, he carefully scanned his surroundings. Once he was satisfied that he hadn't been followed, he continued on his way.

By the time he arrived at Rom's Loot House, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The thick wooden doors loomed in front of him, and the barred windows were dark—too dark. Subaru frowned. Something wasn't right.

Rom wasn't the type to skulk around his place without light, especially not at this hour.

His hand instinctively went to the dagger at his belt as he pushed the door. To his surprise, it swung open easily. Subaru froze, his unease deepening. The interior was cloaked in shadow, the faint light of the dying day barely penetrating the gloom.

This is wrong, Subaru thought, pulling his knife free. The old man never left the door unlocked. Especially not at night.

For a moment, Subaru hesitated. He could leave, and come back in the morning when it was safer to investigate. But the thought of something happening to Rom—or worse, to Felt—drove him forward.

Taking a step back, Subaru surveyed the building. Going in through the front door felt reckless. Rom's windows were all barred, save for one—the second-floor window where the bars were loose. Subaru had discovered that weakness years ago, though he'd only ever exploited it to swipe Felt some milk or a sweet roll.

Steeling himself, Subaru opened his gate, letting mana course through his muscles, and vaulted onto the roof, landing as quietly as he could manage. He crept toward the second-floor window, pulling out his dagger and using its butt to knock loose the rusted bars. Slowly and carefully, he pushed the window open and slipped inside.

The second floor was just as dark as the first, the air heavy with stillness. Not a single candle had been lit.

Subaru crouched low, his dagger at the ready. His instincts screamed that something was very, very wrong.

Scowling, Subaru edged slowly along the wall, keeping to the shadows until he reached the railing overlooking the bar below. His eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

The room was a mess. A table lay shattered into splinters, and not far from the wreckage...

Subaru's stomach lurched, and his heart sank. Slumped over on the floor, face down in a pool of blood, was Rom. The sight turned Subaru's veins to ice, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

R-Rom?! His thoughts screamed. He wanted to vomit, but an even darker, more urgent fear gripped him. Where is Felt?!

His mind raced. He wanted to rush down the stairs, to check if Felt was safe, but before he could act, the front door creaked open further. To his shock, the silver-haired half-elf from earlier stepped inside. Subaru's heart clenched. Someone must have pointed her here.

No, no, get out of here! he thought, his body tensing as if willing the words to reach her. But he stayed silent. If whoever—or whatever—had taken out Rom was still nearby, yelling would only make him a target.

Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of steel caught Subaru's attention. Before he could think, he was moving. Sparks flew as his dagger collided with a blade, deflecting a slash aimed straight at the half-elf's back.

"Run!" Subaru barked, blocking a second strike with everything he had.

The adrenaline coursing through him drowned out his fear. He wasn't the Sword Saint by any stretch, but his years spent surviving alongside Felt had taught him how to fight. Between the two of them, Subaru had always been the better fighter.

"W-what?" the half-elf stammered, wheeling around in shock.

"Oh? A new dance partner?" purred a feminine voice, syrupy and unsettling.

Subaru's movements became frantic as he dodged and parried a relentless flurry of slashes, each one meant to gut him where he stood. His arms ached from the effort, but his resolve held. Just as he began to falter, several shimmering ice missiles whizzed past him, aimed at the shadowy attacker.

The figure leapt back, giving Subaru a chance to catch his breath. He dropped into a defensive stance, sweat dripping down his brow.

"You're the same guy from earlier," the half-elf accused, her tone sharp but tinged with confusion.

"We can save introductions for later!" Subaru snapped, panting as he kept his focus on the attacker.

"How cute—a lovers' quarrel," the figure cooed, stepping into the faint light.

Subaru's eyes narrowed. The woman was unusually tall, with long, flowing black hair and a smirk that sent chills down his spine. She wore a revealing black dress that left little to the imagination, and in her hand, she twirled a wicked-looking purple kukri blade as though it were a toy.

"Where is Felt?!" Subaru barked, gripping his dagger tighter, his voice laced with equal parts fury and desperation.

"Her insides were so wonderful!" the woman crooned, a twisted grin spreading across her face.

Subaru froze, his breath catching in his throat. The world seemed to stop. His mind refused to process what he was seeing. Felt—his little sister in all but blood—lay lifeless, her bright spark extinguished.

Everything went numb. His body felt weightless, like he was floating in a void. But as quickly as the numbness came, it was replaced by a blinding, searing rage. His vision turned red, and a guttural scream tore from his throat as he launched himself at the woman.

Steel clashed, the sound ringing out in the dark room. The half-elf, quick on her feet, sent a barrage of ice missiles hurtling toward the attacker. But Subaru barely registered them. All he could feel was his fury. He wanted blood. He wanted revenge.

The woman's blade met his dagger in a flurry of sparks, her movements fluid and practiced. Subaru's strikes were wild, driven by pure emotion rather than technique. He didn't care. He didn't even notice the first cut that sliced across his arm or the second that grazed his side. The pain was meaningless.

More slashes came, each leaving its mark on his flesh, but Subaru pressed forward, his rage drowning out everything else. He didn't care if it killed him. All he wanted was to make her pay.

Subaru's slash caught nothing but air as the woman leapt into the air with startling agility, blitzing toward the half-elf. Instinct kicked in, and Subaru hurled his dagger with all his might. "Don't you dare ignore me!" he roared.

With a casual kick, the woman deflected the blade, sending it hurtling back toward him. Subaru reacted quickly, kicking up one of Rom's wooden stools to block the returning dagger. The blade embedded itself in the stool with a dull thunk.

When Subaru looked back, the half-elf had seized the moment. Her ice magic coiled around the attacker's leg, freezing her in place.

Not one to waste an opportunity, Subaru ripped his dagger free from the stool and charged, pouring everything he had into the attack. Rage and desperation propelled him forward, his focus singular: kill her.

But just as he closed the distance, the woman did the unthinkable. With a sickening rip, she tore the skin off her own calf, freeing her leg from the ice. The grotesque act caught Subaru off guard, leaving him overextended.

Before he could recover, her blade found its mark.

A searing, splitting pain tore through his gut. Subaru staggered back, the world spinning as he tumbled to the ground. His hands instinctively clutched at his stomach, only to feel warm, sticky blood pouring from the wound.

No, no, no, no… Subaru's mind screamed as his vision blurred. His body felt heavy, his strength fading fast. She needs to die. I-I can't…

Through the haze of pain, Subaru's eyes widened in horror as he saw the half-elf's neck split open in a clean, brutal slash. Crimson blood sprayed across the room, painting the dim light in a macabre hue. She crumpled to the floor near him, her lifeless eyes meeting his for a brief, haunting moment.

"Poor dance patterns," the woman said with a smirk, her voice dripping with mockery. "But such lovely insides."

Subaru's head lolled to the side, his fading gaze settling on the corner where Felt's lifeless body lay. The sight of her, so still and so small, was the last thing he saw before his body went limp and the darkness consumed him.

Chapter 3: ARC 1 - Chapter 2: Redo

ARC I

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Chapter II:

Redo

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"Felt!" Subaru's eyes snapped open, his body jolting upright as he stared at the familiar roof of his shack. For a long moment, he sat frozen, his breath uneven, his heart racing. Was it a nightmare? Was that all it was?

The world around him seemed unchanged. The fire from the night before was now nothing more than a pile of warm ashes. His sweat-soaked clothes from the forge hung limply over the back of a chair, waiting to be cleaned. Everything was exactly as it had been the morning before he had seen... seen...

Subaru shuddered at the memory of Felt's lifeless body curled up in the corner of Rom's Loot House. The image lingered in his mind, sharp and gut-wrenching.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Subaru stared out the small window. Was it really a dream? Or… something else?

Years ago, he had experienced something similar. He'd been climbing an abandoned building, had lost his footing, and—well, he couldn't remember what had happened next. The next thing he knew, he was standing in the doorway of Rom's Loot House. When Samuel and Eric had come asking him to play for the second time, he had refused, shaken and confused.

For years, Subaru convinced himself that the incident was just his mind playing tricks on him, a fabrication of stress or fear. But now… now he wasn't so sure.

Rising from the bed, Subaru dressed much as he had the day before. He splashed cold water on his face to chase away the lingering unease, fastened his belt, and secured his dagger. Stepping outside, he was met with the same sights and sounds of the slums as always. Yet, as he took in the familiar surroundings, a nauseating realization crept over him. I've seen all of this before.

Am I losing my mind? Subaru wondered, gripping the edge of the doorframe to steady himself. Forcing the unsettling thought aside, he made a decision. It was time to go to the forge and help Conrad—or at least, that's what he should have done. Instead, Subaru turned in the opposite direction, his steps quickening. He needed to find Felt.

When he reached her dwelling, Subaru poked his head inside, only to find it empty. His heart sank. Damn it. She's already gone.

Not wasting another moment, Subaru spun on his heel and sprinted toward Rom's Loot House. The streets blurred as he pushed his body to move faster, his chest tight with urgency.

Finally, he arrived. The familiar wooden door loomed before him, and he froze. His hand hovered over the surface, trembling. What if that crazy woman is already inside?

Swallowing hard, Subaru forced the fear down. His fist pounded on the door, each knock echoing in the stillness of the early morning. For a moment, there was silence. Then, faint shuffling sounds came from inside.

"For the rats?" a booming voice came from behind the door.

"Poison," Subaru replied quickly.

"For the White Whale?"

"Fish-hook."

"To the noble Dragon we are?"

"Shitbags! Open up, old man!" Subaru barked.

A moment later, the door creaked open to reveal the imposing figure of the bronze-skinned giant, Old Man Rom. His massive frame filled the doorway, and he looked down at Subaru with a raised brow. "What's got you in a mood, Subaru?"

"Felt. Have you seen her?" Subaru asked, stepping into the Loot House without waiting for an invitation.

"No, not today," Rom said, closing the door behind him. "She was by yesterday. Wanted me to mediate some goods she's planning to swipe. Why? Is Felt in some kind of trouble?"

"Yeah," Subaru said, pacing the room as his mind raced. "I think she's getting mixed up in some deep shit."

Rom frowned, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "Must be serious if it's enough to keep you from the forge. What makes you think she's gotten herself into something she can't handle?"

"I-it's hard to explain," Subaru said, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. How could he explain that he'd seen both of their dead bodies—or that he'd been killed himself? It sounded insane even to him. "Just… if she comes back, send her away. Don't let her go through with selling whatever it is she's swiping today. Whatever you do, don't let her meet the buyer. Promise me, old man."

Rom stared at him for a long moment, his sharp eyes searching Subaru's face. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Alright. I don't really understand what's going on, but you look rattled—and I know you care about Felt as much as I do. I'll make sure the deal doesn't go down. Can't say she'll be thrilled about it, though."

"Thanks, old man." Subaru let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, feeling a small measure of relief. "I'm going to let Conrad know an emergency came up. Maybe I can find Felt in the city center before it's too late. When is she supposed to meet the buyer?"

"Just before sunset," Rom replied.

"Alright. If I can't find her, I'll be back here before then! Live strong!" Subaru gave Rom a quick nod of thanks before spinning on his heel and sprinting out the door.

Subaru wasted no time, weaving through the crowded streets as he sprinted toward the artisan district. His heart pounded in rhythm with his frantic steps. When he burst into Conrad's forge, the clang of hammer on metal rang through the air. The old smith looked up, already at work shaping a glowing white hunk of steel on the anvil.

"By the Dragon, son, you're late!" Conrad barked, his scowl deepening. "Get your apron and gloves on—we've got a mountain of work to finish!"

"Conrad," Subaru said, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I hate to do this, but my little sister is in trouble. I have to find her."

The old smith froze mid-swing, his hammer hovering in the air. He turned to Subaru, his scowl darkening. "Son… you must be joking. We're drowning in work, and you think now's the time to run off?"

Conrad studied him for a long, tense moment. Subaru's expression didn't waver. Finally, with a heavy sigh, the smith cursed under his breath. "Dragon preserve me… go. Before I change my mind."

"Thank you!" Subaru said, bowing his head in gratitude before spinning around and bolting out of the forge.

Subaru abandoned the bustling streets, opting instead for the rooftops. He knew Felt would be using the heights to spot her mark—it was her preferred vantage point. If he couldn't find her directly, he could at least keep an eye out for the silver-haired half-elf. If she was searching for Felt, spotting her might lead him to his sister-figure as well.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, Subaru scanned the sea of people below. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but determination kept him moving. He was sure he could find one of them.

Hours passed, the relentless search wearing on him. Finally, Subaru perched on the edge of a rooftop, his chest heaving as he forced himself to stop and catch his breath. His stomach growled angrily, reminding him of how long it had been since he'd eaten. Damn it.

Leaping down to the street level, Subaru slicked his sweat-drenched hair back, frustration mounting. He'd been at it for hours, and his body was beginning to protest. Noticing he was near the market, Subaru decided to grab something to eat. He didn't want the distraction, but a short break might clear his head.

As he walked toward the market, a familiar voice reached his ears. "D-don't be afraid, little one. Where's your momma?"

Subaru's eyes snapped up. The silver-haired half-elf was kneeling down, speaking softly to a sniffling Plum, who looked just as lost as the day before. Subaru approached, and the little girl's face lit up when she saw him.

"S-Subaru!" Plum cried, running over and hugging one of his legs.

"Oh, are you two related?" the half-elf asked, tilting her head.

The image of her throat being slit in the Loot House flashed through Subaru's mind, vivid and horrifying. He forced the memory aside, willing himself to stay composed.

"N-no, just a friend," Subaru replied, reaching down to take Plum's hand.

"Oh, I see. Well, if you can get her home, I'll leave you two alone," she said, smiling warmly at the girl, who quickly hid behind Subaru's leg. "Out of curiosity, though—have you seen a girl with golden hair and a red scarf?"

Subaru's stomach dropped. So, Felt's already stolen it. He frowned, debating how to respond. "I might have some information," he said cautiously, gripping Plum's hand tighter. "But I need to take Plum back to her father first."

"Really?!" The half-elf blinked, surprised at her apparent stroke of luck. "Okay, but don't run off. I'm not in the mood to chase anyone else today!"

Taking Plum by the hand, Subaru began the walk to her father's fruit stand. His mind churned as he considered how best to navigate the situation. The events of the night—last night? tonight?—weighed heavily on him. One thought stood out: the woman who had killed Felt and Rom had likely not been targeting them specifically.

It made sense. People like them didn't draw that kind of attention. But a silver-haired half-elf who bore a striking resemblance to the legendary Witch of Envy? That was an entirely different matter. Plenty of individuals would have motive to harm her.

"Daddy!" Plum's voice broke through his thoughts as she wriggled free of his grip and dashed into her father's waiting arms.

"What are you doing here, little one? You're supposed to be with your mom," Kadomon said, scooping her up effortlessly. His stern expression softened as he looked at his daughter. Then his gaze shifted to Subaru. "What's this about?"

"S-Subaru found me," Plum sniffled. "I lost Momma."

"That so?" Kadomon's eyes flicked to the silver-haired girl standing a few steps behind Subaru, and his frown deepened. "Well, thank you, young man. And this is…?"

"An acquaintance," Subaru said quickly, cutting off any questions.

Kadomon's brow furrowed, but he nodded. "Alright then." He reached behind his stall and pulled out a handful of appas. "Here, take these—no charge."

That's different, Subaru thought, but he accepted the four pristine appas without comment. "Thanks. And as for you—" he turned to Plum, his tone firm—"don't go running off again, okay?"

"Okay," Plum said with a sniffle, hugging her father tightly.

Subaru handed one of the appas to the half-elf, stuffed two more into his pockets, and began eating the fourth. He gestured up the street with a nod. "Come with me," he said, setting off at a brisk pace.

The half-elf followed closely, her steps light but purposeful. Subaru could feel her eyes on him, studying him as though trying to piece him together. "You said you knew something," she pressed after a moment.

Subaru walked in silence, his thoughts swirling. He could send her on a wild goose chase, keep her far away from Felt—and maybe out of danger. But the woman who had killed Felt and Rom might still be hunting her. If Subaru misdirected her, he might inadvertently send her straight into harm's way.

Finally, he made his decision.

"The girl you're looking for is named Felt," Subaru said at last, his tone even.

The half-elf stopped in her tracks, her amethyst eyes narrowing suspiciously. "So, you know her?" she asked, her voice laced with icy mistrust.

Subaru felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He leapt back instinctively just as a blast of cold air surged toward him, forcing him further into the alleyway.

"Hold on—"

"You're working with her, aren't you?" she accused sharply, conjuring several ice missiles that hovered menacingly in the air around her.

"No, I'm not a thief! Just listen to me, will you?" Subaru barked, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Lia, maybe we should hear him out," a disembodied voice interjected. A moment later, a fuzzy, grey-haired cat materialized beside the half-elf, floating lazily in the air.

"Puck?" the woman—apparently named Lia—said in surprise, her icy demeanor softening slightly.

"A spirit?" Subaru asked, his eyebrows rising in astonishment.

"Oh, hi there! I'm Puck, nice to meet you!" the fuzzy cat-spirit greeted warmly, flashing a disarming smile. "Now, if you could introduce yourself, I'm sure we can all get along. And if not, well…" Puck's tone remained cheerful, but the undertone carried a subtle warning.

"I'm Subaru," he said quickly, eager to avoid further misunderstanding. "And I take it you're Puck… and Lia is your name?"

The half-elf shot Puck an annoyed look, as though he'd breached some unspoken protocol. "It's Emilia, actually. Only close friends are allowed to call me Lia."

"Emilia… got it," Subaru nodded, filing the name away. "Well, you were the girl my sister targeted. Well, Felt's not really my sister—more like someone I grew up with… sort of. The point is, whatever she stole from you is going to get her in a world of trouble, so I want to make sure you get it back."

Emilia looked at him for a long moment before glancing at her spirit companion.

"I don't sense any malice in him," Puck shrugged, his floating form twisting lazily in the air.

"Say I believe you," Emilia said cautiously, her gaze returning to Subaru. "Can you lead me to where your sister—or whatever she is—ran off to?"

"Of course," Subaru replied quickly, raising his hands in reassurance. "But on the condition that you promise not to harm her or report this to the authorities. She's a good person, really. Life in the slums isn't… exactly rosy."

Emilia studied him, her expression a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. After a pause, she nodded. "Okay, I promise, as long as I get back what was taken from me."

Subaru relaxed visibly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Alright, follow me."

Leading Emilia into the slums felt wrong on so many levels. Subaru couldn't ignore the looks she attracted. The silver-haired half-elf was an anomaly here, and it didn't help that her appearance carried such ominous associations. Half-elves were seen as trouble, and those with silver hair? They drew whispers of fear and mistrust, their resemblance to the Witch of Envy enough to invite danger. Subaru had heard rumors of the Witch Cult targeting women who even faintly resembled the Witch, and it made his skin crawl.

He glanced back at Emilia, his thoughts lingering on the crazed woman who had killed them in another timeline. Could she be connected to the cult? The idea made him uneasy, but there were too many unknowns for him to even begin piecing it together. What he did know was that dealing with the assassin—or anything like her—was far beyond his capabilities.

As they entered deeper into the slums, Subaru caught a few wary glances from the locals. He was familiar enough with this area to avoid outright hostility, but Emilia was clearly an outsider. Her presence alone could draw trouble if they lingered too long.

"You mentioned your sister was in trouble?" Emilia asked, her voice cutting through the silence. Her tone was cautious but steady. "Who exactly is after her, besides me?"

Subaru sighed, glancing back at her. "I don't know who they are, but whoever's lined up to buy whatever she took from you? They're bad news. Real bad. If it's who I think it is, she's in way over her head."

As Felt's hideout came into view, Subaru slowed to a stop. The ramshackle building was as unassuming as ever, blending seamlessly into the squalor of its surroundings. He turned to Emilia, gesturing for her to hold back.

"Why don't you wait here?" he suggested. "Let me talk to her first. If I just show up with her mark, she's liable to freak out and bolt."

Emilia frowned, crossing her arms. "You're sure she won't just run off anyway?"

"She won't," Subaru said, though he wasn't entirely sure. "Trust me. This'll go smoother if I handle it."

After a moment of hesitation, Emilia nodded. "Fine. I'll stay here. But don't make me regret this."

Subaru approached the shack and pushed the creaky door open, peeking inside. Felt was sprawled on her straw bed, a casual smirk spreading across her face as she looked up. "Hey, big bro, you're off early!" she teased, sitting up slightly.

"Yeah," Subaru replied, leaning against the doorway. His tone was firm but measured. "Listen, I got some intel about your buyer. Word is they're tied to the Witch Cult."

Felt's smirk vanished instantly. She jumped to her feet, her eyes narrowing. "The Witch Cult? Who told you that?"

"It doesn't matter," Subaru said, brushing off the question. His voice carried an edge of urgency. "What matters is this whole deal is bad news. And while you might be pissed at me…" He hesitated for a moment before dropping the bombshell. "I found your mark. She's waiting outside so you can hand back whatever you swiped."

"You what?!" Felt's face twisted in a mix of anger and disbelief. She stepped toward him, her voice rising. "Subaru, you idiot! Why the hell would you do something like that?!"

caught himself and took a deep breath, reigning in his temper. "Listen, we're family. I'm looking out for you. The best thing you can do is just give back whatever you took. Put this whole mess behind us and move on. There will be other marks—ones that don't come with this kind of risk. This one isn't worth it, no matter how much the pay is."

Felt's face twisted in anger, her fists clenched. "Easy for you to say! You've got a good career ahead of you as an apprentice. In a few years, you'll leave this place, find some woman, and probably forget all about us!"

"Hey, that's not true!" Subaru shot back, his voice rising. "And don't act like you don't want to get out of this place just as much as anyone else does."

"Oh, maybe I will get out!" Felt shouted, her voice dripping with venom. "And maybe you're just jealous because I'm the one doing it! Well, I won't let you hold me back!"

Her sudden declaration caught Subaru off guard, and he barely had time to react as she tensed, her eyes darting toward the cracked window by her bed. Before he could move, Felt lunged, diving through the opening with the nimbleness of someone who'd done it countless times before.

"Shit!" Subaru hissed, rushing to the window. He braced himself on the frame, scanning the outside for her. Without hesitation, he hoisted himself out, landing in the dirt with a thud.

Emilia, who had been waiting outside, must have seen Felt dive out the window because she was giving chase too. Subaru groaned inwardly. This is not ideal.

He knew he needed to stop Felt—no matter the cost. Even if she ended up hating him, it was better than watching her get killed. Opening his gate, Subaru channeled mana to enhance his speed, quickly closing the distance between them. Felt, however, was no slouch. She was quick and had the advantage of knowing the winding paths of the slums better than anyone. Subaru just hoped Emilia wouldn't do anything rash.

"Stop!" Emilia's voice rang out, firm and commanding. Subaru's eyes widened as she leapt into the air with surprising grace, landing directly in Felt's path. The young thief skidded to a halt, her crimson eyes darting between Subaru behind her and Emilia blocking the way forward. She was cornered.

"Traitor!" Felt spat, glaring daggers at Subaru. "I won't just give it back. I grabbed it fair and square!"

Emilia's expression was calm but stern, her amethyst eyes unwavering. "Theft is wrong," she said, her voice steady. "While I might have been able to overlook it if it were something trivial, I cannot let you get away with what you took." She raised a hand, and several ice missiles materialized around her, shimmering with cold menace.

Felt's hand shot back to the hilt of her dagger, her body tense as she prepared for a fight.

"Stop it, both of you!" Subaru shouted, stepping closer and instinctively reaching for his weapon. "Felt, just give it back! Please, I don't—"

"What's this now?"

Subaru's heart nearly stopped at the sound of the voice. A chill ran down his spine as he turned toward an alleyway to his left. Emerging from the shadows was a woman, her unsettlingly calm demeanor and cruel smile unmistakable.

He recognized her instantly.

Their murderer.

Chapter 4: ARC 1 - Chapter 3: A Fated Meeting

ARC I

---

Chapter III:

A Fated Meeting

---

Reinhard van Astrea was enjoying a rare day off. That morning, he’d visited the market for fresh produce, planning to prepare a good meal later that evening. The summer day had been unseasonably cool and pleasant, making his errands even more enjoyable.

Stopping by the guard station on a whim, Reinhard overheard a discussion about a shipment of spearheads destined for the local armory. The last delivery had been stolen en route, and this one was to be transported under heavy guard. The assignment of four men to escort the shipment seemed excessive to Reinhard, so he volunteered to assist. It was his day off, but something about the task felt… right, as if it was where he was meant to be.

With the payment for the crates in hand, Reinhard made his way across town. The artisan district bustled with activity as the day wound down. He paused briefly outside a small forge, admiring the craftsmanship of the shop’s exterior before stepping inside.

Behind the counter stood a grey-haired man, his face streaked with sweat and soot. He looked up in surprise, quickly straightening when he realized who had entered.

“S-Sir Reinhard!” the smith stammered, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “I am honored to have the Sword Saint grace my humble shop! Conrad is my name, sir.”

Reinhard extended a hand, smiling warmly. “I’m flattered, Conrad. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m here to collect the spearheads for the Watch.”

The man’s excitement dimmed slightly, likely hoping for a personal commission, but he quickly recovered. “Y-yes, of course. Though, I must say, I’m surprised they sent someone of your stature for such a task.”

“It’s my day off,” Reinhard replied with a chuckle. “I thought it would be a good way to end the day.”

Conrad’s demeanor brightened. “Well, I’m honored regardless! The crates are over there,” he said, gesturing to a stack of three neatly packed boxes in the corner. “I just finished the last one an hour ago. I would’ve had them ready sooner, but... well, there they are.”

Reinhard walked over, removing the lid from the top crate and inspecting one of the spearheads. He turned it in his hands, nodding appreciatively. “Fine craftsmanship. What caused the delay?”

“Thank you,” Conrad said, puffing out his chest with pride. The Sword Saint’s approval was no small thing. “As for the delay, well, my apprentice was dealing with some drama at home. Apparently, his little sister was in trouble.”

“What sort of trouble?” Reinhard asked, closing the crate with a thoughtful expression.

Conrad shrugged. “Not entirely sure. The boy’s from the slums—a good kid, hardworking—but from what I’ve heard, the girl’s a bit of a troublemaker. Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll handle it.”

Reinhard considered this for a moment, a faint unease settling in his gut. His instincts, honed over years of experience, rarely led him astray. He glanced at the crates, then back to the smith. “Would you mind holding onto these a little longer? There’s something I’d like to check on.”

---

This is bad… this is VERY bad! Subaru thought, his heart pounding in his chest.

The woman’s smile stretched unnaturally wide, her sharp eyes flicking between Felt and himself before landing on Emilia. The malice radiating from her was almost palpable. Subaru’s grip on his dagger tightened as he tracked her every move, his body coiled like a spring, ready to act at the slightest provocation.

“I was coming to meet this one, I think,” the woman said, her voice lilting with unsettling amusement as she gestured lazily toward Felt. Her gaze shifted to Emilia, and her smile somehow widened even further. “But what’s this? Our little half-elf friend is here too. What a delightful surprise.”

Subaru glanced at Felt, noting the confusion and tension in her expression. She clearly didn’t understand the danger she was in. “You must be the buyer then,” Felt said, her tone defensive as she shot Subaru an accusatory glare. “Things are a bit… complicated.”

Run, Felt. Run! Subaru wanted to scream, but his throat felt dry, his mind racing as he calculated their slim chances of survival.

“Well then,” the woman continued, a sadistic glint in her eyes. “Let’s begin our transaction, shall we?”

“Hold—” Emilia started, raising her hand as icy energy began to form.

But Subaru was already moving. He surged forward, his knife intercepting the deadly blow meant for Emilia’s neck. The strike was so fast that, had he not been anticipating it, he doubted anyone would have seen it coming. The force of the clash jarred his arm, but he held firm, locking eyes with the Butcher.

The woman’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, she seemed delighted. “Oh my, quick on your feet, aren’t you?” she purred, leaping back just as an ice spike erupted from the ground where she had stood. She landed gracefully a few feet away, twirling her weapon with unnerving ease.

“Stay away from my daughter,” Puck growled, materializing at Emilia’s side. His normally cheerful expression was gone, replaced by a cold fury. A wave of icy energy radiated from him, the air around them dropping several degrees in an instant.

The Butcher’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “How interesting,” she said, her voice dripping with anticipation. “This might actually be fun.”

“Puck, it’s getting pretty late. Are you sure you have enough energy to handle this?” Emilia asked, her amethyst eyes flicking nervously to the gray cat perched beside her.

“For her? I’ve got just enough left in the tank, don’t worry, Lia,” Puck replied confidently, crossing his tiny arms. His casual tone did little to mask the sharp edge of his determination.

“How wonderful!” the butcher cooed, her voice dripping with delight. “I wasn’t excited about this little dance, but now I might actually have some fun!”

“Well, since you’ll remember this moment for the rest of your very short life,” Puck said coolly, “I’ll introduce myself properly. I’m Puck. Do try to think of me fondly after you’re dead.”

Without missing a beat, Puck raised his tiny hands, summoning a wall of ice missiles far larger than anything Subaru had seen Emilia conjure before. They hovered menacingly around the battlefield, gleaming in the sunset like a thousand frozen blades. With a flick of his paw, the missiles shot toward the woman, encasing her in a mound of thick, unyielding ice.

Subaru felt a flicker of hope, only for it to be extinguished a moment later as the icy prison shattered into shards. The woman emerged unscathed, her cloak disintegrating into ash as she brushed herself off with a delighted grin.

“One must always be prepared!” she said cheerfully before launching herself toward Emilia with inhuman speed.

Subaru moved instinctively, ready to defend, but Emilia was faster. She formed a shield of ice just in time, blocking the attack with a deafening crack. At the same moment, Puck unleashed another volley of ice missiles, forcing the woman to pull back with a predatory laugh.

Subaru took the opportunity to dart over to Felt, who was still frozen in place. “See why I was worried now?” he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

“Okay… so maybe you had a point,” Felt admitted begrudgingly, her eyes wide as she took in the chaos.

“I don’t like how this is going,” Subaru muttered, his eyes tracking the assassin as she deftly dodged Puck’s relentless ice missiles, leaving the street scarred with jagged frost.

“What? That little spirit is going to wipe the floor with her,” Felt retorted, folding her arms. “She can’t even get close to those two. We should slip out while they’re distracted.”

“I’m not so sure,” Subaru said, unease growing in his gut. “Rom told me once that spirits can’t maintain their physical forms forever, and Emilia was already worried about Puck running out of juice before this fight’s over.”

“Is that really our problem?” Felt huffed impatiently.

Subaru shot her a glare. “We dragged her into this mess. We can’t just let her get killed.”

Felt frowned, biting back a retort. Subaru knew her well enough to see she wouldn’t leave, especially not when he was putting himself in harm’s way.

“Goodnight!” Puck’s cheerful voice rang out, and Subaru saw that Emilia had trapped the assassin’s foot in ice. He recognized the move instantly.

This is my chance. Subaru surged forward, channeling mana into his legs. Puck sent a towering wall of ice at the butcher, but the assassin sacrificed the skin on her leg to break free, narrowly avoiding the icy barrage. Subaru was on her before she could land.

The move caught her off guard—whether it was the pain or the sheer audacity of his attack, she was slow to raise her guard. With a quick slash, Subaru’s blade found its mark, cutting a deep gash along her side.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glint of steel as another blade in her free hand arced toward his gut. He couldn’t dodge in time.

Sparks erupted as Felt’s dagger intercepted the assassin’s strike at the last possible moment. A heartbeat later, an ice missile from Emilia forced the butcher to leap back, creating space between them.

“You cut me,” the assassin murmured, her tone almost playful as her fingers brushed the blood seeping from her side. Her sharp eyes locked onto Subaru. “You’re a perceptive one, aren’t you? To catch me off guard like that... impressive.”

Subaru tightened his grip on his sword, his breathing heavy but steady. “You’re not untouchable,” he shot back, trying to sound braver than he felt.

“I underestimated her,” Puck admitted, his form shrinking as the last light of dusk faded. His voice carried a tinge of regret. “I’m sorry, Lia.”

“You did great, Puck. I can handle it from here,” Emilia said with a reassuring smile as the spirit vanished into the green gem around her neck.

Great, there goes our heavy hitter, Subaru thought grimly, tightening his grip on his weapon as he turned his attention back to the assassin. She stood confidently, twirling her dual blades with unnerving ease.

“Aww, my favorite dance partner is gone,” the assassin sighed, her disappointment mockingly exaggerated. Her sharp gaze darted b

etween the trio. “Well, I suppose you three will have to entertain me instead. I’d hate for you to perform poorly before I get to see your insides!”

“Emilia,” Subaru said firmly, glancing at her, “keep your distance. Felt and I will handle her up close.”

Emilia nodded in agreement, her determination clear.

Subaru turned to Felt with a smirk. “Try to keep up.”

“You wish you were as fast as me, bro,” Felt shot back, her dagger at the ready.

In an instant, they charged the assassin. Sparks erupted as their weapons clashed in a flurry of strikes and parries. Emilia supported them from a distance, launching bolts of ice to keep their foe on the defensive. Whenever Subaru lagged, Felt was there to cover him, and when both faltered, Emilia’s precise attacks forced the assassin back. Don’t give her a moment to breathe! Subaru thought, pressing the assault with all his strength.

But no matter how hard they pushed, the assassin seemed unfazed. Despite her injuries, she moved with eerie grace, parrying and countering with an unsettling calm, as if she were toying with them. Subaru’s unease grew with every passing second. Something has to give.

The break came suddenly and violently. Felt overextended herself, and without thinking, Subaru shoved her aside, intercepting the assassin’s blade as it slashed into his side. Pain seared through his body, and he staggered, blood soaking his shirt. The assassin pivoted, her blade poised to take his head—until a heavy club struck her square in the chest, sending her skidding back.

“Thank the Dragon,” Subaru groaned, clutching his side. He turned to see a familiar figure looming over him. “About time you showed up, old man.”

“I got worried, so I came looking for you two,” Rom said, his massive frame blocking the assassin’s path.

“Subaru, are you okay?!” Felt cried, her eyes wide as she saw the blood staining his clothes.

“This? I’ll be fine,” Subaru lied, his voice strained. He knew the wound was bad, but he forced himself to stay upright.

“A giant? My, my, they just keep coming,” the assassin said, her lips curling into a smirk. She rolled her shoulders, as though shaking off the impact of Rom’s blow. “But alas, I think I’ve been playing with my food for too long. Time to start narrowing you down.”

Subaru tried to rise, but his side screamed in protest. Before he could argue, Emilia knelt beside him, her expression calm but urgent. “You’re hurt. Hold still,” she commanded, lifting his shirt to inspect the wound. Her hands began to glow with a soft, soothing light as she knit his flesh back together.

“You focus on healing him. I’ll put this girl in the dirt,” Rom said confidently, gripping his massive club tightly.

“She handled the three of us at once. Don’t underestimate her, old man,” Subaru warned, his voice sharp with urgency.

“Don’t worry, son,” Rom said with a determined grin before charging at the assassin.

The butcher moved faster than she had before, her blades flashing like streaks of light. Felt darted in to support Rom, her smaller frame weaving nimbly as she tried to exploit openings in the woman’s defenses. It was clear now—if she had been toying with them earlier, she was taking this fight seriously.

Subaru struggled to rise, his instincts screaming at him to help, but Emilia’s firm hand on his shoulder kept him grounded. “I’m not done yet. Half a second longer,” she said, her voice steady as the glow from her magic continued to mend his wounds.

Gritting his teeth, Subaru watched helplessly as Rom and Felt dodged and parried, their movements growing increasingly desperate. The butcher’s relentless attacks pushed them to their limits, each swing of her blade threatening to end it all.

Finally, the warm glow subsided, and Emilia released him. “There,” she said, her voice tinged with relief.

Subaru wasted no time. Launching forward, he joined the fray. With Rom’s brute strength, Felt’s agility, and Subaru’s renewed vigor, the three pressed the assassin in unison. The clash of steel filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, hope sparked in Subaru’s chest. Even Emilia joined in, her ice magic providing crucial support to keep the butcher on the defensive.

We can do this, Subaru thought, his confidence rising.

Then, in an instant, the tide turned. The assassin blurred out of sight, her movements too fast to track.

Subaru’s stomach dropped as Rom let out a guttural sound, blood pouring from the back of his neck as the butcher’s blade found its mark. Time seemed to slow as Subaru’s eyes darted to Felt. The assassin’s second blade arced toward her, aimed to finish her in a single stroke.

Without thinking, Subaru kicked Felt back, placing himself in the path of the attack. The blade bit deep into his ankle, sending a jolt of searing pain through his leg. He gritted his teeth, his body trembling as he realized the blade had stopped just short of severing his foot entirely.

If I hadn’t acted... Subaru didn’t let himself finish the thought. Blood seeped into the dirt as the butcher stepped back, a predatory smile spreading across her face.

“Still standing? Impressive,” she said, her tone mocking. “But how long can you keep that up?”

“Run, Felt!” Subaru shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.

Felt hesitated, her eyes darting between him and Rom. For a brief moment, Subaru thought she might stay, but then she clenched her fists, closed her eyes, and turned, sprinting down the road.

“Oh no you don’t!” the butcher snarled, flinging one of her blades at Felt’s retreating figure.

Subaru’s body moved on instinct. He flung his dagger with all his strength, the blade cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. The clash of metal rang out as the two weapons collided midair, the assassin’s blade deflected. Felt disappeared into the darkness.

“Oh, how disappointing,” the woman sighed, her tone laced with mockery. “I wanted all of you. Well, I suppose I can always find her later.”

Subaru glanced at Rom, lying face-first in a pool of blood, his massive form eerily still. Gritting his teeth, Subaru forced himself to stay upright despite the burning pain in his leg. I’ll be joining him soon, he thought bitterly. But as long as Felt escaped, nothing else mattered. He couldn’t save the old man, and he couldn’t save himself.

Emilia stepped to his side, her voice trembling yet resolute. “We can still beat her.”

Subaru heard the doubt in her words, but he didn’t have the heart to call it out. Instead, he steadied himself and stared down the butcher, whose grin stretched unnaturally wide.

“As fun as this has been,” the woman cooed, twirling her remaining blade, “I think it’s time to take a good look at your insides.”

With a burst of speed, she launched herself forward. Subaru’s body reacted before his mind did. He stepped between her and Emilia, raising his arms defensively. Whether it was because Emilia had a better chance of buying Felt time or because he simply couldn’t bear to see her die, he didn’t know.

The blade sliced through his gut. Pain erupted in his body, sharp and consuming. His knees buckled, and the world blurred as he collapsed. The last thing Subaru saw was Emilia’s wide, tear-filled eyes locked on his, her lips forming words he couldn’t hear.

The world went dark.

---

“Subaru!” Emilia cried as she watched the young man collapse at her feet, blood pooling beneath him.

“How sweet,” the woman cooed, licking Subaru’s blood off her blade with a grotesque grin. “He tried to save you. Too bad he only delayed your end by a few moments.”

Fear and anger swirled in Emilia’s chest as she summoned her remaining strength. Drawing on the spirits, she formed a storm of ice missiles and launched them with deadly intent. The projectiles streaked toward the assassin, but each one missed, harmlessly embedding into the dirt as the woman dodged with unsettling grace.

Emilia backpedaled, desperately trying to create distance, but the assassin closed in fast, her blade gleaming in the faint light. Emilia’s breath caught, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Puck, save me!

The clang of metal rang out, deafening and unexpected. Emilia opened her eyes to see a figure standing between her and the assassin. He held Subaru’s dagger in hand, his white coat gleaming, and his striking red hair unmistakable.

“Reinhard?” she breathed, barely able to believe her eyes.

“Lady Emilia,” the knight said with a calm smile, glancing back at her over his shoulder. “I didn’t expect to find you here. It seems I arrived just in time.”

“How—”

“Subaru!” Felt’s anguished cry interrupted as she rushed to the fallen young man’s side, cradling him in her arms. “No, no, no!” Her eyes darted from Subaru’s pale face to Rom’s lifeless body, the weight of it all crashing down on her.

Snapping out of her daze, Emilia dropped to her knees beside Subaru. Her hands glowed faintly as she poured healing magic into his wound, desperate to stabilize him. His face was deathly pale, his breaths shallow, but she worked with a determination fueled by fear. “Stay with me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just stay with me.”

“This is unexpected,” the assassin, Elsa, said, her tone almost playful. “The Sword Saint in the slums? What twist of fate brings you here, I wonder.”

“I was picking up a shipment of spearheads from a smith named Conrad,” Reinhard replied, his voice steady. “He mentioned his apprentice’s little sister might be in trouble. Something told me to investigate. It seems my instincts were right.”

“That young man has caused me nothing but trouble today,” Elsa said with a frown, her eyes narrowing at Subaru.

“Then he’s a hero,” Reinhard said, his tone carrying a subtle edge. “To have thwarted the infamous Bowel Hunter, Elsa Granhiert, is no small feat.”

“Oh, how delightful!” Elsa chuckled, her grin widening. “To be recognized by the great Knight Reinhard. I wonder what you look like on the inside.” She licked her lips, her gaze hungry.

“I must apologize,” Reinhard said, his tone cool, “but I won’t entertain that behavior this evening.”

“Go on, then! Draw that mythical blade of yours!” Elsa taunted, her movements sharp and eager.

“Unfortunately for you,” Reinhard replied, twirling Subaru’s dagger with precision, “Reid has not deemed you a worthy opponent. This blade will suffice.”

Elsa’s expression faltered, her grin sharpening into a snarl. “How arrogant.”

Reinhard’s calm smile remained unbroken as he took a defensive stance. “Shall we begin?”

Emilia worked feverishly to stabilize Subaru, her hands glowing softly as healing magic flowed into his grievous wound. Her eyes flicked toward Rom, lying motionless in the dirt nearby. Felt hovered between them, torn with worry as she watched Emilia's every move. Around them, the sharp clang of blades and the sound of Reinhard and Elsa’s intense battle echoed through the night.

“Is he going to be alright?” Felt asked, her voice trembling.

“He should live,” Emilia said, though her tone held the weight of uncertainty. Subaru’s survival would depend on getting him to a skilled healer soon.

Once she was satisfied Subaru was stable, Emilia turned her attention to Rom. Kneeling beside the giant, she pressed her glowing hands to his wound, relieved to find a faint pulse. She worked quickly, pouring her mana into knitting his injuries, knowing every second counted. Reinhard’s measured movements in the fight told her one thing: he was holding back. If he got serious, she was certain he’d draw on all the mana in the area, leaving her with nothing to work with.

“I’m almost done,” Emilia said, her voice calm despite the urgency. Felt, reassured by the steady rise and fall of Subaru’s chest, knelt beside her. Her hands shook as she glanced between the two injured figures.

Finally, Emilia’s magic closed the last of Rom’s wounds. “Done,” she announced, her voice edged with exhaustion.

“Go for it!” Felt shouted, her confidence in Reinhard evident.

With a firm nod, Reinhard drew on the mana in the surrounding area. The very air seemed to hum with power as the energy coalesced around him, flooding into Subaru’s dagger. The blade, which moments ago had been an ordinary weapon, began to glow with an intense white light.

Elsa grinned, her predatory eyes gleaming. “What will you show me, I wonder?”

“The strength of a lineage of master swordsmen,” Reinhard replied calmly, raising the radiant blade. His movements were deliberate, almost serene, as he swung the dagger with calculated precision.

A massive wave of energy erupted from the blade, illuminating the street with blinding light. The ground quaked as the explosion of mana engulfed Elsa, the shockwave scattering debris in every direction.

Felt instinctively threw herself over Rom, shielding the giant with her small frame as the blast rippled past them. When the dust finally settled, Reinhard stood at the center of the devastation, Subaru’s dagger in his hand. The once-pristine weapon was chipped and riddled with cracks, a testament to the overwhelming power it had unleashed.

For a moment, all was silent, save for the faint groans of the wounded and the distant crackle of flames.

“That… was incredible,” Felt murmured, her wide eyes fixed on Reinhard.

The Sword Saint lowered the damaged blade, his piercing gaze fixed on where Elsa had been standing moments before.

“I expected you to give up. You did well; your craftsman should be proud,” Reinhard said, inspecting the dagger. Though still intact, it was clearly beyond use, riddled with cracks from the sheer power it had unleashed.

“Is it over?” Felt asked hesitantly, her eyes darting around. The street bore the scars of their battle, with a massive crater where the Bowel Hunter had once stood.

“I… I think so,” Emilia replied, her voice trembling as the tension began to ebb away.

Reinhard approached, his calm presence grounding the chaotic scene. “They look like they’re in rough shape,” he said, gesturing to Subaru and Rom, “but I believe they’ll survive.”

Turning to Emilia, Reinhard’s gaze softened. “Lady Emilia, may I ask why you’re here in the slums of all places?”

Emilia hesitated, glancing toward Felt before responding. “Well… this young lady stole something of value from me,” she admitted. “Her brother—Subaru—led me here to retrieve it. I don’t want her to get in trouble; I just want my item returned.”

Reinhard’s sharp blue eyes shifted between Subaru and Felt, assessing them. Felt tensed under his scrutiny, but the Sword Saint’s expression softened. “In my official capacity, I cannot overlook theft,” he said, his tone formal. Felt flinched, her fists clenching. “However,” he continued with a faint smile, “it is my day off, so I suppose I can overlook my official duties for now.”

Emilia let out a surprised laugh. “You’re a bad knight.”

“That’s a little hurtful,” Reinhard replied with a chuckle, his good-natured demeanor diffusing the tension in the air.

“I suppose… I should give it back then,” Felt said, wiping the tears from her eyes. Her voice was heavy with guilt. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the insignia, holding it out toward Emilia. “Just keep it hidden so someone else doesn’t try to nab it.”

Reinhard’s demeanor changed the instant his eyes fell on the insignia, the faint glow emanating from its gem catching his attention. His hand shot out, gripping Felt’s wrist like iron. “How can this be?” he murmured, his tone sharp and disbelieving.

“You’re hurting me! Let go!” Felt cried, tugging at her arm, but Reinhard’s grip was unyielding.

“What is your name?” he demanded, his voice firm.

“What? Ouch! It’s Felt!” she snapped, punching his arm in an attempt to break free. “Now let me go!”

“Your family name, and your age?” Reinhard pressed, his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers.

“I don’t have a fancy family name, and I’m nearly fifteen!” Felt barked, still struggling. “What’s it to you? Let me go!”

“Reinhard, what’s going on?” Emilia asked, her voice tinged with concern at the knight’s sudden shift in behavior.

Reinhard didn’t release Felt, his expression grave. “Lady Emilia, I apologize, but I must take this girl with me.”

“If this is about the insignia,” Emilia began hesitantly, “as long as it’s returned—”

“Stealing such an item is indeed a crime,” Reinhard interrupted, his voice calm but resolute. “However, my reasons are far more complex. There is a greater matter at hand, and ignoring it would be unforgivable.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Felt shouted, her defiance unwavering. “Not when my family’s hurt!”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you to refuse,” Reinhard said firmly. A moment later, he raised his free hand, and Felt slumped unconscious in his arms. He carefully took the insignia and placed it into Emilia’s palm.

“That wasn’t very knightly,” Emilia noted, frowning.

“She is unharmed. I merely put her to sleep,” Reinhard replied. “Lady Emilia, I will contact you soon. For now, I must confirm my suspicions.”

“What about these two?” Emilia asked, gesturing toward Subaru and Rom.

Reinhard looked at Subaru for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. “The smith Conrad indicated they are siblings. What do you know?”

“Subaru told me they’re not blood-related. More like family by circumstance,” Emilia clarified uncertainly.

“I see. I can see that they are treated at the Guard Station by healers,” Reinhard said. “But until I am certain of my suspicions, I can promise nothing more.”

“This man saved my life,” Emilia insisted, her voice firm. “I know he will be well taken care of under Lord Roswaal’s care. I can also take the giant with me—the three of them seem close.”

Reinhard considered her words for a moment before nodding. “Very well. If my suspicions are confirmed, I will return for them both. Until then, ensure their safety.” He bowed deeply. “I will send for a carriage for transport.”

In a flash, the Sword Saint was gone, leaving Emilia to process the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded.

Chapter 5: ARC 1 - Chapter 4: Sign Here

ARC I

---

Chapter IV:

Sign Here

---

“Wake up, son.”

Subaru groaned as his eyes fluttered open, finding Rom standing over him. Relief washed over him at the sight of the old man, alive and well. As he tried to sit up, he noticed the mattress beneath him was soft and comfortable—a rare luxury he hadn’t experienced since coming to this world.

“Rom?” Subaru rubbed his eyes, taking in their surroundings. The room was lavish, clearly not part of the slums. “Where are we?”

“The manor of Roswaal L. Mathers,” Rom replied, his tone thick with distaste. He sat in a chair that looked comically undersized for his massive frame.

The next question came naturally. “Where’s Felt?”

Rom let out a heavy sigh, his frustration evident. “We were both out cold—probably half-dead—when we were brought here. From what I’ve been told by that half-elf girl, the Sword Saint, Reinhard, took her with him after dealing with that butcher woman.”

Subaru frowned. “That explains why we’re not dead.” The pieces began falling into place. Reinhard had shown up? Why? It was all so confusing, but the important thing was that they were alive. “Where did that bastard take her?” he asked, his tone hardening.

“Not sure,” Rom admitted. “The girl said Reinhard mentioned he’d be coming back for us.”

“Screw that!” Subaru threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, determined to act. “We need to go find her!”

Before he could stand, Rom placed a firm hand on his shoulder, gently but effectively stopping him. “I get how you feel, son, I really do,” Rom said, his voice steady. “I’m as uncomfortable here as you are. Hell, I tried to sneak out the moment I woke up, but Lord Roswaal stopped me. We had… a chat.”

“A chat?” Subaru raised an eyebrow. “What the hell did he want?”

“Said he owed you a debt, and part of repaying it was making sure we both got better,” Rom explained, crossing his arms. “Promised we’d see Felt soon. Swore it up and down. I don’t trust the guy, but I don’t think he was lying, either.”

Subaru clenched his fists. “So what? We just sit around here and wait for the Sword Saint to show up? For all we know, he’s locked Felt up for stealing whatever it was from Emilia!”

“I get it, but going up against someone like him is a terrible idea,” Rom said firmly. “If Reinhard is coming to take us to Felt, then the smart move is to wait. No point rocking the boat—not yet, anyway.”

Subaru scowled, his frustration boiling over. Everything about this situation felt wrong. He was in a strange lord’s manor with no clue where Felt was or what Reinhard’s intentions were. “Damn it all,” he muttered.

Rom watched him quietly, sympathy flickering in his eyes but tempered by pragmatism. “We’ll figure it out, kid. But for now, we play it safe.”

Subaru got up, and this time, Rom didn’t move to stop him. Though he felt a bit lethargic, he otherwise seemed fine. On a side table, he noticed a fresh set of clothes—an elegant white collared shirt and black trousers. The fabric was far finer than anything he could have afforded in his previous life, let alone as an apprentice in Lugunica.

Slipping out of his robe, Subaru pulled on the clothes, relishing the softness of the material against his skin. “I’m going to have a look around,” he said, stretching.

“I think I’ll be going back to my room,” Rom replied, standing with a groan. “I don’t particularly want to get caught up with this lot.”

Subaru nodded, understanding the old man’s reluctance. Part of him felt the same, but curiosity got the better of him. Emilia, Roswaal, and the supposed debt owed to him all lingered in his thoughts. “I’ll be back. I’m starving, at any rate.”

With that, Subaru left Rom to his solitude and ventured into the manor.

The halls were breathtakingly elegant, more lavish than anything Subaru had ever encountered, whether in Lugunica or even in Japan. Every detail, from the polished floors to the intricate carvings adorning the walls, spoke of artisans who must have been paid handsomely for their work.

As he wandered, the scale of the building began to feel overwhelming. It seemed to stretch on endlessly. Out of curiosity, Subaru opened the nearest door, wondering if all these rooms were simply bed chambers.

To his surprise, the door led to a vast library. Rows upon rows of shelves stretched high into the air, each packed with books. The collection was so extensive it had to be worth more than he could earn in a hundred lifetimes at Conrad’s forge.

“What do you want, I suppose?”

The voice snapped Subaru back to the present. Looking toward the center of the room, he saw a petite girl seated with a large book in hand. A tea set rested on a side table next to her. She looked to be shorter than Felt, with cream-blonde hair styled into spiraling twin tails tipped in pink. Most striking were her eyes—blue with pink, butterfly-shaped irises that practically shimmered.

Subaru wasn’t sure, but he guessed she might be a spirit, or perhaps a rare form of demi-human.

“Oh, I think I’m a bit lost,” Subaru said, forcing a chuckle. “I was brought here by Emilia. I just woke up and was looking for the kitchen.”

“This is the Forbidden Library, not the kitchen, I suppose,” the girl huffed, her tone curt.

“Right… I can see that.” Subaru glanced around again, noting the sheer scale of the room. Forbidden, huh? That probably meant he wasn’t supposed to be here. “I’m Natsuki Subaru, by the way. And you are?”

The girl regarded him with an unimpressed look, her expression unchanging. “I am Beatrice, guardian of this place, I suppose.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Subaru said, giving a polite bow.

“Hmm,” Beatrice regarded him critically before tilting her head slightly. “You’re not so bad, I suppose.”

“Thank you?” Subaru replied, unsure how to interpret her remark. She was a guardian of sorts, and if she truly was a spirit capable of manifesting a physical form, she must have been powerful. It was probably best to stay on her good side. “Might I trouble you for directions to the kitchen from here?”

“No.”

“No?” Subaru blinked, caught off guard.

“No,” Beatrice repeated flatly.

“Why not?” he asked, now thoroughly confused.

“The library moves,” she replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You must have been lucky to find it, I suppose.”

“Moves? You mean it’s not in a fixed location?” Subaru scratched his head. “What is it, some kind of pocket dimension?”

“You’re not entirely wrong, I suppose,” Beatrice admitted, though her tone suggested she was growing annoyed with the conversation.

“Well, since you can’t point me in the right direction, I guess I should leave you to your… guarding duties,” Subaru said, chuckling to himself as he made his way to the exit. “Live strong, okay?”

“Live strong?” Beatrice echoed, momentarily puzzled. After a pause, she dismissed the remark and returned to her book.

Subaru stepped out and closed the door behind him. A sudden curiosity took hold, and he opened the door again a second later. True to her word, the library was gone. In its place stood a simple storage room filled with crates and spare furnishings.

The manor was eerily empty. For all its sprawling halls and countless rooms, Subaru hadn’t come across another soul. After wandering for what felt like ages, he finally caught the scent of something cooking. Following his nose to the ground floor, the aroma of stew and simmering meat made his stomach growl loudly.

Stepping into the kitchen, Subaru spotted a young woman in a maid’s uniform, her blue hair matching her calm, piercing eyes. She was peeling a potato with practiced ease, but as soon as he entered, her gaze shifted to him.

“Oh, our guest is awake,” the maid said in a measured tone.

“Yeah,” Subaru replied, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry, I was looking for something to eat. The only person I ran into was the librarian, Beatrice.”

“Oh? You met Miss Beatrice. How interesting,” the maid remarked with a faint tilt of her head.

“Yeah, I’m Subaru, by the way. And you are?” he asked with a friendly smile.

“I am Rem, one of the maids serving my master, Roswaal L. Mathers,” she replied, offering a polite curtsy.

“Nice to meet you, Rem,” Subaru said, relieved to finally find someone. Her composed demeanor put him at ease. “I’m starving, though.”

“You’re hungry?” Rem asked, her eyes briefly scanning him. “I can arrange to have something brought to your room, if you’d like.”

“I’d be fine just eating here,” Subaru said with a shrug. “No need to fuss.”

Rem considered his request for a moment before turning to the pot of stew. She ladled some into a bowl and placed it on a tray alongside a slice of bread and cheese. “You may eat where you wish,” she said, setting the tray on the counter.

Subaru thanked Rem and found a small table in the corner of the kitchen to eat. The stew was delectable, as expected from a grand manor like this. If Lord Roswaal didn’t have good food, Subaru thought, that would have been a shock.

Draining the last of the bowl, Subaru leaned back and caught Rem glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She quickly averted her gaze when their eyes met. For a moment, Subaru wondered if she was interested in him, but something about the look unsettled him. It reminded him of the slums—those predatory stares from gang members, silently assessing whether you’d be worth robbing… or worse.

Before he could dwell on it, a new voice cut through the air. “Oh, our guest is here, Rem.”

Subaru turned to see another maid entering the kitchen. She was almost identical to Rem, except for her pink hair and a less impressive bust. Her expression was sharp and calculating.

“There he is, Ram,” Rem replied.

The pink-haired maid studied Subaru with a neutral gaze. “I see. And who might you be?” she asked flatly.

Subaru stood, offering his hand with a polite smile. “I’m Subaru. Natsuki Subaru.”

Ram shook his hand, her grip surprisingly firm for someone with such a slight build. “I am Ram,” she said curtly.

“Well, nice to meet you both,” Subaru said, setting his tray aside.

“Leave it,” Rem interjected, her voice soft yet oddly firm. “It would be rude of us to let you deal with dishes. You are Lord Roswaal’s guest.”

Subaru hesitated. Something about her tone felt off—too sweet, almost as if it were masking something else. Still, he decided to go along with it. “Well, I wouldn’t want to scorn your hospitality,” he said, setting the tray back down. “Thanks for the meal.”

He nodded to both maids, forcing a smile. “I think I’ll go for a walk. Excuse me.”

As he turned and left the kitchen, Subaru couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that both pairs of eyes were lingering on him longer than they should have.

What was that about? Did I do something uncouth? Subaru wondered as he found a door leading outside. Maybe it was the fact that I had a meal in the kitchen? I don’t know anything about proper etiquette when visiting a noble.

Stepping outside, Subaru took in the breathtaking view of the manor’s exterior. The gardens were as elegant as the interior, with finely tended hedges, intricate fountains, and several gazebos scattered about for lounging. The scene reminded him of pictures he’d seen as a child of French Châteaus. Of course. Nobility always spends their wealth on vanity projects. Lord Roswaal seems to be cut from the same cloth.

As he strolled through the gardens, Subaru caught sight of the unmistakable silver hair of Emilia. He hesitated, debating how much he should get involved with her. After all, his main objective was to stay here with Rom until Reinhard brought them to Felt—or until he could figure out a way to free her himself.

Before he could decide, Emilia turned and spotted him. A warm smile spread across her face as she ran over to him. “Oh, thank goodness! You’re finally awake. I was beginning to worry.”

“Oh, thanks,” Subaru said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I should be thanking you, though—for helping me.”

“No, I’m the one who should be grateful,” Emilia replied, her cheeks flushing slightly. “If it weren’t for you, I probably would have been killed by that assassin, Elsa. You were only hurt so badly because you got in the way of her blade.”

“Well… I just acted without thinking. I’m no hero or anything,” Subaru admitted. Truthfully, his priority at the time had been to buy Felt enough time to escape, but he kept that thought to himself.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Subaru,” a disembodied voice chimed in. A moment later, Puck materialized on Emilia’s shoulder, smirking. “If it weren’t for you, Lia could’ve been seriously hurt. So, you’re a hero in my book!”

“We’re both very grateful,” Emilia added, scratching the spirit on the head affectionately.

Subaru chuckled, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, I’ll take your thanks. I just hope Felt is okay. Why exactly did Reinhard take her?”

“I’m not sure,” Emilia confessed, her expression becoming more serious. “It seemed important, given how serious he looked. But from what I know about him, I don’t think she’s in any danger.”

“How well do you know him, though?” Subaru asked, his skepticism evident.

“We’re only acquaintances,” Emilia admitted. “But he’s always struck me as someone who’s just and kind. I don’t believe he’d do anything to hurt her.”

Subaru wasn’t entirely reassured, but for now, he decided to stick to Rom’s advice and wait. For now.

“Do you mind if I ask… what exactly did Felt take? I mean, it must have been important for things to escalate like they did,” Subaru asked, curiosity clear in his tone.

Emilia hesitated, her thoughtful expression softening as she glanced toward Puck.

“I don’t sense any malice in him,” Puck said with a casual shrug. “I think it’s fine.”

“It was… an insignia,” Emilia finally said.

“An insignia?” Subaru echoed.

“Yes,” she nodded. “It was given to me by Lord Roswaal. You see, it signifies that I am…” she hesitated, the words heavy, “one of the candidates to become the next ruler of Lugunica.”

Subaru blinked, her words taking a moment to sink in. Like everyone in the capital, he’d heard of the royal family’s tragic demise. The entire Lugunica bloodline had been wiped out by a mysterious illness, leaving the nation in turmoil. For months, there had been whispers of political unrest and fears that the Sacred Vollachia Empire might exploit the chaos and invade. And now, here stood a half-elf claiming to be a candidate for the throne.

“You… you’re a candidate for the throne?” Subaru asked, his voice tinged with skepticism, though not intentionally.

“You don’t approve?” Emilia asked, her tone soft but edged with hurt.

“I didn’t say that,” Subaru quickly clarified, waving his hands slightly. “I don’t know you well enough to say if I would or not. It’s just… well…”

“I’m a half-elf,” Emilia finished for him, her amethyst eyes steady.

Subaru hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Yes. I don’t personally have anything against half-elves, but the reality is… most people are wary. Especially considering, well… your silver hair.”

The words hung in the air, unspoken but understood: her resemblance to the Witch of Envy. It was an undeniable stigma, one Subaru knew would make her path to the throne a difficult one.

“I get that, I do,” Emilia said softly, her fingers idly twirling a strand of her silver hair. “But if people could just see the real me…”

“That’s unrealistic,” Subaru interjected, his tone firm but not unkind. “The average citizen of Lugunica couldn’t tell you anything about their local noble, let alone the ones actually running the country. I couldn’t even name a single member of that Council of Wise Men who’s supposedly in charge. People are going to mistrust you. All they care about is whether bread stays cheap and they’re kept safe. Give them that, and they’ll love you. But the moment that security goes away? They’ll turn on you like wolves.”

Emilia’s hopeful expression faltered slightly as she processed his words. “Are people really so cruel?” she asked, her voice tinged with sadness.

“This world is cruel,” Subaru replied, his gaze distant. “I know that better than most. Even then, I was still better off than a lot of people where I grew up. The fact that I have… well… had a job as a smith in the artisan district proves that.”

“He’s got a point, Lia,” Puck interjected, floating lazily beside her. “It’s not like people are going to accept us out of the kindness of their hearts. But I have no doubt you’ll be up to the task of winning them over!” He gave her a playful paw-up.

Emilia smiled at Puck’s encouragement, but her expression shifted as realization dawned. “Wait, you said had a job?” she repeated, tilting her head in concern.

“Conrad’s a good man,” Subaru admitted with a sigh. “But if he hasn’t heard from me by now, he’s probably already looking for a new apprentice. That kind of work isn’t something you can do alone. And the world? It doesn’t wait for anyone, no matter how good their intentions are.”

He paused, his mind wandering to Rom’s loot house. He hoped it would be fine in his absence. Rom rarely left, and most people in the slums weren’t foolish enough to cross him. But if Subaru was gone too long, someone might muster the courage to snoop around.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emilia said softly. “I feel bad knowing this whole thing may have cost you your job.”

“I’ve got smithing experience now,” Subaru sighed. “I’m sure I can find work somewhere.”

“Miss Emilia, guest Subaru,” a voice interrupted. Looking over, Subaru saw Ram standing a few feet away, her expression as neutral as ever. “Lord Roswaal would like to invite you both to have tea with him in the dining hall.”

The dining hall, when they arrived, was as vast and opulent as the rest of the manor. Elegant paintings lined the walls, each one looking as if it cost more than Subaru’s entire livelihood. The furniture was intricate, the table large enough to seat dozens, and everything seemed polished to perfection.

Part of Subaru wanted to scoff at the extravagance—it was hard not to in the face of such opulence. Yet another part of him begrudgingly acknowledged the artistry and craftsmanship behind it all. A place like this, while undeniably indulgent, must have provided work and sustenance to countless artisans and laborers. Still, the sheer scale of luxury stirred a pang of envy he didn’t want to admit.

“Where is Bubby, I suppose?”

The voice drew his attention to a small figure standing in the corner of the room. Beatrice stood with her arms crossed, her expression huffy as she glanced at Subaru. She reminded him of a child searching for her favorite stuffed animal.

“Right here, Betty,” Puck chirped, materializing from Emilia’s shoulder.

“Bubby!!!” Beatrice’s eyes lit up as she ran toward Puck, catching the fluffy spirit as he flew into her arms. “Can you stay with me for the day?” she asked, her tone brimming with hope.

“I don’t see why not,” Puck replied, settling into her embrace as she giggled, rubbing his fur against her cheek with unabashed glee.

“There you are, son.”

The familiar gruff voice pulled Subaru from his thoughts. Turning, he saw Rom entering the dining hall, trailing behind Rem, whose calm expression betrayed no hint of emotion.

“Surprised to see you joining for tea, old man,” Subaru remarked, raising an eyebrow.

Rom snorted, folding his arms. “Listen, son, this Lord Roswaal isn’t inviting us for tea just to be polite. I’m not missing out on whatever he’s up to.”

Subaru couldn’t disagree. Having Rom there felt like a safety net, just in case. Emilia seemed earnest, but she might be too naïve about how the nobility operated—or worse, completely unaware of any darker dealings behind the scenes.

“Ahhh, so our guests are all here,” a sing-song voice rang out from behind them. Turning, Subaru saw a man enter, dressed in a flamboyant uniform that made the grandeur of the dining hall seem tame by comparison.

The stranger wore a split dark-and-light purple formal coat and trousers with red accents, paired with a long flared cape. His face was heavily painted with white makeup, accented by purple eyeshadow and lipstick. Most striking of all was his mismatched, monochrome eyes—one blue, matching his hair, and the other a striking yellow that mirrored his dangling earrings.

Subaru stared, his mind racing to piece together who—or what—this man could be. With such an outlandish appearance, he had to be either the lord of the manor or its resident jester.

“Welcome, welcome!” the man said theatrically, spreading his arms wide in an exaggerated flourish. “I am Roswaal L. Mathers, your gracious host. Please, do make yourselves comfortable!”

Of course. Subaru suppressed a sigh. It would be the lord of the manor.

Subaru thanked Rem as she poured him a cup of tea. The small, delicate teacup looked almost comical in Rom’s large hands as he carefully accepted his own with a curt nod. Taking a sip, Subaru savored the luxurious flavor. It was the kind of tea he figured could ruin everything else he’d taste in the future—ordinary drinks would pale in comparison to what Roswaal likely considered commonplace.

“So, I am told you’re the one who helped save our dear Emilia?” Roswaal leaned forward, his mismatched eyes fixed keenly on Subaru.

“Saved might be a strong way to put it,” Subaru said, glancing at Rom, who seemed more focused on balancing the fragile teacup in his oversized hands than on the conversation.

“As Puck said, you shouldn’t be so modest,” Emilia chimed in with a warm smile.

“See? We all agree!” Roswaal clapped his hands together, his flamboyant demeanor making the simple gesture feel theatrical. “You risked your life to help our dear Emilia!”

“What about Rom? He stepped in too,” Subaru countered, gesturing to the giant of a man.

“I was only there for you and Felt,” Rom said gruffly, his focus still on the tea as though afraid he might shatter the dainty cup if he gripped it too tightly.

“Still, you helped,” Emilia nodded, her tone appreciative.

Roswaal tilted his head, smirking. “On another topic, Subaru… how much do you know about our Lady Emilia’s standing in the nation?”

“We talked about it earlier in the garden,” Subaru replied, setting down his cup.

“Ahhh, very good then!” Roswaal said, his smirk widening. “As her backer, I feel obligated to give you something of value in return for making sure she returned to us safe and sound.” He gestured grandly. “After all, she is above me in status, and it’s only proper that I ensure you are adequately rewarded for such a noble act!”

“Give?” Subaru arched a skeptical eyebrow. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“Anything within my power,” Roswaal replied with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “Within reason, of course.”

Anything? Subaru thought. His mind raced. He could ask for a sack of holy gold coins, enough to secure a future for himself, Rom, and Felt far from the slums. It wouldn’t even make a dent in the wealth of a man like Roswaal. All he needed to do was ask, and the life they dreamed of could be theirs.

“Hold on,” Rom interjected, his voice cutting through Subaru’s thoughts. “I know you. You’re the Court Mage, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” Roswaal admitted with a smile, the glint in his eyes suggesting he enjoyed the recognition.

 

“Court Mage? Wait… I should have guessed—you’re the Clown Noble!” Subaru blurted out, realization dawning on him. He had heard the term often enough in the slums, though he had never put a face to the name. The slums had colorful nicknames for the more prominent nobles, and a noble who dressed like a clown was a prime target for ridicule.

The use of the nickname made Ram visibly bristle, but Roswaal simply laughed, his tone indulgent. “Ah yes, I’ve been called that by the more… creative minds of our nation.”

“Sorry,” Subaru muttered, realizing too late that he probably should have kept the comment to himself.

“It’s no trouble,” Roswaal assured him with a dismissive wave before turning his attention to Rom, who had been quietly studying the flamboyant noble. “You have a question, I believe?”

Rom’s gruff voice cut through the conversation. “I know you’re a power player, so what do you want with us? Don’t try to tell me this is just about repaying a debt.”

Roswaal’s smirk widened. “It really can be that simple. I’m not fond of owing too many debts. However, I’ll admit, it also doesn’t hurt to help Lady Emilia spread goodwill in your community by ensuring her gratitude is properly displayed.”

“How much do you know about magic?” Subaru interjected, his curiosity overriding the tension.

“All there is to know,” Roswaal replied matter-of-factly, his tone carrying an air of undeniable authority. “You might say I am the foremost expert on the subject in this world.”

Subaru didn’t sense any arrogance in his response, just confidence born of fact. That made it all the more compelling.

Some things are more valuable than gold, Subaru thought to himself.

“I recently lost my job as a smith apprentice,” Subaru began, the wheels in his mind turning. “Magic is a skill more valuable than any artisan craft. A smith who knows magic can create enchanted items, something far beyond what any regular craftsman can achieve.”

“This is so,” Roswaal confirmed with a nod.

“I want you to teach me magic, at least until I am good enough to apply those skills to my work,” Subaru said finally, his tone steady but resolute. He met Roswaal’s multicolored gaze, unflinching. Forget the sack of gold, he thought to himself. With that kind of knowledge, I could earn enough money to build a manor of my own.

“Subaru… be careful,” Rom said firmly.

“Ah, so you wish to be taken under my wing? How interesting. Most in your position might ask for wealth or land, but you want something… more enduring than that, do you?” Roswaal chuckled.

“I already know how to use my gate to enhance my physical body—that alone was hard enough to learn. I know magic isn’t easy for most people, but mage colleges are only accessible to the elite. On top of that, only a small number of people can even use magic in the first place,” Subaru said firmly. “If I don’t have any magical ability, I’m sure you could tell right away.”

“Interesting,” Roswaal mused, his excitement barely contained. “That said, if I am to take you on as my apprentice, you must understand: I will require much from you. As you are well aware, my skills are exceedingly valuable. Many have sought to learn from me over the years, yet you would be my first student in all my long life, Subaru!”

“So, what’s the catch?” Rom asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I would require you to enter into a contract with me—not just a simple agreement on paper, mind you, but a magical bond between master and apprentice,” Roswaal said, leaning forward with a sly smile.

“A… contract?” Subaru asked, unease creeping into his voice. Deals with nobles were one thing; a magical contract was entirely another.

“Yes, this is common among high-level mages,” Roswaal elaborated. “We guard many secrets, and our skills are highly coveted. The contract will be written out on paper and reinforced with a magical seal. Once we both sign, the bond will take effect. This could be done purely through magic, but I suspect neither you nor your friend would trust such an invisible arrangement.”

Rom remained skeptical, his expression hard. Subaru, however, mulled it over. “I’ll agree to anything you write down—as long as Rom approves of it.”

“Son… you sure about this?” Rom asked, his tone cautious.

“I trust your judgment, Rom. If something looks off, I won’t sign it. I promise.”

Roswaal’s smile widened as he flicked his wrist. A piece of paper materialized out of thin air, landing gracefully in his hand. “Here, you may read it over at your leisure.”

He had a contract ready? Subaru’s mind raced as he glanced at the document. Was this planned, or just something Roswaal could conjure at will?

Rom held the paper between them, scanning the text carefully. The conditions seemed straightforward:

---

The signee of this contract commits to the following:

1. The signee will remain as the apprentice of Roswaal L. Mathers until he determines their training is complete. Completion is subject to the discretion of Roswaal L. Mathers.
2. The signee will act as a member of the Roswaal household and will be under the authority of Roswaal L. Mathers and his superiors as long as they are his apprentice.
3. The signee may not impart any secrets taught to them without the written or verbal consent of Roswaal L. Mathers, for as long as his spirit remains in this world.

---

“Seems fairly standard,” Rom said, scratching his head as he scrutinized the document. 

Subaru folded his arms. “Reinhard is coming to collect us and take us back to Felt. I need to see her.”

“That might be some time from now,” Roswaal replied, his smile never faltering. “Besides, I’m sure you trust your friend to ensure her safety. I am not a cruel man—I would, of course, allow you to visit your friend whenever necessary!”

“I want to ensure that no matter what trouble Felt might have gotten herself into, you’ll ensure she’s not punished. As the Court Mage, you should be able to make that happen, right?” Subaru pressed.

Roswaal’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “I give you my word. Would you prefer it written into our contract?”

“Yes,” Subaru replied without hesitation.

At a flick of Roswaal’s wrist, the changes appeared seamlessly on the parchment. Subaru read over the newly added clause:

---

4. At the request of a signee, any crimes or alleged crimes committed by the individual known as “Felt,” as intended by the signee, shall be protected from legal action against her by the state or any third party as far as the power of Roswaal L. Mathers can manage.

---

Subaru exhaled slowly, nodding to himself. The amendment ensured Felt would be safe—at least from legal repercussions—and it was a weight off his shoulders. He couldn’t protect her directly while bound to this apprenticeship, but this clause provided a safety net. She’d understand his absence if it meant building a better future for all of them.

“What do you think?” Subaru turned to Rom.

Rom scrutinized the document one last time, his eyes narrowing as he fixed his gaze on Roswaal. “I don’t see anything overtly malicious, at least not on the surface. That said, this means you’ll be working for this man, directly and indirectly. You’re essentially putting your future in his hands, kid.” Rom paused, his tone turning serious. “I wouldn’t sign anything unless I knew I could trust the person offering it.”

Subaru stared at the contract, his mind racing. He didn’t know Roswaal well enough to gauge his true intentions, and Rom’s warning weighed heavily on him. Yet, he couldn’t ignore the opportunity staring him in the face. A chance to learn magic, a skill so rare it could change the trajectory of his entire life.

Roswaal had taken them into his home, treated them as guests, and was aiding Emilia—who, as far as Subaru could tell, was a genuinely good person.

“Emilia, what do you think of Roswaal?” Subaru asked, his voice measured.

The half-elf, who had been quietly observing the exchange, seemed taken aback by the sudden question. “Oh… um… well…” she began, fiddling with a strand of her silver hair. “Roswaal has been more than generous to Puck and me. I know he’s backing me for the throne, and he has a reputation for being friendly with demi-humans. But I’ve only known him for a few months, so I can’t say much more than that.”

“Do you trust him?” Subaru pressed, his gaze unwavering.

Emilia hesitated, her amethyst eyes shifting slightly as though weighing her words carefully. It was clear she felt the weight of his question. “I… I think so,” she said at last, her tone tentative but sincere.

Subaru clenched his fists, feeling the enormity of the decision pressing down on him. This was a turning point—an opportunity he might never encounter again. He inhaled deeply, steadying himself, before lifting his head with newfound resolve.

“Give me a pen,” Subaru said, his voice resolute.

Roswaal smirked, and Subaru couldn’t shake the feeling that the man had just won some kind of unseen battle. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the thought nagged at him nonetheless.

At Roswaal’s gesture, Rem stepped forward. From a drawer on the serving cart used to serve tea, she retrieved an ornate quill and a bottle of ink. Setting them before Subaru with practiced precision, she paused, casting him another long, lingering look. Her gaze unsettled him, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Taking the quill, Subaru hesitated for only a moment longer. This was it—the point of no return. Pushing aside his doubts, he bent over the contract and neatly wrote “Natsuki Subaru” in the language of Lugunica, a skill he had learned from Rom in his younger years.

Once finished, Rem picked up the contract with her usual grace and handed it to Roswaal. The Court Mage signed his name with a flourish, the quill gliding effortlessly across the page. As soon as his pen left the parchment, the document glowed faintly, and Subaru felt a small pulse of mana ripple through him. The contract was sealed. There was no turning back now.

“It’s done!” Roswaal declared with a theatrical clap of his hands. “Congratulations, my dear apprentice, on becoming the first and only student of the Court Mage of Lugunica!”

The weight of the moment sank into Subaru. This single act had the potential to change the course of his life entirely.

“We begin your training tomorrow,” Roswaal said, his smile widening.

Subaru took a deep breath, nodding. “Tomorrow, then…”

Chapter 6: ARC 1 - Chapter 5: Ouch, My Ear!

ARC I

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Chapter V:

Ouch, My Ear!

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Felt yawned as a ray of sunshine streaked across her face. She felt more relaxed than she ever had in her life. Whatever this feeling was, it was strange. The smoothness of the sheets, the softness of the mattress—it was all so foreign that for a moment she thought she must have been dreaming.

Nothing can be THIS comfortable, right? she thought groggily.

Then it hit her—the events that had unfolded before she passed out. Fighting the Bowel Hunter, Elsa. Rom and Subaru half-dead. Her eyes snapped open as panic surged through her, and she bolted upright in bed.

Looking around, she realized immediately that she was not in the slums. The room was ornate, with polished furniture, heavy velvet curtains, and a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It was as far from her dingy shack as anything could possibly be. The large four-post bed she found herself in was covered in silk sheets and plush pillows—nothing like the scratchy straw bed Subaru had cobbled together for her.

Then the next realization hit her. She was naked under the silk sheets.

Blushing furiously, she yanked the covers tightly around her body, her mind racing. Who undressed me?!

She sniffed her skin, noting with both shock and confusion that she smelled… clean. Cleaner than she had ever felt in her life. Almost unnaturally so. A delicate floral scent clung to her skin. Was I bathed too? Why do I smell like flowers?!

Her fists clenched the sheets tighter as her face burned with embarrassment. This place, the pampering—it all felt wrong, out of place for someone like her. “Where the hell am I?” she muttered to herself, her voice shaky.

Reinhard. The realization hit her like a slap to the face. The last thing she remembered was him grabbing her arm, and then… nothing. This had to be his doing.

“I swear, I’m going to kick his ass!” she growled, clutching the silk sheet tighter around herself.

Pulling the luxurious fabric around her like a makeshift toga, Felt slung herself out of the bed and stumbled to the window. Looking out, she saw that she was on the third floor of an elegant manor. Beyond the small garden below, she recognized the telltale signs of the Royal District in the capital. Felt had seen the area plenty of times before but had always avoided it. It was the most heavily patrolled part of the city, and for someone like her, the risks far outweighed any potential rewards from pilfering its rich residents.

Cracking the window open, she eyed the drop to the garden below. If she timed it right, she might be able to leap down without hurting herself too badly. The sheet would offer some modesty until she could find Rom or Subaru—or better yet, both.

Her plans were cut short by a hard knock on the door that made her jump. Wheeling around, she barely had time to react before the door swung open. Two identical girls with pink hair stepped into the room. They were shorter than Felt by a head, and while their hair was nearly identical, one leaned more peach-toned. Their synchronized movements and the calm but unnerving expressions on their faces made Felt’s unease grow.

“Good morning,” they said in unison, bowing slightly.

“Uh… good morning?” Felt replied hesitantly, pulling the sheet tighter around her.

“We came to wake you,” said the one with brighter pink hair.

“But you appear to be awake already,” finished the peachy-haired twin.

Felt blinked at them. “Well… umm… do you know where my clothes are?”

“They have been seen to,” Peach said.

“We have come to get you dressed and ready for the day,” Pink finished.

“Thanks, but I can dress myself,” Felt scoffed, her voice sharp with irritation.

“I doubt that,” Pink said bluntly, her tone unwavering.

“We have had your dress prepared,” Peach added with a hint of finality.

“D-dress?!” Felt stammered, her cheeks heating with anger. “No, no, no! I am not putting on a dress! Just give me my own clothes!”

“Your previous garments were deemed… unfit,” Pink replied curtly.

Felt was fuming. She had been kidnapped by Reinhard, stripped naked, bathed, and was now being told to wear a dress. Every part of her screamed in protest. “You had no right! That scarf was a gift from Subaru!” she snapped, her voice shaking with anger.

“If it is so important,” Peach began calmly.

“We will ensure it is cleaned and stored carefully,” Pink finished her tone just as measured.

Felt glared at the two of them, her fists tightening around the sheet. She wanted to shove past them, run out of the room, and never look back. But the thought of escaping to find her family stopped her. If wearing a fancy dress could help her blend in or gain access to places she couldn’t otherwise, maybe it wasn’t the worst thing. She didn’t want to lose the scarf, but there was no telling where it was now.

“Fine, I’ll wear your stupid dress, but I don’t like it!” she snapped, crossing her arms in defeat.

Nodding, the twins moved with mechanical precision. From the wardrobe, they retrieved a frilly blue dress adorned with white and black accents. Felt’s stomach churned at the sight of it. She would have preferred running through the city naked over being squeezed into something so absurdly extravagant. Still, the twins were relentless, guiding her into the outfit and adjusting every detail. Felt squirmed at the unfamiliar fabric, wincing at every tug and adjustment, and earning more than a few scolding remarks from the twins.

The moment I get the chance, I’m ripping this damn thing off! Felt thought, biting her tongue to keep from lashing out further. She could practically hear Subaru’s laughter in her head if he ever saw her in something like this. It was a sight she would make sure he never got to witness.

“Are we done now?” she asked irritably once the twins finally stepped away.

“Here,” Pink said in unison with Peach as they placed a pair of yellow high heels on the floor in front of her.

“Heels?” Felt balked, staring at the shoes like they were poisonous. “Oh, I do not do heels.”

The twins didn’t respond, their blank expressions making it clear her objections were irrelevant. She could feel her temper rising again, but there was no point in fighting them. She bent down to grab the shoes, muttering under her breath, “I swear, when this is all sorted out, I’m going to kick that bastard Reinhard in the balls!”

Felt stumbled awkwardly as she put on the heels, grinding her teeth in frustration. How that insane Bowel Hunter could fight in something this ridiculous was beyond her. “I hate this,” she muttered under her breath, wobbling as she tried to walk in them.

“Does the lady require anything else?” Pink asked, her tone devoid of emotion.

“No,” Felt said sharply. “I want to be left alone… I need to figure out these damn things!”

The twins bowed in unison and left the room without another word. Felt waited a moment, ensuring they were gone, before stumbling over to the window and throwing it open. The cool breeze hit her face as she glanced down. The drop was nothing—she’d jumped from buildings twice as high before. Smirking, she climbed onto the windowsill and leapt out.

She hit the ground with a satisfying thud, or at least it would have been satisfying if the heel of one of her shoes hadn’t snapped. Eyes wide, she cursed as she tumbled forward, landing face-first in the dirt. Groaning, Felt sat up and rubbed her stinging cheek, now dirt-covered and aching.

“Dumb shoes!” she growled, ripping them off and tossing them aside. Barefoot was better—screw the heels!

Dusting herself off, she looked toward the wall that separated the manor grounds from the street. Once she was over it, she could easily navigate her way back to Subaru and Rom.

“Easy, I’ll be—ouch, ouch, ouch!” Felt yelped as a sharp pain shot through her ear.

“Now, young lady, it’s not very polite to go jumping out of windows and getting a brand-new dress covered in mess,” came a firm, no-nonsense voice.

Felt turned her head—or as much as she could with her ear being tugged—and saw an older woman in a maid’s outfit. Her stern gaze bore down on Felt, her fingers gripping Felt’s ear like iron.

“Let go of me! Ow, ow!” Felt cried, trying to pull away, but the old woman’s grip was unrelenting.

“I think not,” the maid replied coolly. “You’re coming with me, young lady. Now stop fussing, and I might let go of your ear before the week is out.”

Despite Felt’s protests and struggles, the maid marched forward, dragging her along by the ear. Every step Felt took was accompanied by a wince and muttered curses as she was hauled back toward the manor.

The old maid dragged Felt into an ornate sitting room where Reinhard sat, sipping tea. He looked up, momentarily puzzled as he watched Felt being marched in by her ear, her disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the elegance of the room.

“Carol, did you go to collect Felt instead of the girls?” Reinhard asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, this little scamp jumped out of the window, landed face-first, and made a mess of herself,” Carol replied matter-of-factly, her grip on Felt’s ear unwavering.

“Oh… well, I guess I should have gone to wake her myself in that case,” Reinhard chuckled, though his expression carried a mix of amusement and guilt.

“As if! I was naked! Ouch, let go already!” Felt snapped, writhing as Carol’s iron grip refused to relent.

“Miss Carol, if you could,” Reinhard said gently, gesturing toward Felt. With a huff, the old maid finally released her.

“No more jumping out of windows,” Carol scolded, her voice sharp. Then, without missing a beat, she bellowed, “Flam! Grassis!”

A moment later, the twin maids from earlier entered the room, their synchronized movements giving them an eerie air. “Yes, Grandmother?” they said in unison.

Grandmother? Felt thought, rubbing her sore ear. That explains a lot.

“You two should do a better job ensuring our young lady minds herself. From now on, assume she will do something reckless. Understood?” Carol commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, Grandmother,” the twins replied in unison, their monotone words accompanied by lazy, almost bored glares in Felt’s direction.

“Good.” Carol folded her arms, clearly satisfied.

Felt briefly considered making another break for it, but with Reinhard and now three watchful servants, she knew her chances were slim. She’d barely made it out of her room, and now she was being corralled like livestock.

“Why the hell am I here, Reinhard?! Spill it already!” Felt demanded, crossing her arms as she glared at the knight.

“Well, I wanted to confirm something,” Reinhard said, retrieving the insignia Felt had stolen from Emilia. He held it up, the faint red gemstone at its center catching the light.

“What? My punishment for stealing that thing is being forced to wear dresses and play princess? Please, lock me up in the dungeon. I’d rather be there than stuck in this nightmare!” Felt crossed her arms, glaring daggers at him.

“You’re not being punished,” Reinhard replied calmly, ignoring her sarcasm. “At least not in my opinion. See how dark this gem is?” He pointed to the insignia’s dull red glow. “Catch.”

Reinhard tossed it to her without warning. Instinctively, Felt snatched it out of the air. She frowned, noticing that the gem was now glowing brightly.

“It’s lighting up, so what?” she asked, unimpressed.

“There are only five people in the whole of Lugunica for whom that insignia will react like this,” Reinhard explained. “As a citizen of Lugunica, it is your responsibility to appear before the Council of Wisemen in just under two months. You’ve been the subject of a mission I was assigned—to find the fifth person worthy of this insignia.”

“Insignia? Wisemen? No thank you,” Felt scoffed, placing her hands on her hips.

“You don’t have a choice,” Reinhard said evenly, sipping his tea. “Fate brought me to you, and fate has plans for you, Lady Felt.”

“Fate? Listen, I don’t give a shi—ouch, ouch, ouch!” Felt cried out as Carol pinched her ear again.

“Language, young lady,” the maid scolded, her tone sharp.

“Carol, might you be a little gentler with her?” Reinhard asked, though his voice lacked urgency.

“No,” Carol said flatly. “You tasked me with making her a young lady, and I can already tell this one will need a firm hand if we’re to make any progress before the selection.” With that, she finally let go of Felt’s ear.

Bitch. Felt thought bitterly but held her tongue for fear of further punishment.

“As I was saying,” Reinhard continued as though nothing had happened, “the insignia lighting up at your touch indicates that you meet the qualifications laid out by the Dragon. You are required, as a citizen of this kingdom, to appear before the Council.”

“Duty to the kingdom?” Felt scoffed, barely holding back a bitter laugh. “This fuc—” she stopped herself, glancing nervously at Carol, “f-functionless kingdom hasn’t done a damn thing for people like me! Why should I care what happens here?! I don’t want to be involved.”

“You don’t have a choice in the matter,” Reinhard said, his calm demeanor unshaken by her outburst. “Once you stand before the Council, you’ll have the opportunity to decide your path. Until then, it’s my duty to ensure you get there safely.”

“I don’t have a choice in the matter?!” Felt snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “I have to play pretend, and act like a ‘lady’ for two months? Screw that! You can’t just kidnap someone and force them to do as you like! Even if you are the Sword Saint, ya know!”

“In this case, I am tasked with ensuring that the fifth candidate is found, prepared, and present at the castle at the appointed time,” Reinhard replied evenly. “To that end, I will do everything within my power to see that you’re not only there but ready for the responsibility.”

“Candidate for what, though?” Felt demanded, throwing her arms in the air.

“If I explained everything now, I fear you might make up your mind prematurely,” Reinhard sighed. “Just know this: I swear on my honor that, should you decide to walk away on that day, I will respect your choice, and you will be free to live your life as you please. However, I believe fate has plans for you that you cannot yet see.”

Felt bit her lip, trying to rein in her frustration. Two months with these people? Playing along felt unbearable, but she resolved that the first opportunity she got to slip away unnoticed, she’d take it without hesitation.

“Where’s the Old Man and Big Bro?” Felt asked at last, her tone softening slightly.

“Until I was certain of your status, I thought it unwise to involve anyone else,” Reinhard explained. “Rest assured, Lady Emilia kindly took both of your friends with her to the Manor of Roswaal L. Mathers. They are safe.”

“Mathers? You mean that half-elf took my family away?!” Felt’s anger reignited, her fists clenching at her sides.

“I’ve promised to reunite you with them,” Reinhard said, his voice steady but firm. “However, it will take some time. Their presence here might be a distraction during your preparation.”

“They’re not a distraction; they’re family!” Felt barked, her voice trembling with emotion.

“A poor choice of words,” Reinhard admitted, inclining his head slightly. “What I meant is that your focus will need to be on your education with Carol and Grimm. Having your friends here might divide your attention, and that would hinder your progress. Please understand, Felt, I am only trying to help.”

Felt loathed everything about this situation, but she felt cornered. She had no idea where this “Mathers” Manor was—it might not even be in the capital—and she was certain that if she tried to escape, Reinhard would come for her.

“F-fine,” she muttered reluctantly, her voice dripping with defiance. “I’ll play along with your stupid plan. But you should know, after this meeting or whatever, I’m leaving with Subaru and Rom! I don’t want or need any of this nonsense!”

Reinhard smiled, seemingly satisfied despite her resistance. “That is all I ask. I have faith that everything will work out in the end,” he said with his usual calm confidence.

“I must be off to the Guard Station now,” he added, standing and straightening his coat. “I’m already late as it is. Carol, I’ll leave things in your capable hands.”

Felt glared after him as he bowed deeply and left the room. The moment the door closed, she turned to find Carol watching her with an unwavering, no-nonsense expression.

“Flam, Grassis,” the elder maid called sharply, “take our young lady and clean her up again. She’ll need a fresh dress—this one is a disgrace.”

“Yes, Grandmother,” the twins replied in unison.

Felt glanced down at herself. Sure, the dress had picked up some dust, maybe a grass stain or two from her earlier escapade, but it was far from the disaster Carol was making it out to be. This old hag would probably call a single speck of dust a catastrophe. I can only imagine what she thought of my real clothes…

“I don’t need—hey!”

Before Felt could finish her protest, the twins had already seized her hands, dragging her out of the room without so much as a glance back. She stumbled slightly, their grip firm and unyielding, and any fight she might have mustered fizzled under their synchronized determination.

Resigned to her fate, she allowed herself to be led away, though her mind continued to churn with frustration and indignation. These next few months, she realized grimly, were shaping up to be the longest—and most miserable—of her life.

You better be having just as hard of a time, Subaru, she thought bitterly, her teeth gritting against the injustice of it all.

Chapter 7: ARC 1 - Chapter 6: Rock Fight

ARC I

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Chapter VI:

Rock Fight

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“Ah, so you’re a Yin and Yang user? Interesting.” Roswaal lifted his hand from Subaru’s head, his usual smirk deepening as he revealed the result of his assessment. It had taken the mage mere moments to identify Subaru’s elemental affinities.

Subaru had been woken early that morning by Ram, who escorted him to the top of the central tower where Roswaal’s office was located. She’d made it abundantly clear, sharply and fervently, that failure or disrespect would not be tolerated.

“Do not take Lord Roswaal’s generosity for granted, Subaru,” she’d said sternly, fixing him with a glare. “That includes refraining from any further remarks like ‘Clown Noble.’ Or else, I might have to wash out your mouth.”

Her devotion to Roswaal was something Subaru found… intense. He wondered briefly if there was something more personal behind her loyalty. Perhaps the two shared a deeper connection—lovers, maybe? It wasn’t unheard of for nobles to have close relationships with some staff. Then again, there could be an entire history between Roswaal and the maids that he was completely unaware of.

“Yin and Yang, huh?” Subaru said, refocusing on the moment. “Two elements—that’s rare, right?” He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride.

“Indeed! Yin and Yang are quite formidable elements,” Roswaal confirmed, his tone as theatrical as ever. “A combination with great potential, dear Subaru!”

“What about you?” Subaru asked, curiosity piqued. “What are your affinities?”

“Oh, I am quite the rare case, as you might imagine. I possess an affinity for all six elements,” Roswaal declared, his smirk widening.

“All six?!” Subaru’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“It is indeed unusual,” Roswaal admitted, clearly enjoying Subaru’s reaction. “Most magic users who wish to access all forms of magic must rely on spirits. However, I was blessed with the ability to wield them through my gate.”

“So, if I wanted to use the other four elements, I’d need to connect with spirits, like Emilia does. Is that right?” Subaru asked, leaning forward, intrigued.

“Indeed,” Roswaal affirmed with a flourish. “There are advantages and disadvantages to both methods. Spirits, for example, offer tremendous power, but they come with limitations. To wield their strength, one must form contracts—agreements binding their aid to you. Miss Emilia’s connection with Puck is a prime example. While she draws her power from him, Puck is only able to appear during specific times of the day.”

“So, if Puck’s not around, her abilities are weaker?” Subaru guessed.

“Precisely,” Roswaal said, nodding. “This is why she also forms temporary contracts with numerous minor spirits to supplement her power. However, such arrangements are fleeting and less reliable.”

“And what about using a gate?” Subaru pressed.

“Ah, relying solely on your gate spares you the need for contracts,” Roswaal explained, “but it has its challenges. Your ability to wield magic is directly tied to your mana reserves. If your supply is lacking…” He gestured dramatically, allowing the implication to hang in the air. “You may find yourself quite powerless at an inopportune moment.”

“I get the idea of gates,” Subaru began, shrugging casually. “Rom explained it to us when we were kids. Felt and I have been using mana for ages to enhance our physical movements. She’s blessed with a Divine Protection that lets her move insanely fast for brief moments. Normally, though, I’m the faster of the two of us. Also, when I’m in the forge, I use mana to make things easier.”

“Mana control is indeed the foundation of all magical endeavors, but without a proper teacher, one can only go so far, young Subaru!” Roswaal said with a wide grin. “To that end, I have a task for you. Before I teach you a single spell, you must master control.”

From his sleeve, Roswaal produced a small, uncut purple gem, holding it up between his fingers. A moment later, it began to glow faintly. “This,” he said, “is a delightful little training tool. Consider it a challenge. Its sole purpose is to teach mana control.”

Placing the gem in Subaru’s hand, Roswaal continued, “Your task is simple: stay here, focus on channeling your mana into the crystal. Too much or too little, and it won’t glow. The key is to provide just the right amount of mana.”

Subaru turned the gem over in his hand, examining it closely. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Does it now?” Roswaal smirked knowingly. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll check on your progress tomorrow. Remember: no leaving this spot until you’ve succeeded!”

Tomorrow? Does he really think this will take that long? Subaru thought, turning the gem over in his hands. I can channel mana to my body already; this can’t be that different.

Sighing, he focused on his gate, opening it and willing the mana to flow up into his arm and then into the crystal. Instantly, the gem reacted, drinking in his mana as though he’d unleashed a flood. Alarmed, he cut off the flow abruptly, feeling an unexpected wave of exhaustion from the brief interaction.

“What in the name of the Dragon?” he muttered, gripping the gem more tightly. “Okay… maybe I was a little overconfident. No problem. At least now I know what to expect.”

With renewed determination, Subaru opened his gate again. This time, he felt the gem seize onto his mana with a forceful pull, as if it had a will of its own. Fighting to regulate the flow, he struggled to maintain a balance. The gem’s demands were unpredictable—one moment weak, the next overpowering. No matter how hard he tried to find the perfect rhythm, the crystal refused to glow.

Hours passed as Subaru wrestled with the crystal. Sweat dripped down his face, his breaths coming in heavy pants. His muscles ached, and his mana reserves felt dangerously low. Finally, his body gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, utterly drained.

Panting hard, he stared at the dimming light in the room. The thought of staying rooted in place until he completed the task, as Roswaal had instructed, filled him with frustration. His growling stomach made him curse under his breath.

As if summoned by his hunger, the door creaked open, and Rem entered, carrying a tray. Subaru’s spirits briefly lifted at the prospect of food, but his hope was dashed when he saw only bread and water.

Seriously? The guy’s loaded and sends me bread and water? Subaru thought bitterly. Still, he accepted the tray with a tired “thank you.”

Rem nodded but didn’t leave immediately. Her gaze lingered on him, that same unreadable look she’d given him earlier. It made Subaru uneasy. As she turned to go, he called out, “Hey… out of curiosity, do you know anything about this?” He held up the crystal. “Roswaal didn’t exactly explain how—” He cut himself off, realizing mid-sentence that asking a maid about advanced magic might be pointless.

Rem paused. “No, Master Roswaal didn’t teach us magic,” she replied softly. “Sister and I learned it growing up.”

Subaru blinked in surprise. It wasn’t unheard of for commoners to know magic, but it was rare. Why would two maids possess such skills? “Really? Who taught you both as kids?”

Rem hesitated, her expression unreadable. “I’ve said too much. Lord Roswaal doesn’t want you distracted.”

“Wait—” Subaru began, but Rem was already out the door, leaving him alone with the crystal and more questions than answers.

Hours passed, the night stretching on interminably. Subaru felt like his body was on the verge of breaking apart. His mana reserves were nearly depleted, his muscles ached, and frustration gnawed at him. The seemingly simple task had turned into an insurmountable ordeal. He fought to maintain the balance, alternating between tugging and releasing his mana in the crystal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a faint ember of light flickered deep within the gem for the briefest moment.

Gasping in surprise, Subaru let the crystal drop from his hands and collapsed onto the cold marble floor of the study. Exhaustion threatened to claim him then and there, but his pride refused to let him be found face-first on the floor of his new master’s office. Still, the sheer effort of the day left him utterly drained. He was annoyed enough knowing that all his work had resulted in the crystal flickering for a mere blink.

He made it seem so easy… Subaru gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright.

“Very good, Subaru! I must commend you for your efforts!” Roswaal’s voice rang out, followed by a slow clap.

Startled, Subaru glanced over his shoulder to see the mage standing there, a smirk plastered across his face. Ram stood behind him, her expression as impassive as ever, her gaze sharp and critical.

“How… did you?” Subaru started, barely able to form a coherent question.

“I have excellent timing, you might say,” Roswaal said with a flourish. He held up a second crystal, identical to the one Subaru had been working with. “I linked this gem with yours, so when one glows, so does the other. If you had cheated, I would have known immediately!” His smirk deepened.

“Great,” Subaru muttered, his legs trembling beneath him.

“Get some rest,” Roswaal said, his tone almost fatherly. “We shall reconvene later.”

Subaru glanced at Ram. “Is she here to help me back to my room or something?” He hated to admit it, but his legs were barely supporting him. Making it to his bed chamber seemed like an impossible feat.

Ram’s tone was as blunt as ever. “I have business with Master Roswaal. You are more than capable of finding your way back on your own.”

“Business… sure,” Subaru muttered, trying not to let his frustration show. I hope that’s not code for what I think it is.

“Poor Subaru,” Roswaal teased with a chuckle. “I’d offer you a Bokko fruit, but such frivolous use when unnecessary would be careless indeed! Rest well, my young apprentice.”

With that, Subaru forced himself to stand as straight as his fatigued body would allow and made his way out of the room. Using the wall as a crutch, he descended the stairs slowly, each step testing his waning strength. Several times, he nearly dozed off mid-stride, but sheer determination kept him moving.

At long last, Subaru stumbled into his room. He barely managed to close the door behind him before collapsing onto his bed. Without even pulling the covers over himself, he fell face-first into the mattress and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Subaru was jolted awake by the abrupt sensation of falling. Startled, he groaned as the hard floor greeted him with an unkind thud. His body still ached, and he felt like he could use another day—or two—of sleep, but it was clear that rest wasn’t an option anymore.

“What in the hell?” he muttered, pushing himself upright to see Rom towering over him. “Not a very nice wake-up call, old man.”

“I tried shaking you, but you were out cold. Figured this was the easiest way,” Rom said with a shrug, his tone unapologetic.

“It’s the crack of dawn. Couldn’t you just let me sleep?” Subaru grumbled, eyeing the inviting bed. Even now, exhaustion tugged at him, tempting him to crawl back under the covers.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rom crossed his arms. “What happened up there yesterday? I didn’t see you all day.”

“I was fighting with a stupid rock,” Subaru grumbled. “The rock was winning.”

Rom raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, he glanced toward the doorway, his expression serious. “That blue-haired maid was asking about you.”

“Rem?” Subaru perked up, thoughts of sleep fading. “What did she want to know?”

“She asked how long we’d known each other,” Rom said, folding his arms tighter across his chest.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth. That you’ve been around since you were a small boy,” Rom replied, his gaze flicking back toward the door. “I don’t like it. She’s got a look in her eye. I saw it at tea the other day.”

“She’s been doing that since we met,” Subaru admitted, sitting straighter. “I mean, her sister Ram is cold, but I think that’s just her personality. With Rem, it’s different. She looks like she suspects me of something. I just don’t know what.”

Rom rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The sooner Reinhard gets here, the better.”

“I’m Roswaal’s apprentice now. It’s not like I can just up and leave,” Subaru pointed out. “I’m in a contract.”

“Contracts with humans aren’t binding like those with spirits,” Rom said. “Sure, you have a magical connection, but it can be broken.”

“Wait, really?” Subaru blinked, genuinely surprised by the revelation.

Rom nodded. “It’d take considerable effort, but yeah, it’s possible.”

Subaru wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. He could barely make a rock glow after an entire day of trying—breaking a contract written by someone like Roswaal? That sounded about as feasible as growing wings and flying to the moon.

“Listen,” Subaru sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I get it—this is all new for both of us. But honestly, a few odd looks from a cute maid? That’s nothing we can’t handle.”

Rom didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

“Besides,” Subaru continued, his tone more resolute, “Roswaal promised to protect Felt. Even if I could somehow break the contract, that part of the deal would vanish too. I can’t risk that.”

Rom’s expression softened, but the concern didn’t leave his eyes entirely. “Just keep your head on straight, kid. Things might seem fine now, but promises from nobles don’t always mean what they should.”

Subaru knew Rom was right. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something was off, but until he could pinpoint what it was, he had no intentions of stirring the pot. If he stuck to his role, followed instructions, and avoided unnecessary drama, things would work out. Rem’s suspicions, if she even had any, didn’t matter—he had nothing to hide. Besides, Rom had always been wary of others. Outside of Felt and himself, the old man didn’t trust anyone.

“Alright, I promise I’ll be careful,” Subaru sighed, his tone resigned.

With that, he set off in search of something to eat, bracing himself for another day standing in Roswaal’s study, wrestling with a stubborn rock.

The trip to the kitchen was straightforward this time. He found some bread, cheese, and salted pork—nothing luxurious, but it was food. Famished, Subaru didn’t hesitate to scarf it all down. Ever since arriving in this world, he’d learned not to complain about meals, no matter how simple they were.

With a full stomach, he felt much better. After tidying up his plate, Subaru decided to take a stroll in the gardens. The fresh air was invigorating, though his body still ached from the strain of the previous day. The sunrise cast a golden glow over the sprawling farmland and forest that stretched out beyond the manor grounds. It was a view he rarely saw, having spent most of his life confined to the city. He had to admit, it was nice.

“There you are.”

The voice snapped him out of his reverie. Turning around, Subaru saw Ram approaching with her usual air of cool indifference. Great, so much for a peaceful morning.

“Oh, good morning, Ram,” Subaru greeted, trying to sound pleasant. “I assume Roswaal has something for me?”

Ram nodded curtly. “He is having you repeat your task from the prior day. Come.”

Subaru suppressed the urge to groan, though the temptation was strong. This was all part of the deal, and he knew it. Besides, it wasn’t like his first few months at the forge had been a breeze either. If learning magic were easy, everyone would do it.

Ram led him back to Roswaal’s study, her steps precise and unwavering. Once inside, the eccentric mage was already waiting for them, the same gem resting in his palm. Subaru eyed the stone warily. The task seemed deceptively simple, but he now knew just how challenging it truly was.

“I trust you’ll accomplish the task much sooner this time, dear Subaru!” Roswaal declared, his sing-song tone grating and condescending all at once. He placed the gem in Subaru’s hand, his mismatched eyes gleaming with expectation. “And try to become consistent—oh, yes, yes, yes! A simple spark is too little to satisfy me today!”

With that, Roswaal swept out of the room in his usual theatrical fashion, leaving Subaru alone with the gem and the daunting task ahead.

Subaru sat down with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes as he cradled the gem in his palm. “Consistent, huh? Yeah, no pressure,” he muttered to himself.

Focusing, he opened his gate, feeling the now-familiar pull as the magical flow began its tug-of-war. The stone in his hand pulsed faintly, the warmth of mana surging and retreating like the ebb and flow of the tide. Subaru clenched his teeth, determined to control the chaotic energy this time.

Hours passed, and the fight was just as frustrating as it had been the day before. Subaru’s brow furrowed in concentration, beads of sweat rolling down his face as he struggled to maintain control. However, now that he had succeeded once, he was able to get the gem to spark every so often. The new challenge was to make it shine steadily for an extended period.

He couldn’t help but imagine Roswaal somewhere nearby, likely enjoying his lunch while watching the stone’s twin flicker sporadically. The thought made Subaru’s blood boil. He’d love nothing more than to smash the stupid thing against the wall, but that was the childish part of him speaking. That would only bring fleeting satisfaction—and wouldn’t solve a thing.

Gritting his teeth, Subaru refocused on the task. It took several more attempts, each more draining than the last, but eventually, he began to feel the flow. The tug-of-war settled into something smoother, something almost manageable. It demanded every ounce of his concentration, every shred of his willpower.

At last, the gem began to glow—a steady, soft light radiating from its core.

One second… two seconds… and then, with a faint flicker, the glow vanished.

Subaru gasped, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Despite the short-lived success, a triumphant grin spread across his face.

“Hell yeah!” he shouted, punching the air in victory. He laughed breathlessly, a mixture of exhaustion and pride washing over him. It had only been two—maybe three—hours, and already, he had made progress.

But there was no time to celebrate. Subaru steadied his breathing and picked up the gem again, determination gleaming in his eyes. “Can’t stop now,” he muttered, ready to dive back into the fight.

By the end of the day, Subaru sat slumped in the chair, utterly spent. His limbs felt like jelly, and he was just as exhausted as he had been the day before—if not more so.

Roswaal stood before him, a pleased smile on his painted face. “You did quite well, Subaru! I must say, five seconds is quite the accomplishment. If we were to repeat this exercise tomorrow, I daresay you could hold it even longer.”

“Thanks…” Subaru panted, his breath coming in heavy bursts. Even speaking felt like a chore.

“Hmmm… yes,” Roswaal said thoughtfully, crossing his arms. “I think you’re ready for a new challenge! ” His tone was cheerful, almost sing-song, but Subaru didn’t trust it for a second.

Roswaal turned to Ram, who was standing quietly nearby. “Ram, in the morning, see that Subaru is put to work with you and your sister. I want him to try and make his gem spark while he’s distracted with manual labor! A most entertaining idea, if I do say so myself.”

Subaru’s jaw tightened as he bit back a groan. I have to do housework while focusing on this stupid rock? Are you kidding me?! He couldn’t tell if Roswaal was genuinely trying to push him or if the mage simply enjoyed watching him suffer.

“Yes, Lord Roswaal,” Ram replied smoothly, bowing her head without hesitation.

Subaru staggered to his feet, his body screaming in protest. “I’m going to bed,” he muttered. “I can’t even feel my face.”

“Oh, do get something to eat first!” Roswaal called after him, his voice as chipper as ever. “Wouldn’t want you to pass out while peeling potatoes tomorrow!”

Subaru grumbled under his breath as he trudged out of the study, exhaustion weighing on him like a lead cloak. Still, he couldn’t entirely suppress a spark of determination. If Roswaal thought this challenge would break him, he had another thing coming.

Food and sleep had done little to dull Subaru’s aches and pains by the time Ram woke him the next morning. His body protested every movement, but he forced himself to get up, clutching the gem that had become both his challenge and his torment. To his dismay, he was handed a butler’s uniform and immediately put to work.

The day started with peeling potatoes, moved on to dusting every inch of the manor, and finally, mopping. All the while, Subaru was expected to pour mana into the gem in his palm. Any time he paused to focus on the gem, one of the maids was quick to remind him of the tasks at hand, putting him right back to work.

It was exhausting. Balancing the physical demands of housework with the mental strain of channeling mana seemed impossible. Yet, that was precisely the point. The challenge wasn’t just about magic—it was about pushing his limits.

By the end of the day, Subaru hadn’t managed to produce so much as a single spark from the gem. He was drained of both mana and strength, and to make matters worse, the twins weren’t shy about expressing their dissatisfaction.

“Rem, he appears to be spent,” Ram remarked, her tone as indifferent as ever.

“Ram, he appears to be useless now,” Rem replied with a faint sigh.

Subaru bristled, his pride stinging. “I swung a hammer for a living, not a broom! Cut me some slack!” he snapped, his frustration spilling over. The sharpness of his tone surprised even himself, but the day’s struggles had worn him thin.

Ram tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “I will go into town to collect supplies,” she said, turning to her sister. “I would take Subaru with me, but as you said, Rem, he is useless.”

Subaru’s pride took another hit, but he couldn’t muster the energy to argue. His body felt like lead, and even the thought of walking to town seemed impossible.

“You seem spent, Subaru.”

He looked up, startled to see Emilia standing nearby. When had she gotten there? Her presence was a welcome relief from the unrelenting critiques of the twins.

“Yeah,” Subaru admitted, grimacing. “Didn’t make any progress today.”

Emilia smiled gently, her expression kind. “That’s okay. Everyone has setbacks. You’ve been working hard—just keep at it.”

Subaru managed a weak smile in return. “Thanks. It's just a temporary setback. I’m sure things will be better tomorrow.”

“Yeah… tomorrow,” Subaru sighed as he tried to stand but promptly fell back onto the ground with a thud.

“D-don’t push yourself!” Emilia exclaimed, hurrying to his side. She knelt and slipped an arm under his, gently helping him up. “Here, lean on me. Think of it as a reward for your hard work!”

Subaru’s face flushed as the half-elf supported him. “Emilia, this is embarrassing,” he mumbled, his voice laced with gratitude and awkwardness. “Besides, this isn’t appropriate. You’re above Roswaal in station—and way above me. It’s improper.”

“Nonsense,” Emilia said with a little huff. “Now stop fussing and move your feet. I’ll help you, but I draw the line at carrying you to bed like a little kid.”

Subaru wanted to argue, but deep down, he wasn’t upset. A beautiful girl helping him to his room wasn’t exactly a hardship. Emilia’s kindness and proximity were almost too much to process in his exhausted state. He couldn’t deny her charm—her beauty, her warmth—but he quickly shook off those thoughts. Get a grip, Subaru. She’s a candidate for the throne, and you were living in the slums days ago.

“Mind yourself, Subaru,” Ram said sternly from nearby, her tone as sharp as ever.

“As if I would do anything!” Subaru shot back defensively, though his face burned brighter.

Emilia giggled softly, a melodic sound that seemed to ease the tension in the air. “Come on, let’s get you to bed,” she said as she guided him toward his room.

By the time they reached his door, Subaru was nearly asleep on his feet. He wanted to thank Emilia properly, maybe talk to her for a moment longer, but the pull of his bed was too strong. “Good evening, Emilia,” he mumbled, managing a small smile before collapsing face-first onto the mattress.

I’ll get it tomorrow… tomorrow for sure, he thought as sleep overtook him.

Sleep… was nice.

“Get up!”

Subaru’s eyes snapped open as he was abruptly yanked out of bed. His vision blurred as his groggy mind struggled to make sense of the situation. Standing over him, gripping his arm with surprising force, was Rom.

“W-what is it, old man?” Subaru groaned, his voice thick with exhaustion. He rubbed his eyes and glanced toward the window, where the faint glow of early morning was just starting to filter through the glass.

“We have to go. That Ram girl—” Rom began, his voice tense.

Before Subaru could process what Rom was saying, the door to the room exploded inward with a deafening crash. Instinctively, Subaru raised his arms to shield himself as splinters flew through the air. Rom reacted instantly, shoving Subaru to the floor just as the head of a massive mace whipped through the space where they’d been standing.

The weapon tore through the walls, leaving a jagged scar in its wake. The entire room trembled under the force of the blow, and Subaru’s ears rang from the impact.

“What the hell?!” Subaru shouted, scrambling to his feet. His hands instinctively reached for a dagger—only to find he wasn’t armed.

Through the wreckage of the door stepped Rem, her face a mask of pure, unrelenting fury. Subaru froze, stunned by the intensity of her expression. She’d been glaring at him for days, but this… this was something else entirely.

“You’re both working with them, aren’t you?” she growled, her voice seething with venom. “You did this! ”

Before Subaru could ask what she was talking about, Rem flicked her mace with terrifying speed. The weapon tore through the air toward them, forcing Subaru to dive to the side to avoid having his chest caved in. Mana surged into his limbs instinctively, adrenaline pumping as he narrowly evaded another crushing blow.

“We have to run, kid!” Rom bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Subaru nodded, his mind racing. Spotting the bedside table, he grabbed it and hurled it toward Rem. It wasn’t much, but it bought him a split second as she batted it aside with her mace. Without waiting to see her next move, Subaru sprinted toward the window.

Glass shattered as Subaru leapt through the window, tumbling into the garden below. The sharp pain of landing on the uneven ground barely registered, drowned out by the pounding of his heart and the rush of adrenaline. He rolled to his feet, glancing up at the gaping hole in his room, half-expecting Rem to come crashing down after him.

Subaru froze as he heard the sound of a fight continuing in the room above. His heart dropped when Rom’s voice cut through the chaos, hoarse and strained.

“Run, kid! I’ll—”

The sickening crunch that followed sent a chill down Subaru’s spine. His fists clenched tightly as his teeth ground together. Rom, you idiot!

“Rom!” Subaru shouted, panic rising in his voice. The sounds of fighting resumed above, each impact echoing through the halls. Damn it! He knew without a weapon, he was less than useless. Rom had likely realized outrunning Rem was impossible, forcing the giant to fight her barehanded. Insane, but typical of the old man.

Subaru gritted his teeth and bolted, heading for the only place he knew he could find a makeshift weapon—the kitchen. A chef’s knife wasn’t a dagger, but it was better than his bare fists.

He sprinted through the hallways, skidding into the kitchen and grabbing the largest knife he could find. Gripping it tightly, Subaru turned and dashed back toward the fight.

As he raced down the hall, Subaru came to an abrupt stop when he saw Emilia lying unconscious on the ground. Her silvery hair was splayed across the floor, and though she wasn’t bleeding, she was clearly out cold.

Subaru hesitated, his mind torn. Rom needs me… but if Emilia can wake up, maybe she can talk Rem down. He knelt beside her and reached out to shake her awake, but the moment his fingers touched her shoulder, an icy burn shot through his hand.

Hissing in pain, Subaru yanked his hand back. Frost coated his fingers, leaving them numb and tingling. “What the—?”

“If you don’t mind, Subaru,” a calm, icy voice said, “I’d prefer you not touch Lia right now. I’m not sure I can trust you at the moment.”

Subaru’s eyes darted to the green gem around Emilia’s neck, which glowed faintly as Puck’s voice filled the hallway.

“Puck?” Subaru asked, his voice strained. “What happened?”

“Maybe you don’t know, or maybe you do,” Puck replied, his tone cold and distant. “If you’re truly ignorant, take a look in the room.”

Confused, Subaru turned to see a door slightly ajar. Warily, he approached and pushed it open. His heart sank as he took in the sight inside.

Ram lay motionless on the bed, her skin pale as snow, her chest utterly still. Subaru approached cautiously, each step heavy with dread. When he was close enough to see her up close, the truth struck him like a blow. She’s dead.

“What… what happened?” Subaru muttered, his voice trembling. Ram had been perfectly fine yesterday.

“Not sure,” Puck said evenly. “But Rem thinks it’s your fault. Lia tried to stop her, but Rem shoved her aside. Lia hit her head pretty hard, so for now, I’m furious at everyone here. Especially you… Rem.”

Subaru turned sharply, his breath catching in his throat. Rem stood in the doorway, her glowing pink horn extending from her forehead. Her blood-soaked figure was framed by the dim light of the hallway, her gore-caked mace clutched tightly in her hand.

“Don’t you touch her, cultist scum!” Rem bellowed, her voice a mix of fury and anguish.

Subaru’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. The old man… A surge of heat and rage coursed through him, bubbling uncontrollably to the surface.

“You dumb bitch!” Subaru roared, gripping the chef’s knife tightly as he launched himself at her.

Rem whipped her mace toward him, the spiked ball hurtling through the air with deadly force. Subaru pushed mana into his legs, leaping over the ball and chain, desperate to close the distance. He swung the knife toward her throat in a blind fury, but Rem was quicker than he anticipated. She darted back, her movements graceful despite the rage contorting her face.

Subaru weaved and dodged as Rem’s mace came around again, the sound of it cutting through the air making his stomach churn. The force behind her attacks was terrifying—one wrong move, and he’d be a smear on the ground.

“Take this elsewhere,” Puck’s voice rang out, cold and sharp as a gust of icy wind surged through the room.

The blast struck both Subaru and Rem, hurling them through the far wall and out into the yard. Debris rained down as Subaru tumbled across the grass, rolling until he came to a stop. He groaned, pushing himself onto one knee, the chef’s knife still clutched in his trembling hand.

Across from him, Rem had landed on her feet, her pink horn glowing fiercely. Her gaze locked onto him, and she crouched, preparing to charge again.

“Why the hell did you kill Rom?!” Subaru shouted, his voice raw with emotion.

“You’re both Witch Cultists!” Rem screamed back, her eyes glistening with tears. “I know you killed my sister!”

Subaru felt his anger boil over. “We didn’t do anything! You murdered a member of my family!” he yelled, forcing himself to his feet. His body screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain, ready to pour every last ounce of mana into his limbs.

“You stink of her miasma!” Rem spat, flicking her mace to the side as if to emphasize her words. “Don’t you dare lie to me now!”

Subaru didn’t care what Rem was raving about. Whatever her reasons, she’d killed Rom, and he was going to pay blood for blood—even if it cost him his life. Gritting his teeth, he opened his gate as wide as it would go, flooding mana into his body with reckless abandon. Pain shot through him as his body protested the strain, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t holding back.

Launching himself at Rem, Subaru became a blur of motion. He had always been fast, but now, fueled by rage and desperation, he was faster than he’d ever thought possible. He didn’t care what kind of damage he was doing to himself or his gate—he only cared about closing the distance.

Rem roared in defiance, whipping her ball and chain with deadly precision to keep him at bay. Subaru dodged and weaved, pressing her into a defensive stance. But he knew he couldn’t keep this up for long. His body was already burning from the mana overload, and each movement was a gamble against his rapidly dwindling stamina.

Spotting a momentary opening, Subaru lunged, aiming to slash her across the belly. His eyes burned with fury as he poured everything into the attack—only to be caught completely off guard when an ice missile materialized and struck his shoulder.

The sharp, freezing pain sent him crashing face-first into the dirt. Damn it, I forgot! he realized with a sickening jolt. She and Ram both knew magic from childhood. Of course, she’d use it against me.

Subaru rolled to the side just in time to avoid the spiked mace that slammed into the ground where he’d been lying. The impact sent a shower of dirt and grass into the air, the force of the blow leaving a deep crater.

Gritting his teeth, Subaru scrambled to his feet, his shoulder throbbing from the ice missile’s impact. He shifted the knife to his left hand, knowing his right arm was too weak to strike with full force.

“If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me,” Subaru growled under his breath, his voice low and filled with grim resolve. His vision blurred with exhaustion, but he refused to back down. Rom, this is for you.

With a guttural shout, Subaru launched himself at her again. He didn’t care if this was his last stand. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. She’d feel every ounce of his fury before the end.

Subaru pushed himself to his absolute limit. He darted and weaved through the onslaught of Rem’s relentless mace strikes and the barrage of ice missiles. His focus narrowed to a singular goal: get close enough to strike. Finally, he managed to slash her cheek, leaving a deep cut that dripped crimson.

But his small victory was short-lived.

Rem retaliated with a swift and devastating kick to his chest. The force of the blow sent him hurtling backward, his ribs cracking audibly as he crashed into the manor wall. The impact left him slumped against the stone foundation, his body limp and unresponsive.

Subaru coughed violently, a crimson mist spilling from his lips as his breath turned to a shallow wheeze. Each inhale sent sharp, searing pain through his chest. He could feel exhaustion clawing at him, threatening to pull him under. His mana reserves were completely drained, and the backlash from pushing his gate so recklessly left his limbs like jelly. Every muscle screamed in agony, refusing to obey his desperate commands to move.

“Guess… this is it,” Subaru muttered weakly, his voice barely audible. His vision blurred as he sagged against the wall, the strength to even lift his head slipping away. I gave it everything… but it wasn’t enough.

Through his hazy vision, he saw Rem advancing, her face twisted in rage and pain. The glowing pink horn on her forehead pulsed ominously, her bloodied mace swaying in her grip.

“Die, scum,” she growled, her voice cold and unrelenting. With a flick of her wrist, the spiked ball of her mace came hurtling toward him, its deadly trajectory unmistakable.

Subaru’s last thought was not of anger or regret—it was of the faces of the people he had failed to protect. 

The last thing he saw was a morning star filling his vision.

Chapter 8: ARC 1 - Chapter 7: Nibble Nibble

ARC I

---

Chapter VII:

Nibble Nibble

---

“Ahhh!” Subaru bolted upright in bed, panting hard as he clutched at his chest, expecting to feel broken ribs and searing pain. Instead, he felt whole, his chest rising and falling steadily. His heart pounded as he looked around the familiar room.

Standing nearby, Ram was watching him with a puzzled expression, her usual stern demeanor softened with the faintest hint of concern.

“You’re alive?” Subaru muttered to himself, his thoughts racing. I’m alive? The realization struck him like a lightning bolt. I came back. It wasn’t a one-off… and this time, it’s a different point.

“Are you alright, Subaru?” Ram asked, her tone neutral but her gaze lingering on him. “I would hate for you to disappoint Master Roswaal on your first day of lessons by falling ill.”

Subaru blinked, snapping back to the moment. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he stammered, shaking his head. “Just a nightmare, that’s all.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to feel the solid floor beneath him. His hand instinctively went to his chest, reassured to find it intact. If I’m alive, then Rom is too.

Ram raised an eyebrow, her expression hardening back into its usual impassive mask. “If you’re sure, then get ready. Master Roswaal expects you in the study shortly. I suggest you don’t keep him waiting.”

Nodding, Subaru waited for her to step out before pulling on the fine clothes left out for him.

Subaru looked out the window and scowled. He could see it—feel it—the echoes of his battle with Rem in the courtyard. His mind played out the scene as if it had happened just moments ago. The clash of steel, the searing pain of broken ribs, the rage that had consumed him. His fingers twitched at his sides, and for the briefest of moments, he entertained the thought of hunting her down and ending it before it could begin.

She’s done nothing yet… he reminded himself, his grip tightening into fists before he forced them open. The urge to act was suffocating. Rom was alive now—safe—but somewhere out there, in another version of this world, his father figure was dead. The thought made his stomach churn.

Subaru inhaled sharply, filling his lungs with air before exhaling slowly. Let it go. Acting on impulse would only make things worse. Even if he did get his revenge, to everyone else, he’d just look insane.

“She’s innocent in this timeline. She’s innocent in this timeline,” he muttered under his breath, repeating the mantra like a spell to keep himself grounded.

With a final nod, he turned on his heels and made his way toward Roswaal.

---

“Ah, so you’re a Yin and Yang user? Interesting.”

Subaru’s stomach churned as the déjà vu hit him like a tidal wave. Everything was playing out almost exactly as before—Roswaal’s words, his demeanor, even the slight tilt of his head.

“You don’t seem particularly surprised,” Roswaal noted, his smile widening with curiosity. “Interesting. Have you had someone read your affinity before?”

Subaru shook his head quickly, snapping himself out of his daze. “What? Oh, no. Just lost in thought,” he lied, feigning casualness. Playing a conversation out twice really is tedious. “That’s rare, I take it?”

Roswaal’s mismatched eyes studied him with unnerving intensity, and a thin smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “It is. I can use all six elements, making me an even rarer case.”

Subaru nodded, forcing himself to focus. He’d heard this before, but there was no point rushing ahead. “I know people can make contracts with spirits like Emilia does,” he said, steering the conversation away from entirely retreading old ground.

Roswaal chuckled softly, his tone amused. “It appears you have a basic understanding… how fascinating.” He clasped his hands together with a theatrical flourish. “Very well, then! I think we should move on to your task for the day.”

With a flick of his wrist, Roswaal produced the familiar purple gem. Subaru felt his stomach tighten at the sight of it. Here we go again.

“You will pour mana into this gem until it glows. Like so.” Roswaal demonstrated effortlessly, the gem lighting up in his hand. “A seemingly simple task,” he said, his smile betraying the challenge hidden beneath his words.

Roswaal pressed the gem into Subaru’s hand, and he immediately tried to replicate what he’d done in the previous timeline. However, the effort yielded only frustration. The muscle memory he had painstakingly built before was gone, and his attempts felt clumsy and ineffective. Of course, it didn’t carry over.

“I’ll see you soon, don’t leave that spot until you light my little stone up,” Roswaal said with a parting smile, brushing past Subaru as he made his exit.

“Soon?” Subaru repeated, frowning. Last time, he said he’d see me tomorrow.

Roswaal paused, glancing back with a knowing smirk. “I have a feeling you’ll get the hang of this in a few hours. Until then, I believe Rem is preparing me a delightful breakfast, paired with some delectable hot tea.” With a wave, he disappeared out the door.

Subaru stood frozen, staring at the closed door as his thoughts churned. Why did his expectations change? What did I say that tipped him off?

His mind raced with possibilities. For that matter, where the hell was Roswaal when Rem killed Rom and me? Subaru clenched the gem in his hand, his knuckles whitening as the memory of that fight surged back.

What have I already said or done that might’ve changed things?

Putting aside Roswaal’s peculiar behavior for the time being, Subaru focused his energy on the task at hand. He spent the next few hours locked in a battle of will with the stone. While his body no longer remembered the technique, his mind did. This time, he found it far easier to navigate the ebb and flow of mana the gem demanded, each attempt sharpening his focus.

After countless tries, Subaru managed to find the elusive rhythm. The gem sparked once… twice… three times before the flow slipped away from him. He sighed and released the mana, his muscles trembling slightly from the effort. Sweat dripped from his brow, pooling at the edge of his vision as he leaned back and let out a tired breath.

“Appears you’ve done well,” came a familiar voice, smooth and amused. Subaru turned to see Roswaal, as impeccably punctual as ever, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“I just had to fight the flow just right,” Subaru replied, wiping the sweat from his face. “Still, it’s like trying to reel in a particularly large fish.”

Roswaal chuckled, a soft, melodic sound. “Done much fishing, have we?”

“No, but the fishmongers like to talk. I’ve gotten the picture enough times to compare,” Subaru shrugged.

“Indeed,” Roswaal said, his smile widening. “Since we have some extra time, I feel inclined to invite you to the bathhouse. We can discuss things further, and you can clean yourself up. Even after such a short session, you are positively soaked from your efforts!”

Subaru arched an eyebrow at the suggestion. In all his attempts to master the gem in the previous timeline, Roswaal had never once invited him to the bathhouse afterward. “I’m done training with the gem for today?” he asked, his voice laced with cautious surprise.

“You will continue with this task tomorrow,” Roswaal replied, his tone as theatrical as ever. “For now, I have several books I require you to read. However, I simply cannot have you handling delicate tomes with such sweaty palms. No, no, no, that would be a tragedy indeed!”

Subaru felt a wave of confusion wash over him as he leaned back in the steaming water. Why had Roswaal never done this before? Subaru racked his brain, trying to pinpoint what could have caused this deviation. Was it something he’d said? The confidence he’d shown? Perhaps Roswaal had gleaned more from his demeanor than Subaru realized. Whatever the reason, things were playing out differently this time, and that was a welcome change.

“Sure, a bath sounds nice,” Subaru had agreed earlier, though his real excitement lay in gaining access to Roswaal’s extensive library. If I’m stuck reading theory, at least it’ll be worth it if it helps me get ahead.

Now, submerged in the soothing heat of the bathhouse, Subaru felt his body unwinding. The hot water worked wonders, loosening his muscles and washing away the weariness from hours of mana control practice. He leaned his head back and let out a long, contented sigh, the faint scent of herbs and salts mingling in the steamy air.

“I have to say, Roswaal, while this bath might be a bit over the top, it’s something I could get used to,” Subaru remarked with a chuckle, his eyes still closed.

“Oh, why thank you!” Roswaal said dramatically as he slid into the water across from Subaru. “Being a lord does come with its privileges, after all.”

Subaru allowed himself to relax further, the warm water melting his tension. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper soak like this. Probably that snowy April morning in the capital, he recalled. He’d treated himself to a bathhouse visit for his birthday back then, despite it costing him two weeks’ pay. It had been worth it then, just as this moment felt worth it now.

“So, what are these books you want me to read?” Subaru asked, keeping his eyes closed.

“Nothing too extraordinary,” Roswaal replied with a chuckle. “Just a few books on basic magic theory to keep you busy. Consider it working ahead.”

“Why? Not planning to demonstrate things yourself?” Subaru arched an eyebrow, cracking one eye open.

“I could, of course,” Roswaal said with a dismissive wave. “But casting spells is quite simple when you break it down—just knowing the right words and how to channel mana. The real challenge lies not in casting magic but in refining it.”

“What do you mean?” Subaru asked, intrigued despite himself.

“Let me use an analogy you’ll understand,” Roswaal began, leaning back with a knowing smile. “As a smith, you could teach a novice how to forge a knife. He might be able to produce something that resembles a blade, but it would take him twice as long, burn through twice the coal, and leave him utterly exhausted. Even then, the final product would likely be… underwhelming.”

“So, you’re saying I’ll read theory to figure out how to put it into practice, but even then, I’ll probably be terrible at it?” Subaru asked, arching an eyebrow.

“‘Terrible’ is such a harsh word,” Roswaal said with a chuckle. “But… accurate. At first, your spells will lack potency, exhaust you quickly, and be worth little in the grand scheme. But that is the nature of learning, dear Subaru! Theory will help you grasp the abstract principles, and practice will sharpen your results.”

Subaru sighed. He’d been hoping Roswaal would eventually teach him directly, but it seemed access to the mage’s extensive library was part of the tradeoff. “Well, I suppose reading won’t kill me.”

“Excellent!” Roswaal said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I spent many a night poring over the vast number of books in my collection. This will be your new role as my apprentice!”

Subaru nodded wearily, already bracing himself for long nights of dry, academic reading.

“As for practical application,” Roswaal added with a smirk, “I believe tomorrow I’ll have you practice making the gem spark while you clean the bathhouse.”

Subaru groaned loudly, his head falling back against the edge of the tub. “Seriously?!”

“Oh, very much so,” Roswaal said with a delighted laugh. “Multitasking is a valuable skill, dear Subaru. You’ll thank me later.”

---

“Why is he here? I don’t want guests, I suppose,” Beatrice huffed as Roswaal swung open a closet door, revealing the hidden library. Subaru marveled at how effortlessly Roswaal seemed to find it, as if the forbidden library bent to his will.

“Such harsh words from you, how hurtful,” Roswaal chuckled, unfazed. “Young Subaru here is eager to learn more about the arts of magic. To that end, I have graciously allowed him access to read several books.”

“I am the guardian of this library, not you, I suppose,” Beatrice shot back, her tone cold and dismissive as she crossed her arms.

Subaru felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. “I’m just trying to further my education. Surely someone as nice as you could let me borrow a book or two?” he said, forcing a nervous laugh.

“I refuse,” Beatrice said flatly, her expression unyielding.

“Ever the Four-Hundred-Year-Old child, are we?” Roswaal mused, looking down at her with a sly smirk. “I will have my books.”

Four hundred? Subaru’s eyes widened. She’s that old?! It confirmed what he’d suspected: Beatrice wasn’t human. She had to be a spirit, or at least something close to one.

The air grew thick with tension. Subaru half-expected Beatrice to throw a tantrum and summon a barrage of magical fireballs, but instead, the petite spirit simply turned up her nose with a haughty huff.

“You may have two books, I suppose,” she said at last, her voice sharp and begrudging.

“Why, thank you! How very kind of you, my dear Beatrice,” Roswaal said, clapping his hands together in mock delight. With a flourishing turn, he led Subaru deeper into the rows of towering shelves.

“That was seriously scary,” Subaru muttered under his breath, stealing a glance back at Beatrice, who was now deeply engrossed in a massive black tome. “Is she always that intense about people checking out books?”

“Checking out?” Roswaal echoed, his tone tinged with amusement. “Oh no, Subaru. The books do not leave this library.”

“They don’t?”

“Indeed,” Roswaal continued, smirking. “There are very few who could sneak a book past our precious Beatrice. Should anyone try to steal from her, they would have to fight her—a most inadvisable decision, I assure you. And if she were to perish, every page in this library would turn blank.”

Subaru blinked in disbelief. “What? Why would that happen?”

“It’s the way this collection was designed by its original curator,” Roswaal explained, his tone taking on a solemn edge. “Beatrice was created to protect these books, and as long as she exists, their knowledge is preserved. Without her, however… they would all turn to useless, empty pages.”

Subaru glanced over his shoulder again, watching Beatrice as she meticulously read from the tome in her lap. “So… that’s all she does? Protect books? For four hundred years?”

Roswaal paused, his usual levity giving way to something more reflective. “It’s quite tragic, in a sense. But we all have our purpose… or, in some cases, our lack thereof.”

The weight of Roswaal’s words lingered as they walked. Subaru couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for Beatrice. Her existence sounded… lonely.

“Ah, here we are!” Roswaal suddenly declared, pulling Subaru from his thoughts. He gestured toward a set of shelves lined with thick, ancient tomes. “Your reading material awaits, dear apprentice!”

“Where do I even begin?” Subaru muttered, eyeing the meticulously organized shelves.

“Here,” Roswaal said, placing two hefty volumes in Subaru’s arms. Each must have been at least five hundred pages.

“This will take me—”

“All day and night, I suppose,” Roswaal interrupted with a smirk. “Best get to reading, my dear Subaru!”

“I haven’t even eaten yet!” Subaru complained.

“Oh, how careless of me to forget! Perhaps if you ask Beatrice nicely, she may allow you to bring in some morsel or two… though I wouldn’t count on it,” Roswaal teased, disappearing into the depths of the library.

Subaru sighed, doubting Beatrice would entertain such a request. Resigned to his fate, he carried the books to a small table and sat down to begin reading. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Beatrice occasionally glancing at him, her scrutinizing gaze making it hard to focus.

The book itself was dense but insightful, delving into the basics of magic. Subaru learned about the Gate, a conduit for mana, and the Od, akin to a person’s soul, which determined how much mana they could hold. According to the author, neither the Gate nor the Od could be expanded—both were fixed from birth.

“So, it’s all about the hand you’re dealt,” Subaru muttered, turning a page. The idea wasn’t exactly comforting, but it wasn’t surprising either. Life was rarely fair.

The book went on to cover magic control, a topic Subaru felt should have come before being thrown into mana-tug-of-war with a gem. “Should’ve read this first,” he grumbled. “Then maybe I wouldn’t be fighting damn rocks.”

Despite his frustrations, Subaru kept reading. Hours passed, and the strain of trying to absorb the information began to wear on him. Studying felt foreign—he hadn’t done anything this intensive since his school days in Japan. Eventually, the words blurred together, and Subaru set the book down for a break.

Looking up, he found Beatrice glaring at him, her small frame radiating annoyance. “What?”

“I wish you would leave me in peace, I suppose,” she snapped.

“I’ve just been sitting here reading in silence!” Subaru shot back.

“Your very presence is a distraction, I suppose!” she huffed.

Subaru’s patience, already worn thin by hunger and fatigue, finally gave out. “Here I was feeling sorry for you, having to guard these books all alone for four centuries!”

Beatrice flinched slightly at his words before her expression hardened. Raising her hand, she flung the library doors open with a wave, and an unseen force yanked Subaru out of his seat, hurling him into the hallway.

Before he could respond, the doors slammed shut behind him.

“Seriously, what the hell?” Subaru groaned, rubbing the back of his head as he got to his feet. Glancing out the window, he saw it was already dark. 

“I’m getting some food,” he grumbled. 

---

The next morning was just as different as the first. No sooner had Subaru gotten out of bed and dressed than Ram had come for him.

She handed him both the purple gem and a butler’s uniform. “Get dressed. Lord Roswaal has bid you assist Rem and myself in caring for the manor today.”

Subaru flinched. He’d been avoiding the blue-haired maid up until now, but he knew he couldn’t avoid her forever—not after what he’d lived through.

Changing into the uniform, Subaru followed Ram to the kitchens, where Rem was already waiting. She eyed him with her usual suspicion, her gaze sharp and searching. Subaru recalled her accusing him of stinking of “her miasma.” That, combined with the way she had been utterly convinced he was a Witch Cultist, had always bothered him.

Does she really think I’m part of the Witch Cult?

The thought lingered as he considered the implications. The Witch of Envy—the very name sent shivers down the spine of any child raised in Lugunica. Every legend painted her as a force of destruction, nearly bringing the world to ruin. And yet, despite her supposed death, there were still those who worshipped her—the Witch Cult. They were fanatics, wielding strange books they called gospels, foretelling futures only they could understand.

But I’ve never so much as seen one of those damned books, let alone read one.

So why did Rem claim he carried the Witch’s scent?

A chilling realization struck him.

This… Return by Death… this power… does it come from the Witch? Am I tied to her somehow?

His stomach churned at the idea. If that was true—if this ability, his one saving grace, was connected to the Witch of Envy—then he wasn’t sure he could entirely blame Rem for wanting him dead.

Before he could spiral further, a sharp voice snapped him back to reality.

“Subaru, are you listening to me?” Ram chided, her arms crossed.

Subaru shook his head, forcing himself back to the present. “Yeah, sorry. Lost in thought.”

“Well, be more attentive, or else I might need to get your attention through more forceful methods,” Ram huffed, arms crossed. “As I was saying, Lord Roswaal wishes you to assist us in any way we see fit. While doing so, you are to continue the training he instructed you on previously. Is that understood?”

Subaru nodded. “Peel potatoes, mop floors, and so forth. All while fighting with his magic rock—yeah, got it.”

“Hm. Follow our example, then. I would hate for you to make a mess of things.”

ME?! You’re the one who can barely do chores! Subaru thought but held his tongue.

The day proceeded as expected—prepping meals, dusting, mopping, tending to the garden, doing laundry, and delivering food. Roswaal, Emilia, and Rom each received their meals, the latter chuckling when Subaru served him an entire rack of meat.

All the while, Subaru remained focused on the gem, attempting to make it glow as he had the day before. The process was grueling, and his mana control was still unreliable. He could feel himself developing muscle memory, but the damn thing remained as stubborn as ever. At times, it felt like he was wrestling a force he couldn’t quite understand. A flicker of light here and there, but nothing consistent.

By the end of the day, Ram sent him to clean the bathhouse. Subaru nearly cursed. Having used it the night before, it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d be responsible for scrubbing it down afterward.

With the stone tucked in one hand, he grabbed a mop and brush, preparing for yet another round of tedious labor. It wouldn’t be the hardest thing he’d done all day, but it was far from what he wanted to be doing.

“Oh, Ram sent you to do this, did she?”

Subaru looked up to see Rem approaching, mop and bucket in hand.

“Uhh, yeah,” Subaru nodded.

He tried to ignore the knot in his gut. He wished his dagger was at his hip again, if only for moral support. For all he knew, Rem could snap and try to kill him at any moment. Though, as long as Roswaal was around, she’d likely hold back—unless he gave her a reason to act.

“I will show you how things are done properly. Please pay close attention,” Rem said, offering a slight bow.

“As much as I can. I’m kind of distracted,” Subaru replied, holding up the purple gem.

“I have faith that if Lord Roswaal allowed you to be his apprentice, you can manage two simple tasks at once,” she retorted.

“Simple… yeah,” Subaru scoffed. “Go on, then.”

Rem gave him a critical look before launching into the cleaning process. Subaru was only half paying attention, his mind torn between thoughts of her past actions—how she had killed Rom and him before—and the infuriatingly stubborn rock in his grasp. Still, it wasn’t difficult to follow the order of how the baths needed to be cleaned.

They got to work, filling the bath with some water before scrubbing from high to low. All the while, Subaru couldn’t shake the feeling of Rem’s gaze burning into him. She kept glancing at him every few moments, her scrutiny relentless.

After a good while, he’d had enough. Tossing his mop down, he turned to face her.

“What is your problem?” he asked sharply.

“Problem?” she echoed.

“You keep looking at me every thirty seconds like I might explode!”

“Will you?”

“Of course not!” Subaru crossed his arms. This might be stupid, but he needed to get it out, and he’d be damned if he just kept pretending otherwise. “I have a theory of why you dislike me.”

“A theory?” Rem frowned, scrutinizing him.

“Emilia suddenly goes to the capital, a man from the slums gets involved with her, and the next thing you know, he’s an apprentice to the Court Mage,” Subaru summarized. “Suspicious, I know. If you told me a few weeks ago this would happen, I’d have laughed in your face.”

This could be really stupid, he thought, but he didn’t like the idea of just playing dumb either.

“And for some reason… I smell of Miasma,” he added somewhat reluctantly.

Rem’s eyes narrowed, her entire posture growing tense. Subaru braced himself, ready to move if necessary, though exhaustion from his training left him at a clear disadvantage. If she attacked, a prolonged fight was out of the question.

“You’d admit something like that openly?” Rem hissed.

“Only because I’m not what you think I am,” Subaru shot back.

“You reek of the Witch’s filth, and you expect me to believe you’re not a cultist?”

“I grew up in the slums, worked in a forge, and my hands are calloused from swinging hammers,” Subaru said firmly. “You think I had time to join some group of insane Witch fanatics? Better yet, do you think Roswaal would let me become his apprentice if he suspected I was?”

“Then why do you stink of her?” Rem shouted.

“I’m not sure,” Subaru admitted honestly. “I’ve never had contact with the cult. Hell, I’d avoid them at all costs if they came calling. I swear on the Dragon, on Felt, on Rom—on everything that’s important to me.” He placed a hand over his heart for emphasis.

“You expect me to take you at your word?!” Rem’s voice sharpened. “Cultists are liars, murderers—the lowest form of life in this world! They deserve no trust, no mercy, nothing!”

“I agree,” Subaru replied firmly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I am not a cultist. Do you suspect Rom is one? Do you think the man who practically raised me is working with the Witch’s followers? Do you?”

Rem hesitated, her fingers tightening around the handle of her mop. “Just because I can’t smell her on him doesn’t mean he’s not in league with you.”

“If I am a cultist, I’ll do something to out myself eventually, right? That much has to be true.” Subaru’s voice was steady, unwavering. “So let’s make a deal. If I ever do something that convinces you I’m a cultist, kill me where I stand. But leave the Old Man out of it.”

Rem’s expression was unreadable, her silence stretching long enough that Subaru wondered if she’d outright reject his proposal.

“What is your real purpose here?” she finally asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

“I want a better life for my family,” Subaru said simply. “When this whole thing with Reinhard is over, I want to make sure Felt gets the life she’s dreamed of for years. I want to see the people I care about smile. That’s all I want.”

Rem’s grip on her mop tightened to the point that the wood creaked under the pressure. For a moment, Subaru thought she might scoff at his words.

“Fine,” she said at last. “I will refrain from acting on my instincts, but if you are a cultist, I will kill you.”

Without another word, she reached down, grabbed the mop bucket, and turned on her heel.

“You can finish cleaning the bath alone. I have other tasks to attend to,” she stated before walking away.

Subaru exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. That could have gone worse.

Now, all he had to do was figure out what had killed Ram—and stop it from happening.

---

The next morning, Subaru stood in Roswaal’s study, watching as the mage idly rolled the twin of his gem between his knuckles.

“Things are going poorly, you say?” Roswaal’s voice carried an almost amused lilt, his ever-present thin smile making Subaru bristle.

“Rem thinks I’m a member of the Witch Cult,” Subaru said, crossing his arms. “I assume if she can smell the Witch’s miasma on me, you can too. Or at the very least, she’s made you aware of it.”

“Oh, of course, I can,” Roswaal leaned forward, his smirk deepening.

Subaru frowned. “Then… why are you training me?”

“Why indeed? If you were a cultist attempting to get close to our dear Emilia, I might want to see exactly what your intentions are,” Roswaal chuckled, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming with intrigue.

“So you do think I’m a cultist?” Subaru pressed.

“Goodness, no. You’re far too poor of a mage to be a cultist,” Roswaal quipped, tilting his head. “Maybe an errand boy, but to get so close to someone such as Emilia? You would have to be exceptionally crafty indeed!” He let out a soft laugh. “That said, I would be utterly shocked if you had any prior connection to the Witch Cult.”

Subaru exhaled sharply. “Then why don’t you clear things up with Rem? If it came from your lips—”

“No,” Roswaal cut him off, shaking his head. “If you wish to gain her trust—her respect —you must earn that yourself. She will not be the first, nor the last, to smell the Witch on you.”

Subaru’s jaw clenched as Roswaal leaned back with an air of finality.

“The fact that you came to me for help,” Roswaal mused, his smile never faltering, “only proves how much you still have to learn , dear Subaru.”

 The fact you came to me for help shows how much you have to learn dear Subaru!”

“How much do you know about what’s going on here?” Subaru narrowed his eyes.

“More than I let on,” Roswaal admitted, his smirk never faltering. “That said, my young apprentice, I have no doubt you will be capable of handling things. I do require my household to be in order. To that end, you will continue your training alongside Rem and Ram today.”

“You’re not telling me anything? Man, I must say, you’re a suspicious character, you know that?” Subaru huffed.

“I’m sorry I might not enjoy the full confidence of my student!” Roswaal chuckled, tapping his fingers idly against the desk. “Unfortunately, this is for the best .” His gaze sharpened slightly. “Off to work, young Subaru!”

Frowning, Subaru turned and left, his mind spinning. Roswaal knew the Witch’s scent was on him all this time. Not once had he mentioned it.

Is it possible that he knows about the looping? Subaru scowled. No, that’s impossible. How would he even tell?

That thought unsettled him. He needed someone to help him make sense of all this—someone he trusted.

Rom.

The walk to Rom’s room was easy enough. Pushing open the door, Subaru stepped inside. The room was larger than his, the bed too—probably one of the biggest he had ever seen. How they managed to find a bed big enough for Rom was beyond him, but the old man must have been sleeping better than he ever had back in the slums.

“Ah, there you are,” Rom greeted, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by stacks of books. He rarely left his room, preferring to request material from the regular library—not the Beatrice no-go zone.

“Hey, listen, I need to talk to you about something,” Subaru said, shutting the door behind him.

“Sure. I didn’t see a food tray, so I assume this isn’t another work visit,” Rom chuckled.

Subaru took a deep breath and decided to just come out with it. “I can re—”

A searing, unnatural grip latched onto his heart.

Subaru’s breath hitched as an invisible force crushed his chest, squeezing like ghostly fingers clawing into his very being. Cold—deep, suffocating cold—poured through him, and every fiber of his body screamed to stop .

A warning. A threat.

He knew —if he spoke those words, something terrible would happen.

D-did the Witch of Envy just touch my heart?

“You’re shivering, son. You okay?” Rom’s voice cut through the haze.

Subaru blinked, realizing he was trembling violently. His breath was ragged, his vision slightly blurred.

“W-what?” He forced himself to steady his voice. “N-nothing. I’m alright.” He lied.

“Doesn’t look like nothing, son,” Rom said, crossing his arms as he studied Subaru with sharp eyes.

“I… um…” Subaru shook his head, forcing himself to act naturally. “Just dealing with some drama with Rem. Wanted to give you a heads-up to keep an eye out.” His words came quickly, too quickly.

“Hmmm…” Rom’s gaze narrowed. He wasn’t convinced.

“Alright, sure,” he finally said, his voice gruff. “You sure there’s nothing else?”

“No, that’s it,” Subaru forced a grin, trying to push past the weight on his chest. “I gotta go deal with more cleaning. I’ll see you later.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked—no, hurried —out of the room.

The moment he was far enough down the hall, his pace faltered. Bending over, he sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His heart still pounded from the unseen grip that had seized it moments before.

I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone.

That suffocating presence, that thing that had crushed his chest—it wasn’t a warning. It was a sentence. If he even tried to reveal the truth, he wouldn’t just die. Something worse would happen.

He swallowed hard, forcing the panic down.

Get it together.

Straightening, he exhaled slowly, shaking off the lingering tremors in his hands. He needed a distraction— anything to get his mind off what had just happened.

With that thought in mind, he set off to find the maids.

---

Subaru was exhausted. If Rem couldn’t smash his head in with her morning star, it seemed she was determined to work him into an early grave instead. Every task she could think of had been thrown his way, and no matter how trivial, she ensured he had no respite.

For once, Subaru wasn’t even trying with Roswaal’s training. He had bigger concerns—Ram’s impending death. He needed his mana reserves intact, and focusing on the gem was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

By the end of the day, he had volunteered to accompany Ram to the village. If something was going to kill her, he was betting it had to be there. Nothing in the manor had given any indication of a threat, and he doubted her death would be from natural causes.

“Hurry along now, Subaru. We don’t need to linger too long,” Ram instructed as they walked through the village of Arlam.

It was a peaceful place, its quiet rhythm starkly different from the chaos of the capital. Subaru had seen it on maps before but had never visited until now. Smoke curled from the chimney of a nearby building, and in the distance, he could hear the rhythmic clang of a hammer on metal.

He wondered how Conrad was managing without him. Had the old man found a new apprentice? He hoped so. The idea of returning to the forge, hammering out nails and shaping steel, suddenly seemed far more appealing than scrubbing floors under Rem’s scrutinizing gaze.

“I have a list,” Ram continued, breaking him from his thoughts. “You will collect bread from the baker while I handle the other purchases. Do not get sidetracked.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Subaru muttered, only half-listening as he continued eyeing the source of the hammering.

“The bakery is up the road and to the left,” Ram added, sharper this time, as if sensing his thoughts.

Subaru sighed but nodded, peeling himself away from the tempting sounds of the forge. “Got it.”

With that, he set off to complete his errand, though his mind was already working ahead. If trouble was lurking in the village, he had to find it before it found Ram.

Coming out of the bakery with a bag full of fresh bread, Subaru glanced up at the sky, noting how low the sun had dipped. For a moment, he entertained the idea that whatever had led to Ram’s death might have already been diverted. This loop was nothing like the last—so much had already changed. Maybe, just maybe, he had managed to alter fate.

“Who are you?”

Startled, Subaru looked down to see a young girl with auburn-red hair and a bright red bow gazing up at him with curiosity.

“Me? Oh, I’m Subaru.”

“Subaru?” The girl tilted her head. “I’m Petra. You’re new. Say, you’re dressed in one of those… uniforms, I think?”

“Yeah, I suppose you could call it that,” Subaru chuckled. “I’m Lord Roswaal’s new apprentice.”

“Apprentice? Lords have apprentices?” Petra’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Apparently,” Subaru said with a grin.

“Petra! Come on!” a brown-haired boy called from nearby.

Before she ran off, Petra perked up again. “Hey! Want to see the puppy that Meili found?” she asked excitedly.

“I don’t know… I’ve got a lot of work to do,” Subaru smirked, feigning reluctance.

“Pleeeeeease? He’s super cute!”

Subaru pretended to think long and hard before finally relenting with a smile. “Oh, alright. Just this once, okay?”

“Yay! Come on!” Petra grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the fence line near the woods, where a group of village children had gathered.

A girl with navy-blue hair was leaning against the fence, gently cradling a small, scruffy puppy. The little thing wagged its tail happily, panting with excitement. Subaru immediately noticed, however, that it wasn’t in the best condition—it had a large bald patch on its head, and its fur looked a little rough.

“Wanna see?” the girl asked, holding up the puppy proudly.

“I guess?” Subaru reached out and scratched behind its ears.

For a moment, the pup seemed to enjoy the attention. Then, without warning, it latched onto his hand with sharp little teeth.

“Ouch!” Subaru yanked his arm away, shaking it off as a sting shot up his arm. “I guess he’s not that friendly.”

“He’s usually nice to strangers. Must just be you!” Petra giggled.

“Subaru.”

He turned to see Ram standing nearby, a bag of vegetables in her arms, her expression as unreadable as ever.

“I told you not to get sidetracked,” she said coolly. “Lord Roswaal will need to teach you how to listen.”

“Do you have to be so harsh?” Subaru sighed, rubbing his sore hand.

“Miss Ram! Do you wanna see the puppy?” Petra beamed up at her.

“As much as I would love to entertain you all, we have to be going,” Ram said, though her tone was surprisingly gentle with the children.

Maybe she can be nice, Subaru thought with amusement.

“I’m sure we’ll be back soon enough,” he assured the kids with a smile before following Ram back toward the village center.

“We do have one more stop…” she said, glancing ahead with purpose.

***

Subaru’s back throbbed, the weight of the barrel still lingering in his muscles long after he had set it down. Ram, ever meticulous, had ensured it was packed to its absolute limit, likely knowing full well that he’d be the one hauling it back. Even with the aid of mana, the strain left him sore.

To his surprise, upon his return, Roswaal had made an offhand remark about having urgent business with “someone most troublesome.” The cryptic choice of words was enough to spark Subaru’s curiosity, but what truly caught his attention was Roswaal’s attire. The mage had changed into formal clothing—an unmistakable sign that this meeting was of great significance.

Before Subaru could even think to ask for details, Roswaal had simply smirked, delivered one of his usual sing-song farewells, and then, without another word, ascended into the sky.

Subaru had heard tales of powerful mages being able to fly, but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely. It was one thing to know such feats were possible; it was another to watch Roswaal vanish into the horizon like some whimsical bird.

"Well, that’s a thing," Subaru muttered, rubbing his temples. Whatever Roswaal was up to, it was clearly above his pay grade.

Still, as far as he could tell, nothing had gone wrong with Ram. He had kept a close eye on her in the village, scanning the crowds for any potential threats. A pickpocket would have been easy to spot, so he reasoned that anything more serious—assassins, cultists, or whatever else might lurk in the shadows—would be just as noticeable. At least, that was what he hoped.

If Ram still dies tonight… at the very least, Rom should be spared… I hope, Subaru thought grimly, the weight of that uncertainty pressing down on him as he made his way to his room. The idea of the old man getting tangled up in this mess again was one he couldn’t stomach.

Eager to collapse into bed, Subaru trudged to his room and pushed open the door with a sigh—

—only to step into the Forbidden Library.

“Oh… you again. Go away, I suppose.”

Subaru blinked, caught off guard. Beatrice sat in her usual chair, a book in hand, her expression as exasperated as ever.

“Oh, sorry, I thought this was my room,” Subaru said, quickly stepping back before pausing. “Wait, do you decide which door leads here, or is it random?”

“I’m not telling, I suppose,” Beatrice huffed, turning a page with pointed disinterest.

“Well… while I’m here, do you mind if I get some late-night reading in?”

“Why should I let you touch even one of my books?” she shot back, eyes narrowing.

“Well, I kinda neglected my gem training today, so I figured catching up on the books Roswaal assigned me might make up for it,” Subaru admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Beatrice scoffed. “So you’re rude and lazy. I shouldn’t have to put up with you, I suppose.”

“Please?”

She gave him a long, scrutinizing look before exhaling sharply. “Fine. But if you annoy me, I’ll throw you out again, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Subaru said, bowing exaggeratedly before making his way down the row where Roswaal had led him last time.

Soon enough, he had the familiar tomes in hand, settling into a chair to read. He planned to stay up late, keeping himself occupied until he could check on Ram. Sleeping tonight felt pointless—he’d remain awake until he was certain she was safe.

The book’s contents were as dry as ever. Informative, sure, but dense enough that Subaru felt sleep creeping in the deeper he read. His mind wandered, his focus slipping between the lines until a small poke at his hand snapped him back to attention.

Blinking, he looked up to find Beatrice leaning over the desk, her sharp gaze locked onto his hand with an expression of scrutiny.

“Um… hi?” Subaru ventured, shifting slightly.

“Hmmm… what have you done to yourself, I suppose?” she muttered, her voice laced with mild irritation.

Subaru followed her gaze, realizing she was fixated on the small wound from the dog bite. “This? Oh, just a little love bite from a stray some kids in the village found. No big deal,” he shrugged.

“‘No big deal’? Then Betty has no reason to waste her time here, I suppose,” she huffed, turning away with an air of dismissal.

Subaru arched an eyebrow. “Wait… is it a big deal?”

“It could be, I suppose,” she admitted, though her frown deepened.

“Are you going to be cryptic about this, or is the bite actually getting infected or something?” He turned his hand over, inspecting it. The wound was barely more than a few punctures, the skin only slightly broken. It hadn’t even bled much.

Beatrice sniffed, arms crossed. “If you apologize for earlier, I might help, I suppose.”

Subaru couldn’t help but think she was acting closer to her apparent age than the centuries-old spirit she actually was.

Sighing, he relented. “Fine. I’m sorry, I was a little harsh before.”

She studied him for a long moment, as if weighing his sincerity, then nodded slightly, her gaze returning to his hand.

“You are cursed, I suppose.”

Chapter 9: ARC 1 - Chapter 8: Bad Dog

ARC I

---

Chapter VIII:

Bad Dog

---

"Cursed?" Subaru blinked. "What kind of curse?"

"The deadly kind, I suppose," Beatrice said, eyeing his hand.

"You mean… whatever gave me this, cursed me?!" Subaru glanced at his hand, a wave of nausea washing over him.

"I can remove the curse, I suppose," Beatrice said flatly.

"I mean… yeah, please!" He thrust his hand toward her like it was burning.

With a brief glow from her fingertips, Beatrice reached out, touched his hand, and then immediately pulled away. "Done," she said, already turning back to her book.

"That's it? Well… that was simple, I suppose."

"Simple, you suppose?" Beatrice scoffed.

Then it hit him. Ram must have been the one cursed last time… Wait… the kids!

Subaru bolted to his feet. "Beatrice! I know what gave me this. There was a puppy—some kind of witchbeast. All of the kids in the village were playing with it," he said, feeling a chill crawl up his spine. "We need to make sure everyone's okay."

"No." Beatrice turned on her heel and sat back down, already flipping a page.

"No?! What do you mean no?!" Subaru's voice rose in disbelief.

"I am the guardian of this library, not the guardian of a village, I suppose."

"How can you just sit in here and do nothing?!" Subaru clenched his fists.

"I don't have any obligation to them, I suppose." Beatrice didn't even look up.

"What does obligation have to do with it? There are kids in danger—if we can help, we have a moral duty!" Subaru snapped.

"I have watched so many people come and go, I suppose," Beatrice said idly, flipping another page without sparing him a glance.

Subaru wanted to keep arguing, but he didn't have time to waste debating with a spirit over the value of life. Cursing under his breath, he shoved open the library doors and stepped into the hallway, letting the Forbidden Library vanish behind him.

He sprinted down the corridor, heart pounding until he reached Rom's door. Pushing it open, he found the giant fast asleep, his heavy snores filling the room. Subaru rushed to his bedside and shook him with all the strength he could muster. "Get up, old man!"

Rom groaned, cracking one eye open. "What is it, son?"

"There's trouble in the village. I was bitten by a witchbeast disguised as a puppy and cursed," Subaru said in a rush. "Beatrice removed it, but most of the kids in the village were playing with the damn thing!"

Rom sat up with a deep frown. "Not good… What exactly do you want to do about it?"

"Roswaal is gone, and Beatrice is—well, not helpful at all," Subaru gritted his teeth. "We have to go to Emilia."

"What do you expect that girl to do?"

"She outranks Roswaal, so it stands to reason she's in charge. Plus, she might be able to do something about the curses," Subaru reasoned.

Rom exhaled heavily. "What do you need me for?"

"You're big and strong. Best case, we just kill a simple little mutt and move on. Worst case…"

"I get it." Rom pushed himself out of bed, the floor creaking under his weight. He rolled his shoulders before giving Subaru a nod. "Lead on, son."

The pair made their way to Emilia's room, moving swiftly through the manor's dimly lit halls. When they reached the half-elf's door, Subaru hesitated. Barging into a woman's bedroom unannounced, noble or not, seemed like a bad idea. Instead, he knocked firmly, calling out for her.

A long minute passed before the door creaked open, revealing Emilia rubbing her eyes. Her usually pristine silver hair was a tousled mess, and her drowsy expression made it clear she had just woken up. She yawned, blinking between Subaru and Rom, still half-asleep.

"Subaru? Rom? What is it?" Her voice was thick with grogginess.

"There's a problem in the village," Subaru said, urgency sharpening his tone.

Emilia straightened, the sleepiness in her eyes vanishing. "A problem? What sort of problem?"

"A Witchbeast bit me," he held up his hand, showing the faint mark left behind. "Beatrice caught it in time and removed the curse, but the kids in the village were playing with the same mutt. If it bit me, it probably bit them too."

Emilia's breath hitched. "That's not good. W-what do we do?"

"You're the one in charge here," Subaru reminded her, watching her expression shift as the weight of responsibility settled on her shoulders.

"R-right," she caught herself, nodding quickly. "I'll get dressed."

"Alright. In the meantime, I'll wake up Ram and Rem," Subaru said. He wasn't thrilled about involving the maids, but dragging Emilia into town without informing them would be asking for trouble.

Rushing to the maids' quarters, Subaru pounded on their doors without hesitation. There was no time for subtlety, no time to deal with Ram's usual condescension or Rem's lingering suspicion.

Rem's narrowed eyes told him she still didn't fully trust him, but Ram, in contrast, seemed to grasp the weight of the situation immediately. When the pink-haired maid agreed to follow them without argument, Subaru felt a measure of relief. Between all of them, no Witchbeast short of the White Whale itself should be a serious threat.

Once the manor was fully roused, everyone gathered in the foyer. Subaru turned to Emilia, who was pacing back and forth, clearly trying to gather her thoughts.

"Seems everyone is awake," Subaru said, crossing his arms. "So, how should we handle this, Emilia?"

"Oh, umm…" Emilia hesitated, caught off guard. "Well… we need to make sure everyone in the village is alright first."

"Simple enough," Subaru agreed.

"Well, it would help if we could figure out how the Witchbeast got into the village," Rom interjected. "From what I know, these woods are notorious for Wolgarms. I'd be shocked if Arlam wasn't protected against them."

"There is a barrier created by the Mathers family many years ago to ward off most forms of Witchbeasts," Ram stated matter-of-factly. "It should be quite impossible for one to cross if the barrier is functioning properly."

"Right, so that means there must be an issue with the barrier, right?" Subaru reasoned.

"That is one possibility, yes," Ram nodded.

"We should investigate as soon as possible," Emilia said, her voice firm with determination.

"If the barrier is down, can you repair it?" Rom asked.

"I should be able to," Emilia replied, confidence growing in her tone.

"I will remain here," Ram announced.

"Sister, wouldn't it be best if you went with us?" Rem asked, frowning slightly.

"Someone must watch over the manor," Ram replied curtly.

"Beatrice didn't seem too interested in leaving. Can't she watch the place?" Subaru asked, a bit frustrated.

"While Lady Beatrice may be the guardian of the library, she has little interest in the protection of the manor as a whole," Ram explained.

No wonder she refused to help, Subaru thought bitterly. She barely cares about this house, let alone a village outside of it.

"We need to move, the four of us should be more than enough to deal with a handful of Wolgarms," Subaru nodded.

With everyone in agreement, Emilia hesitantly led the group out of the manor and toward the village. If they were lucky, none of the children would be cursed, and their task would be as simple as checking for afflictions and repairing any damage to the barrier.

Their pace was swift, urgency pressing down on them as they neared the outskirts. Even from a distance, Subaru could see the flickering of torches scattered throughout the village, illuminating frantic villagers searching the darkened streets.

As they entered the village proper, Subaru spotted a man calling out names, his voice raw with desperation. Upon noticing the approaching group, the man quickly turned, casting the glow of his torch over them. His expression darkened when his gaze landed on Emilia, and she shifted uneasily under his scrutiny.

"You're all from the Mathers place," he noted, eyes narrowing further when he fully took in Emilia.

"What's happened?" Subaru asked, ignoring the tension in the air.

"Most of the children have gone missing," the man explained, his voice tight with worry. "The whole village is out searching for them. Have you any news?"

Subaru opened his mouth, about to mention the curse, but before he could speak, Emilia stepped forward.

"Our friend Subaru here was cursed by a witchbeast," she said, her tone measured. "He believes it may have been the puppy he saw the children playing with earlier."

The man's gaze hardened further. "You're that half-elf girl that's been seen up at the manor."

"She's in charge while Lord Roswaal is away," Subaru interjected firmly, sensing the shift in the man's demeanor. He knew all too well the deep-seated suspicion people held for half-elves, and Emilia's silver hair didn't help matters. "We're here to help."

Rem, standing at Emilia's side, gave a curt nod. "Yes, she is an extension of our master in his absence."

The man hesitated, clearly weighing his options, but the distant shouts of villagers calling out for the missing children seemed to spur him into action. "Understood. Best we head to the village center. We can coordinate our efforts there."

"I remember where we were when the pup bit me," Subaru said. "It'd be best to investigate that area first."

"I'll go with you," Rem stepped forward, her sharp gaze scrutinizing him. Whether she still suspected him or not, Subaru didn't have the time or patience to care.

"Fine," Subaru exhaled, glancing toward Emilia. "Does that work for you?"

Emilia blinked, seeming a little surprised to be consulted so directly. "What? Oh—yes, that should be good."

Heading for the wooden fencing where Subaru had last seen the puppy, Rem close behind, Subaru scanned the treeline. Along the woodline, several trees bore green crystals fixed to metal sconces, their glow illuminating the darkness—except for one, just beyond the fencing.

"There," Subaru pointed, vaulting over the fence and moving toward the treeline. His eyes darted around, searching for any signs of witchbeasts. "Is this the barrier line?"

Rem nodded. "It is. But it should be glowing like the others."

Subaru frowned. "So the barrier is down. Great." He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Alright, let's report back to Emilia."

Turning on his heel, Subaru led the way back to the village square, where nearly the entire town had gathered. A chaotic chorus of shouts and cries filled the air, villagers arguing, pointing fingers, and panicking.

At the center of the commotion, Emilia stood surrounded, her frantic attempts to reason with the crowd barely making an impact. Rom, meanwhile, positioned himself protectively in front of her, keeping a few of the more aggressive men at bay.

"Hey!" Subaru shouted, shoving his way to the middle of the mob. "Hey! Shut it and listen up!"

It took several shouts—and an elbow to the chin—but by the time he reached Emilia's side, the villagers had quieted. Rubbing his jaw, Subaru took a breath and addressed the crowd.

"The barrier's broken at the fence where that dog the kids were playing with was. I'm sure that thing cursed all the kids like it did me."

Gasps rippled through the gathering, a wave of panic setting in.

"My boys are out there!"

"There are Wolgrams in those woods!"

"It must have been her!" someone accused.

Subaru's temper flared. "Shut your traps!" he barked, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "We're here to help! Any insinuation otherwise is pure crap, got it?!"

A squeeze on his arm made him pause. Glancing over, he saw Emilia giving him a pointed look. She wanted to speak. Begrudgingly, Subaru stepped back, letting her take the lead.

"As I was saying," Emilia said, her voice calm but firm, "we can find the children. I'll repair any damage to the barrier while the others search for them. Once I'm finished, I'll join in the search myself. I promise with all my heart that we will bring them home."

The panicked murmuring softened, uncertainty lingering until a path formed through the villagers. An elderly woman stepped forward, someone Subaru recognized as the village elder from his first visit.

"You lot seem to be the best bet we have," she said, looking them over with a measured gaze. After a pause, she gave a slow nod. "Please, bring the little ones home."

Emilia returned the nod, sharper this time. "We will. I swear it."

Turning back to Subaru and the others, she took a deep breath. "Let's move."

"Before we go, someone, get me a blade," Subaru said firmly.

---

The search through the forest was frantic. The borrowed sword at his hip provided a small sense of security, though it wasn't the dagger he was accustomed to. Still, the longer reach was something he could appreciate.

The woods were unnervingly quiet, the torchlight casting long, flickering shadows against the trees. Subaru kept his senses sharp, scanning for any signs of the missing children. It would have been easier if the entire village had joined the search, but the threat of Wolgrams picking off unarmed villagers was too great.

So they searched, and searched, until—

"I see something!" Rom pointed toward a clearing.

Without hesitation, the three of them rushed forward, breaking onto a grassy hillside. There, the missing children lay sprawled on their backs, motionless, their faces pale and glistening with sweat.

Subaru dropped to his knees beside Petra, pressing the back of his hand against her forehead.

"She's burning up," he muttered before glancing at Rem. "Can you do anything?"

Rem knelt beside him, placing a hand over the girl's head as a faint glow of healing magic spread over her. "I can ease their symptoms, but removing a curse like this is beyond my ability."

Subaru grimaced, watching as Petra's eyes fluttered open slightly.

"W-where am I?" she mumbled weakly.

Subaru gently squeezed her hand. "It's okay. We're here to help. Just rest, alright?"

Petra's brows furrowed as she looked around, searching for something. "Where's Meili?"

Subaru immediately scanned the clearing. The other children were all there, but the blue-haired girl who had been holding the cursed puppy earlier was nowhere to be seen. His stomach twisted.

"Petra, is everyone else here?" he asked carefully.

She gave a weak nod.

Subaru forced a smile. "Don't worry about Meili. We're going to find her, so just rest for now, okay?"

Petra, too exhausted to fight off sleep any longer, closed her eyes and drifted off.

Subaru stood and turned to Rom, casting his torchlight over the resting children. "Old man, can you get these kids back to the village on your own?"

Rom grunted, rolling his shoulders as he surveyed the group. "Should only take me one trip."

Subaru nodded before turning to Rem. "We should split up—we'll cover more ground that way."

Rem's expression remained impassive. "If the witchbeasts took this girl, she's likely already dead."

Subaru's grip on the hilt of his sword tightened. "I'm not leaving until I know for certain. If there's even a chance she's alive, I have to try."

Rem opened her mouth as if to protest, but something in his expression made her hesitate. She exhaled quietly before giving a small nod. "I'll stabilize the children here, then assist in the search."

"Good." Without wasting another second, Subaru turned and sprinted into the woods, torchlight flickering as he began his search.

Subaru scoured the forest, his ears straining for any sound beyond the rustling of leaves and the distant hoots of nocturnal birds. Alone in the dark, every shifting shadow put him on edge. He was confident he could handle himself against one or two Wolgrams, but from what he knew, they rarely hunted alone.

Still, his chief concern was finding Meili.

It was nearly twenty minutes of searching before he stumbled through the brush into a small clearing. His breath caught as he spotted a small figure with dark blue hair lying motionless on the forest floor. Letting out a slow exhale, he scanned the area for any signs of movement before rushing to the girl's side. Kneeling, he placed a hand on her forehead—she was burning up.

Frowning, Subaru moved to scoop her up when a rustling from behind sent his instincts into overdrive. His hand flew to the sword at his hip, drawing it in one swift motion. He whirled around blade at the ready, only to halt just in time as a flash of silver hair met his gaze.

"By the Dragon, you scared the shit out of me," Subaru groaned, exhaling sharply.

"You certainly gave me a fright too, Subaru," Emilia chuckled nervously, stepping forward as he lowered his blade.

"Rom told me one of the children was still missing, so I came to help," she added, her violet eyes filled with concern.

Subaru nodded toward Meili. "Can you stabilize her?"

"Of course." Emilia knelt beside the girl, placing her hands gently over her chest as a soft, bluish-white glow spread from her palms.

As she worked, Subaru scanned the tree line, still on high alert. "Any sign of Rem?"

Before Emilia could answer, a familiar massive figure emerged from the undergrowth. Rom lumbered into the clearing, carrying what looked like an entire tree trunk over his shoulder—repurposed into a makeshift club.

"No," Emilia shook her head.

"She ran off after you once she finished with the other kids," Rom added.

"I haven't seen or heard any—" Subaru started, but his words were cut short by a chilling sound.

A distant howl split the night, its eerie resonance sending a shiver down his spine. Almost instantly, more howls answered from all around them, their overlapping voices forming a menacing chorus in the dark.

Subaru's grip tightened on his sword. "That's not good."

Emilia finished her spell, her eyes darting around the trees. "We should be able to move her now."

"Take Meili back," Subaru instructed. "As much as I hate to say it, but if I had to guess…"

"That Rem girl must have caused that commotion," Rom finished grimly.

"I'll go with you," Emilia said firmly.

"No, Rom and I—" Subaru started, but the old giant cut him off.

"She's right, son. Besides, she's the boss, remember?" Rom reminded him, easily lifting the unconscious Meili into his arms.

Emilia crossed her arms, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We're going to find Rem—together. Understood?"

"Fine, don't get hurt now, old man," Subaru smirked.

"I could say the same to you both," Rom smirked back before lumbering off toward the village with Meili tucked securely in his massive arms.

Subaru and Emilia sprinted side by side, racing toward the source of the howling. It didn't take long for things to get dicey.

The first sign of trouble came as a glint of red eyes in the darkness. Subaru twisted, pulling mana into his limbs just as the first Wolgram burst from the underbrush. His sword flashed in the firelight, catching the beast's throat in a clean slash. A high-pitched whimper tore through the night as the creature crumpled, thrashing as its blood pooled into the dirt.

Emilia's gaze flickered around, and almost immediately, tiny glowing lights flared to life around her—her lesser spirits responding to her call. With a lift of her hand, several ice missiles materialized in the air before launching into the trees. The guttural cries that followed confirmed her mark had found its target.

"We have to keep moving," Subaru urged, his grip tightening on his sword as they pushed deeper into the woods.

Several ambushes later, they heard Rem's battle cries just up ahead. When she finally came into view, Subaru felt a curse rise to his lips.

Rem stood in the center of a sea of Wolgrams—hundreds of them, flinging themselves at her with reckless abandon. Her morning star was a whirlwind of death, smashing through their ranks with brutal efficiency, but even as she fought with terrifying ferocity, the sheer number of them was overwhelming. Blood trickled from various wounds across her body, scratches, and bite marks marring her otherwise flawless skin.

"We have to help her!" Subaru said firmly, ready to charge in, but Emilia grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"Wait, Subaru!" Her voice was urgent. "If Rem stays like this for too long, she'll lose herself. She might not be able to tell us apart from the Wolgrams."

Subaru hesitated, his eyes locking onto Rem's wild expression—her pupils dilated, her breathing ragged, and a twisted, almost euphoric grin stretched across her face. It was clear she wasn't registering pain, wasn't holding back. Right now, she was a demon in every sense of the word.

Subaru clenched his teeth. "Then we clear the Wolgrams first, and we deal with calming her down after."

Emilia nodded, her hands already glowing with mana. "I'll cover you, just like when we fought Elsa."

It was as good a plan as any. Subaru didn't waste another second.

Summoning his mana, he surged forward in a blur of movement, cutting through Wolgrams as fast as he could manage. They were quick, their reflexes sharp, but he relied on Emilia's support to cover his blind spots. Every time a beast lunged from his periphery, an ice missile cut it down before it could reach him.

Still, the fight was anything but easy. More than once, Subaru found himself rolling out of the way as Rem's morning star came crashing down, obliterating everything in its path. He barely dodged in time, the sheer force of her swings sending shockwaves through the ground.

She was fighting like a demon unleashed. And if they didn't end this soon, she might not be able to stop.

Subaru felt the creeping edges of fatigue settling in. His arms were growing heavier with each swing, his breath ragged, but he couldn't stop now. Just beyond the horde of Wolgrams, he caught sight of the familiar tiny, balding puppy—its teeth bared in what almost looked like a smug, snarling smirk.

That tiny bastard. Subaru had no doubt now—it was the pack's leader, despite its diminutive size.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Emilia perched atop an ice platform, raining down support fire. Smart. It kept her out of reach from the Wolgrams while giving her the perfect vantage point to assist him.

A blur of movement in his peripheral vision sent his instincts into overdrive. Subaru leapt just in time as Rem's morning star whistled past, obliterating several Wolgrams instead.

"Damn it, Rem!" Subaru cursed, but before he could react, she was already whipping her weapon back. He barely raised his sword in time to block.

The impact rattled his entire body, even through his mana-enforced limbs. He was launched backward, the force slamming into his core. Emilia's voice rang out in alarm, but Subaru had no time to focus on it—he twisted midair, bracing himself as he hit the ground and rolled.

Before he could fully recover, three Wolgrams pounced. He slashed the first through the throat, but the other two sank their teeth into him—one clamping onto his right arm, the other tearing into his leg.

Agony exploded through his body. A searing, burning pain crawled from the wounds, spreading like wildfire. The curse. He knew it instantly.

Subaru gritted his teeth, but before the beasts could do further damage, twin ice missiles impaled them, sending their lifeless bodies crumpling beside him.

Pushing through the pain, Subaru forced himself up, blood soaking into the fabric of his clothes. He locked eyes on the damned pup, rage fueling his battered body.

Surging forward, he cut his way through the pack, determined to take its leader's head. But the Wolgrams seemed to sense his intent. The majority of them turned, surging toward him in a relentless wave.

He was in trouble.

Then, with terrifying force, Rem launched herself into the fray, her morning star carving through Wolgrams like a whirlwind of death.

Subaru barely had time to react before he realized she wasn't just tearing through the beasts—she was swinging at anything that moved. Him included.

He was fighting on two fronts now. Witchbeasts and a berserk demon maid.

Subaru grimaced. He was a decent enough fighter, but this? This was beyond him. Fighting a couple of thugs in the slums was one thing, but an entire horde of witchbeasts and a rampaging Rem? Even with Emilia's support, it was too much.

He needed a way out—fast.

Pulling mana into his legs, Subaru pushed off the ground with all his strength, his right thigh screaming in protest where the Wolgram had bitten him. He launched himself into the air, using the trunk of a massive oak to propel forward, sword poised for the kill. His target—the smug little mutt orchestrating this nightmare.

But as his blade neared its mark, the tiny creature convulsed, its body twisting and stretching at an unnatural speed. In the blink of an eye, what had once been a small, unassuming pup transformed into a monstrous, two-story-tall Wolgram, its spiked tail lashing and sword-like teeth gleaming in the torchlight.

Subaru's blood ran cold.

No time to redirect. No way to stop. He was sailing straight into the gaping maw of the beast.

Shit.

"Minya."

A calm voice spoke, utterly unbothered by the chaos.

In an instant, a barrage of purple crystals rained down, striking the massive Wolgram's side. Wherever they landed, the beast's flesh crystallized, spreading rapidly like a creeping frost.

Regaining his composure midair, Subaru swung with everything he had. The borrowed sword rattled on impact, cracks spider-webbing along its edge, but it held long enough—his strike shattered the beast's crystallized neck.

The pack let out a collective wail of distress as their leader collapsed, bursting apart in a gruesome mixture of flesh and glittering shards. The surviving Wolgrams hesitated only a moment before instinct took over. They turned and fled, vanishing into the darkness of the woods.

Breathing heavily, Subaru turned just in time to hear Rem's guttural shout. Before he could react, black mist engulfed her, and in the next moment, she crumpled face-first into the forest floor.

"Rem!" Subaru staggered toward her, but then his eyes caught sight of someone standing over her.

Small, dressed in elaborate frilly robes, with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Beatrice?" Subaru exhaled, surprised.

"Who else were you expecting, I suppose?" she huffed, crossing her arms.

Blinking, Subaru sheathed his sword and limped toward Beatrice, his arm and leg now pulsing with pain. "I thought you had no interest in helping the villagers," he smirked, forcing some humor into his voice despite his exhaustion.

"I don't. I simply knew Lady Emilia would be here, and if anything happened to her, Bubby would be mad, I suppose," Beatrice huffed, turning her nose up.

"Betty, you're ridiculous," Subaru chuckled, shaking his head.

"Only Bubby and Ros—hey!" Beatrice started, but before she could finish, Subaru scooped her up, lifting her into the air and spinning her around in an ecstatic burst of gratitude.

"You lovable librarian, you saved our asses!" Subaru couldn't help but laugh with relief. He was so happy, he could have kissed her.

"Let me down, I suppose!" Beatrice squealed, squirming in his grasp until Subaru finally set her back on the ground. She adjusted her dress, shooting him an indignant glare before turning away with an exaggerated huff.

Subaru didn't care. He felt a pang of guilt for having judged her so harshly before, but despite all her posturing, Beatrice had a heart—even if she refused to admit it.

"Subaru!" Emilia's voice rang out as she rushed over from her perch, her violet eyes filled with worry. "You're hurt."

"What? Oh, this?" Subaru glanced down at his blood-stained and ripped clothing, suddenly feeling the weight of his injuries now that the adrenaline was fading. "Yeah, it stings, but I'll live."

"Stop being silly. Sit down—I'll heal you," Emilia said firmly before turning to Beatrice with a warm smile. "Thank you, Beatrice. Without you, we could have been seriously hurt. I don't think we could have handled both Rem and those Wolgrams alone."

Beatrice sniffed, clearly unimpressed by the gratitude. "You are welcome," she muttered, though the hint of color dusting her cheeks betrayed her. Without another word, she turned to Rem, kneeling beside her unconscious form. "Betty will remove the curse on this one too, I suppose."

As Beatrice set to work, Emilia placed a gentle hand on Subaru's arm, channeling her healing magic into his wounds. The soothing warmth spread through his battered body, easing the pain. Subaru let out a deep sigh, allowing himself to relax for the first time that night.

By the time they arrived back in the village, Subaru felt exhaustion dragging at every fiber of his body. He had insisted on carrying Rem back, and while she wasn't heavy, his body had long since passed the point of wanting to collapse. Every step felt like trudging through thick mud, his limbs weighed down by fatigue and the dull ache of his injuries.

Upon their return, he learned that the villagers had already taken the children to their homes and put them to bed. From what he gathered, Beatrice had removed the curses from each of them before slipping away into the woods to come to their aid. Subaru made a mental note to thank her again properly later.

Their arrival was met with a flood of grateful villagers, parents, and elders alike swarming Emilia with words of thanks, relief, and more than a few apologies. Subaru noted the stunned look on her face, her violet eyes darting around as she struggled to process the sudden warmth being directed at her. She had spent so long being feared or distrusted that genuine gratitude seemed almost foreign to her.

Subaru smiled at the sight, feeling a sense of satisfaction settle in his chest. It was good to see her being acknowledged for being such a kindhearted person. But as much as he wanted to soak in the moment, his body had other plans.

Dragging Rem into a spare dwelling, he gently set her down on the bed, ensuring she was comfortable before stepping back. He lingered for a moment, giving her one last appraising glance. Her breathing was even, her expression peaceful in sleep—so different from the fierce, battle-hardened version of her he'd faced in the forest.

With a heavy sigh, Subaru slumped into a chair beside the bed. The second his body touched the seat, exhaustion crashed over him like a tidal wave, and before he could even think about moving, sleep claimed him.

Chapter 10: ARC 1 - Chapter 9: Foolish Oni

ARC I

---

Chapter IX:

Foolish Oni

---

The last thing Rem remembered was being in the middle of the forest when a storm of Wolgrams descended upon her. She had called upon her horn, and then… lost herself.

It was a bit of a surprise when she awoke in a foreign bed, her entire body aching. Looking around, she had a vague sense that she was probably somewhere in Arlam. The dim lighting filtering through the wooden window panels confirmed it was still early.

Pushing herself up, she scanned the room before her eyes landed on the man slumped in the chair beside her bed—Subaru Natsuki. His head rested against his shoulder, his arms crossed in a way that suggested he'd fallen asleep in an attempt to stay upright. Even in slumber, his expression was lax, his breathing slow and steady.

For a moment, she inhaled sharply. The stench of the Witch still clung to him, though it had faded somewhat since last night. Instinct told her to recoil, to reinforce her initial suspicions. But then… she hesitated.

Was he truly terrible?

Subaru had raised the alarm about the missing children, organized the search party, and, by all accounts, risked his life alongside Lady Emilia. Focusing harder, fragmented memories of the previous night surfaced—flashes of Emilia launching ice lances, Subaru cutting through the beasts with a borrowed sword, and then… Beatrice. It was all hazy, like a dream viewed through frosted glass, but one thing was certain: she had been in danger. And Subaru had come for her.

Pushing aside the covers, Rem sat at the edge of the bed, turning her head to look at him properly for the first time. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his usual smirk absent in the stillness of sleep. He was… rather handsome, she realized. A warm flush crept onto her cheeks at the thought, and she quickly shook her head to banish it.

Before she could dwell on it further, a soft knock at the door made her sit up straighter.

"C-come in," she said quickly.

The door swung open, and her twin sister entered, carrying a fresh uniform draped over her arm and a basket filled with steaming potatoes.

"You’re awake, Rem," Ram noted, walking over to the nearby table and setting down the clothes and food.

"I am, Sister," Rem replied, standing to give a small bow. "Do you know what happened last evening?"

"So, you did use your horn," Ram observed. "It appears Lord Roswaal’s apprentice and Lady Emilia achieved their goals, though only because Lady Beatrice intervened."

Rem frowned, piecing together what little she remembered. "I don’t recall much, but I do think I was in trouble before they arrived."

"Then it is good Subaru and Lady Emilia came to your aid," Ram said, taking a potato from the basket and offering it to her. "Freshly steamed."

Rem accepted it, taking a bite. The warmth spread through her, soothing the lingering exhaustion. "Very good. I approve."

Ram smirked before glancing at Subaru. "Shall I wake our colleague so you may change? I also brought fresh garments for him, though it would be inappropriate—"

"No," Rem blurted, a little too quickly. She cleared her throat, regaining composure. "I mean… I will wake him. Thank you, Sister."

Ram raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely setting aside two extra potatoes for Subaru before taking her leave.

As the door clicked shut, Rem turned back to Subaru. For the first time, she felt… foolish.

Had she truly judged him so wrongly?

The scent of the Witch was undeniable, but his actions contradicted everything she had assumed. He had saved Lady Emilia, earned the trust of Lord Roswaal, and risked his life for the children of the village. He had even come to her aid, and, despite being injured himself, had stayed at her bedside all night.

She exhaled slowly, perplexed and—more than anything—ashamed.

Taking a breath, she walked over and poked his cheek.

Subaru only snorted in response, shifting slightly but not waking.

Again, she poked him—once, twice—then—

"I’m awake, Mom, I swear!" Subaru jolted upright, his voice thick with sleep, eyes still half-lidded

Rem quickly pulled her hand back as Subaru shook off the last traces of sleep, his gaze focusing on her as he fully registered his surroundings.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Didn’t even realize I fell asleep.” He attempted to push himself up from the chair, but the moment he shifted his weight, he winced, favoring his right side.

“L-let me help,” Rem said quickly, stepping forward to steady him before he could protest.

Subaru hesitated for a second but then nodded. “Thanks,” he muttered, leaning into her support just enough to find his footing.

The moment he was standing, Rem instinctively stepped back, her hands clasping in front of her as an unfamiliar awkwardness settled between them. She glanced at the floor, shifting slightly, struggling to voice the thoughts swirling in her mind.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out at last, her voice quiet but firm.

Subaru blinked, caught off guard. “Sorry? For what?”

“For… misjudging you,” she admitted after a long pause, before quickly shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. “There are fresh clothes and food. You should change and eat.”

Before Subaru could respond, before he could flash that knowing smirk or make some teasing remark, Rem snatched up her own uniform and practically fled the room. The door shut behind her with a decisive thud, leaving her standing in the crisp morning air, her heart pounding harder than she expected.

What is wrong with me?

She had no explanation for the strange warmth settling in her chest or the lingering sensation of his weight against her arm. It was foreign. Unfamiliar.

Shaking her head, Rem forced herself to push aside the foolish thoughts. This was no time for distractions. She needed to find a place to change, and after that, she had a uniform to mend—assuming it was salvageable.

The rest of the day, Rem avoided the mage apprentice. She spent her time assisting her sister with helping the villagers with their chores while Lady Emilia, accompanied by her contracted spirit, Puck, performed check-ups on the children. At Emilia’s insistence, Puck played with the little ones, lifting their spirits after the prior night's ordeal.

By evening, everything had been deemed in order, and with their work in the village concluded, they prepared to return to the manor.

Rem lingered behind, carrying a basket full of fresh produce, her eyes subtly drawn toward Subaru and Rom. The pair stood apart from the others, engaged in deep discussion. From what little she could overhear, Subaru was talking about repairing a damaged sword. The familiarity between them was evident—the easy camaraderie, the way they spoke without the need for formalities. It was clear that Rom was not just a guardian to Subaru, but someone the young man regarded as family.

The rest of the evening proceeded as usual—preparing dinner for the household and organizing tasks for the next morning. Rem made sure to avoid bringing Subaru his meal, quietly leaving that task to Ram.

The next morning, Lord Roswaal returned.

Sweeping into the manor still dressed in his formal attire—an unusual sight given his usual flamboyant preferences—he made his way to the grand foyer, where both Rem and Ram awaited him.

“Aaaaaah, how did things gooooo in my absence?” he drawled, his ever-present smirk curling at the edges of his lips.

“There was some trouble in Arlam the night of your departure, Master Roswaal,” Ram reported, bowing.

“Oh dear, what soooort of trouble?” His tone was light, but there was a knowing gleam in his mismatched eyes.

“The barrier failed in a small section. There was a witchbeast attack on the children. Thanks to your new apprentice’s luck, it was discovered in time and dealt with by Lady Emilia,” Ram explained succinctly.

“Interesting,” Roswaal mused, his smirk widening just slightly. “I will have to speak with him then.” He turned his gaze to Rem, studying her with a casual, knowing glance. “Rem, be a darling and fetch our young mage-in-progress. Bring him to my study.”

Rem felt a small pang of unease but bowed without hesitation.

“Yes, sir.”

Rem had never felt particularly nervous about seeing someone before, especially when it was simply to deliver a summons. Yet, as she knocked on Subaru’s door, a strange swirling sensation twisted in her gut.

Pushing the door open, she immediately felt heat rise to her cheeks. Subaru was in the middle of sliding a fresh dress shirt on, his bare shoulders still visible as he pulled the fabric over his arms.

“S-Subaru, Master Roswaal has summoned you to his study,” she blurted out, her voice slightly more hurried than intended as she tried to regain her composure.

Why was she feeling like this? Just days ago, she had despised the very idea of him, convinced he was the worst sort of person. But now that she had realized he wasn’t the scum she had assumed him to be…

“Oh, thanks. I’ll be right up,” Subaru said, turning to look at her.

For some reason, that simple glance sent her pulse into an uneven rhythm. Feeling like a child caught stealing sweets, she quickly bowed, turned on her heels, and left without another word.

The rest of the week, Rem avoided Subaru like being near him might give her mana sickness. For all she knew, it might—considering how seeing him was making her feel.

Ram had taken notice of her odd behavior, casually inquiring if Subaru had said or done something to her. Rem flatly denied it, brushing off the very idea as foolish and silly. Whether or not her sister believed her, she couldn’t say. Still, she found herself watching Subaru more than she cared to admit.

Most of the time, she caught glimpses of him in the gardens, a book in one hand and that pulsing purple gem in the other. Lord Roswaal had shifted his duties away from housework and toward his studies, a change that seemed to suit him well enough.

Yet, despite her best efforts to stay away, her eyes had a habit of wandering in his direction. It was getting harder and harder not to steal glances at him, and one evening before dinner—

“Ahhh, young Rem, it seeeems you’ve taken quite the interest in our newest member of the household,” her master’s voice rang from behind.

Rem nearly jumped out of her skin. Spinning around, she quickly bowed to Roswaal, struggling to keep her expression neutral. “Apologies, Master Roswaal,” she said as calmly as she could. “I should be focusing on my work.”

“Nothing wroooong with a little people-watching,” Roswaal chuckled, his ever-present smirk in place. “After all, he iiiis quite an interesting one, don’t you agree?”

Rem remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

“Well then,” Roswaal continued, “I must ask you to take him his dinner this evening. I’ll be occupied with your sister tonight.”

That wasn’t unusual. Ram often spent late evenings conferring with their master. As her sister’s spare, Rem had long accepted it as routine, never questioning what these meetings were about.

Dinner was prepared with care, consisting of roasted appas, a fresh garden salad, steaming soup, garlic-infused meat, and a glass of red wine—hot tea in Lady Emilia’s case. Ram had personally taken a tray to their master, while Rem maneuvered a dolly carrying the remaining trays. She followed her usual routine, first delivering dinner to Emilia in her study, then to the giant Rom in his quarters… and finally.

Coming to a stop in front of Subaru’s study, she took a breath before pushing open the door. Stepping inside, she carried the silver tray with practiced precision. “I have your dinner,” she announced, keeping her tone as flat and professional as possible.

Subaru was lounging at his desk, feet kicked up, a book in hand, and the pulsing gem idly rolling between his fingers. The moment she entered, his feet dropped from the desk as if caught in some offense, his expression somewhere between sheepish and guilty. Rem considered scolding him for such improper posture, but she decided to leave that to her sister.

Crossing the room, she set the tray down with a light clink and gave a short bow, intending to leave as quickly as possible. However, Subaru cleared his throat.

“Can we talk?”

Rem stiffened. She had been dreading this moment. For a brief second, she considered sweeping out of the room as though she hadn’t heard him. But she planted her feet and turned to face him. “O-of course.”

Subaru studied her carefully before snapping his book shut and setting the gem aside. He stood, meeting her gaze, and for some reason, her heart pounded harder than she would have liked.

“Do you still have a problem with me?” he asked, his voice firm.

Rem blinked. “What? N-no! Nothing like that!” she responded hastily.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Well… yes…” Rem admitted, shifting her gaze to the floor. “I guess I’m just a bit embarrassed about how I acted toward you before.”

Subaru seemed taken aback by this. Then, to her complete bewilderment, he chuckled—before breaking into full-on laughter.

“H-hey! It’s not nice to laugh when someone says something like that, you know!” Rem huffed, heat creeping into her face.

“N-no, it’s not that,” Subaru said, trying to stifle his laughter. He took a breath, shaking his head with amusement. “It’s just… I expected something else.”

Rem’s brows furrowed, her embarrassment quickly giving way to irritation. “What do you mean exactly?!” she asked, her tone sharpening.

“It’s just… you’d been avoiding me, and I saw you glaring at me like before, so I assumed you were still acting the same way,” Subaru wiped away a stray tear from his fit of laughter. “Honestly, this is a relief for me.”

“Y-you saw me looking at you?” Rem felt a rush of heat rise to her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and foolishness washing over her.

“You’re not that subtle, you know,” Subaru chuckled, shaking his head.

Rem wanted to disappear. The thought that he had noticed her watching him—and worse, misinterpreted it—made her stomach twist. For a moment, she considered fleeing the room entirely. “I guess… I’m the one who ought to be sorry for misjudging you now.”

“N-no, think nothing of it!” Rem said quickly, too flustered to think straight.

Subaru smiled, rubbing the back of his neck as an awkward silence settled between them. “Well… now that we’ve cleared the air…”

“Y-yeah…” Rem rocked on her heels, searching for something to say before settling on the question that had been gnawing at her. “Why did you come looking for me? In the forest, I mean.”

“What? Was I supposed to just leave you?” Subaru arched an eyebrow.

“I mean… I said I thought you were a cultist,” Rem admitted, her voice quieter now. “There aren’t many worse things you can accuse a person of being.” The weight of her own words settled in her chest like a stone. For weeks, she had treated him with suspicion and disdain, and yet, when she had been in danger, he hadn’t hesitated to save her.

“Well, that’s true,” Subaru said with a thoughtful hum. “But I’ve seen how hard you work, and despite it all, you were willing to put that aside to help me save the children.”

“I wasn’t willing to save that Meili girl,” Rem murmured, shame creeping into her voice.

“I never said you were perfect,” Subaru admitted. “And you were being pragmatic—I’m just an optimist.”

Rem studied him carefully. “You’re being too kind now. I’m not worth it.”

“What do you mean exactly?”

Rem opened her mouth but hesitated, her heart tightening. She didn’t know why she felt so open with Subaru, why she wanted to let him see this vulnerable side of her—but for once, she didn’t stop herself. “I am just my sister’s spare. The one who stole her other horn… The world would be better off if I was never born. You would have been better off too… I misjudged you. Maybe even hated you.”

Subaru’s expression shifted—shock flickering across his face, but not pity.

“An Oni is usually born with two horns,” she continued, her voice wavering. “But twins… twins only get one each. We’re seen as abominations, and most are not allowed to live after birth.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “The only reason I was allowed to live was because of Ram—because she was special.” Her breath hitched. “All my life, she was the strongest, the gifted one, and I was just… a spare.”

The words poured out of her like a waterfall breaking free from a dam, years of emotions, guilt, and burdens she had carried alone spilling forth to a relative stranger.

“Ram is the gifted one. When the cultists came and slaughtered our village, her horn was cut…” Rem felt her chest tighten, the weight of her confession pressing down on her. “I-I-I… I was happy… For once, I was better. For once, I was happy.” Her breath hitched as shame twisted in her gut. “Then I realized how terrible that was. Everything I do… all my work… it’s to atone for that.”

Tears burned hot trails down her cheeks as the admission clawed its way out of her. “So when you came, I smelled her on you. I assumed you were just like the ones who hurt my sister, so I-I… I mistrusted you… I hated you.”

Her voice broke, and for the first time in years, she allowed herself to weep openly. “So… it’s only natural if you hate me too,” she whispered, her vision blurred by tears.

A long silence stretched between them. Rem braced herself, waiting for the scolding, the disgust, the condemnation she had convinced herself she deserved. He would tell her she was horrible, that she was just a spare. And that was fine. That was what she had always been.

“I don’t hate you, Rem.”

Rem’s breath hitched. She looked up at him, her tear-streaked face searching his for deception, for cruelty, for anything that would make sense. But all she found was kindness.

“W-what?”

“I don’t hate you,” Subaru repeated, his voice steady.

She blinked, fresh tears spilling over. “Why? Why not?! I’m horrible! I might have killed you!”

“Probably,” Subaru admitted with a small, wry smile.

“ So why?! ” Rem pressed, her voice cracking.

“Honestly… I wanted to hate you,” Subaru admitted. His voice was steady, but there was weight behind it. “Part of me still doesn’t want to forgive you. It would be so easy to just give in to that.”

Rem’s heart clenched at his words, but he wasn’t done.

“I won’t lie—I was furious that you thought I was one of them. That you saw me as a monster. But… holding onto that anger would only be selfish.”

Rem lowered her head, guilt clawing at her insides. She wished he would just berate her, tell her she was awful, that she deserved his hatred. But Subaru wasn’t that kind of person.

“These past few days, I did some thinking,” Subaru continued, his expression turning solemn. “And I realized… I think I understand how you feel.”

Rem’s breath hitched.

“I have a family too. I would do anything for them. For Rom. For Felt. That’s why I wanted to be Roswaal’s apprentice—to give them a better life. To make sure they could smile.” Subaru clenched his fists. “And I know that if anything got in the way of that, I wouldn’t hesitate to protect them.”

Rem’s knees wobbled. The weight of his words pressed down on her, heavier than any burden she had ever carried. But Subaru wasn’t finished.

“And from what you’ve told me,” he said, softer now, “I also think you’re too hard on yourself.”

“No…” Rem’s voice was barely a whisper. “Not hard enough.”

Subaru frowned. “You’re a person, an individual —not some spare. That’s crap,” he said firmly.

The words struck her deeper than any blade ever could.

“I watched the two of you,” Subaru went on. “You’re hardworking, and Ram is… well, useless. ” He let out a teasing chuckle. “You’re great at cooking—Ram? She can barely do more than steam things. You can clean, you can tend the garden. Ram? She can’t fold a fitted sheet to save her life.”

A soft, watery laugh slipped through Rem’s lips before she could stop it.

Subaru’s expression softened. “Ram is cold. But you… you have warmth. You have joy when you choose to show it.” He met her gaze, unwavering. “The mistakes we made in the past don’t have to define us. We’re all imperfect, Rem. So don’t carry your sins to the grave.”

Rem swallowed hard. She felt… raw. Exposed.

“How… how can you say that?” She wiped at her tears, her voice thick with emotion. “We barely know each other.”

Subaru smirked. “Well… I do have eyes.” He crossed his arms. “And I suppose I’ll only know if my observations are correct if you let me.”

Rem searched his face, looking for even the faintest trace of insincerity. Instead, all she found was warmth. Kindness. Understanding.

A chuckle bubbled up through her tears. “You want to get to know a demon like me?”

“Why not?” Subaru grinned, extending his hand toward her. “I’m the son of a Giant, after all.”

Rem’s breath hitched as she stared at his offered hand. Her tears continued to fall, but they no longer carried the weight of despair.

This feeling… was different.

Lighter.

“You are a strange one, Subaru,” she murmured.

With only a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and took his hand.

Maybe… it’s okay to be a bit foolish.

Chapter 11: ARC 2 - Chapter 1: Family Meeting

ARC II

---

Chapter I:

Family Meeting

---

Felt hated lessons.

She came to this conclusion almost immediately. Being forced into studies was bad enough, but in her case, it was literal imprisonment.

Nearly a month had passed since she’d become Reinhard’s “guest,” and every second of it had been unbearable. First, there were the dresses—frilly, delicate things cinched so tight Felt was convinced the designers thought breathing was optional. Then came the heels, those Dragon-cursed contraptions that made walking a battle in itself.

It was enough to make her want to scream, kick, and punch someone—which she had, more than once. But that hag Carol had an infuriating countermeasure: her expert, merciless ear-pinching. Felt was certain that by now, her right earlobe had stretched twice as long as her left. Just the threat of another tug sent a shiver down her spine.

The only thing keeping her sane was the promise that she would soon see Subaru and Rom again. Once this ridiculous business at the palace— or whatever it was —was done, she’d return to her normal life with her family. Whatever the Sword Saint expected of her, he wasn’t getting it.

“Are you paying attention, Felt?” Carol’s sharp voice cut through her thoughts, making her sit up straighter.

“What? Yeah, sure,” Felt sighed, barely looking at the book in front of her. They’d been going over the names and family crests of the snobs who ruled Lugunica.

Grimm, standing beside her, let out a quiet sigh and leaned in so only she could hear. “My Lady, you must take this seriously,” he rasped.

Felt glanced at him, guilt creeping in. Grimm rarely spoke, choosing instead to communicate through notes. If he used his voice, it was to drive a point home. She suspected it was a calculated guilt trip, and damn it, it worked on her every time.

“Oh, alright,” she muttered, looking at the blue-and-gray pattern in the book. “That’s the Olsen family crest…”

“Very good,” Carol acknowledged with a curt nod.

Before they could continue, the door opened, and Flam and Grassis entered with a bow. “Tea is ready, Grandmother,” they announced in unison.

Felt barely held back a groan. Tea and biscuits sounded fine in theory, but for her, they meant enduring another agonizing hour of “proper etiquette.” No slouching, no loud chewing, no gulping, no improper stirring, and Dragon forbid she set the cup down with anything less than grace. It was exhausting.

“Very good. Lady Felt, attend me,” Carol commanded, snapping Nobility and Their Coat of Arms shut with finality.

Tea was as dull as ever. Flam and Grassis stood nearby, heads bowed, while Carol monitored her every move with the intensity of a hawk. Felt had never considered posture important for drinking a liquid, but Carol ranked it just above breathing.

“A little taller—don’t slouch now. That’s it,” Carol instructed, nodding in satisfaction as Felt adjusted.

“What’s the point of a backrest if I can’t use it?” Felt mumbled under her breath, taking the daintiest sip she could manage, all the while simmering inside.

“I have ears, you know,” Carol snapped, shooting her a look. “And tea with guests is a formal event. If you are to appear as a Lady, you must act like one. That includes not muttering under your breath.”

Felt bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to hurl the teacup across the room and make another run for it.

She had tried to escape—twice. But Carol, Grimm, and even Reinhard—that one time—had caught her.

Her escape attempts weren’t serious , per se. She would’ve come back… eventually . But the sheer frustration of it all made her want to test the limits.

And the worst part? She was learning .

The realization made her feel dirty . She was passing as a Lady, even if just barely. She’d never imagined herself as one of those stuck-up nobles from the Royal District, yet here she was, being turned into one by her so-called “hosts.”

The doors to the drawing room clicked open, and Reinhard swept inside with his usual effortless grace. Felt shot him her customary glare but begrudgingly returned her attention to her tea. She reached for a biscuit, making sure to take small, precise bites. The last time she’d taken too large a mouthful, Carol had made her practice eating biscuits properly until her stomach ached.

“Ah, there she is,” Reinhard greeted warmly.

“If it isn’t—” Felt started with a grumble before catching Carol’s sharp, warning glance. With great effort, she forced herself to sit up straighter and clear her throat. “I mean… welcome home. ”

Reinhard chuckled, clearly amused. “This Saturday is the big day. It seems you’ve made some good progress this week.”

“If by progress, you mean mastering the art of eating biscuits, apparently I’m still a work in progress,” Felt muttered, deliberately avoiding Carol’s disapproving stare.

“Well, that’s ultimately secondary,” Reinhard said easily. “You look the part, and for now, that’s all that matters.”

“Speaking of,” Felt set her food aside carefully, ensuring no crumbs fell astray—she had no desire to give Carol another excuse for a lecture. “Where are Subaru and Rom?”

“Lord Roswaal is expected to arrive in the capital tomorrow,” Reinhard answered smoothly. “Lady Emilia will be attending the Palace as well.”

Felt frowned. “Can’t I see them before this whole fiasco? If I had to bet, they’ll be banging down your door the second they get back.”

“Likely,” Reinhard admitted with a small smile. “But we have matters to prepare for, and Lady Emilia will have her obligations. That said, I see no issue in arranging a meeting beforehand. I’ll send a message to Lord Roswaal requesting a private audience before the Selection.”

A deliberate ahem cut through the conversation. Both Felt and Reinhard turned to find Carol fixing the young Sword Saint with an expectant stare.

“Young master, I must remind you of what we discussed earlier,” Carol intoned, her voice crisp with meaning.

Reinhard arched a brow. “We can speak further about that in private.”

Carol pursed her lips before shaking her head. “I must insist you inform her now. If I may overstep for a moment, I will. It would not do for her to learn the true nature of the Selection from her friends—who, doubtless, are already far better informed than she is at present.”

Felt leaned forward slightly, her interest finally piqued. For once, she found herself silently rooting for Carol. Ever since she had first heard about the Selection, curiosity had gnawed at her, but no amount of prying had revealed anything useful. Not even Flam or Grassis had slipped up, and she’d been certain at least one of them would crack if she pressed hard enough.

Reinhard let out a sigh in response to Carol’s insistence. “Maybe you’re right. I will need to delay their reunion until after the Selection.”

That was not what Felt had been hoping to hear. Without thinking, she shot up from her seat and hurled her teacup straight at Reinhard’s stupid, ever-composed face.

To her further irritation, the knight plucked the cup cleanly out of the air, not spilling so much as a drop of tea onto his pristine uniform. Felt clenched her fists—he could at least pretend to be human.

“Don’t you dare!” she snapped. “Otherwise, I’ll just—ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!” She yelped as Carol’s fingers latched onto her left ear and twisted with merciless precision.

“Ladies do not throw things when they are displeased,” Carol said primly, only releasing her grip once she was satisfied with Felt’s suffering.

Felt grumbled, rubbing her stinging ear. “Yeah, but he deserved it.”

“In this particular case, I must agree with the young lady’s frustration,” Carol sighed, ignoring Felt’s triumphant smirk. “The fact remains, young master, that I can teach her all you like, but this one —” she shot Felt a pointed glance—“will fly off the handle if not motivated properly.”

Felt huffed at the remark, though she couldn’t exactly argue. If Reinhard thought keeping her from Subaru and Rom was a good idea, she would absolutely make his precious Selection an absolute nightmare for him.

“Very well,” Reinhard finally relented, looking somewhat resigned. “I will defer to your wisdom. Sit, please.”

Felt eyed him warily but slowly lowered herself back into her seat, shooting a smug look at Carol when the old woman didn’t immediately scold her posture.

“Flam, dear,” Carol addressed the maid smoothly, “fetch the young master a fresh cup of tea. And do see that the young lady’s cup is repaired.”

“Yes, grandmother,” Flam said, bowing before quickly moving to carry out her orders.

Only once Reinhard was sipping a fresh cup and Felt had been properly readjusted into a more “ladylike” sitting position, did he finally fix her with a long, measured look.

“The Royal Selection,” Reinhard said calmly. “You are one of five candidates to become the next ruler of the kingdom.”

Felt stared at him. Blinked. Waited for the punchline. When none came, she blinked again.

“You’re joking.” Her voice was cold, flat. “You have to be joking.”

“No, I am quite serious.” Reinhard sipped his tea, completely unbothered. “Ah—very good brew. Thank you, Flam.”

“You are welcome, sir,” Flam said with a bow.

“Ignoring the tea for a moment —” Felt growled, though she reluctantly agreed it was good, “—could you maybe elaborate !?”

“This is why I didn’t think it was prudent to tell her now,” Reinhard sighed.

“I’ll show you prudent, you utter—” Felt caught herself just in time, painfully aware of Carol’s laser-focused presence. “You utter… utter meanie! ”

The Sword Saint let out a long, weary sigh. “I told you before—the insignia chose you. I firmly believe fate brought us together, and more than that, I truly believe you are destined to be the next ruler of this nation.”

And just like that, the last few weeks suddenly made way too much sense. The lessons, the etiquette drills, the endless corrections, the absurd dresses, the damn heels. All because Reinhard— this lunatic —had gotten it into his head that just because the insignia in her pocket had glowed a little, she was somehow meant to be queen.

It was absolute, utter, flaming garbage.

“Yeah?” Felt crossed her arms, eyes burning with defiance. “Well, I have no interest in this stupid kingdom— or being in charge of it.”

Reinhard opened his mouth, but she barreled on.

“In case any of you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a lady. And I sure as hell don’t want to spend the rest of my life surrounded by a bunch of stuck-up nobles who wouldn’t have given me a second glance a month ago!”

Reinhard sighed, shaking his head as if he had expected this reaction. “I had a feeling this would happen. But the issue isn’t how the nobility sees you. Though,” he added, “earning the favor of a few key figures would be beneficial.”

“I don’t need to earn shit ! I don’t—”

“ Language, young lady, ” Carol’s sharp tone cut through Felt’s frustration like a knife.

Felt clenched her jaw. She wanted nothing more than to tell Carol to shove it, but she was more afraid of the old hag than she was of Reinhard. Grinding her teeth, she muttered, “Yes, ma’am,” before snapping her gaze back to the knight. “But I meant what I said. I don’t care about these people. I’ve told you— the moment I can put this behind me, I will .”

A quiet, gruff sound of a throat clearing made Felt glance up. Grimm had entered the room without her noticing—a talent of his, no doubt. The old man handed Grassis a note, and the girl quickly scanned the parchment before looking up.

“Grandfather says: It would be best to speak of the reason why she should consider the Selection, and that a meeting with family might be beneficial to our cause, ” Grassis read aloud. Once finished, Grimm gave her head a soft pat, and the girl practically melted under the gesture.

“Well put, husband,” Carol murmured approvingly, her expression briefly softening in a way that surprised Felt.

Reinhard, however, looked unconvinced. “Very well. I’ll do my best to arrange a meeting here.” His tone made it clear he wasn’t entirely on board with the idea.

“Good,” Felt said, relieved at some victory. She set her teacup down and stretched. “Now, I want to go take a nap. My head hurts.”

Carol’s sharp eyes narrowed. “Phantom headaches again?” she asked suspiciously.

Felt stiffened.

“You have a schedule to keep,” Carol continued, already turning to Flam. “Flam, fetch the herbs. Our young lady seems to need medicine again.”

Felt paled. The last time it had been a fake stomachache, Flam had practically drowned her in a bucket of that vile, bitter green sludge.

“On second thought,” Felt blurted, her voice suddenly chipper, “we had geography lessons next, right?”

Carol smirked knowingly. “That’s what I thought.”

---

The evening of the next day, Felt paced the halls in a huff. Reinhard had given his word that he would arrange a meeting with Subaru and Rom, and she was more than ready to see them. In fact, the moment they arrived, she had a plan—she was going to force that red-haired thug of a knight to let them stay with her. There was no good reason for them to have been left behind while she was trapped in this glorified prison.

If Subaru had been around from the start, she probably would have escaped ages ago. He was always good at that sort of thing. More than once, she had managed to slip out of a tight spot because of him—though she’d never admit that out loud.

“My lady,” Flam’s voice called from behind her.

Felt spun on her heel. “Yeah, what is it?” she asked impatiently.

“The members of Lord Roswaal’s household have arrived,” Flam informed her with a little bow.

“They’re not part of any Lord’s household,” Felt muttered under her breath, but excitement bubbled in her chest regardless.

Without another word, she spun around and took off down the hall. She was nearly halfway to the grand staircase when a familiar ahem made her skid to a halt.

Grimm stood in her path, arms crossed, offering her a patient but pointed look. “Young lady,” he said in his usual strained, quiet voice, “please, do not run in such attire. It is… ungraceful.”

Felt huffed but stopped herself from arguing. She actually liked Grimm, and as much as she wanted to ignore all the stupid etiquette lessons, she had been hearing Carol’s nagging voice in her head whenever she slipped up. Begrudgingly, she slowed her pace and made her way properly onto the grand staircase.

From her vantage point, she immediately spotted four people gathered in the foyer below.

The first was the half-elf Lady Emilia—who was busy talking with Reinhard, her silvery hair catching the light as she moved. Beside her stood a blue-haired maid in uniform, her face unreadable. But more importantly, her eyes landed on the two people she actually cared about: Rom and Subaru.

Rom, as expected, was dressed in the same style of clothing he always wore—though, to her surprise, his outfit was new. New. Vibrant blues and reds replaced his usual tattered garb, courtesy of Roswaal, no doubt. Seeing him in anything clean was strange enough, let alone something that actually fit him.

But Subaru—he had undergone a complete transformation.

Gone were his work clothes and rough edges. He was dressed like a full-fledged noble—black trousers, a luxurious dress shirt, polished shoes, and even a fine belt with a sword at his hip. It was so bizarre that for a moment, Felt hardly recognized him.

Subaru was the first to look up and spot her. His expression twisted into pure shock.

“ Felt? ”

“Who else would I be?!” Felt snapped, already annoyed by his lack of certainty.

Then she saw it—the moment of realization hitting him like a bolt of lightning.

His eyes widened. “By the Dragon… you’re in a dress?! ”

Rom turned and glanced up at her too, his thick brows raising in surprise.

Felt blinked. Then she looked down at herself.

Shit.

In her frustration and anticipation, she had completely forgotten she was wearing one of those ridiculous noble dresses. She had gotten so used to the layers of frills and tight corsets over the last few weeks that they had become background noise—until now.

Mortified, she let out a sharp curse under her breath and immediately tried to hide behind the railing of the grand staircase.

“W-well, it wasn’t my idea!” she sputtered hastily, her face burning. “It’s not like I enjoy looking like this. Hey—quit grinning, dumbass!”

Sure enough, Subaru’s lips were twitching like he was dying to burst out laughing. His shoulders even shook a little, and Felt could practically hear the teasing remarks forming in his head.

She scowled. Oh, hell no.

Abandoning any shred of grace Carol had drilled into her, Felt stormed down the stairs, fully prepared to wipe that smirk off Subaru’s face.

“Listen here, you utter—”

“ Manners, ” a sharp, all-too-familiar voice rang out.

Felt froze mid-step.

Carol had entered the room, Grassis following closely behind, the old woman’s gaze razor-sharp.

Felt stiffened like a board, her previous fury instantly snuffed out.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Subaru lose it.

Her fists clenched as his barely contained laughter finally spilled out.

Oh, she was so going to kill him later.

“Felt, it’s good to see you again,” Emilia greeted warmly, her voice as gentle as ever.

“What? Oh, umm—” Felt’s brain scrambled for the right response, painfully aware of Carol watching her like a hawk. After a quick mental review of her dreaded etiquette lessons, she forced herself to straighten up. “It’s good to make your acquaintance again as well… Lady Emilia.”

Carol gave a slight nod of approval, while Subaru—red in the face from suppressing his laughter—looked way too amused for his own good. Rom, in contrast, simply studied her with a raised brow.

Felt clenched her jaw. He thinks this is funny?

Without missing a beat, she stepped closer to Subaru and, when Carol turned her attention elsewhere, drove the sharp heel of her shoe into his foot.

Subaru let out a strangled noise, barely holding in a cry of pain, his smirk instantly wiped off his face.

Satisfied, Felt shot him a smirk of her own. That’s just the beginning, big bro.

“I must say, I didn’t think dresses would be your thing,” Emilia said, clearly unaware of the silent sibling war going on, “but I do think yellow is your color.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Felt muttered, looking down at the frilly yellow fabric with disdain. The sooner I’m out of this, the better.

Subaru, who had recovered from both his laughter and his injury, turned his attention to Reinhard. “I take it since Felt is… well… dressed like a lady, that she’s not in any trouble?”

Felt scoffed. “Oh, I’m in trouble, alright. This—” She caught Carol’s sharp glare and quickly corrected herself. “ Knight has had me trapped here, learning to be some kind of lady !”

Rom arched an eyebrow. “You’re making her pretend to be a noble?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Reinhard replied smoothly. “Lady Emilia, if you and your servant would attend Miss Carol to the library for some refreshments, I believe there are a few matters I must discuss with Subaru and Rom.”

“Oh, of course!” Emilia said with a bright nod, moving to follow Carol without hesitation.

The blue-haired maid gave a silent bow before trailing after them, while Carol—ever the disciplinarian—shot Felt a look before departing.

“The drawing room,” Reinhard gestured for them to follow. “I believe Flam will be serving tea.”

Felt bit back her impatience as she trailed behind the group. Just one more day, she reminded herself. By tomorrow evening, this whole mess will be behind me. I just have to play nice for now.

Once inside the drawing room, the warm glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows against the walls, they settled in as Flam moved to pour their tea. Felt took a sip of her own, forcing herself to sit properly —though the fact she even thought about it made her feel gross.

She caught Subaru sitting all wrong—his posture slouched, legs stretched out carelessly. For a split second , she had the absurd urge to correct him.

Horrified at herself, she choked on her tea instead.

“So,” Subaru leaned forward, his usual casual demeanor returning, “did Roswaal cut some kind of deal to keep her out of trouble for… you know, borrowing Emilia’s insignia?”

“No,” Reinhard said simply, stirring his tea with practiced ease. “Felt was never in danger of any punishment for that.”

Subaru frowned slightly, something flickering across his face—too quick for Felt to place.

Reinhard set his cup down and turned his gaze to her. “I’ll allow her to explain.”

Felt had known this conversation was coming—it was just another hurdle on the path to getting this over with. She let out a sharp exhale and reached into her corset, pulling out the insignia. Holding it up, she flicked her gaze between Subaru and Rom, watching for their reactions.

“Get this,” she said flatly. “Apparently, this insignia glows when I hold it.” She shot Reinhard a glare before continuing. “And according to this guy ,” she jerked her thumb toward the red-haired knight, “that means I’m one of five candidates to rule this stupid country.”

Silence stretched between them. Felt had expected something —laughter, teasing, maybe even an incredulous snort. But what she got was worse.

Subaru and Rom weren’t laughing.

They were serious.

“You’re saying… you’re a royal candidate? Like Emilia?” Subaru said, his expression unreadable.

“Apparently,” Felt scoffed, crossing her arms. “I only learned this crap yesterday. ”

She caught the glance Subaru shot at Rom—subtle, but loaded with something she couldn’t quite place.

Her fingers curled around the insignia as a sinking feeling settled in her stomach.

“What?” Her sharp gaze flickered between them. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Spill it.”

Subaru let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his head like he was trying to find the right words. “Well… this makes things… complicated.”

“How so?” Felt narrowed her eyes, setting her tea aside a little too forcefully. Carol would have definitely disapproved.

Subaru looked away, his jaw tightening, frustration creeping onto his face.

Rom, as usual, was the one to cut straight to the point. “Subaru entered into the service of Lord Roswaal as an apprentice mage.”

Felt blinked, stunned into silence for the first time that evening.

“He… what?” she finally blurted. “An apprentice mage ? To a noble ?!”

Reinhard, who had been silent until now, hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his chin. “Lord Roswaal agreed to take you on as an apprentice? That is intriguing.”

Felt barely heard him. She was too busy staring at Subaru like he’d grown an extra head.

“What the hell do you want to learn magic for?” she demanded before a realization hit her. “Wait— isn’t that guy, like… the court magic dude or something?”

She vaguely remembered Grimm drilling her on the noble hierarchy a few weeks back. She’d tuned out most of it, but something about Roswaal being the mage of the kingdom had stuck.

“Court Mage, and yes,” Subaru confirmed, his tone firm. “Roswaal agreed to take me as his apprentice as a way of thanking me for helping to save Emilia from Elsa. I also made him promise to use his influence to ensure you didn’t end up in any legal trouble.”

Felt’s gaze snapped to Reinhard, sharp as a blade. “You mean you never explained this shit to them?!”

“It was not my primary concern,” Reinhard replied coolly. “When Lord Roswaal inquired, I informed him that you were in no real danger. However, I did withhold information regarding the Royal Selection.”

Subaru’s jaw tightened, his expression dark for a moment before he spoke again. “I was the one who asked for the role. I saw it as a way to build a better life for the three of us. Magic, especially the kind I’m learning, could be… useful. ”

Felt scoffed, crossing her arms. “Yeah, sure, but now you’re in debt to some noble. One who’s backing that silver-haired half-elf, no less!”

Subaru exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “It’s not all bad. Emilia’s a good person too. And yeah, learning magic isn’t exactly a walk in the park, but at least you’re not the only one suffering through tough lessons.”

“You don’t get to make light of this whole situation, Subaru!” Felt snapped, her frustration boiling over.

“Calm down, Felt,” Rom rumbled, placing a large, steady hand on her back. “Subaru was doing what he thought was best.”

Felt clenched her fists at her sides. She knew that—of course, she did. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. More than anything, she blamed him. That red-haired idiot sitting across from her, still sipping his damn tea like none of this was his fault.

“Well, none of it matters, because by tomorrow, I won’t be a royal candidate anymore,” she huffed, pushing her chair back aggressively. “I never wanted this, and I sure as hell don’t plan to stick around for it.”

Reinhard parted his lips to speak, but Subaru beat him to it.

“That’s childish.”

Felt froze.

“…What did you just say?”

“It’s childish, ” Subaru repeated, his tone even, unwavering. “You’re being given the chance to change the system, and you’re just gonna throw that away? What else would you call it?”

“I didn’t ask for this! ” she shot back.

“No,” Subaru agreed. “But it’s still real. ”

Felt’s nails dug into her palms. “What about that Emilia girl? You seem to like her enough,” she sneered, ignoring the sting of jealousy in her chest. “Why not just push for her to be queen?”

“Emilia would make a great queen,” Subaru admitted, much to her irritation. “But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t too. I don’t know much about the other three candidates, but what I do know is that the odds of getting someone good on the throne are a hell of a lot better if you stay in the running.”

“I agree with Subaru,” Rom said, his arms folding across his chest. “I don’t like this mess any more than you do, but he’s got a point.”

Felt grit her teeth. It was bad enough when Carol, Grimm, and Reinhard tried to force this crap on her. But now her own family was against her too?

“What in the fuck ,” she growled, savoring the word just to spite Carol’s nagging voice in her head, “makes any of you think I could run a country ?! A month ago , I was living in a shack you built, Rom. No amount of stupid noble lessons is gonna turn me into some prissy princess who knows how to rule a kingdom!” Her voice cracked as her frustration boiled over. “I’m a thief, not some bitchy noble who pushes people around!”

“If I thought you were the type to push people around, I wouldn’t be standing here supporting you,” Subaru exhaled sharply, his frustration evident. “You have the chance to make life better for so many people—people like us, people who don’t have a voice.”

“ Like us? ” Felt snapped, eyes flashing with anger. “ Look at you! You’re dressed like one of them now!”

“And you’re not?! ” Subaru shot back, rising abruptly from his seat. His sudden outburst made Felt flinch, and that only made her angrier.

Before things could escalate further, Reinhard reached out and placed a firm hand on Subaru’s shoulder. Subaru jerked away from the contact but let out a slow breath before reluctantly sinking back into his chair.

Felt’s fists clenched at her sides. “Unlike you,” she spat, “I didn’t ask for this.”

The air in the room was thick with tension. Subaru looked like he wanted to say more, but before he could, Felt pushed herself to her feet, the legs of her chair scraping sharply against the polished floor.

“Reinhard,” she said, her voice tight, “I will be retiring for the evening.” She turned to Rom without meeting his gaze. “Old Man, you can stay if you want. But Subaru?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m sure your master is expecting you.”

She didn’t wait for a reply.

Turning on her heel, Felt strode out of the room, ignoring the heat rising in her chest. The moment she was out of sight, she felt it—hot, stinging tears slipping down her cheeks.

Damn it.

She hated crying.

---

Falm had apparently decided not to inform Carol about Felt’s outburst during her reunion with Subaru and Rom—for which she was immensely grateful. The last thing she needed was another lecture, especially when she wasn’t sure she could handle one without completely falling apart.

The moment she was alone in her chambers, she had locked the door, slumped onto the bed, and let everything unravel. She had been so angry that she ripped off the suffocating dress, tearing at the fabric before tossing it into the far corner of the room like it carried the weight of everything she despised. Then came the tears—hot, stinging, frustrating tears—muffled into her pillow alongside a few silent screams.

By the time a soft knock came at her door, exhaustion had settled over her, weighing her down like a lead blanket.

She didn’t answer, hoping whoever it was would take the hint and go away.

The door, however, creaked open anyway, and in stepped Flam and Grassis, both bowing slightly before speaking.

“My lady, I know you are in distress, but we must insist you put something on before we allow our guest in,” Flam said, her voice as calm as ever.

Felt groaned into her pillow before lifting her head just enough to glare at them. “Guest?” she asked, her voice scratchy from crying.

“The giant known as Rom is just outside,” Grassis clarified.

For a moment, Felt considered pointing out that Rom had raised her. He’d seen her covered in mud, dirt, blood, and worse over the years—hell, he was probably the least concerned person when it came to whether or not she was properly dressed. But she didn’t have the energy to argue.

“No frills,” she muttered instead, rubbing at her sore, puffy eyes.

They nodded in unison before selecting a simple dress—a plain blue one that only came down to her knees. It was casual enough, which was the best she could hope for in Reinhard’s home.

Once she had changed, the twins bowed, scooped up the tattered remnants of her ruined gown, and quietly left. A moment later, the door creaked again as Rom stepped in, ducking through the doorway to accommodate his large frame.

Felt sat up, hugging her knees to her chest as she eyed him warily.

“You okay, kid?” Rom asked, giving her a long, searching look.

“I’m fine,” she lied automatically.

“Sure,” Rom said, his tone making it clear he didn’t believe her for a second. He glanced around the room, hands on his hips. “Not bad. Got a good view of the palace from here.”

Felt scoffed. “Yeah, great. Just what I always wanted,” she muttered.

Rom ignored the sarcasm and instead took a seat on the cushioned chair near her bed. His movements were slow, and measured. Like he was giving her space.

“What do you want, Gramps?” she asked, her voice worn and tired. She wasn’t angry anymore—just drained.

Rom didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let out a long sigh before meeting her gaze.

“Are you trying to run off Subaru?” he finally asked.

Felt blinked. “What?”

“You’re mad at him,” Rom said, watching her closely. “But you might’ve overdone it.”

Felt clenched her jaw. She wanted to snap back, to tell Rom he didn’t understand. But she didn’t have the fire left in her.

“Well… he’s on their side, isn’t he?” she muttered, pulling her knees tighter to her chest. “Besides, you both want me to do this thing —so let him have his little noble life. He doesn’t need me, so I don’t need him.”

Rom was quiet for a long moment, then let out another deep sigh. “You know that ain’t true, kid.”

Felt swallowed, looking away.

She knew he was right.

But for the first time in her life, she felt alone. Subaru had always been hers —her big brother, her partner-in-crime, the one who always had her back. Now, he was Roswaal’s apprentice. Now, he was fighting for Emilia’s cause.

And the worst part?

She hated how much that hurt.

“Sure, I guess,” Felt muttered, turning her gaze away. “Still don’t wanna do this thing.”

Rom exhaled through his nose, studying her. “No one can make you,” he said evenly, “but Subaru wasn’t wrong, and you know it.” His eyes sharpened as he leaned forward slightly. “You’re not acting like yourself, kid. The Felt I know would be raising hell right now. Gonna have to make a decision for yourself.”

Felt didn’t answer right away. She just sat there, staring out the window. The streetlamps outside flickered to life, casting warm pools of light along the cobbled roads beyond the Astrea manor walls. Ornate carriages rolled by—luxurious, polished, completely detached from the kind of life she had always known.

It made her stomach twist.

After a long moment, she spoke.

“I want…” she hesitated, trying to find the right words. Her voice was quieter now, almost thoughtful. “I want to burn it all down. Every injustice these people have.”

Rom let out a low chuckle. “Burn it all down? Little radical, don’t you think, kid?”

“Not literally,” she shook her head, scowling. “I mean… the system , ya know? Tear down the damn walls that keep people separate. Make it so kids don’t have to fight over scraps just to make it to the next day.” Her hands clenched into fists against her lap. “Like Subaru and I would’ve had to… if it weren’t for you.”

Rom was quiet for a moment, then gave a slow, knowing nod.

Felt exhaled sharply, pushing herself up straighter. “I want everyone to be able to really live strong. Not just dream about it—not just hope for it—but to actually have a real chance.” She shook her head. “But… I can’t do that alone. I need strong people at my side. I won’t do it alone.”

Her crimson eyes met Rom’s, burning with conviction. “So if you expect me to go through this by myself, forget it.”

Rom’s gaze softened, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You won’t be alone, kid. I promise—I’ll be right by your side.”

For the first time that night, Felt let herself smile—small, but real.

And for the first time since this whole mess began… she felt just a little less lost.

“Don’t think I’m going anywhere either, you dummy.”

Felt’s head snapped up toward the doorway. Standing there, arms crossed and smirking, was Subaru.

“B-big bro—” her voice caught as heat rushed to her face, a mix of shame and surprise. “I-I thought you’d have left.”

“What? You really think some dumb little outburst would make me run off?” Subaru scoffed, shaking his head. “Come on, Felt, I’ve heard worse from you just because I forgot to buy you an Appa at the market.”

Felt scowled, but the lump forming in her throat made it impossible to throw out a snarky reply. She wanted to punch him in the arm, to yell at him for being so damn smug.

Instead, she was on her feet before she could think twice about it, closing the distance between them in an instant.

“You’re the dummy!” she huffed, burying herself against him.

Subaru chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

For the first time in weeks, Felt let herself relax, just for a moment. And in that moment, she felt like she was home.

“What about… well, don’t you work for that Roswaal guy now?” Felt asked as she reluctantly stepped back, searching Subaru’s face.

“Yeah,” Subaru shrugged, unconcerned. “But being a mage’s apprentice is overrated anyway.” He chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I told Emilia I’d be staying here for the night. Tomorrow, before all the Palace business, I’ll let Roswaal know I found something better.”

Felt raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Who said I was gonna hire you?”

“Oh? You gonna make me beg?” Subaru tilted his head, playing along.

“Might be a good start.” She crossed her arms, her grin widening. “If I’m gonna be queen, I need to learn how to put stuffy noble types like yourself in their place.”

Subaru groaned, shaking his head. “You’re the worst.” Then his expression softened. “So… you’re really going for it?”

Felt glanced toward the window, watching the flickering lanterns of the city below. “…Yeah,” she admitted. “I think I will.” Turning back, she met his gaze. “So, together?”

Subaru grinned before glancing over at Rom. “Together, right, old man?”

The giant frowned, arms crossed. “Depends.”

“Depends?” Felt and Subaru echoed in unison.

“I’m in—that’s not up for debate,” Rom clarified, his deep voice firm. “But that contract of yours, Subaru… Will Roswaal really let you go so easily? Especially to a competitor?”

Subaru’s smile faltered slightly as he considered the question. “Well… only one way to find out, right?”

Felt studied him carefully, a new thought creeping into her mind.

Just what kind of man had her big bro gotten himself mixed up with?

Chapter 12: ARC 2 - Chapter 2: Unclear Terms

ARC II

---

Chapter II:

Unclear Terms

---

It was a crisp, clear morning when Subaru finally stirred from sleep. He hadn’t gotten much of it, though—his mind had been restless, replaying the events of the previous day over and over.

When Roswaal had first informed him and Rom that Reinhard had invited them to the Astrea estate to see Felt, he had been more excited than he could remember in ages. Emilia had eagerly agreed to join them, and, unsurprisingly, Rem had decided to tag along as well. Ever since the forest incident, she’d been finding any excuse to linger around him.

But none of that had prepared him for what he saw when they arrived.

Felt. In a frilly yellow dress.

For the first time, Subaru thought she looked like a girl—a pretty one at that. However, that thought was immediately replaced by sheer hilarity. Felt, of all people, dressed up like a noble lady? The sight had been too much. His reaction had earned him a sharp heel to the foot, but honestly? Worth it.

And then, of course, there was tea.

Finding out Felt was one of the five candidates for the Royal Selection had blindsided him. Never, not in a million years, would he have thought she’d be up for the throne. But, then again, strange things had become a pattern in his life lately.

Her outright refusal to participate had really thrown him, though.

He could understand not wanting that kind of responsibility. Hell, he wouldn’t wish the burden of ruling a kingdom on anyone, let alone someone like Felt, who had spent her life surviving on the streets. But the way she dismissed it—like a petulant child refusing to eat her vegetables—had outright offended him.

The argument that followed had been inevitable. She had been hurt, and that had stung more than he expected. But, in the end, patching things up hadn’t been hard.

Because the only way he could have truly screwed things up?

Was as if he had taken her anger seriously and sulked off to Roswaal like a wounded dog.

And if he’d done that… well, he wouldn’t have blamed her for hating him.

As for that morning, it wasn’t the sunlight or the sound of birds that kept Subaru awake—it was the looming confrontation ahead.

Facing Roswaal.

Hoping he’d agree to release him from his apprenticeship.

Rom had voiced concerns that the Mage might have the power to force Subaru to uphold their contract, and honestly, Subaru didn’t want to think about that possibility. He couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—be stuck on the opposite side of his own family. He liked Emilia, respected her even, and had nothing against Roswaal’s household, but they were friends.

Not family.

That distinction was everything.

As he dressed, he told himself over and over that things would work themselves out. He kept repeating it like a mantra, clinging to the hope that sheer willpower alone would be enough to make it true.

By the time he made his way to the dining hall, Felt was already seated across from a stern older woman who was watching her like a hawk. Subaru hesitated for a second, noting the way Felt carried herself—stiff, composed. It was unnatural coming from her.

“Good morning,” he greeted, slipping into the seat beside her.

Felt turned her head, and for the first time in his life, Subaru heard her respond in a perfectly measured, formal tone:

“Good morning, Subaru.”

His eyebrows shot up. He glanced between Felt and the older woman, sensing something was very off. “Am I missing something?”

Felt, looking like she was swallowing nails, exhaled sharply. “Where are my manners,” she said through gritted teeth. Then, with visible effort, she gestured to the woman beside her. “Subaru, this is Carol. My… teacher.”

“Teacher?” Subaru nearly choked. His lips twitched, but he bit down on a laugh. “So you’re the one teaching Felt how to be a lady?”

“Indeed,” Carol said, her tone clipped and businesslike. “And if my understanding is correct, I may soon be teaching you how to be a gentleman as well, sir.”

Subaru immediately sobered. “...What now?”

Carol didn’t wait for a response. “Flam, be a dear and get our guest something to eat. Tea or coffee?”

Still reeling, Subaru cleared his throat. “Uh, just coffee. Not really hungry.”

“If you are sitting at the dining table, you will eat something ,” Carol stated flatly. There was no room for argument. “Flam, prepare a plate with eggs, bacon, and half a square of toast.”

Subaru opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, Felt’s foot found his under the table. The message was clear: don’t push it.

“Uh… thanks,” he muttered, resigned.

It suddenly occurred to him that Rom had likely chosen to have his breakfast in his room. Smart old man.

“So, Subaru,” Felt said, her voice still measured as she sipped her tea. “When are you heading out?”

“Not long from now,” Subaru answered, rubbing his neck. “Gonna stop by the Artisan District first before heading to Roswaal’s place.” He glanced at Flam—or Grassis? Honestly, it was easier to tell twins apart when they had different-colored hair like Rem and Ram.

“Going to see Conrad?” Felt asked.

“Yeah,” Subaru sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I kinda vanished on the old man. Hopefully, I didn’t leave him too shorthanded.” The thought of all the work orders that had likely been delayed made his stomach churn.

“Well, that’s the right thing to do,” Felt nodded approvingly. “Don’t feel too bad, though. I’m sure he replaced you in no time.”

“Hey! I’m not that easy to replace,” Subaru huffed.

“Of course not, big bro,” Felt teased with a cheeky grin.

Carol sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The term ‘big bro’ is not very formal. We are still practicing, young lady.”

Felt slumped back against her chair, rolling her eyes. “Ugh.”

“I suppose I can allow casual dining for the remainder of your meal,” Carol relented, standing. “At any rate, I must see to the alterations on your dress for this evening.”

Felt visibly tensed. “My dress ?” she repeated in horror.

“It is a statement piece,” Carol said pointedly. “You must understand—it is for your benefit.”

Felt scowled. “Do I have to wear that thing?”

“It is non-negotiable.”

With that, Carol gave a polite bow before sweeping out of the room. A moment later, one of the twins returned with Subaru’s meal.

Despite what he’d said earlier, now that the food was in front of him, Subaru realized he was fairly hungry.

“She’s gone,” Felt exhaled, melting into her chair like she had just been freed from a death sentence. “I swear, the second I can, I’m putting a stop to these ‘lessons.’ I can’t stand this crap.”

“If it helps get a few noble types to like you, it might be worth it,” Subaru pointed out, casually biting into his bacon before washing it down with a sip of coffee. “You said it yourself—you can’t go it alone. And Rom and I aren’t exactly heavy hitters, y’know?”

“Sure, sure,” Felt grumbled. “But it’s just not me .”

“You’re gonna have to be a lot of different things for different people, Felt,” Subaru said simply. “Being yourself is for closed doors. As bad as that sounds.” He glanced up at her. “Just don’t betray your morals. Proper posture isn’t gonna change who you are.”

Felt eyed him, looking torn. “See, this is why someone like you should be doing all this crap, not me.”

“The shiny rock didn’t pick me,” Subaru shrugged, ruffling her hair to her loud grumbling of protest.

He pushed his empty plate forward and stood, fixing his sword to his belt. “I gotta get going. Try not to strangle anyone while I’m gone, alright?”

Felt scoffed. “No promises.”

He turned to the twin beside him. “Grassis—”

“Flam,” the girl corrected, raising an eyebrow.

“Right, sorry,” Subaru winced. “What time’s Felt leaving for the palace?”

“Four in the afternoon, sir,” Flam answered smoothly.

“Good. I’ll be back by three.” Subaru nodded.

With that, he ruffled Felt’s hair one last time for good measure—dodging her retaliatory slap with a laugh—and made his way out of the Astrea manor after clasping his sword to his belt.

---

“You’re alive?” Conrad eyed Subaru up and down, wiping the sweat from his brow.

It was early Saturday morning, but the old man was already at the forge, his apron darkened with soot and his skin glistening with sweat. Behind him, a younger man was hammering away at a billet of steel, his strikes uneven, his form sloppy. He looked strong enough, but his lack of rhythm and finesse made it clear—either he was new, or Conrad had been desperate for extra hands. If the latter was the case, Subaru couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Yeah, I’m alive,” Subaru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Came close to dying a few times after I ran off, but, you know… still standing.”

Conrad sighed, shaking his head before turning back toward the forge. Just then, the sharp clang of metal rang out—a mis-hit against the anvil instead of the billet. The older man let out a gruff groan.

“Dragon above, find a rhythm, boy!” he barked at his apprentice before turning back to Subaru with a wry smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re here to beg for your job back after disappearing off the face of the world for a month.”

Subaru grinned. “Nah, still employed. Currently in the service of Roswaal L. Mathers… at least for now.”

Conrad paused mid-motion, turning to look at him more closely. “Mathers? The Court Mage?” He frowned, running a hand through his beard. “What in blazes are you doing working for a noble out near Arlam?”

“Long story,” Subaru sighed, watching as Conrad picked up a sword and began running it over a wet stone. “I sort of… stumbled into it after that night. A lot happened, and I can’t go into the details.”

Conrad grunted but didn’t press.

“I just got back to the capital yesterday,” Subaru continued. “Figured I owed you an apology for vanishing like that. I know you took me in when I had nowhere else to go, and I just up and left without a word. That wasn’t right.”

The forge master studied him for a long moment, then let out a deep chuckle. “Don’t apologize to me for improving your lot in life, boy. I ain’t the type to hold a youth like yourself back for my own selfish reasons.” He set the sword down and crossed his arms. “But tell me—what happened to that sister of yours? You said she was in trouble that day. When a week passed with no sign of either of you, I figured the worst had happened.”

Subaru exhaled slowly. “She’s safe,” he confirmed, meeting the old man’s gaze. “And, regardless of what you think, I will make things up to you.”

Conrad scoffed, clapping a heavy hand on Subaru’s shoulder. “Nothing to make up, son.” Then, with a smirk, he motioned toward the rows of weapons and tools lining the shop. “Now, unless you’re here to buy something, let me get back to work.”

Subaru smirked back, shaking the man’s hand firmly before heading off.

The walk back to the Noble District felt strange. Subaru wasn’t used to heading there from the Artisan District, and more than once, he almost instinctively turned toward the slums out of habit. The familiarity of that old path tugged at him, a stark contrast to the weight settling in his stomach—like one of Conrad’s anvils.

Still, he pressed on.

When he arrived at the three-story building Roswaal used as his residence in the capital, Subaru hesitated for only a moment before knocking. The door flung open almost instantly.

“Oh! There you are, Subaru!” Rem greeted him with a warm smile. “Have you had breakfast yet? I could make you something if you’d like.”

“N-No, thanks, though,” Subaru managed, forcing a small smile.

He was glad for Rem’s change in attitude toward him, but lately, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his original suspicion had been right—she had developed a crush on him. It was a hard thought to reconcile with the memory of her brutally murdering Rom and himself in another loop. He tried not to hold those feelings against her, but the memory still lingered at the back of his mind like a shadow he couldn’t quite shake.

“Is Roswaal here?” Subaru asked, pushing the thought away.

“He’s in his office with Lady Emilia and my sister at the moment,” Rem confirmed with a nod.

Subaru climbed the stairs to the third floor, pausing just outside the mage’s office. His hand hovered over the door for a second before it swung open, and Emilia stepped out. She smiled when she saw him.

“Oh, Subaru! You’re back,” she said, walking over. “I hope your meeting with Felt went well. I still don’t understand why she’s staying with Reinhard. He just told me I’d ‘understand later,’ whatever that means.”

Subaru smiled but said nothing. It seemed Reinhard was still keeping the details of Felt’s situation under wraps—for now. That would change by the end of the evening, but it wasn’t his place to spill the truth.

“Yeah, the meeting went… well, a little tense, but nothing major. I’m just glad she’s safe,” he offered. It felt wrong not being fully transparent with Emilia, but it couldn’t be helped. “Anyway, is Roswaal free?”

“Yeah, we just finished discussing a few things about the Royal Selection,” she said.

“Nervous?”

“A little,” Emilia admitted with a small chuckle, rubbing her elbow. “But I’ll have Puck with me, so it’ll work itself out!”

Subaru smiled at her optimism, then took a deep breath. “Let’s chat later. I need to take care of a few things with Roswaal first, okay?”

Emilia nodded. “Sure. I think I’ll finally grab some lunch. I was too antsy to eat this morning, but I’m feeling better now. Take care, Subaru!”

He waved as she headed downstairs, then steeled himself before knocking on the office door and stepping inside.

The room was more subdued than he had expected. Dark green wallpaper covered the walls, the desk was plain but elegant, and a small bookcase behind Roswaal contained tomes on Lugunican law and political regulations.

Ram was just finishing tidying up a tea set when he entered.

“Ram, it would please me if you assisted your sister for the time being,” Roswaal said smoothly.

The pink-haired maid gave a polite bow before sweeping out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

Now, it was just Subaru and Roswaal.

“I have a request,” Subaru said after a long moment, his voice steady despite the tension knotting in his chest.

“A request? Oh, do tell,” Roswaal leaned forward, a knowing smile curling his lips. He looked amused—too amused—and it made Subaru’s stomach churn with unease.

Taking a deep breath, Subaru met the mage’s gaze. “I want to be released from my position as your apprentice.”

Roswaal’s smirk didn’t waver, but something in his expression shifted. “Really now?” he mused, tapping his fingers against the desk. “How interesting. What would compel someone like yourself to make such a request? It is, after all, a rather prestigious position you hold. And so suddenly, too—you had been working quite hard. Did something happen during your meeting with Lady Felt?”

Subaru’s mouth opened to respond, but he stopped short. “ Lady Felt?”

Roswaal’s smirk widened.

“You knew,” Subaru realized, his jaw going slack. “You knew she was a Royal Candidate?”

“My dear boy, I am the Court Mage ,” Roswaal chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I was informed that Reinhard had found the final candidate for the Selection and that he had taken your sister in as a guest. It was hardly a difficult deduction. Who else could it have been?”

Subaru clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. 

“How long have you known?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

“Since just after the incident in the forest,” Roswaal admitted smoothly. “I considered telling you, buuuuut…” He waved a lazy hand in the air. “It would have only caused unnecessary strife in my household. Emilia already had sooo much on her mind. Informing you would have been a pointless gesture.”

Subaru ground his teeth. He knew. This whole time, Roswaal had known about Felt—about everything—and had simply chosen to keep it from him.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Subaru said, though a deep sense of annoyance gnawed at him. He couldn’t exactly blame Roswaal—the man was looking after his own interests, as well as Emilia’s. But that very fact made Subaru uneasy about how this conversation would end.

“So,” Subaru continued, watching Roswaal carefully. “Where does that leave us?”

Roswaal’s smirk remained firmly in place. “I could let you go,” he mused, tapping a single finger against his temple. “However, magical contracts are not so easily broken. I could also force you to remain in my service.”

Subaru’s jaw tightened. “Will you?”

Roswaal waved a hand dismissively. “I think you should attend the Royal Selection,” he said instead, dodging the question. “I have a few small favors I’d like my apprentice to fulfill before I allow him to officially leave my service.”

Subaru’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re about to ask me to do anything against Felt—”

“Noooothing of the sort!” Roswaal assured him with a chuckle, raising his hands as if to show innocence. “It would be most beneficial to Lady Emilia if she were on good terms with a few of the other candidates. To cause such strife so early… whhhhat possible benefit would that have?”

Subaru wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know if I can trust that unless you tell me exactly what you’re asking.”

Roswaal’s expression remained unreadable. “Oh, but that would beeee telling, Subaru.” He winked playfully. “Suffice to say, my favor will not affect Lady Felt’s candidacy. I promise you that.”

Subaru frowned. “So, how long are you planning to keep me, exactly?”

“That, dear Subaru…” Roswaal chuckled, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming with amusement. “Depends entirely on you.”

“That’s not an answer,” Subaru shot back.

“Isn’t it?” Roswaal shrugged, entirely unfazed. “You’ll understand when the time is right. For now, I have nothing requiring your attention.” He leaned back, hands folded neatly. “You may remain return to the Astrea residence. All I require of you today… is your presence at the Royal Selection.”

Subaru stared at him, weighing his options. He didn’t like the vague half-answers. But for now, there was nothing else to do except play along.

Turning on his heel, Subaru left the room without another word.

This was not how he wanted things to play out. Roswaal had plans for him—what they were, he couldn’t say. For now, he was stuck in limbo.

For a fleeting moment, he considered going to Emilia, pleading his case to her. It wouldn’t be difficult—he could just tell her outright that he had no desire to remain in Roswaal’s service. If she didn’t want him around, maybe Roswaal would be forced to release him.

Alternatively, the mage could use the contract against him out of spite, but Emilia wasn’t a cruel person. She wouldn’t allow that.

Still, dragging her into this… it didn’t feel right. This wasn’t her battle, and as much as Roswaal was playing some kind of long game, he hadn’t asked anything of Subaru that would warrant taking such drastic measures. Not yet.

Lost in thought, Subaru barely registered the voice calling his name.

“Subaru.”

Looking up, he saw Emilia, seated at a small table in the second-floor dining area, a cup of tea resting between her hands.

“You said you wanted to talk after you met with Roswaal?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Subaru blinked. Right. He had planned to use this conversation to tell her he was leaving Roswaal’s service. But now? That wasn’t exactly true anymore.

“Oh, um…” he hesitated, scrambling for something else to say. “I’m going back over to see Felt later.”

Emilia nodded, setting her tea down. “When are you leaving?”

“In a bit,” Subaru answered quickly. Then, realizing he should at least pretend to be interested in the bigger picture, he added, “When are you heading to the Palace?”

“A few hours, I think…” Emilia trailed off, looking to Ram for confirmation.

Ram gave a curt nod.

Subaru frowned slightly. That was odd. Emilia wasn’t the type to be uncertain about something as simple as her own departure time. Was she nervous? Distracted?

“Just you and Roswaal?” he asked.

“Huh?” Emilia blinked as if pulled from her thoughts.

“I mean, for the Palace visit,” Subaru clarified.

“Oh! Yeah, just us,” she chuckled lightly, brushing a stray silver strand behind her ear. Then, shifting in her seat, she muttered, “I think I need more tea. Rem, more tea?”

Subaru watched as Rem—who had been standing silently nearby—moved smoothly to refill Emilia’s cup.

It was subtle, but Subaru noticed it now—Emilia was anxious.

Maybe the Royal Selection was weighing on her more than she let on.

Subaru forced a smile, though inside, his thoughts were a tangled mess.

"Subaru, if you are not staying, I would suggest you do not distract Lady Emilia," Ram said, her tone firm as ever.

Before he could respond, Emilia jumped in quickly, shaking her head. “He’s no trouble, really!”

Subaru chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "No, it's alright. You should focus." He flashed a thumbs-up. “You’ll do great!”

Emilia gave him a warm smile in return, but there was still that slight edge of tension in her expression.

Rem nodded in agreement, ever the supportive presence, while Ram simply sighed, clearly exasperated with the entire exchange.

With a final glance at Emilia, Subaru turned on his heel, heading for the stairs.

All he could think was that this whole situation was turning into a complete mess.

Chapter 13: ARC 2 - Chapter 3: The Royal Selection

ARC II

---

Chapter III:

The Royal Selection

---

Subaru sat beside Felt, watching her stare out of the window as their carriage rolled toward the Royal Palace. Reinhard had left ahead of them hours ago, leaving just him, Felt, and the twin attendants, Flam and Grassis—not that Subaru had entirely figured out which was which yet. He was starting to notice a slight difference in their hair color, but it was still a challenge.

“I wish Rom were coming,” Felt huffed, her arms crossed.

“You know he’s never been the biggest fan of humans,” Subaru smirked. “You can’t blame him for avoiding this kind of thing.”

Felt scoffed, tapping her fingers against the windowsill. “Still would’ve been nice.”

Subaru glanced at her, watching as she absentmindedly picked at the frills of her dress. It reminded him of how Emilia had been the other morning, clearly anxious about the Selection.

“So, you’re not free of that Roswaal guy yet?” Felt asked, not looking at him.

Subaru sighed, slumping slightly against the cushioned seat. “Nope. Not the best situation, but… we’ll figure it out.”

Felt muttered something under her breath but didn’t argue. Her fingers kept tugging at the lace on her sleeves, a telltale sign of her growing nerves.

“What did you learn, anyway?” she asked after a long silence.

“Learn? You mean from Roswaal?” Subaru arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

“How to fight rocks,” Subaru groaned, already regretting bringing it up.

Felt turned to him, squinting. “Fight… rocks?”

“It was part of a mana control exercise,” Subaru explained with a sigh. “You make a gem glow. Sounds simple, right? It’s way harder than you’d think.”

Felt rolled her eyes. “That’s what you spent the last month doing? Glorified night-light training?”

“Not just that,” Subaru chuckled. “I also read a lot of books and learned a few spells. Not exactly grand mage material, but I’ve got a decent foundation now.”

“That’s still more than most people,” Felt admitted, leaning back against the seat.

“Yeah, but it’s only been a month,” Subaru shrugged. “I barely scratched the surface.”

As the carriage rolled forward, the first checkpoint came into view. The grand gates loomed ahead, guards standing at attention on either side. Subaru knew their carriage carried the proper magical seals, which meant they wouldn’t need a full security inspection.

Still, the sight of the palace walls growing ever closer made his stomach twist. This was really happening.

“You tell the half-elf—” Felt started.

“ Emilia, ” Subaru corrected instinctively.

Felt shot him a look. “Did you tell Emilia about the whole ‘not exactly free of Roswaal’ situation?”

Subaru scratched the back of his head. “No, not exactly…”

Felt let out a deep sigh, shaking her head. “She’s going to be there, you know.”

Subaru frowned, unsure where she was going with this. “Yeah… and?”

Felt clicked her tongue. “For someone so smart, you can be a real dumbass sometimes, bro.”

“What?” Subaru blinked, thrown off by Felt’s words.

“She has no idea I’m a royal candidate, and you’re about to show up supporting me. If you don’t think that’s going to ruffle some feathers, you’re as dense as Conrad’s anvil,” Felt rolled her eyes. “Men… honestly.”

Subaru opened his mouth, then shut it. He had considered this, but he had ultimately decided it was best to let Emilia focus—maybe it would have been better to tell her back at the apartments. She’d been so nervous then, and he hadn’t wanted to drop something like this on her at the worst possible time.

But now? Now it was going to blindside her, and he’d look like a backstabbing idiot.

How was he even supposed to tell her? "Hey, Emilia, turns out Felt’s a Royal Candidate! So, right before the most important day of your life, I’m jumping ship to support her instead. But, don’t worry! Roswaal won’t let me quit as his apprentice, so I’m still technically stuck with you. Sorry!”

Before he could stew on it any further, the carriage came to a stop. Outside, the familiar form of Grimm, the ever-silent old servant, moved to open the door, stepping aside as he helped Felt and the twins exit first.

Subaru inhaled deeply. No backing out now.  

He knew, thanks to the grueling etiquette drills Carol had hammered into him, that this was where he separated from Felt. As a non-noble, he was to gather with the other knights and attendants on the left side of the throne room—a place reserved for knights and the other non-aristocratic attendees.

The grand hall buzzed with conversation as Subaru entered, scanning the room filled with figures clad in pristine armor and noble attire. He instinctively sought out an open spot, finding himself standing next to a demi-human with feline features—cat ears, a tail, and piercing golden eyes.

Before Subaru could even process their presence, the feline-like knight turned to him with a playful smirk.
“Oh, nya-ow… who’s this?” they purred, looking him over with amusement.

Subaru blinked at the peculiar greeting but extended his hand nonetheless.
“Natsuki Subaru.”

The feline knight took it with a delicate, almost lazy handshake, their grasp far more graceful than firm.

“Ferris, pleasure~” they hummed, flicking their tail slightly. Their snow-white uniform gave away their status as a knight, but Subaru immediately noticed something different about them. Unlike Reinhard, who radiated an air of undeniable authority, Ferris exuded something more… playful.

“You’re not a knight, nya~” Ferris observed, tilting their head. “So, I take it you’re here in support of one of the candidates?”

Subaru hesitated for half a second before giving a half-hearted shrug.
“Something like that.”

Ferris chuckled, their sharp golden eyes twinkling with intrigue.
“Nya-oh~, mysterious, are we? Well, since we’re sharing, I am the Knight of Lady Crusch. Most of the other knights here are just neutral observers.” They waved a hand lazily.

“Ah, Subaru, there you are.”

Turning toward the voice, Subaru saw the familiar silhouette of Reinhard approaching. Clad in his official uniform, the same pristine white attire that Ferris wore, the Sword Saint carried himself with the same effortless grace that always made Subaru feel just a little out of place.

“Reinhard,” Subaru greeted with a nod.

“Oh? You two know each other?” Ferris smirked, their golden eyes flicking between the two of them with clear amusement.

“We are acquainted,” Reinhard confirmed smoothly. “Though, I imagine we’ll be working closely together moving forward.”

With a firm clap on the back, Reinhard regarded Subaru with an easy smile. “Speaking of, how was she doing?”

“Fine,” Subaru replied quickly, a little too quickly. In reality, he could only imagine what Felt was doing right now. If he had to guess, she was pacing furiously in some back room, grumbling under her breath about how utterly stupid this entire thing was. He was giving it fifty-fifty odds that her dress would still be intact by the time she made her grand entrance.

“What order is she in exactly?” Subaru asked, shifting the subject.

“She is fifth,” Reinhard explained.

Last. Subaru wasn’t sure if that was a boon or a curse. On one hand, she’d have time to prepare herself after seeing the others go first. On the other hand, it could leave her at a disadvantage, as the audience’s attention span waned by the time she took the floor.

Not much he could do about it now.

“Ooooh, who’s this mysterious girl~?” Ferris leaned in, smirking playfully.

“You’ll know soon enough, Sir Felix,” Reinhard teased, mirroring Ferris’ smirk.

“You know I hate that name,” Ferris groaned, rolling their eyes. “It’s Ferris , Sir Reinhard.” Their tail flicked irritably as they leaned in. “ Ferris ,” they repeated slowly as if lecturing a particularly slow student.

Reinhard chuckled, clearly amused by the correction. “Apologies, the captain has your given name drilled into my head at this point—force of habit.”

“Ugh, honestly, the captain is the worst sometimes,” Ferris sighed dramatically.

Before Subaru could ask who ‘the captain’ was, the sound of heels clicking against marble echoed through the grand hall.

Subaru turned toward the throne room entrance as the guards stiffened, standing at attention. The royal herald stepped forward, their voice ringing clear:

"Presenting the Royal Selection Candidates—Duchess Crusch Karsten, Baroness Priscilla Barielle, Lady Anastasia Hoshin of the Hoshin Company, and Lady Emilia."

Subaru's stomach tightened. He knew this moment was coming, but now that it was here, his nerves spiked.

He considered Emilia’s name—or rather, the lack of anything attached to it.

No title. No lands. Just ‘Lady.’ It was a courtesy at best, an empty formality. The same applied to Felt. They had no grand lineage, no noble backing, nothing but the insignias that had chosen them.

The doors swung open, revealing the candidates as they entered one after another, in the order they were announced.

First was Crusch Karsten. A woman with emerald-green hair, dressed in a sharp blue military-style uniform with a sword at her hip. She carried herself with an air of absolute authority, her every step exuding confidence and composure. Even without knowing her, Subaru could tell—she was someone who commanded respect effortlessly.

Second was Priscilla. An auburn-haired beauty in a flowing red-and-black strapless gown, holding a delicate feather fan. Unlike Crusch’s disciplined air, Priscilla radiated entitlement.

She moved with the lazy grace of someone convinced the world belonged to her, her sharp amber eyes scanning the room as though judging whether the palace itself was worthy of her presence.

Behind her trailed a one-armed man, dressed in a green vest with a long yellow sash draped down his back. His face was completely obscured by a black, closed helm, a single red plume adorning the crown.

Third was Anastasia Hoshin. A petite girl with luxurious purple hair, clad in extravagant white furs. Even to Subaru’s untrained eye, her outfit screamed wealth—the kind of wealth that could feed an entire slum for a year. That thought twisted in his stomach, but it wasn’t like the Mathers or Astrea estates were lacking in opulence either. The rich were always rich.

And finally, Emilia. Dressed in her signature white and lavender gown, she stepped forward with grace despite the inevitable whispers that followed.

Subaru heard it immediately—the murmurs rippling through the gathered nobles. The faint but unmistakable scoffs, the disapproving glares, the snickers hiding behind gloved hands.

Subaru’s fists clenched.

It wasn’t unexpected—he had known this would happen. A silver-haired half-elf stepping into the royal palace as a candidate? Of course, the nobility would mock her.

But knowing it would happen didn’t make it any easier to watch.

He ground his teeth, the urge to wipe those smug looks off their faces nearly overwhelming.

But he held back.

This wasn’t the time.

As Emilia walked forward, Subaru’s attention shifted behind her—his gaze locking onto a familiar, flamboyant figure sweeping into the hall.

Roswaal.

The court mage moved with his usual theatrical grace, his mismatched eyes scanning the room before briefly locking onto Subaru’s.

Subaru stiffened.

There it was again—that smirk. That ever-present look of amusement, like Roswaal was watching a game unfold exactly as he planned. Subaru felt his gut tighten.

What are you thinking, Roswaal?

But before he could dwell on it, his attention snapped back to Emilia. The moment she spotted him, he saw it—the confusion, then frustration flashing across her face. Her violet eyes widened, her lips parting in disbelief.

“S-Subaru?! What are you doing here?!” The mixture of shock and anger in her voice hit Subaru like a gut punch.

Damn it. He had known this moment was coming, but facing it head-on was another thing entirely. He opened his mouth, scrambling for an explanation, but—Reinhard stepped forward first. With a graceful bow, he spoke his voice calm, measured, and composed. 

“Apologies, Lady Emilia. This misunderstanding is my fault alone. You will understand soon enough; however, I must ask that you place this situation at my feet. Subaru is here as my guest at the present moment.”

Subaru blinked. Reinhard… was taking the heat for him?

Emilia’s frown deepened as she looked between them, clear uncertainty written all over her face.

“As your guest?” she repeated, her tone laced with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Reinhard remained unwavering. “I assure you, there is a good explanation for this, Lady Emilia,” he said smoothly, then, with a subtle motion towards the throne, added, “For now, you have other things to concern yourself with.”

Emilia hesitated, her eyes darting around the hall. She was painfully aware that all eyes were still on her. The tension lingered, but eventually, she relented.

“R-right,” she said reluctantly, her voice softer, but her displeasure still evident.

Before stepping forward, she cast one final glance at Subaru—her expression a clear warning: We’ll talk about this later.

And then, she turned, moving to take her place at the front of the hall.

Subaru let out a long breath, but there was no relief to be found.

Felt was right. I really am a dumbass.

There was another announcement from the green-haired man clad in full plate armor at the foot of the throne. A moment later, a long procession of elderly men, their hair white and grey with age, filed in and took their seats on either side of the vacant throne.

Subaru was well aware of the Council of Wise Men, though he had never before laid eyes on the tottering old men who held the fate of the kingdom in their hands. His opinion of them was less than favorable—not that he had ever harbored great admiration for the now-extinct royal family, but life under the late king had been marginally better. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable, even in the slums.

The green-haired knight introduced himself as “Captain Marcos Gildark” before launching into an explanation of the Royal Selection. A brief argument broke out between the candidates, questioning the need to repeat information everyone already knew, but Marcos pressed on regardless.

He recounted the prophecy and explained that the insignias marked their bearers as "Dragon Maidens," chosen by fate itself. Once his explanation concluded, the captain shifted his attention to the knights, his gaze settling on Reinhard.

"Sir Reinhard, please step forward," Marcos called out.

The Sword Saint complied, stepping forward with his usual poise. "Yes, Sir," he said with a respectful bow. "I, Reinhard van Astrea of the Imperial Knights, have completed my mission. I have found the fifth and final Dragon Maiden, and with her, the last candidate for the throne."

At that moment, the large double doors to the chamber swung open. Subaru turned just in time to see Felt enter, flanked by Flam and Grassis. Her posture was rigid, and her expression was a mixture of defiance and discomfort, as all eyes in the room locked onto her.

"The one I, myself, revere as the next queen," Reinhard declared, gesturing toward her, "Felt."

A murmur spread through the gathered nobles and dignitaries as Felt made her way forward, moving as gracefully as she could manage. Subaru could almost hear Carol’s etiquette lessons rattling in her head as she attempted to appear composed.

From the corner of his eye, Subaru caught Emilia’s stunned expression, her gaze snapping toward him almost instinctively. He quickly averted his eyes, unsure how to deal with her inevitable questions. That conversation was coming, no doubt about it—especially with Roswaal’s ever-looming, undefined "favors" hanging over his head.

Felt stormed over, shooting Reinhard a quick glare before stopping beside Subaru. “I hate this,” she muttered under her breath, then slipped away to stand beside Emilia.

The moment Felt took her place, Emilia leaned in and spoke to her in a hushed tone. Subaru strained to understand their words, but all he could gather was that Emilia was still trying to piece everything together. Her expression flickered between confusion and concern, and she was clearly unsettled by this latest revelation.

“Sir Reinhard,” one of the Wise Men finally spoke, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the gathered nobility. “If you would be so kind as to illuminate those present as to the nature of your discovery of Lady Felt?”

Reinhard bowed and began recounting the events that had led him to find Felt. Subaru noted how he carefully omitted any mention of Elsa or the bloody struggle at the loot house. The audience, however, seized on a different detail entirely—the revelation that Felt had been living in the slums just a month prior sent a ripple of outrage through the assembled nobles.

“She’s a gutter rat from the slums?!”

“Impossible! A filthy beggar—or worse, a thief—as queen? Unthinkable!”

“I must protest this!” another voice called out.

Subaru clenched his fist, ready to fire back, but Felt was quicker. She spun on her heel, scowling at the assembled nobles.

“Well, sorry we couldn’t all be born with a silver spoon shoved up our ass!” she shot back, her voice dripping with venom.

Reinhard sighed but made no move to restrain her. Subaru knew it was unrealistic to expect Felt to hold her tongue—he doubted he would have fared much better in her place.

“How crude,” Priscilla scoffed, fanning herself with feigned amusement. “But I suppose it’s only natural for a common gutter rat to behave as such. You can’t expect grace from filth.”

Felt’s scowl deepened. “Oh? You wanna fight, lady? Because I’m more than happy to knock that smug look off your face.”

“How insolent,” Priscilla sneered, eyes gleaming with condescension. “To think someone as lowly as you would even dare to assume they could.”

With a flick of her fan, embers crackled in the air, a clear display of magic at her command. Subaru’s instincts flared—his hand shot to his sword, mana surging through his legs, ready to launch himself forward at a moment’s notice.

“Princess, maybe not here!” a deep voice called out from somewhere behind Subaru.

In an instant, Reinhard was between the two girls, offering a polite bow. “Many pardons.”

“This is a sacred hall,” Emilia said indignantly, stepping forward. “You’re behaving disgracefully.”

“It is only proper for her betters to remind an undisciplined little bitch of her place,” Priscilla smirked, tilting her head as if amused.

“That is hardly an apology,” Emilia shot back, eyes narrowing. “You’re the one acting recklessly in a place like this.”

“Oh? And will you apologize for being born, silver-haired demon child?” Priscilla’s gaze flicked down at Emilia, her tone dripping with contempt.

The room went deathly silent.

Subaru’s sword was out before he even realized it, the sharp ring of steel echoing through the chamber. Rage boiled over inside him, mana flooding his veins, his foot digging into the floor hard enough to crack the tile beneath it. Every offensive spell Roswaal had taught him, every technique he had read about, flashed through his mind in an instant.

A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Subaru turned, meeting the steely gaze of the helmed man standing beside Priscilla. Through the slit in his visor, his expression remained unreadable, but his grip was solid, unyielding. “I must apologize for the princess,” the man said, his voice calm but heavy. “Please, calm yourself, brother.”

Subaru glanced around the chamber. All eyes were now on him. Several knights had their hands resting on the hilts of their swords, ready to intervene. Swallowing his anger, he forced himself to let out a slow breath and sheathed his blade.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the faintest smirk on Felt’s lips. Seems they had both lost their tempers.

“Princess, I think you’re making one too many enemies right now,” the helmed man muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“If you are all quite finished,” the oldest of the Wisemen finally spoke, his tone tinged with irritation, “perhaps we can proceed.”

Subaru retook his place, seething with the lingering desire to teach that smug, auburn-haired aristocrat a lesson.

“If we are all here, then we shall proceed,” the eldest of the Wise Men intoned. “If the attendants to the candidates will join their respective Priestesses, we may begin.”

Reinhard stepped beside Felt, while Roswaal took his place next to Emilia. Subaru observed as the one-armed, helmed knight rejoined Priscilla, while Ferris slipped past him to stand by Crusch. A lilac-haired knight, whom Subaru had yet to meet, moved to Anastasia’s side.

“Good. We shall now allow each candidate—”

“Ahem.” A pointed cough cut through the chamber.

The source was a bald, thick-browed counselor, his beady eyes scanning the assembly. The shift in the atmosphere was immediate; the room quieted, eyes flicking toward him expectantly.

“Councilor Bordeaux, do you have something to add?” the white-bearded Wise Man, leaned forward, his gaze narrowing at his colleague.

“Indeed, I do.” Bordeaux laced his fingers together, speaking slowly, deliberately. “I see before us three qualified candidates, Lord Miklotov.” His gaze, sharp with disapproval, landed on Felt and Emilia. “However, as the esteemed Baroness so… colorfully pointed out, the Mathers and Astrea households have presented us with a half-demon bearing the likeness of the Witch and a lowborn street rat. Are we truly expected to entertain such laughable propositions?”

A murmur rippled through the gathered nobles, their hushed voices tinged with agreement. Subaru clenched his fists. This was exactly why he despised the nobility—so obsessed with bloodlines and status that they refused to see beyond their narrow, gilded perspectives.

Miklotov, however, remained composed. “Be that as it may,” he countered smoothly, “the insignias have accepted them. It is not for us to determine who is or isn’t qualified—that authority rests with the Dragon’s divine will. Our purpose is not to judge their birthright, but to oversee the process that will reveal which among them is truly worthy.”

The other councilor bowed his head. “I would be remiss if I did not voice my concerns.”

Miklotov grunted but allowed the matter to rest, moving forward with the proceedings. “Each candidate will now declare their intention to participate in the Royal Selection. If they so choose, they may also elaborate on how they intend to rule the Kingdom, should they ascend to the throne.”

“Naturally, I will go first,” Priscilla announced with a smug smirk, already stepping forward.

“No,” Crusch countered sharply, her gaze steady and unwavering. “In terms of presentation, you are second. We will proceed in the order established earlier.”

Priscilla huffed, flicking her fan dismissively. “Fine, have it your way.”

“Lady Crusch Karsten, Sir Felix Argyle, the floor is yours,” Miklotov declared, his voice firm.

“It’s Ferris,” the knight corrected with a sigh, his tail flicking behind him. “If it pleases ny—er, you, counselor.”

“It’s Sir Felix,” Captain Marcos corrected, but Crusch waved the matter aside, maintaining her composed demeanor.

“At any rate,” Crusch cleared her throat, her voice commanding the attention of the room. “Allow me to dispel a misconception some of you may hold. Should I ascend to the throne, the status quo will not persist.”

The room buzzed with murmurs of curiosity and apprehension. Nobles exchanged glances, clearly uneasy with her bold declaration. Crusch did not waver, her poise unshakable.

“If I am chosen to lead this nation,” she continued, her voice resonating through the chamber, “I do not intend to continue our Covenant with the Dragon.”

The uproar was immediate and deafening. Nobles shouted in outrage, their faces pale with shock. A few looked scandalized, clutching at their chests as if the air had been stolen from them.

Crusch remained still, her hand rising slowly but purposefully. After a moment, the room quieted once more, although anxious whispers continued to ripple through the assembly.

“If we are not able to stand on our own, we have no right to be a nation,” Crusch declared, her gaze fierce and unyielding. “For centuries, we have relied on the Dragon’s power to protect our land, to guide our destiny. In doing so, we have allowed ourselves to grow weak, complacent, and stagnant. It is shameful that a kingdom as vast and prosperous as Lugunica is dependent on the power of another.”

Her eyes scanned the crowd, meeting the gazes of nobles and knights alike, daring them to challenge her resolve. “The world is changing. The threats we face require strength of our own, not borrowed might. It is far past time we take fate into our own hands, for better or worse.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of her words settling over the room like a dense fog. Subaru could see the ripples of her statement affecting everyone present. Even Priscilla had stopped fanning herself, her golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Crusch’s conviction was clear. She was not merely vying for the throne; she was demanding change—demanding the nation to stand on its own, untethered from the past.

It was bold. It was dangerous. And it was undoubtedly revolutionary.

“Sir Felix, have you anything to add?” Miklotov leaned forward, his sharp eyes fixed on Crusch's knight.

Ferris sighed at the title but didn’t attempt to correct them this time. “Nothing, other than I fully believe in Lady Crusch. In my heart, she is the only sensible choice to hold the title of King,” Ferris said, his voice brimming with unwavering loyalty. His smile was radiant, a clear indication of his pride in his master.

“Very well,” Miklotov said before turning his attention to the next candidate. “Baroness Priscilla, I believe you are prepared? Who is your attendant?”

“Al,” Priscilla declared with a flick of her wrist, her tone dripping with entitlement. “Get over here.”

Subaru watched as the helmed man moved through the gathered assembly and took his place beside her. There was a casualness to his movements, a complete lack of formality that stood in stark contrast to the other knights. Yet, there was no denying the aura of power and readiness about him.

“Now that everyone’s eyes are on me, I can tell you who will be your next ruler,” Priscilla declared with a smug smirk, her fan flicking closed with a snap. “After all, everything in this world exists to benefit me. The heavens themselves have chosen me. So all you need to do is bow down and serve me. I am the winning side, after all.”

Subaru felt his jaw tighten. Her arrogance was staggering, her sense of superiority overwhelming. It wasn’t just confidence—it was absolute certainty that the world was hers by divine right.

“Interesting,” Miklotov murmured, stroking his long white beard thoughtfully. “Sir Al, have you anything to add?”

“Well, I’m not a knight,” Al admitted, scratching the back of his neck casually, his demeanor so relaxed that he almost seemed out of place. “But since my lady took over the lands of her late husband, the Bariel holdings have prospered. I’ve never seen the princess be wrong about anything. It’s like she has some natural ability to just be right. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

Al’s gaze swept over the gathered nobles, his tone gaining a subtle edge. “She’s going to win. It’s a matter of when not if. The sooner people get on board, the more prosperity they’ll enjoy.”

There was a murmur of unease through the assembly. The confidence, the certainty—it was difficult to argue against. Yet, the arrogance was grating.

Miklotov nodded and turned his attention to the next candidate. “Lady Anastasia Hoshin, if you would?”

Anastasia beamed, her playful demeanor instantly setting her apart from the others. Subaru noted her Kararagi accent and the casual ease with which she presented herself. There was a disarming charm about her.

“I don’t have a gimmick like the last two, I’m afraid,” Anastasia chuckled, her lilac eyes gleaming mischievously. “I’m just a girl from the lower classes of the Free Trading Cities, born and raised in Kararagi. But as the Chairman of the Hoshin Company, I can tell you one thing: I am extremely greedy!”

The blunt admission took Subaru by surprise. He wasn’t sure what to make of it—who openly admitted to something like that?

“That’s why I’m the best merchant in the world, you see. I’ve got a nose for gold and silver, and I want it more than anyone else! I want more and more, and now… I want a country for myself too!”

Subaru’s jaw almost dropped. She was blunt, direct, and shameless about her ambitions. It was both refreshing and unsettling.

“If this country doesn’t satisfy my greed, I’ll use it to get more! But don’t worry,” she flashed a smile that was somehow both charming and cunning, “I love what belongs to me, so I’ll make sure to take good care of this nation, through thick and thin. So just relax, everyone, and become mine!”

She said it so casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Subaru was torn between grudging admiration for her honesty and a deep-seated unease at her unabashed avarice.

“Sir Julius, do you have anything to add?” Miklotov inquired, his voice steady as ever.

Julius stepped forward, his posture regal and composed. “While my Lady’s words may come off as abrasive to some,” he began, his golden eyes scanning the room, “her economic acumen is unmatched. Not only that, but she is a compassionate master who would never rule with cruelty. I do not doubt that under her guidance, our nation would prosper immensely.”

He bowed deeply, his loyalty evident in every word. “In these times of uncertainty, Lady Anastasia is the leader who can guide us to prosperity.”

Subaru watched Julius closely. There was no deception in his words. Whatever flaws his master might have, Julius genuinely believed in her.

Miklotov turned to the next candidate. “Lady Emilia, you are next. Lord Roswaal, please join her.”

Emilia took a step forward, her silver hair catching the light as she looked around nervously. Her amethyst eyes reflected a mixture of determination and uncertainty.

“How teeerribly out of place for meee to come out before her when others have such finnnnne knights,” Roswaal’s mismatched eyes flicked to Reinhard, a sly smirk curling at his lips.

Emilia seemed to freeze, nerves evident as she stepped forward. She took a deep breath before speaking, her voice soft but steady. “H-Hello, everyone,” she began, pausing to gather her courage. “I am Emilia. I have no family name, so just call me Emilia.”

Subaru felt a surge of relief, his shoulders relaxing as he realized her nerves hadn’t completely gotten the better of her. Despite himself, he found his heart rooting for her, even though his purpose here was to support Felt.

“I am supported by Lord Roswaal L. Mathers, and with—”

“Lord Roswaal,” Councilor Bordeaux’s voice cut through the air, sharp and accusatory, “Before we entertain this any further, I must understand how you came across a half-devil who possesses the qualifications to be considered!”

“Councilor, we have already been over this,” Miklotov’s glare was cold and unyielding, clearly displeased by the interruption.

“And yet, I must know,” Bordeaux persisted, his tone dripping with suspicion. “I must know if this is some trick of our dear Court Magician. If we’re being played for fools, I would have us know before we listen to why the spitting image of the Witch of Envy stands in these hallowed halls. Insignia or no.”

Roswaal’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Verrrry well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with theatrical mockery. “Subaru, please, attend me.”

Subaru blinked, his body freezing in place as confusion washed over him. Why was he being called upon? What could he possibly add to this?

Frowning, he moved out from where he stood among the other knights. He felt Felt’s gaze on him, her expression puzzled, and he could only offer a helpless shrug as if to say, I don’t know either.

As he approached Roswaal and Emilia, Subaru’s heart pounded in his chest. The attention of the entire room was on him now, and he had no idea what was about to happen.

“And who is this?” Miklotov arched an eyebrow, his voice carrying a note of curiosity.

“This is my dear apprentice, Subaru Natsuki,” Roswaal gestured to Subaru, his smile unwavering.

Subaru shot Roswaal a glare. What are you plotting, Master? He didn’t trust that grin for a second. Whatever Roswaal was scheming, Subaru was certain it wouldn’t end well for him.

“I was unaware you took on students,” Miklotov’s eyes flicked over Subaru, his gaze analytical, sizing him up in an instant.

“Interesting as that might be, I struggle to find his relevance to the topic of her,” Bordeaux interjected, his tone dripping with disdain. His eyes narrowed as they flicked to Emilia. “Even if she is eligible, the notion that she could win is laughable.”

“You will understand my young apprentice’s relevance soon enough,” Roswaal said smoothly, waving a dismissive hand. His voice took on an airy, almost whimsical tone as he continued, “Emilia is indeed a half-elf, and by all traditional logic, she would seem to be the woooorst earth dragon to bet on in this race. A rather… how might I put this… placeholder.”

Emilia’s face fell, her eyes widening in hurt and shock. Subaru’s jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack. Every word out of Roswaal’s mouth felt like a stab to his chest. The sheer condescension made his blood boil.

“Are you saying you don’t have any confidence in your candidate?” Miklotov’s voice held disbelief, his brows knitting together.

“None whatsoever,” Roswaal’s smirk widened, his mismatched eyes gleaming with mischief as they slid to Subaru.

Subaru’s entire body went rigid, the muscles in his neck tightening. A heat started to rise within him, simmering beneath his skin. What the hell is he playing at? He could feel the anger bubbling up, his fists clenching so hard his nails bit into his palms.

Then, a searing pain tore through his hip, sharp and sudden. Subaru’s eyes went wide as a bright, blinding light burst from his pocket, the heat intensifying to an unbearable degree.

Looking down, his heart skipped a beat. The training crystal—he’d completely forgotten it was still in his pocket, and it was glowing brighter and brighter, its light so intense it was nearly blinding.

In a panic, Subaru grabbed at the gem, only for his fingers to sear on contact. It felt as if he’d grabbed a white-hot billet of steel fresh from the forge. With a cry of pain, he dropped the crystal, clutching his hand as pain shot up his arm.

The crystal fell to the floor, the light within it swirling wildly, unstable and growing more dangerous by the second. It looked ready to explode.

“Damn it!” Subaru stumbled back, his eyes wide with panic.

“That’s not ideal,” a familiar voice cut through the chaos. A blast of cold air swept through the room, and a thick layer of ice encased the crystal in an instant. The crystal hissed and steamed as it cooled.

Subaru looked up, his heart pounding, to find Puck floating between him and Emilia, his fur bristling with irritation. The spirit’s face was unusually serious as his piercing eyes locked on Roswaal.

“You,” Puck’s voice was cold as ice, a dangerous edge to his usually playful tone. “What was that?”

Subaru cradled his burned hand, his teeth gritted in pain. But even through the haze of pain, his eyes were locked on Roswaal, who continued to smile as if everything was going exactly as planned.

“What the hell, Roswaal!” Subaru hissed, clutching his burning hand. His thigh throbbed painfully, the fabric of his pants sticking to his skin where they’d partially melted from the heat.

“It appears my young apprentice let his anger get the best of him,” Roswaal’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Crystals are delicate things, especially when so much mana is poured into them. A pity… we hadn’t quite reached that lesson yet. But the appearance of you, Puck, was my intention all along.”

Subaru’s jaw tightened. “So you nearly melted my leg off just to get Puck to come out?”

“How cruel,” Puck’s voice was cold, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “That was your plan all along?”

“I don’t understand, Roswaal! What exactly is going on here?” Emilia’s voice wavered, her violet eyes wide with confusion.

Miklotov’s eyes widened as he peered more closely at Puck. “Is that… The Beast of the End?”

Puck’s lips curled into a chilling smile. “Guilty as charged,” he said lightly, his tone at odds with the cold fury radiating from him. His gaze shifted to Bordeaux, his pupils narrowing. “Now, if my beloved daughter wishes it… I’ll show you exactly how I earned that title.”

The temperature in the throne room plummeted. Frost crawled along the floor, and the air grew heavy, almost suffocating. Subaru shivered, his burns momentarily forgotten as the cold seeped into his bones.

“I heard you lowly humans saying some vile things about my daughter,” Puck’s voice was as cold as the ice forming around him. “I won’t stand for that.”

The knights’ hands flew to their sword hilts, faces pale with fear. All but Reinhard, who remained composed, only moving half a step in front of Felt in a silent gesture of protection.

Roswaal’s eyes gleamed with wicked amusement. “How terrifying one of the Four Great Spirits can be,” he mused, his voice lilting. “And this particular one is in the service of Lady Emilia. Such a mighty beast he is. His contractor must be quite powerful indeed.”

“You’re saying this… half-elf is contracted with a Great Spirit?” Bordeaux’s voice wavered, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Puck’s gaze locked on the counselor, his eyes gleaming with a cold light. “And if my beloved daughter wished it, I’d turn every last one of you into ice sculptures. You’d better be grateful that Lia has more patience than I do… that includes you, Roswaal.”

Roswaal’s smile remained, though his eyes flickered with intrigue. “Terrifying indeed.”

“I see… theatrics,” Miklotov’s lips curled into a smirk. “A show of force? Is that what this is?”

Roswaal’s mismatched eyes gleamed with amusement. “To be called out so brazenly… then yes, I suppose it is.”

“You crazy bastard!” Subaru cursed, clutching his burned hand, pain radiating up his arm. “You nearly blew my leg off!”

“No, you nearly blew your own leg off, young Subaru,” Roswaal sighed, his sing-song voice grating on Subaru’s nerves. “If you paid attention to your lessons, you would knooow that unstable emotions can lead to mana leakage. It was meant to be a lesson in caution down the road. Whaaat an inopportune time for suuuuch a thing to transpire. Luuuucky for you, Crusch’s knight is quiiiite the healer.”

“I question your teaching methods,” Emilia said, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms, her violet eyes flashing with anger.

“You must suck as a teacher! You can’t be serious!” Felt shouted, struggling against Reinhard’s iron grip. “Hey, let go!”

“Regardless, this has worked in our favor,” Roswaal continued, ignoring the outbursts. “I was hoping to draw Puck out by other means… but this works juuuuust as well.” His eyes flicked to Emilia. “Lady Emilia, if you wish to continue?”

Emilia hesitated, her gaze lingering on Subaru’s injured hand. “Subaru’s hand… are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” Subaru lied through gritted teeth, the searing pain making his vision swim. “But before she goes on, if that whole gem business wasn’t why you called me up… what was the point?”

“I was intending to have you speak to her actions in Arlam,” Roswaal replied smoothly, his smirk never fading. “You caaaan still do that, can’t you? As a favor.”

Subaru’s jaw tightened, a fresh wave of anger surging through him. 

Favor, my ass, he thought bitterly.

He could feel the gazes of the entire hall on him, waiting for his answer. Roswaal’s eyes gleamed with amusement, fully aware of the corner he’d backed Subaru into.

He was cornered, and he knew it. Saying no wasn’t an option, not when Roswaal was holding all the cards. Subaru suspected the near explosion at his side was orchestrated—either as part of some twisted game or, worse, as punishment.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Emilia said softly, her violet eyes filled with concern.

“No, it’s fine,” Subaru forced out, his jaw clenched against the pain in his burned hand.

“Go on then,” Miklotov prompted, leaning back in his chair, his gaze expectant.

Taking a deep breath, Subaru turned to face the hall. His eyes landed on Felt, who was watching him with a frown. He gave her an apologetic glance before beginning. “Just under a month ago, an incident occurred in the village of Arlam. The children went missing—abducted by Wolgrams which had breached the village’s barrier. Emilia led the members of the Mathers household to rescue them, ensuring their safety. Thanks to her leadership, there were no injuries.”

There was a murmur among the nobility, some sounding skeptical while others seemed intrigued.

“Thank you,” Emilia whispered, her voice soft with relief. “Now, let Ferris take care of those burns.”

Subaru glanced down at his hand, the angry red welts throbbing in time with his heartbeat. A grimace twisted his face as he carefully flexed his fingers, the searing pain reminding him just how badly he’d been burned.

“Well, you’re lucky,” Ferris said, his cat-like tail flicking with impatience. “Come on, this way.”

Subaru hesitated, his gaze drifting back to the throne room where Felt stood amidst the chaos. “I’ll stay until Felt has had her turn,” he insisted, his voice firm despite the increasing pain radiating from his hand and thigh.

Ferris narrowed his eyes, his ears twitching in irritation. “You’re running out of whatever adrenaline boost is keeping you upright, nya. Those burns are second and third-degree. If you wait much longer, you won’t be standing at all.”

Subaru clenched his jaw but couldn’t deny the truth. Each passing second brought another wave of pain, the burns pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He gave one last look toward Felt, his eyes locking with hers for a brief moment. Her expression was conflicted—relief mixed with worry and something else he couldn’t quite place.

“Fine… you win,” Subaru sighed, finally relenting.

“Ny-aturally,” Ferris grinned, his tail swishing smugly. Without waiting for another protest, he took Subaru by his uninjured wrist and led him out of the grand hall.

As they exited, Subaru cast one last glance over his shoulder. Felt was still watching him, her face unreadable. He could only hope she wouldn’t do anything reckless in his absence.

The relief from the Water Magic was immediate. A cool, soothing sensation washed over Subaru's burnt hand and thigh. Subaru was amazed at how quickly the pain dulled. The blistered skin knit itself back together under the bright blue glow of Ferris’s healing magic. Watching his flesh mend so effortlessly was surreal.

“You’re quite the oddity, you know that?” Ferris observed, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the newly healed skin.

“What do you mean?” Subaru asked, wincing as the demi-human knight’s nimble fingers pressed along his thigh, checking for any lingering damage.

“You’re familiar with Felt, yet here you are in Lady Emilia’s camp. And stop twitching,” Ferris scolded, producing a small knife and carefully cutting away the burnt fabric from Subaru’s pant leg. “I can’t work if you’re squirming.”

Subaru sighed, glancing down at the ruined garment. He hoped they had a spare pair of trousers nearby—he’d look ridiculous limping back into the grand hall half-dressed. “I’m not in Emilia’s camp. I’m in Felt’s.”

“Oh? Really ny-ow?” Ferris’s ears twitched with curiosity. “I was under the impression you were the clown noble’s apprentice.”

“I grew up in the slums with Felt,” Subaru explained. “I’ve only been in his service for a month. Ouch!” He yelped as Ferris’s fingers found a particularly tender spot.

“You’re one of the fussier patients I’ve worked on,” Ferris teased, his tail flicking with amusement. “Anyway, you like Emilia, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do… but…” Subaru hesitated, searching for the right words.

“She’s not family?” Ferris finished for him, his eyes softening.

“Exactly. I’ll always stand with my sister,” Subaru said firmly. “But I owe Roswaal a few favors... unfortunately.”

Ferris’s eyes widened. “What? Did you sign a contract?”

“I did.”

“With Roswaal?” Ferris looked genuinely shocked. “I mean… I wouldn’t put my pen to any contract with a mage, especially one like him. Even if I didn’t have a natural talent for Water Magic and good teachers, I wouldn’t risk it. Your teacher seems to have a habit of blowing your leg off.”

“Yeah… or worse…” Subaru muttered, his gaze drifting toward the door, his thoughts clouded by the implications of what Roswaal might ask of him next.

By the time Ferris had finished healing his injuries, the grand doors of the hall swung open, and a stream of nobles poured out, their chatter echoing through the corridor. Ferris gave Subaru a sympathetic smile before slipping away to rejoin Crusch.

Subaru’s eyes immediately locked on Felt, who was being escorted out by the twins, their expressions impassive as they flanked her. He moved to approach her, but a firm hand gripped his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“Subaru, I must request that you return with Lord Roswaal for now,” Reinhard said, his voice steady but unyielding.

“What? No, I’m going with my sister.” Subaru took a step forward, only for Reinhard’s grip to tighten, his strength unrelenting.

“I must insist,” Reinhard repeated, his eyes serious.

“Why?” Subaru’s frustration was palpable.

“Roswaal requested that you speak with Lady Emilia. As I understand it, you are under contract with him. Until that obligation is resolved, I cannot fully trust where your loyalties lie. Please understand my position.”

Subaru’s jaw clenched. “You think I’d betray Felt?”

“No,” Reinhard’s answer was immediate, his expression softening. “This is not about doubting you. It’s about the nature of your contract. If it’s as binding as Felt described, then your loyalty is not your own—it belongs to Roswaal. Until you are free of that contract, I cannot allow you to influence her candidacy. Please understand.”

Subaru’s gaze shifted to Roswaal, who stood nearby, engaged in conversation with several nobles. Subaru’s hands curled into fists as he watched the mage’s eyes flicker in his direction, his lips curling into a barely contained smirk.

“So, until I break this contract, I’m stuck with him?” Subaru took a step back, his shoulders tense.

“Yes,” Reinhard confirmed, his tone firm. “Lady Felt is… not pleased about it either. I promised her it would be temporary.”

Subaru’s chest tightened. “Why didn’t she tell me herself?”

Reinhard’s expression softened, his grip loosening. “She’s upset with you. Felt believed you were with her, yet you stood beside Lady Emilia today. It’s… complicated.”

Subaru’s heart sank. He wanted to explain, but there was nothing he could say that would justify it. He looked back at Roswaal, who was watching him with amusement, clearly enjoying the scene.

I’m going to kill that smug bastard.

Shrugging off Reinhard’s hand, Subaru stormed off, his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched. He didn’t look back as he moved away from Roswaal and the Sword Saint, his anger boiling beneath the surface. Right now, he had more pressing concerns—like finding a new pair of trousers that weren’t half-melted and singed.

Chapter 14: ARC 2 - Chapter 4: Hammering

ARC II

---

Chapter IV:

Hammering

---

“You fucking bastard!” Subaru shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of Roswaal’s study.

His chest heaved with anger, his fists trembling at his sides. Refusing to ride with Emilia after the Royal Selection had been the only way to keep himself from losing it. He couldn’t stomach the thought of being confined in that carriage with her and Roswaal, knowing what the clown noble had just pulled. He had marched back to the apartment, his anger growing with each step.

Now, standing before Roswaal, Subaru’s fury threatened to consume him. The sight of that smug, infuriating smile only made it worse.

“Your anger is expected, but misplaced,” Roswaal said with that infuriatingly calm tone. “You are my apprentice, Subaru. No one forced you to sign that agreement.”

“But you won’t free me from it unless I do your bidding?” Subaru’s fist slammed into the desk, splintering the wood. Pain shot up his arm, but he didn’t care. “What do you think I am, your slave?!”

“A slaaaave? Hardly,” Roswaal chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “No, Emilia would never allow such a thing.”

“I’ll go to her. I’ll tell her everything and she’ll force you to release me,” Subaru snapped.

“You could,” Roswaal conceded, “But what would stop me from refusing? The contracts of my servants are of no concern to her, nor are they within her authority.”

Subaru’s nails bit into his palms as he struggled to control his rage. “Why? Why go to such lengths? What do you want from me? I’m no prodigy. I’m not special. Why do you care so much about keeping me around?”

“Oh, but you are special,” Roswaal’s voice lowered, his mismatched eyes flickering with something unreadable. “A specimen that only comes along once in a generation… or several, in this case.”

Subaru felt a chill run down his spine. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You will understand in due time,” Roswaal leaned back, his smile widening. “For now, take heart, Subaru. This is not a bad thing I am doing to you. Only a selfish thing.”

Subaru’s jaw clenched, his fists trembling. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

“No,” Roswaal’s eyes gleamed. “Not yet.”

Subaru’s fury surged, but he could feel his body beginning to tremble from exhaustion. “You...”

“Go get some rest, my young apprentice,” Roswaal’s voice was smooth, his tone infuriatingly casual. “You’ll need your strength for what’s to come.”

Subaru gave Roswaal one last glare before turning on his heel and sweeping out of the room. Outside, Ram stood waiting, her posture rigid, her eyes fixed on him. Subaru moved to sweep past her, his shoulders tense, his body heavy with exhaustion and anger. But Ram stepped into his path, blocking his way with an unyielding stance.

“What do you want?” Subaru growled, his voice low, his patience thin.

“You are part of Lord Roswaal’s household,” Ram’s tone was sharp, her crimson eyes narrowing, “So do not speak to our master in such a tone again.”

“I’ll speak to that bastard however I like,” Subaru shot back, his eyes burning with defiance. “It’s not like he’s going to let me go if I call him the Clown Noble to his face.”

Before he could register her movement, Ram’s hand was a blur, the crack of her slap echoing down the hall. Pain exploded across Subaru’s cheek, his head snapping to the side. The sharp sting burned on his skin, and for a split second, he felt his mana flare, his body instinctively tensing as his muscles coiled.

But he let the anger drain away, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to relax. He wouldn’t hit her. No matter how furious he was, no matter how much everything hurt, he wasn’t going to stoop to that level.

He rubbed his cheek, glaring at her, his eyes cold. “Feel better?”

Ram’s eyes narrowed further, but she said nothing. Her shoulders were tense, her jaw set in a rigid line. For a moment, the two stood there in silence, the air between them thick with tension. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and entered Roswaal’s study, closing the door firmly behind her.

Subaru stood there, his cheek throbbing, his head spinning with anger and frustration. He knew he had just made an enemy of the pink-haired maid, but in his mind, siding with Roswaal made her an enemy from the start. If she wanted to stand with that manipulative bastard, then so be it.

Turning away, Subaru trudged down the hallway, his shoulders slumped, his feet heavy. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He needed sleep—needed to clear his head before he did something even more reckless. He had no idea what Roswaal would demand of him tomorrow, but whatever it was, he’d face it on his own terms.

Because as long as he was trapped under that damn contract, he had no other choice. 

---

The next morning, Subaru woke with a bruise on his cheek. He paid the injury no mind as he got up. Outside his room was Rem, who dropped the hamper full of sheets upon seeing the side of his face. Subaru lied, telling her he’d fallen on his way back from the palace the night before. He didn’t want to cause tension between the sisters, and while Rem seemed to have grown a liking to him, he highly doubted he outranked Ram in terms of Rem’s loyalty.

One healing magic session later, Subaru found himself sitting across from Emilia for morning tea. Rem served biscuits quietly, her eyes lingering on him before she slipped out of the room.

Subaru sat in silence, his shoulders tight, his body heavy with exhaustion. Since arriving in the capital, nothing had gone according to plan. He had envisioned a simple trip: retrieve Felt from Reinhard, support Emilia’s candidacy, and then return to the manor to complete his training. But those plans had shattered the moment Felt was revealed as a royal candidate.

And then there was Roswaal. Subaru’s jaw tightened just thinking about him. The mage’s true colors were finally showing, but his motivations remained murky. Was it sabotage? A deeper scheme? Subaru couldn’t make sense of it, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

“So…” Emilia began tentatively, “We need to… discuss things.”

“So discuss,” Subaru’s tone came out sharper than he intended.

Emilia flinched but pressed on, “Felt. She’s a royal candidate.”

“Obviously,” Subaru focused on his biscuits rather than Emilia. He didn’t trust himself to look at her right now.

“How long did you know, exactly?”

“The day we visited the Astrea’s mansion,” Subaru replied flatly. “Roswaal knew long before I did, but he didn’t see fit to tell me.”

“I see…” Emilia’s expression fell, her fingers fidgeting with the handle of her teacup. “So… why are you here?”

“Why do you think?”

“Your contract?” she ventured, her voice small.

Subaru gave a curt nod. He hated how he sounded, how bitter his words were coming out, but he was too tired to fake it. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to release the anger that had been boiling in his chest since the day before.

“Listen,” he started, his voice softening, “I like you, Emilia. I respect you. But if it weren’t for this contract… I would be with Felt right now.”

Emilia looked down, her shoulders sagging. “Have you tried asking Roswaal to let you go? I’m sure—”

Subaru let out a dry laugh, his jaw tightening. “Of course, I asked.”

Emilia’s face fell, her violet eyes clouded with concern. “Then… why won’t he let you go? If it’s for my sake, I don’t want to keep you in his service against your will.”

“It has nothing to do with you, honest,” Subaru replied, though a knot of doubt twisted in his stomach. “This is between us. I don’t want you to interfere.”

“But you also don’t want to be in my camp,” Emilia said after a long moment, her voice wavering.

Subaru looked up, and for the first time, he saw the hurt in her eyes. He swallowed hard, but he wouldn’t lie to spare her feelings. “No.”

“You can’t return to Felt?”

“Reinhard won’t allow it, not so long as I am under contract with Roswaal,” Subaru confirmed.

Emilia looked at him for a long moment before taking a deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly. “Then…” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, “I can’t allow you to be by my side either.”

Subaru’s eyes widened, but then the realization hit him. “For the same reasons as Reinhard. You can’t have me in your inner circle while I’m planning to join Felt.”

Emilia nodded solemnly. “I…” Her voice caught, but she quickly swallowed and composed herself. Rising, she placed her teacup down with a trembling hand. “Thank you for your honesty… Subaru.”

Without another word, she turned and hurried out of the room, her silver hair flowing behind her.

Subaru didn’t move to stop her. He didn’t have the right. His heart felt heavy as he watched her leave. Somehow, he had managed to isolate himself from both Emilia and Felt—no, not him— Roswaal . That damned mage had orchestrated this perfectly.

Subaru clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He had played right into Roswaal’s hands. And now, he was more alone than ever.

By lunch, Rem and Ram had prepared the carriage to take Emilia back to the Manor. Subaru stood on the third floor, watching them through the window of Roswaal’s study. He wouldn’t be joining them. Emilia had a lengthy conversation with Roswaal earlier—Subaru hoped she had given him a good verbal thrashing, but he was certain it had all played into the mage’s plan. Subaru was merely reacting, just another pawn on Roswaal’s board.

If he could, Subaru would have gone back and stopped himself from signing that damn contract. He wished he understood his time looping better. He knew death triggered the power, but perhaps there was some way to activate it without dying. His ability was somehow tied to the Witch, considering how he reeked of her scent to Rem.

Turning away from the window, he looked back at Roswaal’s desk, where several books lay.

“I must return with Emilia, soooooo to keep up as your teacher, I have left you with several tomes. Do put them to gooooood use, Subaru!”

Subaru gritted his teeth. He’d been so eager to learn magic just days ago, but now… now he had half a mind to throw his master’s books into the fireplace and watch even a small piece of Roswaal’s collection burn.

He wasn’t sure what Roswaal’s endgame was, but the mage had assured him it would be best to stay behind for a few days. He’d even arranged for Subaru to lodge in Arlam, far enough from Emilia’s work as a candidate. Subaru suspected it was another way to keep him away from Felt.

At this point, Subaru couldn’t care less whether Roswaal came to retrieve him or not. All that mattered was breaking the contract. Everything else was just noise.

Slumping behind Roswaal’s desk, Subaru heard a knock at the door. He looked up to see Rem standing there.

“Um… Subaru… I know you’re not joining us… but I wanted to say…” Rem looked flustered, her eyes cast downward. “I wanted to say goodbye before we left. I’ll make sure the place in Arlam is comfortable for you. I asked Lord Roswaal, and he said I could use some of the furnishings from the Manor to make it a bit cozier.”

Subaru grumbled, still looking out the window. “I appreciate it,” he said flatly.

“Well… take care. There’s enough food in the pantry for a few days. I didn’t buy much, but… I feel bad you won’t have my cooking,” Rem’s voice grew quieter with each word.

“I can cook for myself, thank you,” Subaru replied, his tone sharper than he meant it to be. He turned to glare at her, but the look of hurt on her face made him feel like a jerk. He tried justifying it by reminding himself that she was one of Roswaal’s lapdogs… and she had killed Rom in another timeline. But that reasoning felt hollow, even to him.

Rem gave a small nod, her eyes downcast. “Okay… take care, Subaru.” She gave a slight bow before turning and leaving him alone to stew.

Once she was gone, Subaru slumped against the wall, rubbing his hands over his face. He wanted to scream, but all he could do was sit there in frustrated silence.

---

“No.”

Subaru stood cross-armed at the gate of the Astrea mansion, glaring at Carol.

“What do you mean no? I just want to talk,” Subaru’s frustration was evident. “I deserve to—”

“You deserve nothing, young man,” Carol cut him off sharply. “While your services in convincing the young Lady to take up her responsibilities are appreciated, you are, at present, a member of the Mathers Household and not a member of my Lady’s camp. Until that changes or my Lady personally summons you, I will not permit you entrance.”

“Then let me talk to Reinhard. He said—”

“Sir Reinhard is currently away on a mission for the Council and will not be returning until the week’s end. Until then, I have my duties, as I am sure you have yours,” Carol’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

“Your duties can go to—ouch, ouch, ouch!” Subaru’s retort was cut short as Carol’s iron grip latched onto his earlobe, squeezing hard.

“Seeing as you may, at some point, end up in Lady Felt’s service,” Carol tightened her grip, “I suggest you learn to mind your language. I have already noted a sharp increase in poor behavior since your reunion.”

Subaru staggered back when she finally released him, gritting his teeth. He rubbed his ear, wondering how Felt still had hers intact after spending a month under this woman’s rule.

“I will inform Lady Felt of your arrival. Should she wish to speak with you, I will send one of my granddaughters to summon you. Not a moment before.”

Without waiting for his response, Carol nodded to the lone guard at the gate, who promptly swung the heavy metal bars closed. The clang of the lock was a harsh finality.

Subaru clenched his fists, his anger boiling, before turning on his heel and storming off.

Subaru wasn’t sure how long he wandered, only that his feet were moving aimlessly until he found himself standing in a familiar alley near the artisan district. It was dim, the fading light of twilight casting long shadows against the cobblestone walls. He took a deep breath, the scent of soot and iron lingering in the air.

He needed to clear his head. Anger burned hot in his chest, a knot of frustration that refused to loosen. He needed a release, a distraction. He made up his mind: he would go to Conrad and beg the old man for some time in the forge. A few hours of hammering metal would do him good—let him vent his anger and maybe even work out his tangled thoughts.

Sighing, Subaru took half a step forward, but the sharp hiss of metal made him stop cold.

“Well, well, what do we have here? A little noble pup wandering down the wrong alley? Poor thing,” a voice sneered, dripping with mockery.

Subaru turned, already recognizing the trio before his eyes confirmed it. Rachins, Gaston, and Camberley stood blocking his path, their faces twisted in cruel amusement.

Great. Just what I needed. Subaru’s shoulders slumped, more annoyed than anything. “What do you jackasses want?” he grumbled.

“That voice…” Camberley’s eyes narrowed, trying to make out Subaru’s face in the twilight. Then his eyes went wide. “No way… You’re not… Subaru?”

“It’s me,” Subaru said flatly, crossing his arms. “What are you idiots doing here? No better way to spend an evening than trying to rob people?”

“The hell are you wearing?” Camberley demanded, eyes flicking over Subaru’s attire. “You look like some noble’s lapdog.”

“Yeah, since when did you get fancy clothes?” Gaston added, his arms crossed as he leaned against the alley wall. “Last we heard, you, the giant, and Felt all bit the dirt.”

Subaru’s eyes hardened. “Disappointed?”

“A little,” Rachins scoffed, resting his blade on his shoulder. “We figured you all died after that giant’s loot house was found bare as a bone.”

Subaru’s heart skipped a beat. Rom’s stash… empty? Of course… Reinhard. Must’ve cleared it out when he took Felt. Not that it matters now.

“Sorry to ruin your fantasy, but we’re all very much alive,” Subaru said, his voice flat. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got better things to do than entertain a pack of losers.”

He moved to push past them, but Rachins stepped in his path, twirling his knife lazily. “And where do you think you’re going, dressed all fancy? Must’ve found yourself a pretty sweet gig. Be a shame not to share the wealth.”

“Yeah,” Camberley sneered. “Wouldn’t want to be greedy, would ya?”

Subaru’s eyes darkened. “You three couldn’t take me on your best day. Now get lost before I make you.”

Gaston’s grin widened. “Maybe so, but you’re not carrying a blade today, are you?”

Subaru glanced at his hip, cursing inwardly. He’d stormed off to the Astrea Mansion without his sword, but even so, he wasn’t worried. Just more annoyed.

He closed his eyes, drawing on his mana, letting the familiar flow course through him. “I don’t have time for this. Shamak .”

Black smoke filled the alleyway, enveloping the space in impenetrable darkness. Subaru watched with grim amusement as the three stooges flailed about, their panicked shouts echoing off the stone walls.

“What… what just happened? I can’t see a damn thing!” Gaston’s voice was laced with fear as his hands groped wildly for the wall.

“Where are you? What happened?!” Rachins swung his blade in a blind arc, narrowly missing Camberley.

“G-Gaston? Rachins?! Where are you guys?!” Camberley’s voice was trembling, his usual bravado gone.

Subaru crossed his arms, considering whether to teach them a lesson. He was almost content to let them stew in the darkness, but then Rachins’ blade came dangerously close to gutting Gaston in his frantic swings.

Before he could think better of it, Subaru moved, his body a blur in the smoke. He planted his fist deep into Rachins’ gut, feeling the wind rush out of the thug as he doubled over, the knife slipping from his fingers and clattering against the cobblestones.

“Idiot,” Subaru muttered as he stepped over Rachins’ hunched form. The others were still stumbling around, helpless in the pitch-black smoke. He considered kicking each of them while they were down but decided they weren’t worth the effort.

The smoke was already starting to thin as he made his way out of the alley. He knew Shamak wouldn’t last much longer, but it had done its job. He didn’t bother looking back as he walked away, their confused shouts fading into the distance.

By the time Subaru reached the forge, the last of the daylight had vanished. He knocked on the heavy wooden door, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. The day had been a mess, and he was desperate for something—anything—to help him clear his head.

The door creaked open, and Conrad’s familiar face appeared, his brows knitting together as he looked Subaru up and down. “What are you doing here, boy?” the old blacksmith grumbled, his voice gruff.

“Trouble in paradise,” Subaru muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mind if I use the forge?”

“Use it? By the Dragon, what for?” Conrad’s eyes flicked over Subaru’s attire, noting the scuff marks and disheveled appearance. He let out a low grunt. “Nevermind. I won’t ask. Get in here before you freeze your ass off.”

Subaru stepped inside, feeling a wave of warmth from the forge’s still-glowing hearth. Conrad tossed him a spare apron without another word, already moving to secure the door.

“Anything in particular you’re lookin’ to make?” Conrad asked, his voice losing some of its edge as he watched Subaru tie on the apron with practiced ease.

“No,” Subaru shook his head. He looked at the tools and the glowing embers. It didn’t matter what he made. He just needed to work, to feel the resistance of iron beneath his hammer, to lose himself in the rhythm of the forge.

“Well, that damn new hand of mine broke his thumb this morning, and I’ve got an order of axe heads that ain’t gonna make themselves,” Conrad said, eyeing the half-finished pieces on the workbench.

“I’ll handle it,” Subaru said, already moving to work the bellows. The rush of air fed the flames, sparks leaping up as the coals roared to life. The heat was intense, washing over him and chasing away the chill that had settled in his bones.

He grabbed a billet of iron, his hands moving on instinct, muscles remembering the motions even after weeks away. The metal glowed red as he brought it to the anvil, his hammer rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Sparks flew with each strike, the clang of metal echoing through the forge.

Conrad watched for a moment, his gruff face softening. “Still got the touch, boy.”

Subaru didn’t respond. His mind was elsewhere, lost in the rhythm of the forge. Each strike of the hammer was a release, a way to vent his anger and frustration. Each spark that flew was another thought burned away, another worry cast aside.

Right now, this was all he needed. Just the heat, the iron, and the sound of his hammer shaping metal. The rest of the world could wait.

It was early morning when Subaru set down the last axe head, the clang of metal on the counter echoing softly in the quiet forge. Exhaustion weighed on him, his muscles aching from the rhythmic motion of hammering iron. His fine clothes, once pristine, were now soaked in sweat and smeared with soot, small holes burned through the fabric by stray embers.

Behind the counter, Conrad jolted awake, his head snapping up as he looked around in confusion. “The sun’s up already?” He stretched, bones cracking as he straightened himself. His eyes landed on Subaru, still standing by the forge, fatigue etched into his face. “And you’re still here?”

“I finished your order of axe heads,” Subaru said simply, gesturing to the neatly stacked pile of iron blades, each one gleaming faintly in the morning light. “Who is all of this for? I never asked.”

Conrad’s eyes widened in surprise. He shuffled over, picking up one of the axe heads, and turning it over in his hands as he examined the craftsmanship. “It’s for the Lady Crusch, but never mind all that. You’ll need to be paid for this,” he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“No, I refuse,” Subaru said firmly, his voice resolute. “I needed the forge more than the coin.”

The old blacksmith let out a bark of laughter, his chest shaking as he slapped his knee. “Maybe you oughta be paying me then,” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. His expression softened as he ran his fingers along the edge of the blade, admiring the clean, precise work. “Never told you when you were my shop hand, but you do finer work than I ever did at your age. Shame you’re giving up the hammer.”

Subaru looked at the pile of axe heads, their surfaces smooth and even, the edges honed to perfection. He couldn’t deny the sense of accomplishment that came with it, the satisfaction of creating something with his own hands. Yet, there was a hollowness in his chest, a reminder of the tangled mess his life had become. “Maybe one day,” he admitted, his voice low, “but right now, I don’t think this is my place.”

Conrad’s face hardened, his brows furrowing as he set the axe head back on the counter. “Nonsense, boy,” he grunted. “The forge will always be your place. I reckon you’ll learn that someday, but I doubt this old man’s the one to put you straight.”

A faint smile crossed Subaru’s lips, a flicker of warmth in an otherwise weary expression. “Well, if only you knew the half of it,” he murmured.

The old blacksmith let out another laugh, his voice echoing through the empty shop. “Maybe so. You’re a strange one, lad, that’s for sure.” He glanced back at the pile of finished axe heads, a look of pride crossing his face. “Best get some rest, though. If you ever feel the itch to swing a hammer again, I won’t say no to free labor.”

Subaru snorted, shaking his head. “I would, but my arm feels like it’s about to fall off. I need to sleep before I collapse right here.”

Conrad clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “Get some rest, boy. You’ve earned it.”

Nodding, Subaru turned toward the door, his legs heavy as he shuffled out of the forge. The early morning sun was just beginning to rise, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. For a moment, he stood there, his eyes fixed on the horizon, the warmth of the sunlight washing over him.

For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was quiet, the noise and chaos of the world around him fading into the background.

He took a deep breath, the scent of smoke and iron lingering in his lungs, and felt a flicker of peace.

Just for this moment, that was enough.

Chapter 15: ARC 2 - Chapter 5: Broken

ARC II

---

Chapter V:

Broken

---

After returning from Conrad’s forge, Subaru slept the entire day away, his body succumbing to the exhaustion of his emotional turmoil and physical exertion. When he finally woke, it was late afternoon, the sun dipping low, casting long shadows through the window. The rest of the day was spent in solitude, brooding as he picked at bread and cheese from the pantry, his thoughts spiraling in a dark cycle. He stubbornly refused to touch the magical tomes Roswaal had left behind, opting instead to bury himself in dusty law books in an attempt to distract himself from his growing frustration.

The next day was much of the same. He kept to himself, pacing the apartment aimlessly, half-hoping to hear a knock at the door. He held out hope that Flam or Grassis might come to summon him to the Astrea Mansion, that maybe Felt wanted to see him. But no summons came. Not even Rom showed up. Whatever relief he had found at Conrad’s forge was quickly overshadowed by the creeping sense of isolation, his mood sinking lower with each passing hour.

By the third day, a knock finally came at his door, but it wasn’t who he had been waiting for. Opening the door, Subaru was greeted by a man he didn’t recognize—a wiry figure with gray hair tucked under a green ushanka, a white feather poking out jauntily from the side. The man’s green cloak hung loosely, frayed at the edges from travel.

“Who are you?” Subaru asked, his voice flat, eyes narrowing as he looked the man over.

“Oh, um… I do hope this is the right place,” the man stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Are you Natsuki Subaru?”

Subaru crossed his arms. “I am. Did Carol send you?”

The man blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I don’t know a Carol, sir. I was hired by a maid named… Ram, I think? Yeah, that’s it, Ram! She hired me to take you to Arlam.”

Subaru’s shoulders sagged, his faint hope snuffed out. So, it was just Roswaal’s doing. Not even the decency to send one of the maids, just some random stranger. “Oh,” he muttered, his voice flat. “Fine. Let me guess, you’re just doing this out of the kindness of your heart?”

The man let out a nervous laugh. “Not exactly. I, uh… well, I’m actually doing this for free… sort of,” he admitted, scratching his cheek sheepishly. “See, I made a bad trade and ended up with way too much oil. So, I made a deal with Ram that I could sell my excess to the villagers if I gave you a lift.” He laughed awkwardly. “I suppose you don’t care about my oil problems, huh?”

Subaru’s eyebrow twitched. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, right!” The man looked flustered. “I never did introduce myself, did I? Sorry about that! I’m Otto—Otto Suwen, traveling merchant!”

“Didn’t know merchants doubled as stagecoach drivers,” Subaru muttered, glancing past him at the cart outside. A four-legged blue earth dragon with a white underbelly was hitched to it, lazily chewing on a tuft of grass. “Must really be desperate to unload that oil.”

Otto laughed nervously. “Yeah… you could say that. I can’t afford to let it go to waste, and well… a deal’s a deal. Anyway, are you ready to go?”

Subaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked back into the empty apartment. “Give me a minute. I need to grab my sword.”

“Of course, of course!” Otto nodded, his head bobbing with nervous energy. “Take your time!”

Subaru turned back into the apartment, his footsteps echoing off the wooden floor. He grabbed his sword, the familiar weight of it a cold comfort as he strapped it to his hip. Glancing back at Roswaal’s books on the desk, his jaw tightened. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to face those.

Locking the door behind him, Subaru descended the stairs, his mind swirling with resentment and frustration. If Roswaal thought he could cage him in Arlam, he was sorely mistaken. He had to find a way to break this contract, no matter what it took.

Outside, Otto was already at the cart, fidgeting as he adjusted the harness on his earth dragon. When he saw Subaru, he straightened up, offering an awkward smile. “All set?”

“Yeah,” Subaru grunted, climbing into the cart. “Let’s get this over with.”

Otto snapped the reins, and the earth dragon let out a huff, its muscular legs propelling the cart forward. As the city streets blurred past them, Subaru leaned back, his mind already plotting his next move.

Their cart rumbled along, the cobblestones of the capital giving way to dirt roads as the sprawling city faded behind them. Subaru watched in silence as the place he once called home grew smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing beyond the horizon. It was his first time watching the capital fade away—last time, he’d been unconscious for the journey.

Otto, on the other hand, was far from silent. The merchant chattered on endlessly, his words flowing as freely as the wind that rustled the leaves of the passing trees. He talked about his life as a traveling merchant, his oil troubles, and the mounting debts he desperately hoped to pay off. Otto painted a picture of misfortune, detailing bandit attacks, bad deals, and even spoilage of his merchandise. Yet, he boasted that his skills as a merchant outweighed his bad luck, otherwise, he’d have been ruined long ago.

Subaru listened half-heartedly, his gaze fixed on the rolling countryside as it stretched out before them. A patchwork of fields and forests swept by, dotted with occasional cottages and farmsteads. It was peaceful, almost deceptively so.

At some point, Subaru noticed something off about their route. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. “Why are we taking this road? It’ll take us a whole day longer,” he complained, annoyance evident in his voice.

“Oh, apologies!” Otto said quickly, his expression sheepish. “I should have mentioned it earlier—we’re taking the long way around. There have been sightings of the White Whale in the plains near the Flugel Tree.”

Subaru’s eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”

“Afraid not,” Otto shivered, his face paling. “I’m eager to sell this oil as soon as possible, but I’m not eager enough to risk running into that monster. They say the Whale’s mist can wipe out not just lives, but even the memory of its victims. Not a fate I’m keen on testing.”

Subaru felt a chill run down his spine. He’d heard the stories about the White Whale—a colossal Witchbeast responsible for the deaths of countless soldiers, including the predecessor of the current Sword Saint, Reinhard. The most terrifying aspect was the mist it emitted, capable of erasing not just people but even the memory of their existence.

“I can live with a detour,” Subaru muttered, a cold sweat forming on his brow. The thought of having his very existence erased was unsettling, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the White Whale’s power would override his Return by Death. He had no desire to find out.

“When was it first sighted?” Subaru asked, his voice low.

“Last night,” Otto replied, his shoulders visibly tensing at the memory. “A group of merchants traveling toward the capital were attacked. They made it out, but… they couldn’t say how many they lost. All they knew was they saw the Whale, and when they emerged from the mist, they had two more carriages than they remembered bringing with them.”

Subaru felt his stomach churn. “Two more carriages…?”

“Yeah,” Otto’s voice grew somber. “Those carriages were completely empty, not even a speck of dust. Like whoever was inside them never existed.”

The weight of those words hung heavily in the air, the ominous legend of the White Whale suddenly feeling far too real. Subaru leaned back, gripping the edge of the cart as his gaze turned toward the distant horizon.

Come nightfall, they stopped at a small village along the road. Subaru would have preferred the comfort of an inn, but Otto sheepishly admitted that he was flat broke, having spent all his coin on the surplus of oil he was now carting around. Subaru cursed under his breath, realizing he hadn’t thought to bring any coin either, having stormed out of the capital with only the clothes on his back and his sword at his hip.

Sleeping in the back of the cart wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It lacked the feather bedding he’d grown accustomed to at the manor, but Subaru wasn’t so far removed from his life in the slums that he’d complain about roughing it. The village seemed well-protected, and that was good enough for Otto. For Subaru, it would do.

The next morning, they shared a meager breakfast of stale bread. Otto chatted with a few fellow merchants who’d also stopped in the village for the night, discussing routes, market prices, and rumors of the White Whale. Soon enough, they were back on the road, the cart creaking under the weight of oil jars as they rumbled toward Arlam.

Subaru wasn’t looking forward to arriving in Arlam. He could only imagine what quarters Roswaal had prepared for him in the village. Not that it mattered—Subaru intended to spend every waking moment searching for a way to break his contract. His first stop would be the Forbidden Library. If he could find a book on contracts or curses, maybe he could find a loophole. The only challenge would be convincing Beatrice to tolerate his presence long enough to let him read.

After a bland lunch of cheese and another chunk of stale bread, Subaru announced that he was going to nap in the back of the cart. Propped up against a few jars of oil, he closed his eyes, letting the gentle rocking of the cart lull him into sleep. If he was lucky, he’d wake up just as they arrived in Arlam.

When Subaru awoke, it was dark. He blinked groggily, his back aching from the awkward sleeping position. Rubbing his eyes, he realized the cart was no longer moving. Everything was still—unnervingly still.

“I must have overslept,” Subaru muttered, yawning as he stretched his arms. “Otto, where did you park the cart? It’s pitch black o-out…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Otto was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Frufoo, the blue-scaled earth dragon that had been pulling the cart.

But Frufoo wasn’t missing. Subaru’s heart plummeted as his eyes fell upon the headless body of the earth dragon lying in the dirt beside the cart. Its head was only a few feet away, eyes glassy and lifeless, tongue lolling out grotesquely.

A chill ran down Subaru’s spine, his fingers instinctively tightening around the hilt of his sword. His eyes followed the trail of blood that led from the driver’s seat and disappeared into the underbrush. Swallowing hard, Subaru forced himself to move, his body feeling heavier than stone as he climbed out of the cart.

He nearly stumbled over Otto’s body.

The merchant lay sprawled on the ground, his green cloak soaked in blood. His chest was riddled with puncture wounds, and his right arm had been severed at the elbow, the limb lying a few feet away in the grass. A deep gash ran across his neck, nearly decapitating him. His eyes were frozen wide open, mouth agape in a silent scream.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and death. Subaru’s stomach churned, bile rising in his throat as he took a shaky step back. The blood was fresh—too fresh. Whatever, or whoever, had done this could still be nearby.

His grip tightened on his sword, knuckles white as he scanned the surrounding darkness, eyes darting from shadow to shadow. The forest was eerily silent. No rustling leaves, no chirping insects. Just the heavy, suffocating stillness.

How long had he been asleep? How had he slept through something like this? The scene was brutal, violent—there was no way it had been quick or quiet. Yet he hadn’t heard a thing. Not the earth dragon’s dying roar, not Otto’s screams… nothing.

A cold sweat ran down his back as he realized the implications. Was he spared because he’d been asleep? Or was it because they wanted him alive?

The forest remained silent, the shadows still. But Subaru could feel it—something was watching him.

Subaru stood motionless next to Otto's mutilated body, his legs frozen as if rooted to the earth. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears like a war drum. Time lost all meaning as he stood there, every nerve in his body screaming at him to run, to flee from this nightmare. But his body refused to obey, paralyzed by fear and disbelief.

Eventually, he forced himself to move. Staying here wouldn’t change anything, and if whatever had killed Otto was still lurking, it would have struck by now. He was being watched—he could feel eyes on him, cold and calculating like a predator sizing up prey. But nothing moved in the shadows, no sound broke the silence. Only the whisper of the wind through the trees.

With a deep breath, Subaru began to walk, sword in hand, every step deliberate and cautious. He didn’t bother hiding his footfalls. If he was being hunted, stealth wouldn’t save him.

The forest seemed to stretch endlessly, a labyrinth of shadows and rustling leaves. Every snap of a twig sent a jolt of adrenaline through him, his head snapping in the direction of the sound, expecting to see glowing eyes or gleaming blades. But each time, the darkness stared back, empty and silent.

He walked for hours, his muscles aching, his eyes burning from fatigue. Yet the feeling of being watched never faded. It clung to him, a constant pressure on the back of his neck, making his skin crawl. He was certain his pursuer was just out of sight, following him through the trees. Waiting.

The first light of dawn finally peeked over the horizon as he reached Arlam. Relief washed over him, but it was fleeting, replaced by a cold, sinking feeling as his eyes fell on the plumes of smoke curling into the early morning sky.

No. No, no, no.

Subaru broke into a run, his exhaustion forgotten as he rushed into the village. He nearly tripped over the first body—an elderly man lying face down in the dirt, his back split open by a deep, jagged wound. Flies buzzed around the corpse, drawn to the fresh blood soaking into the ground.

Subaru gagged but forced himself to move on. The village was a graveyard. Bodies were scattered across the dirt roads, men and women cut down where they stood, eyes wide in terror. Some lay with weapons in hand, evidence of a futile last stand.

The buildings were charred husks, embers still crackling as smoke rose from the smoldering ruins. The air was heavy with the stench of burning wood and flesh. Subaru’s stomach churned, bile rising as he stumbled past the blackened remains of a woman clutching a child to her chest, their bodies fused together by the flames.

He stopped when he saw the tiny, broken form lying by a collapsed fence. A child—no more than eight or nine. His hair was scorched, his face twisted in pain, eyes wide and staring. Subaru’s vision blurred, the world spinning as his knees gave out. He fell to the dirt, retching until his stomach was empty, tears streaming down his face.

Why…? Why would someone do this? Who could be this cruel?

The question burned in his mind, but no answer came. Only the stench of death and the sound of his own ragged breathing.

He forced himself to look away from the child’s body, his eyes traveling up the hill to the Mathers estate. Black smoke billowed from the manor, curling ominously into the sky. Subaru’s blood ran cold.

No…

His legs were numb, his body moving on autopilot as he began the climb up the hill. The entire village was dead, wiped out in one night. Whoever did this… whoever butchered Otto… they were at the manor. They had to be.

His hands trembled as he gripped his sword tighter. Whatever awaited him at the top of that hill, he had to face it. He had to know the truth, no matter how horrific.

Steeling himself, Subaru pushed onward, his feet stumbling over the uneven path, eyes locked on the smoke rising above the Mathers estate. Whatever nightmare awaited him there, he would face it. Even if it killed him.

As Subaru approached the manor, the scene grew grimmer with every step. Bodies lay scattered along the path—villagers who had tried to flee, their faces frozen in terror. Their hands were outstretched toward the manor gates, fingers curled in desperation as if they’d been reaching for salvation that never came.

But it wasn’t just the villagers. Amidst the fallen were others clad in black robes, their faces hidden beneath hoods. Subaru halted at the sight of the first one, his heart lurching as he cautiously nudged the body over with his foot. The hood fell away, revealing a face twisted in an eerie smile, eyes vacant and staring into nothingness. A cold chill ran down his spine as he recognized the pale, emaciated features from stories he’d heard whispered in fear.

A Witch Cultist.

Subaru’s blood ran cold. The Witch’s Cult had attacked Arlam—and the Mathers Manor. But why? Was it because of Emilia? Because she looked like the Witch of Envy? Or was this somehow connected to Roswaal’s machinations? His mind spun with questions, but no answers came. Only dread.

His heart pounded as he quickened his pace, breaking into a sprint. The closer he got, the more corpses he found. It was as if the earth itself bore witness to the brutality of the battle that had taken place. Trees were splintered, their branches scorched and blackened. The ground was torn asunder, gouges and craters marking the struggle that had unfolded here.

Then he reached the courtyard—and his heart stopped.

The earth was soaked in blood, and the once beautiful gardens were now a field of carnage. Bodies were strewn across the courtyard, villagers and cultists alike, their limbs tangled, their faces frozen in terror or rage. In the center of it all lay a familiar morning star, its spikes caked with blood.

A few feet away, slumped against the steps of the manor, was Rem.

Subaru’s breath caught in his throat as he approached, his grip tightening around his sword until his knuckles turned white. His legs felt like lead as he crossed the blood-soaked courtyard, every step echoing in his ears.

Rem’s face was slack, her eyes glazed over, staring at nothing. Her neck was grotesquely twisted, her head lolling at an unnatural angle. Her skin was pale, her uniform drenched in blood. Subaru’s fingers trembled as he reached out to touch her but stopped short, his hand hovering just above her cold cheek.

His knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, his sword slipping from his fingers. He wanted to scream, to cry, but no sound came. His chest felt hollow. His vision blurred as he slowly reached out and gently closed her eyelids.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

His body trembled as he forced himself to his feet, his limbs heavy, his heart shattered. Turning away from Rem, he fixed his gaze on the grand doors of the manor, now broken and splintered, hanging limply from twisted hinges. They were shattered inward, leading into the foyer. Whatever had done this was powerful, brutal, and merciless.

Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, Subaru stepped inside, his footfalls echoing through the empty halls. The silence was suffocating, the air cold and heavy. The walls were scarred with deep gouges, the floor was stained with blood. It was a slaughterhouse.

He found more bodies as he walked the halls, black-robed cultists lying twisted and broken, their faces frozen in grotesque smiles. Whoever had fought them had put up a fierce resistance. But where were the others? Where was Emilia?

Then he saw them.

Five cultists lay crumpled outside a shattered door. Their bodies were charred, limbs twisted at odd angles. Subaru’s heart sank as he stepped over them, his eyes falling on the scene within the room.

Ram lay in a corner, her body covered in deep slashes, her pink hair matted with blood. In her arms, she cradled a tiny, lifeless body—Petra. The child’s face was buried against Ram’s chest, her arms wrapped tightly around the maid as if seeking protection even in death. A knife was still lodged in Petra’s back, the blade buried to the hilt.

Subaru’s knees gave out, his body hitting the floor as he stared at the horrific scene. His mind went blank, a cold numbness spreading through him. He wanted to scream, to rage, to tear apart whoever had done this—but no sound came. He was hollow, empty, broken.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at the lifeless forms. His vision blurred, his heart heavy. He felt like he was drowning, sinking deeper and deeper into despair.

Finally, he tore his eyes away, his body moving on autopilot as he stumbled through the halls. His sword hung limply at his side, forgotten. His steps were slow, unsteady, his body numb. He was lost, drifting through a nightmare that wouldn’t end.

The air grew colder as he approached Roswaal’s study. Frost lined the stone walls, the temperature dropping with each step. His breath hung in the air, crystallizing in the frigid air.

As Subaru approached, he noticed the bookshelf was slightly ajar. A cold draft seeped through the crack, sending a shiver down his spine. Pushing it open, he found a stone corridor beyond, coated in thick layers of frost. The walls sparkled with ice, and the air was frigid, biting into his skin.

His breath hitched as he stepped inside. Frozen solid along the hallway were figures—black-robed cultists, their faces contorted in expressions of horror, their bodies encased in glistening ice. Their limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, mouths agape in silent screams.

Subaru’s blood ran cold. Puck…

There was no mistaking it. This was the work of the Great Spirit. As he continued down the corridor, the temperature plummeted. Frost grew thicker on the walls, ice creeping along the floor, crackling underfoot. Every step felt heavier, his legs growing numb.

At the end of the hall was a door, its handle gleaming with frost. The very air around it shimmered with mana, potent and chilling. Subaru hesitated, his hand hovering just above the handle. The cold radiated from it, seeping into his bones.

His fingers trembled as he reached out, but he stopped short, instinctively stepping back. The mana in the air was overwhelming, suffocating. His lungs burned with every breath, the air freezing as he inhaled.

“Puck… what—” Subaru’s voice faltered, the words freezing on his tongue. The cold was unbearable. His chest tightened, his breath crystallizing before his eyes.

Panic surged through him as he tried to move, but his legs wouldn’t obey. He looked down in horror. Ice had crawled up his body, encasing his legs, locking him in place. His heart raced, his blood turning to ice in his veins.

He reached for mana, desperate to use Shamak to escape, but his hands were already frozen, his fingers numb and unresponsive. The ice crept up his body, covering his torso, his arms, his neck.

His vision blurred, the world growing hazy as his body became a prison of ice. His heartbeat slowed, his mind slipping into darkness. Cold. Everything was so cold…

And then—

“Ahhhh!” Subaru jolted awake, his body lurching forward as he crashed back into reality. The book in his hands tumbled to the floor, the pages fluttering as it landed with a dull thud.

His heart was racing, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. Blinking rapidly, Subaru’s head spun, his vision swimming. He looked around wildly, his eyes darting to every corner of the room.

He was in Roswaal’s study, the familiar scent of parchment and old leather grounding him. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the desk. Outside, the capital bustled with life, carts rolling down the street, merchants calling out their wares.

His body trembled, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. He touched his face, his chest, his legs—everything was warm, alive. He was alive.

His gaze fell to the book on the floor. It was a law book, one of the many volumes Roswaal had left for him to study. His hands were shaking as he picked it up, his fingers brushing against the worn leather cover.

His mind raced, the memories flooding back in vivid detail. The bodies in Arlam, Rem’s lifeless form, the frost-covered corridor… Puck.

“I… I died?” His voice was hoarse, trembling as he spoke the words aloud. His heart thudded painfully in his chest.

It had felt so real. The terror, the cold, the pain—it had all been real. But he was here, back in Roswaal’s study, alive. It was another loop. He’d returned by death.

A wave of relief crashed over him, his knees going weak as he stumbled back into the chair. His body sagged, his muscles trembling. It was over. That horrific world was gone.

But the images wouldn’t leave him. The lifeless eyes, the blood-soaked courtyard, the twisted, frozen bodies. Rem… Ram… Petra…

He shuddered, his body wracked with chills. It wasn’t over. Not until he changed it. Not until he saved them.

Subaru’s fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He had another chance. He wouldn’t let that nightmare become reality. Not again.

Looking out the window, Subaru saw the capital bustling with life. The sun was high in the sky, mid-afternoon. Otto would arrive tomorrow to take him to Arlam.

How to prevent that future from happening hit Subaru like a hammer.

First, he needed to establish a timeline for when the Cultists attacked Arlam. It had to be within the next three days, likely around the same time Otto was killed on the road. That left him with almost no time. If he left immediately, he might just make it before the attack. Taking the detour to the village would take two full days, but going past the Flugel Tree would save him a day.

But that meant finding an Earth Dragon, fast. Even if he made it there in time, what could he possibly do alone against the Cultists? Their numbers were overwhelming. His minor magical abilities were nothing compared to the sheer force they had brought to bear. If Emilia and the maids hadn’t been enough, what chance did he stand?

If only Reinhard were here. Someone like him could wipe out the Cultists effortlessly... but Carol had said he was on a mission for the council. 

No way I could track him down in time, Subaru thought bitterly.

He paced the room, his mind racing. I need support, someone to balance the scales… Felt maybe? But what could she do? Besides, it’s not like she’s speaking to me right now.

He felt trapped. A wave of frustration surged through him, and before he could stop himself, his fist drove into the wall, leaving a dent. “I need more information…”

His eyes settled on Roswaal’s desk. Three books lay stacked, the ones his master had left behind for him. He hesitated, then walked over and flipped open the first one.

Enchanting Runes and Their Many Applications, Volume I.

Subaru’s eyes scanned the pages, absorbing the detailed diagrams of runes and their uses. Weapons, armor, and even everyday objects could be enhanced through enchantments. The book made it clear that creating enchanted items was incredibly complex and dangerous, which explained why they were so rare and often underwhelming in power.

He glanced at the other two volumes. Could this work? Could enchanted weapons make a difference? He might be able to read through the three volumes by the time Otto arrived, but that was just the beginning. He’d still need the tools, practice applying his mana to the runes, and then actually make something.

A sickening thought crossed his mind.

I could... Subaru hesitated to finish the thought. End... myself after reading the texts.

The idea made him want to vomit, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. The very thought of ending his life felt wrong. He wasn’t even sure of the full extent of Return by Death. For all he knew, his next life could be his last, or it could involve an infinite number of resets. Taking his own life? That was a gamble, and, as far as he was concerned, a last resort.

Snapping the book shut, Subaru turned his back and stormed out of the study.

---

Subaru stood on the road, staring at the Astrea manor. While he didn’t think Felt could help him, he suspected someone inside might be able to. More than that, he was at a loss. If there was anyone he needed to talk to right now... it was Rom.

I’m not about to ask Carol for a hall pass, Subaru thought, glancing at the window where he remembered Felt’s room being.

Sighing, he drew on his mana and leaped over the iron fences when he was sure no one was watching. Landing on the soft grass of the garden, he used his mana to leap up to the third-floor window sill. Tugging at the window, he found it latched shut. Frowning, Subaru wished he’d taken the time to learn at least a few of Felt’s burglary tricks.

Subtlety could wait for later. Subaru pulled his fist back to break the glass, but just before he swung, the curtains were pulled back, and the window flung open.

Subaru nearly lost his grip on the ledge when a hand reached out and grabbed him roughly by the collar.

“What in the name of the Dragon are you doing at my window!?” Felt shouted.

“You scared me half to death,” Subaru grumbled. “Can you let me in before Carol sees me? I’d like to keep my ear where it is.”

Felt glared at him, but after a moment, she yanked him inside, muttering under her breath, “You’re a moron, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Subaru said as he pushed himself to his feet.

“You’re lucky I was dressed. Otherwise, I’d be calling Carol, and she’d pull more than just your ear off,” Felt muttered. “Now, why are you here?”

“Complicated,” Subaru sighed.

“Spying for that Roswaal?” Felt glared at him.

“Hell no,” Subaru said quickly. “Why would I spy for him?!”

“Reinhard told me that it was possible Roswaal could make you tell him things while you’re under a contract—or make you do things,” Felt said, placing her hands on her hips. “I didn’t think it was that serious until Reinhard got that clown to tell him more about the type of contract you signed!”

Subaru frowned. He wasn’t aware the contract was that powerful. It made him question whether Roswaal had something like that against him this whole time. If he did, Subaru had been completely unaware of it.

“I’m not spying, but I do need help,” Subaru said firmly.

“With?” Felt huffed.

“Well, for starters, the Witch Cult is about to murder everyone in Arlam, including Roswaal’s entire staff,” Subaru said, his voice steady.

Felt blinked. “Come again?”

“The Cultists are going to attack Arlam in two... maybe three days. If something isn’t done, the entire village will be wiped out,” Subaru said firmly.

Felt opened her mouth and shut it looking him over a few times. “Stay her,” she said before storming off.

A few minutes later, she came sweeping back into the room, this time with Rom behind her. “Tell him what you told me,” Felt said. 

Subaru quickly recapped everything he knew up to that point as Rom scratched his chin in thought after Subaru had finished. 

“Son, how exactly did you come across this information?” Rom asked. 

Subaru paused, How can I explain that? Last time I tried to tell Rom about Return by Death I could have sworn the Witch of Envy was about to crush my heart. 

Subaru wracked his brain. “I… can’t explain it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Felt crossed her arms. 

Subaru looked away, “Both…” 

“Is it Roswaal?” Rom probed.

“No, that has nothing to do with that bastard,” Subaru insisted, “It’s… something else. Just trust me when I say the information is good.”

Felt was about to answer when Rom interjected, “I want to believe you son, but with that contract… we need to know.”

Subaru opened his mouth. He needed support, he needed it. Stealing his nerves he opened his mouth. 

“I can—” Subaru felt the sickening feeling of a hand caressing his heart. The threat lingered over him, fear gripped him. It was like ice had filled his veins, but he had to… if she killed him so be it, “I-I…” The words were hard to find, his breath increased, his heart raced, “I can return by death!”

Subaru felt the hand vanish from his heart, as he sucked in a deep breath. Panting, he felt relief as he realized he was still alive. 

It’s possible… I can tell others, now with Felt and Rom —

Looking up, he saw Felt laying on her bed, as Rom tilted forward and fell face-first onto the floor with a thud. 

“Felt! Rom!” Subaru rushed towards the giant stopping just short as he saw the giant’s eyes were glazed over as a trickle of blood fell from his mouth. 

Subaru felt his blood run cold. Shaking his head, he quickly rushed to Felt’s side and saw her lifeless eyes looking up at him. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

Subaru lifted her and shook her shoulders, “Felt! No, wake up!” 

I… I killed them, Subaru thought as he felt tears start to come on. 

“Felt… wake up, please,” he croaked, “I…”

Subaru just stared down at her. A moment later the door to her room burst open. Subaru didn’t even look to see who had come in, his ears were ringing. All he could do was look down at Felt’s lifeless body. 

I’m in hell…

A hand flew into his neck knocking him unconscious.  

---

Subaru woke in darkness. Lifting his head, he looked around, trying to move, but something heavy clamped around his ankle. Looking down, he could barely make out a thick shackle around his foot.

I killed them... he thought again, slumping against the wall.

He stayed there, just staring at the ground.

I killed them. 

Hours passed.

I killed them.

A guard came by with food.

I killed them.

A day passed.

I killed them.

Another...

I killed them.

Another...

I killed them.

Another...

I killed them.

Another...

I killed them.

Another...

I—

“Subaru.”

Lifting his head, Subaru felt his dry lips. He’d just sat there, unmoving for… he wasn’t sure how long. Standing over him was Reinhard, dressed in his uniform, a frown on his lips as he gazed down at Subaru. That kind of look should have made him sick with fear, but Subaru felt nothing.

He just lowered his head, glaring at the cold stone floor of the cell.

“What happened to Felt?” Reinhard demanded.

“I… killed them,” Subaru said, his voice hoarse. He hadn’t drunk a drop of water since he’d been dragged down here.

I just want to die… I need to die.

Reinhard knelt. “You killed them? Why?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” Subaru said, the image of his family dead before him. It didn’t seem real.

“Why then?” Reinhard pressed. “Speak.”

Subaru opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come. By now, everyone in this world he cared about would be dead... everyone.

“Kill me...” Subaru whispered. “Please.”

“I won’t be your executioner,” Reinhard said, standing up. “But I need to know, what happened, Subaru?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Subaru replied weakly. “None of this matters.”

“Tell that to Felt,” Reinhard said, looking at him for a moment longer. “We’ll try this again later.”

Subaru watched him go, the torchlight fading as he was left in the darkness once more. Staring at the cold stone floor, Subaru reached for his mana.

I need to die.

With all his strength, Subaru slammed his head against the stone floor. His head split open.

Die!

Once more. Blood streamed down his face, warm and hot.

Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!

Again, his head swam.

Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!

Once more, and then...

Die.

Chapter 16: ARC 2 - Chapter 6: Despair

ARC II

---

Chapter VI:

Despair

---

Subaru was broken.

He sat, just staring at Roswaal’s desk for hours, his mind racing.

I killed… I killed… I killed…

Subaru couldn’t finish the thought. All he could see were Felt and Rom’s dead bodies. He could see her glazed-over eyes staring back at him. He tried to tell himself it hadn’t happened, that it was just another loop, that it wasn’t real.

But it had happened… at least, for him.

Subaru didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually, as he came to his senses, there was a knock at the door. Getting up, he forced himself to lumber down the stairs and open the door. Otto stood there, looking back at him.

“Oh, hello,” Otto chuckled nervously. “I do hope this is the right place. Are you Natsuki Subaru?”

Subaru just stared at him, his expression vacant. Otto’s words didn’t quite register. Subaru simply nodded and pushed past him, heading toward the cart.

“Oh, um… I’m your transport to Arlam, you see… oh,” Otto blinked as Subaru crawled into the back of his cart and stared out the rear.

“Well... off we go?” Otto scratched the back of his head, climbed onto the bench of the cart, and, with an odd glance at Subaru, flicked Frufoo’s reins as they pulled away.

Subaru just looked out of the back of the cart, ignoring Otto’s attempts at conversation. He couldn’t stop picturing Felt’s body, her eyes… her lifeless stare.

I killed… I killed… I killed them.

Subaru’s head lifted from a slumber he didn’t remember falling into. It was dark outside.

“We’ll sleep here tonight; this village is safe,” Otto stretched. “You should eat, Mr. Natsuki. I haven’t seen you eat a bite yet.”

Subaru looked around, then shook his head. “We need to keep moving.”

“What? Whatever for?” Otto arched an eyebrow. “I get that you don’t seem to be doing well. You’ve been quiet the whole ride, but rest and food will do everyone some good—”

“We need to keep moving!” Subaru snapped.

Otto seemed a little shaken, and Subaru forced himself to take a deep breath. “I’ll make sure you’re paid double,” he said quietly.

“It’s not a question of money, Frufoo is—”

“Triple,” Subaru interrupted, his voice low. “Or I’ll make the same offer to the next merchant I see.”

Otto blinked, then looked at his Earth Dragon and sighed. “And I was ready to sleep... right, just let Frufoo rest for an hour, get some feed and water.”

Subaru grunted in reply, staring out at the village as another merchant rolled in. He couldn’t have cared less about what was going on around him.

What’s my plan? Do I even have one?

Felt’s eyes flashed in his mind again. Subaru closed his eyes and hugged his knees to his chest.

I killed…

Stop it… just stop it!

I killed… I killed… I killed…

Stop!!!

I killed… I killed… I killed... I killed… I killed…

“Stop it!” he shouted before he even realized it.

“M-Mr. Natsuki?”

Subaru opened his eyes and looked up at Otto. It was early mid-afternoon, and the merchant was staring at him with fear and concern on his face.

“S-Sorry,” Subaru stammered, rubbing his eyes. He had fallen asleep again. Pushing himself up, Subaru looked past Otto, noticing several villagers looking at him with concerned expressions.

Clambering out of the back of the cart, Subaru looked around. Even though he had been drifting in and out of sleep for the past few days, he still felt exhausted. His stomach was gnawing at him. He hadn’t eaten anything this loop, and hunger bit at him.

“Subaru,” the voice of Petra cut through the haze.

Looking down, Subaru saw her red bow sitting atop her head. A lump formed in his throat. The last time he had seen her, she’d been clutched to Ram’s dead body, but now she was standing in front of him, alive and well… for now.

The Cultists are coming…

“Everyone… go to the manor…” Subaru said weakly.

“The manor? What for?” one of the older men, who had been gawking at him, asked.

“Roswaal sent me a letter,” Subaru lied. “The Witch Cult was seen headed this way.”

If I tell them the truth… they’d all die… just like…

“Please…” Subaru said quietly.

“T-The Witch Cult!” Otto stammered. “Why didn’t you say anything on the road?”

“You might not have taken me to Arlam if I did,” Subaru replied, his gaze vacant.

“Why did he send you a letter?” A villager asked, “Why not one of his other servants, or the half-elf?”

“Do you need me to elaborate, or will you all go to the manor!” Subaru shouted, “I just know they’re coming, you’re welcome to stay here and wait for them to arrive!”

There was a muttering among the villagers, but they all began to run off to warn the rest of the village. Petra seemed shaken by the news but declared she was off to get her friends.

“I-I think I’m going to get out of here before they arrive,” Otto stammered. 

“You’ll die if you run,” Subaru said but turned and started to lumber up the road for the manor himself. It wouldn't matter if Otto lived or died. 

I killed them… and I’m going to die here again… aren’t I?

“Subaru? What’s going on?”

Rem was standing in front of him… had he walked all that way? He didn’t remember, it was all so… fuzzy. Pointless even. 

I killed…

Stop being such a bitch!

I killed them…

“Where’s Roswaal?” Subaru asked weakly. 

“Master Roswaal? He left on important business the morning we got back. That was a day ago,” Rem looked him over. “You don’t look well. Let me get Lady Emilia.”

Roswaal wasn’t here to protect them… 

He killed them… just like… I…

Stop it!

“Subaru! You look awful… are those the villagers?” Emilia looked past him as the village of Arlam was marching up the courtyard. 

“Oh… yeah,” Subaru looked over his shoulder, “The Witch Cult is coming…”

Emilia blinked, “What?”

“The Witch Cult, Roswaal sent me a letter… I think I had it somewhere,” Subaru lied.

“We have to do something then,” Emilia said firmly, “Rem, go get your sister, Subaru…”

She looked him over, but Subaru was just looking at the floor, his eyes glazed over.

There’s nothing I can do…

Stop it! Stop being a coward! You’re better than this!

There was a commotion around Subaru, but it was all just noise. Rem was leading him into the Manor.

Nothing I can do… Why care? I’m trapped, I'm killed… Rom… Felt… I’m just going to watch everyone here die too, aren’t I?

STOP IT!

“Subaru…”

What do I care?

STOP!

“Subaru!”

Everyone... will die... right?

GET IT TOGETHER!

Subaru felt the sharp smack as his eyes blinked open. Ram was standing over him, gripping his shoulders.

“Snap out of it, you useless excuse for an apprentice!” Ram scolded. Subaru looked at her uniform, noting the blood staining it.

“It’s begun?” he asked.

“You can fight, so get off your useless self and move before—”

The window of the room shattered as a black-cloaked figure burst through, daggers in hand. Ram cursed and turned. “ Fura! ”

Blades of wind flashed from her hand, slashing the cultist across the chest as they slumped to the floor, bloodied.

Subaru was vaguely aware of the loud commotion in the halls, the sound of fighting and struggles happening all around him.

There’s nothing I can do…

But you can try.

Subaru pushed Ram aside as a blade flashed toward him. “ Minya. ”

A purple crystal flew from his hand, striking the cultist in the forehead as they crumpled to the ground. The cultist’s head shattered against the floor with a sickening crack as their body hit the ground.

Nothing… but I must try.

“Oh? Oh, oh, oh!!! What is this? Oh, how amazing! Amazing, yes, yes, yes!” A voice echoed from the hallway.

Subaru turned to see a man step through the threshold, an unnatural smirk twisting across his sickly green face. His dark green hair, resembling moss, contrasted sharply with his pale complexion. The sight of him made Subaru’s skin crawl.

“Who are you? I wonder, oh yes. Are you a follower of the Gospel? You seem so slothful, yes, yes! All these poor souls dying, and yet here you are, sitting idly. How slothful indeed!” The man’s smirk stretched wider, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. “Tell me, are you Pride? Or something else entirely?”

Subaru took half a step back, his blood running cold. “Who are you?” He reached for a blade that wasn’t at his side.

“Oh, where are my manners, how forgetful of me!” The man bowed unnervingly deep. “I am the Sin Archbishop representing Sloth, Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti.”

Subaru’s heart skipped a beat. He had heard of the Archbishops before—those who encountered them rarely lived to tell the tale. Before Petelgeuse could speak again, Subaru sprang into action. “Minya!”

Subaru watched in horror as a black, oily hand smacked the purple crystal out of the air. To his shock, more of the black, writhing hands emerged from the smirking Archbishop’s back.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! This won’t do, just won’t do!” Petelgeuse laughed manically.

“Ram, kill him!” Subaru pleaded as he launched another two crystals.

“Fura!” Ram shouted as several blades of wind cut toward the Archbishop’s head.

“How foolish, how you struggle, struggle, struggle!” Petelgeuse taunted, the hands blocking the attacks effortlessly. In the blink of an eye, the black limbs shot forward, lunging toward Subaru.

Eyes wide, he leapt back, but Ram seemed oblivious to the oncoming danger. “Ram, move!” Subaru yelled, but the hands coiled around her like serpents.

Cursing, Subaru fired more crystals at the hands already beginning to constrict around her. Ram thrashed as her breath grew ragged.

The crystals struck the limbs, causing them to recoil. Ram fell to the ground, gasping for air.

“You… you… you can see?!” Petelgeuse stammered, eyes wide with disbelief. “No, no, no! This is not good, not good, not good, not good, not good, not good! This is unheard of, preposterous, my—my—my brain t-teeeeeeeeeeeeeermbles!”

To Subaru’s shock, Petelgeuse bit into his fingers, blood pouring down his hands and pooling onto the floor.

“Die,” Petelgeuse said darkly.

At his words, more hands shot out, aiming for Subaru, and others reached for Ram. Subaru barely managed to slip past the first few, but he was too slow, and Petelgeuse was too close. Several hands grabbed his ankles and whipped him onto the floor, then the ceiling with sickening force. Subaru felt his bones crack, the air leaving his lungs as pain shot through him. He was tossed around like a ragdoll before being slammed against the far wall.

Coughing up blood, Subaru’s eyes flickered open, his vision blurry as he watched in horror. The arms twisted and contorted Ram’s pink-haired body at unnatural angles. The sound of snapping bones and broken limbs was nauseating.

“L-let her go,” Subaru said weakly. As he tried to get up, his legs refused to obey. Looking down in horror, he saw his feet had been twisted around at cruel angles. The pain registered only then.

Subaru gasped for breath, hyperventilating, as his vision blurred. His heart sank as he saw Ram’s lifeless body being tossed aside, landing just a few feet from him.

“Let me consult the book, yes, yes, yes, yes!” Petelgeuse pulled a black tome from his robes and began to flick through the pages with maddening glee, a twisted smile on his lips. “Yes, slothful one, you are—lying down, your friends dying, how slothful, yes, yes!”

Slapping the book shut, Petelgeuse smirked. “You are not in the pages of the holy text. Not a problem, you are just another corpse, another lost soul. Not Pride, just forever… slothful. How wonderful for you! Forever loved… forever… loved.”

“You’re insane,” Subaru managed to croak, his hand trembling as he lifted it. “El Minya.”

At his words, Subaru’s mana reserves crashed, and four dozen purple crystals shot forth. He hoped he could kill, or at the very least seriously injure the Sin Archbishop. With heavy eyes, he watched helplessly as the crystals were smacked aside, one by one, turning the room into a kaleidoscope of purple light.

“I was mistaken. You must be Pride!” Petelgeuse smirked. “Now, sleep, sleep, sleep, and be more… slothful!”

Exhaustion swept over Subaru like a wave. He could feel the black, oily hands tearing him apart, his body twisting as the pain mounted, then— snap.

---

“Ahhhh!” Subaru shouted as he found himself back in Roswaal’s office.

I… how… how can I stop that?!

Subaru rested his head against the desk, his mind racing.

I can’t… I’m not strong enough. I can’t beat that! I didn’t even scratch him, even when they knew it was coming… everyone still… still…

Subaru retched on the floor, panting, as waves of sickness and despair washed over him. He was hyperventilating, struggling to hold himself together.

What… what can I do?!

Shaking his head, he smacked himself hard. “Get a grip, Natsuki Subaru!” he scolded, trying to force himself to focus. “They’ll keep dying if you act like a bitch!”

Standing up, Subaru paced the room. “I can’t ask Felt… I just… can’t.” He could still see her lifeless body when he closed his eyes.

I…

No, enough of that!

“Going to the village is useless. I could try and fight the cultists as I am. Maybe, with everyone, we could stop them... but the Archbishop? No, we’d get slaughtered.” Subaru wracked his brain, his gaze drifting back to the books on Roswaal’s desk. Biting his lip, Subaru cursed.

“I need more firepower,” he muttered, opening the pages.

Subaru read and read until it was late in the evening. By the time he finished, his eyes were heavy. The books had been informative, bluntly so. The contents were meant for skilled mages, of which Subaru did not consider himself one. But it was all he had to work with.

Trial and error, Subaru told himself, rubbing his eyes. I need to try… and try… and try… until I get it right.

Tucking the books into a leather satchel along with all the necessary materials gathered from Roswaal’s store, Subaru stepped out into the night. The city was quiet, the streets cloaked in darkness, save for the occasional flicker of a lantern. He’d spent the entire day poring over the material, and one read-through wasn’t nearly enough. He knew that. The sickening weight of what he had to do pressed against the back of his mind.

Maybe I’ll get lucky this time, he lied to himself.

The thought didn’t comfort him.

Crossing the city with purpose, Subaru arrived at Conrad’s forge. The building stood in silence, abandoned for the night. He didn’t have the time— or patience —to fumble with the lock. A purple crystal later and a swift kick sent the door creaking open.

Inside, the forge still smoldered, fresh coals glowing beneath a bed of ash. Soon, they would be hot enough. Subaru propped open the book, skimming the instructions once more.

Mana… it needs mana. And the inscriptions—carve them into the billet.

He found Conrad’s tools, running his fingers over their worn edges. He’d always been good at engraving. But carving magic runes into an unfinished piece? It felt… wrong. Yet, the book was clear—this was the process.

Taking a steady breath, he muttered the chant under his breath, feeling his mana pull from within as he worked. His hands were steady, his strokes precise. But then—

Boom.

A shockwave ripped through the forge. Heat exploded outward, a wall of fire engulfing the room in an instant. Subaru barely had time to scream before the searing agony consumed him. His flesh burned, his vision blurred, and his thoughts scattered into nothing but pain.

And then—

Blink.

He was back. Roswaal’s office. The books. The desk. His hands—unburned. His breath came in ragged gasps as he clutched his chest.

Subaru cursed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, steadied himself and reached for the books again.

He returned to the forge.

Worked the forge.

Inscribed the billet.

Chanted.

Placed it in the fire.

Boom—

Woke up in Roswaal’s office.

Read.

Returned.

Worked.

Boom—

Woke up.

Read.

Returned.

Worked.

Boom—

Again.

And again.

And again.

Boom—Boom—Boom—Boom—Boom—Boom—Boom—

Subaru gritted his teeth.

Again.

---

Subaru panted, staring down at the finished piece as it glowed faintly in the dim orange light of the forge. The moment he had tempered the blade, he had braced himself for the inevitable explosion—for the world to be torn away in fire and agony once more. But it never came.

He had lost count of how many times he’d died.

At some point, he had stopped trying. Stopped keeping track. If he thought too hard about it, if he let the weight of it settle in, he feared he might crumble into dust.

Holding up the sword, he examined the single rune etched into its surface. Fire. He had attempted others—tried engraving multiple at once—but after a series of catastrophic failures, he had decided to focus on mastering a single element.

If only I retained muscle memory, this would’ve been over ages ago.

Each time he tried, it was like fumbling in the dark. His mind remembered everything—the books, the techniques, the precise stroke of each rune—but his body? It reset every time. He had to move slowly, deliberately. Every stroke of the chisel, every whisper of mana, it was always a first attempt.

Inspecting the blade, he felt a fleeting flicker of satisfaction. The metal had tempered straight. No warping, no cracks. It should, in theory, hold up.

Now, he had to see how it performed.

Gripping the tang—he hadn’t gotten to fashioning a handle yet—he took a breath and swung.

A faint trail of embers followed.

Another swing. The metal glowed.

A third—too much.

Heat licked up his fingers, the tang burning into his palm.

“Shit!” Subaru yelped, dropping the blade with a clatter and plunging his hand into a bucket of water. Steam hissed as he winced, flexing his fingers. The burn wasn’t terrible, but it stung like hell.

I never got to the part where you add protection enchantments to the handle…

Frustrated, Subaru dunked his head into the bucket, letting the cool water ground him. When he pulled back, dripping and breathless, he stared at the sword lying on the floor, its glow fading.

On the bright side, the rune should keep the blade from melting… if I did it right.

Slinging water from his hair, he reached behind the counter, finding the burn ointment and bandages Conrad always kept on hand. Wrapping his hand with methodical precision, Subaru let the silence of the forge press in on him.

Even though this was progress—even though any blacksmith would call this an extraordinary achievement—Subaru felt nothing but a gnawing, twisting knot of frustration in his gut.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough!

Grinding his teeth, he grabbed the book, flipping through it until he found another rune. Lightning.

He didn’t hesitate.

He began again.

Halfway through the process—

Zap.

Pain lanced through him. His muscles seized, his breath cut short—

Blink.

Back in Roswaal’s study.

Subaru’s hands clenched into fists, still trembling from the phantom pain.

Best guess?

His heart had stopped. Or maybe his body had been fried from the inside out.

Didn’t matter.

He cursed under his breath, took a deep breath—

And read the books again.

---

Subaru sat in the back of Otto’s cart, his gaze cold and distant. He flexed his fingers, staring down at the heavy bandages that wrapped the left half of his body. The pain was dull now, nothing more than an afterthought. He had only just finished the sword—hours before Otto arrived—but it had nearly cost him his life. 

Again.

At some point, he had started taking precautions. Adjusting. Learning from his mistakes. Trying to protect himself. But the deaths blurred together. Each failure, each searing agony, another weight pressing down on him.

But now…

Now, he had something.

A weapon that might finally tip the scales. Clutching the cloth-wrapped blade to this chest, he thought over how he’d kill them… it had taken him so long.

His face was still raw, half-burned, his skin tight from the damage. He barely noticed.

Nothing matters.

None of this matters.

All that matters is victory.

Just another body on the pile.

Another.

Another.

Another.

“Well… here we are,” Otto said uneasily, glancing back. “Are you sure you don’t need to find a healer?”

“Keep going to Arlam,” Subaru muttered, his voice edged with something Otto didn’t like.

“But—”

“If you do, you’ll be paid triple.” Subaru’s tone was quiet, even, but the weight in his words left no room for argument. “If you refuse, I’ll find someone else.”

Otto hesitated, looking between him and his Earth Dragon. Then, with a sigh, he nodded and snapped the reins.

Subaru closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose.

I’ll find a way.

Find a way.

Find a way.

Ignoring the ache in his limbs, he forced himself to eat. He had to. His body was screaming for rest, for relief, but that didn’t matter. It was a minor inconvenience.

Next time, I’ll get it right.

Just need more data.

Just need to see how well it works…

They reached Arlam before Subaru even realized it. Sleep had never come—not that he had expected it to. His body throbbed with pain, every movement sending fresh waves of agony through his nerves. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t need rest. He didn’t deserve it.

As the cart rolled to a stop, Subaru gingerly climbed out, his bandaged body stiff and aching. The moment his feet hit the dirt, gasps rippled through the gathered villagers.

“Subaru… what—what happened?!” Petra’s voice cracked as she rushed toward him, her eyes wide with horror.

Doesn’t matter.

“Get everyone to the manor,” Subaru ordered coldly. “The Witch Cult is coming.”

No explanations. No reassurances. Just the truth.

He didn’t wait for their questions. He pushed past them and started up the hill. I’ll kill Petelgeuse. I’ll save everyone.

The manor’s front doors swung open, and Rem stood there, her face frozen in shock. “S-Subaru! What happened!? Come in quickly, I’ll get Lady Emilia—no, Lady Beatrice might be better—”

“We don’t have time for that,” Subaru cut her off, his voice sharp, unyielding. “Go get Emilia and Ram. Now. The Witch Cult is coming.”

Then, without another word, he walked past her, heading straight for the courtyard. He lowered himself onto the cold stone and waited.

Come on, you bastards. Come get me.

Rem hovered, fussing over him, begging for an explanation. He ignored her. Villagers passed by, seeking out the maids for answers, but Subaru remained unmoved, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword.

“Subaru, what exactly is going on?”

He looked up. Emilia.

His stomach twisted. He hadn't seen her die in this loop. He prayed he wouldn’t see it today.

“The Witch Cult is coming,” he said flatly.

Emilia’s eyes darted around. “How can you be sure?”

“I don’t have the energy to explain. When they get here, I’m going to kill every last one of them.” His fingers clenched around the hilt, white-knuckled. “You should bring out Puck. You’ll both be needed.”

Emilia hesitated, looking toward the sky. “It’s nearly five o’clock,” she murmured, her voice uneasy. “Subaru, you’re injured—maybe you’re not thinking clearly. Let me heal you.”

“Don’t waste your mana,” Subaru scolded, shaking his head. “Save it.”

A flicker of movement caught his eye. His pulse quickened.

“Here they come.”

Subaru stood, his entire body tense. His gaze locked on the road leading into town.

“I know you’re all there,” he called out. “So come on out.”

“Subaru, there isn’t—” Emilia began, but her breath caught as the ground trembled.

Ten-robed figures rose from the earth like phantoms, their presence suffocating the air around them.

“T-That’s not good,” Emilia whispered.

Subaru bared his teeth.

Subaru didn’t wait—he had no reason to.

With a surge of mana, he ripped his sword from its makeshift cloth scabbard, his grip tightening around the hilt as he launched forward. Pain no longer mattered. Fatigue no longer mattered. The only thing that mattered was cutting them all down.

His blade ignited a brilliant arc of red-hot lightning and flames licking the ground, scorching everything in its path. The speed of his strike was instant—they died before they even understood what had happened.

“Subaru, what… what was that?!” Emilia gasped, eyes wide in shock.

But he didn’t respond.

More cultists emerged from the shadows. She had no time to hesitate, launching her ice missiles into the fray, but Subaru barely noticed. His focus was singular, absolute.

“PETELGEUSE!” he roared, cutting through another wave of robed figures.

“PETELGEUSE! PETELGEUSE! PETELGEUSE!”

He was dimly aware of the battle waging around him—Rem tearing through enemies, Emilia casting spells—but it didn’t matter. The cultists, realizing that mere daggers were useless, turned to magic, hurling bolts of fire toward him.

Foolish.

Subaru laughed as he swung his sword once more, his fire and lightning overwhelming their attacks, consuming them in a violent storm. Before they could even attempt another strike, they were already dead.

I can win.

I know I can!

Then—

“Are you Pride?”

Subaru froze, his burning gaze snapping onto the source of the voice.

Petelgeuse.

The Archbishop stood there, his grotesque form trembling with ecstasy.

“Petelgeuse, there you are.” Subaru’s grip tightened. His voice was a low growl. “Die.”

With a single, decisive swing, his blade screamed toward the Sin Archbishop.

But before it could land—

A storm of hands erupted from Petelgeuse’s body, writhing, twisting, laughing as they intercepted the attack.

“You are! You are Pride! I knew it! You must be chosen! I can tell, I can, I can, I can!”

“Shut up!” Subaru snarled, slashing again, unleashing another wave of fire and lightning.

Petelgeuse howled as his unseen hands burned away—but more sprouted in their place.

“No? Maybe Wrath? I know Wrath already, odd… no, definitely Pride! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! This perplexes me, baffles me, befuddles me! I treeeeeeeeemble!”

His unseen hands lunged for Subaru.

A barrage of ice missiles rained down from above, but Subaru had already rushed forward.

“ Shamak! ”

A cloud of black mist swallowed Petelgeuse whole.

And then—

One final slash.

His blade, white-hot, pierced through the Archbishop’s chest.

The body ignited instantly, flames devouring him until nothing remained but ash.

Subaru stumbled, falling to his knees, his mana completely drained.

“Subaru!” Emilia was at his side, panic in her voice. “What… what just happened?!”

His lungs burned. His muscles screamed. But he didn’t care.

He threw his head back and laughed.

“I won.”

I won.

I WON!

“You truly are Pride.”

Subaru’s blood ran cold.

His laughter died in his throat.

Slowly, he turned.

A woman stood before him, smirking.

She stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with sick delight.

“And there is the vessel! Oh, joy! Oh, lovely, lovely, lovely!”

Emilia immediately placed herself between them, her arms outstretched in a protective stance.

“W-What?” Subaru’s breath hitched. No. No, I killed him!

His vision swam. His body refused to move.

I used too much mana .

He struggled, forcing his legs to respond—but the ground swallowed him whole.

Damn it.

Damn it.

Damn it!

“Don’t worry, Subaru—”

“You need Puck!” Subaru gasped through the haze, his body screaming, his vision swimming.

“It’s too late in the day now,” Emilia said, her voice steady, unaware of the doom looming just behind her.

T-That’s right…

Subaru gritted his teeth, forcing himself past the agony, past the exhaustion.

Move. Move, damn it!

With sheer will alone, he pushed himself up, his body trembling from the effort.

And then—

He saw them.

A swarm of hands, writhing, twisting, reaching for Emilia.

His heart lurched. No—

“PETELGEUSE!”

The grinning woman tilted her head, her expression gleeful, her voice drenched in amusement.

“Be more sloooooothful!”

Subaru's breath caught.

A sharp pain tore through his chest.

Gasping, he looked down—

Two blades. Sticking out from his chest.

A strangled sound left his lips as his body locked up, his knees buckling. Slowly, he turned his head.

Behind him, two cultists stood, their daggers buried deep into his back.

Everything went cold. The world blurred. The ground rushed up to meet him. Somewhere, far away, he could hear Rem screaming. But it was all just haze now.

Another death.

Another.

“Pride.”

Another.

“Sloooooothful!”

Another.

“You failed her, Subaru,” Puck’s voice whispered, ice creeping along his skin, snow biting into his flesh.

“Sleep with her. Forevermore.”

Another.

“This vessel is perfect!!!! Perfect!!!!”

Another.

“Subaru?”

Another.

“Subaru.”

Another. Another. Another. Another!

“SUBARU!”

A dimly lit room.

And Rom, standing over him.

Subaru vaguely remembered venturing into the Astrea manor and fiding Rom’s room.

The old man’s weathered face creased in confusion, his voice gruff. “What are you doing here, boy?”

Subaru stared up at him, his breath still ragged, his body still trembling. His lips parted, his voice hollow— 

“I… don’t know anymore.”

Then, he wept. 

Chapter 17: ARC 2 - Chapter 7: Forging Deals

ARC II

---

Chapter VII:

Forging Deals

---

Subaru didn’t know how long he cried—time had lost all meaning. He had never won—not once. The number of times he had fought, failed, and died blurred together into an indistinguishable haze.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed into Rom’s shoulder. He felt like a child again, fragile and helpless. His surrogate father just patted his back with a comforting weight.

“Calm down, son. Just let it out, alright?” Rom’s voice was steady, the warmth Subaru had long since forgotten.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't… I can't!" Subaru's breath hitched, his chest heaving with raw, unfiltered emotion. "I'm too weak, I’m pathetic… It’s never enough!"

“You’re okay, son. Just let it out,” Rom murmured, his large hand resting firmly on Subaru’s back.

I… I told myself I wouldn’t break. That I couldn't come back here.
But I did. Because I failed. Again. Again, again, again, again!

He had killed them once before. He had let them die.

Subaru clutched Rom’s arm tightly, fingers digging into the fabric as if holding onto something real might stop him from drowning. Slowly, the tears ran dry, leaving his face hot and his throat raw. He pulled back, shaking his head. “I don’t…” His voice cracked. His thoughts refused to form into words.

Rom studied him for a long moment before speaking. “What happened, son?”

I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone. You’ll just die again!

Subaru looked down, staring at the floor as if it might swallow him whole. “The Witch’s Cult… they’re going to kill everyone in Arlam.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “And… there’s nothing I can do to stop them.”

Rom’s expression darkened. “How do you—”

“Please,” Subaru cut him off, desperation raw in his voice. He looked up, eyes pleading. “I just know. I can’t explain how. Just trust me. Trust me without asking why. Trust me when I say I can’t. Please…”

Rom opened his mouth as if to argue, then shut it. He exhaled heavily and finally nodded. “Alright, son.”

Relief and guilt flooded Subaru in equal measure. Does he believe me? But trust wasn’t enough. Trust wouldn’t save anyone. He needed more.

“I need help,” Subaru admitted, voice hoarse. “I just… I can’t win on my own. I don’t know who to turn to. I’ve tried… and failed. Over and over again.” His hands clenched into fists. “I’m not strong enough.”

Rom didn’t hesitate. “So what’s the problem? We’ll figure it out together.” He sat down on the edge of his bed, the frame groaning under his weight.

Subaru turned toward the window, watching the sun inch its way toward noon. Am I wasting time? Do I even have time to waste?

“In two days,” he said slowly, forcing himself to relive the nightmare, “the Witch’s Cult, led by the Archbishop of Sloth, will attack Arlam. They’ll kill everyone—including Emilia.” He swallowed, feeling his throat tighten. “After that… Puck will try to destroy the world.” The words sounded absurd even to his own ears, but they were the truth. “I don’t know if he’d succeed, but… it doesn’t matter.”

Rom was silent for a moment, watching him carefully. “An Archbishop? You’re sure?”

Subaru nodded, gripping his knees. “I sound crazy, don’t I?”

“A little,” Rom admitted. “But you don’t sound like you’re lying. Could be Roswaal putting something in your head, but… I don’t think that’s the case.”

Subaru let out a bitter laugh. “No. This is all me.”

Rom sighed, rubbing his chin. “Then I guess I have little choice. We’ll figure this out.”

Subaru exhaled, a shred of tension leaving his shoulders, but he knew better than to feel relieved yet. “This would be simple if Reinhard were here,” he muttered.

Rom nodded gravely. “Even Felt doesn’t know where he is.”

Subaru clenched his fists. If only I had his strength. Just for one fight. Just this once.

“But,” Rom continued, his tone shifting, “I might have an idea.”

Subaru looked up. “What is it?”

“I’ve had my ear to the ground since this Royal Selection business started,” Rom said. “I got wind that Lady Crusch has been buying up steel, armor—every bit she can get her hands on. She’s even purchasing Earth Dragons and cannons.”

“Really?” Subaru frowned, recalling his conversation with Conrad in another life. “I think Conrad mentioned Crusch had been placing orders from him, too.”

“That lines up,” Rom said. “I don’t know exactly what she’s planning, but I can tell you this—it involves a lot of soldiers.”

Subaru’s mind raced. Could she have an army ready? If I could get them to help…

“Without Reinhard, we aren’t much help,” Rom admitted. “Given enough time, I might be able to put something together, but two days? That’s pushing it.” He shook his head. “And even if we did get there in time, we’d only have a day to plan.”

“Less than that,” Subaru muttered. “The main road is blocked by the White Whale.”

Rom’s brow furrowed. “Haven’t heard that one. Where’d you get that information?”

Subaru hesitated only a moment before answering. “A merchant mentioned it.”

Otto will tell me tomorrow. It’s not a lie.

Rom considered that, then nodded. “That explains it, then.”

“Explains what?” Subaru asked.

“Crusch,” Rom said, crossing his arms. “She’s got Wilhelm van Astrea—well, Wilhelm Trias these days—in her service.”

Subaru blinked. “Wilhelm… the Sword Demon?”

“That’s the one. But here’s the important part.” Rom’s gaze sharpened. “Wilhelm’s wife was the previous Sword Saint—Theresia van Astrea.”

Subaru’s breath caught in his throat. The Sword Saint… before Reinhard?

“She was killed in battle,” Rom said, voice low. “By the White Whale.”

Subaru’s eyes widened. “Then… you think Crusch is planning to kill the White Whale? And she has Wilhelm with her to do it?”

“Exactly,” Rom confirmed. “And I know who’s supplying her—Anastasia Hoshin.”

The name clicked instantly in Subaru’s mind. “You think they have an alliance?”

“It’s possible. Or just a beneficial partnership.” Rom scratched his chin. “Either way, I haven’t heard anything about the White Whale, so I’m guessing Anastasia’s camp doesn’t know Crusch is after it.”

Subaru nodded, his mind assembling the pieces. If I can get Crusch’s army to help defend the village… With her men, we could wipe out the Cult before they even get the chance to attack.

But nothing was free.

“Crusch won’t help out of charity,” Subaru muttered. “We’ll need to offer something.”

Rom nodded approvingly. “Exactly. And what do we have to bargain with?”

“We?”

The sharp voice cut through the room like a blade.

Subaru stiffened.

Felt.

Felt stood with her hands on her hips, dressed in the same yellow outfit she’d worn when… when…

Subaru shook his head, forcing the thought away. No distractions. Focus .

“Yes, we,” he repeated firmly.

Felt scoffed, crossing her arms. “Aren’t you Roswaal’s dog now? With that stupid contract? Reinhard said it ties you to him. You could be a spy for all I know.”

“I’m not a spy,” Subaru said, exhaustion weighing down his voice. “I’m just trying to save the people in Arlam… and the ones at the manor.” His throat tightened. “Felt, I want us to be on the same team. Please. People—real people—are going to die if I… if we… do nothing. I don’t want to give up, but I…” He swallowed hard. “I’m close.”

He didn’t have the strength to argue with her, not now. Hot-headed as she was, he needed her on his side.

Rom, who had remained silent up until now, finally spoke. “I’m going to help Subaru,” he said, looking at Felt with quiet resolve. “He needs us, Felt. The three of us are family.”

Felt’s foot tapped against the floor in barely contained frustration. She glanced between them, her expression warring between suspicion and something else.

Before she could reply, the door to the room swung open, and Carol strode in, her presence stiff as ever.

“My Lady, it’s time for—” She cut herself off, her gaze landing on Subaru. Her lips thinned into a displeased line. “Ah, Mr. Natsuki, I do recall informing you that you were not welcome in this house so long as your contract with Lord Roswaal remained intact.”

“No,” Felt said flatly.

Carol’s brows furrowed. “My Lady—”

“Reinhard isn’t in charge,” Felt cut in, a smirk creeping onto her face. “ I am the Royal Candidate, not my red-haired babysitter. So his word is just advice, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“So,” Felt continued, drawing out the word, “if I wanted to invite someone—no matter how dangerous, suspicious, or downright vile—I could, yeah?”

Carol’s expression twisted, clearly suppressing a grimace. “Yes, of course, my Lady. However—”

“Then Subaru is welcome here.” Felt crossed her arms. “If for no other reason than I want him to be. If that’s a problem for the Astrea family, then I’ll just make Rom’s Loot House my official headquarters instead.”

Carol let out a slow breath, her displeasure evident. She shot Subaru a glare before finally conceding, “As you wish, my Lady.” A pause. Then, in a lower tone, she added, “I will say that if Sir Reinhard believes this to be unwise, I am inclined to agree. However, I remain at your service.”

She clapped her hands sharply, and a moment later, two young women entered the room—identical in every way except for the slight difference in their hair color.

“Flam, Grassis,” Carol addressed them, “one of you is to remain with our guest at all times. Understood?”

“Yes, Grandmother,” they said in eerie unison.

An escort? Subaru sighed. Could be worse.

“He doesn’t—” Felt started.

“It’s fine,” Subaru cut in before she could argue.

Carol gave him one last disapproving look before bowing stiffly and exiting, leaving the twins to stare at Subaru with unreadable expressions.

Felt exhaled, rubbing her temples. “The only reason I’m siding with you right now is that I’m sick of all this crap,” she muttered. “I meant what I said—I want to burn this whole stupid system to the ground. Tossing you aside over a piece of paper is exactly the kind of bullshit I hate.” She crossed her arms, fixing him with a glare. “Still pissed at you, though.”

Subaru chuckled tiredly. “Fair enough.”

Rom rose to his feet, stretching. “I need to reach out to some old contacts,” he said. “I know a few people in the service of the Hoshin Company. Might be able to work a deal with Anastasia—or at least get some information.”

Subaru raised an eyebrow. “How do you have connections in the Hoshin Company?”

“I have ties to most demi-human-aligned groups,” Rom answered with a shrug. “Though most of my old contacts are dead by now. Strange how life works.”

Subaru scratched his head, still skeptical. “Hold on— how did you even build those connections? You never mentioned anything like that before.”

“Yeah,” Felt chimed in, narrowing her eyes.

Rom simply chuckled. “That’s a story for another time. Right now, we have bigger problems.”

“Hold on.”

The room turned as one of the twins—Grassis, if Subaru remembered correctly—spoke up.

“What is it, Grassis?” Felt asked, sounding mildly impatient.

Grassis hesitated for only a second before bowing slightly. “Excuse me, my Lady, but… what exactly are you gaining from this arrangement?”

Felt blinked. “Oh yeah… I am supposed to get something out of deals like these, huh?”

“Right now, we’re arguably the second weakest of the five candidates,” Rom explained, crossing his arms. “I’d put us just a step ahead of Lady Emilia. But if we play this right, we could walk away with alliances between three, maybe even four of the camps.”

Felt frowned. “Aren’t we supposed to be competing against each other?”

“Yes and no,” Rom said. “You’re all vying for the same throne, but five powerful factions fighting each other outright? That’s not how this works. Cooperation—especially beneficial cooperation—can go a long way. You scratch their back, they scratch ours.”

“So what exactly are we bringing to the table?” Felt looked between them.

Subaru let out a long sigh. “I might be able to help with that. Thanks to… that man… ” His fists clenched involuntarily.

Felt arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Long story,” Subaru muttered. “But… I might be able to offer something valuable in exchange for cooperation.” He exhaled sharply before saying, “I know how to enchant weapons. To some effect. ”

Rom’s brow furrowed, his expression immediately skeptical. “Since when? I don’t recall you practicing anything like that back when we were staying at the manor.”

“It’s complicated,” Subaru deflected. “Just… trust me when I say I know what I’m doing. Sort of. ”

Felt turned to Rom. “Alright, you’re the expert—how valuable is that?”

Rom’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Subaru. “Depends,” he said after a pause. “Could be worth a lot … or next to nothing. Enchanted weapons are either flashy novelties or true relics—like the kind Reinhard wields. The difference is in the smith. But those who truly know how to enchant weapons?” He shook his head. “They’re rare. Mainly because most who try to learn the craft end up killing themselves in the process.”

“ WHAT?! ” Felt practically jumped, grabbing Subaru by the collar. “You learned something that dangerous ?! Are you a complete idiot , big bro?!”

“Yeah, yeah, total blockhead,” Subaru muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

I’m well aware of how dangerous it is, trust me. Dying over and over teaches you a thing or two about that…

“So, let me get this straight,” Felt huffed, crossing her arms. “You have to make some super dangerous weapon, somehow not die in the process, and then what? Pawn it off to Crusch in exchange for soldiers?”

“More like negotiating how many weapons,” Rom corrected. “I could appraise whatever you make, but I doubt they’d take my word for it.”

“Anastasia might,” Subaru pointed out. “She’s a cutthroat businesswoman at heart. She’d know the value of enchanted weapons the moment she saw one. If she’s supplying Crusch, getting her on our side could be huge. ”

Felt let out an exaggerated sigh. “You better make a damn good weapon for this to work.”

“Speaking of…” Subaru stretched before rising to his feet. “I need to hit the forge. If we’re going this route, I need something impressive to show off.”

“What about me?” Felt asked, looking put out.

“For now? Sit tight and let Rom work his magic,” Subaru smirked. “Not much else to do before we get to the negotiating table.”

“I hate that.” Felt scowled.

“You’ll have the most important job later. ” Subaru shot her a wink before striding toward the door, Grassis— or maybe it was Flam? —falling in step behind him. He’d already lost track of which was which.

I’ll kill him… I’ll kill him this time for sure. 

---

“Are you insane, boy?” Conrad spat, his face dark with frustration.

“No, I’m not… Well…” Subaru hesitated, then sighed. “Okay, maybe a little. I’m fairly certain I’ve lost a few screws by now.” He shook his head. “ Point is, I need this favor.”

“The answer is no. ” Conrad folded his arms, glaring. “I am not letting you blow up my forge, kill yourself, and take half the damn street with you trying something as foolish as forging magic weapons here.”

“I don’t see the issue,” Flam—or was it Grassis?—mused casually.

“The issue, girl,” Conrad grumbled, rubbing his temples, “is that enchanting weapons ain’t for the faint of heart. You need a special forge, and magic wards to keep failed enchantments from going haywire and leveling a whole block. I don’t know all the details, but you can count the number of smiths who can do it properly on one hand. ”

“I know what I’m doing,” Subaru promised.

“ Bullshit, ” Conrad barked. “You’re a damn fine craftsman, but one month learning from any mage doesn’t mean you’re ready to pull off something this reckless. You’re liable to kill yourself. Hell, most do kill themselves in the first five minutes! That’s what little I do understand.”

I am aware, Subaru wanted to say but held his tongue.

“Well… this seems promising,” the twin muttered dryly.

“Conrad, just… trust me?” Subaru pleaded.

“It’s for your safety, boy!” Conrad’s expression didn’t soften.

This is why I never tried forging when he was around… Subaru thought bitterly. He exhaled sharply, shifting tactics.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Then I’ll find a forge.”

“You won’t be using mine,” Conrad snapped, “and any smith with half a working brain will turn you away, same as me. End of discussion. ”

“You would be compensated,” the twin stated bluntly. “Our master is a candidate for the throne, after all.”

Conrad blinked, clearly caught off guard. “I did hear about that. But you’re working for Roswaal, which means you answer to that half-elf. Whatever—”

“No, not the half-elf, sir,” the girl interrupted, frowning. “Lady Felt, of course.”

“Wait… Felt ? Not your Felt?” Conrad’s brows knit together in confusion. “Can’t be.”

“The same Felt,” Subaru confirmed. “Long story.”

Conrad let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his temples. “This world must have gone mad ... A half-elf and a burglar as candidates for Queen? No offense, lad.”

“None taken,” Subaru replied dryly. He could only imagine the rest of the kingdom was equally baffled.

“Still,” Conrad grumbled, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter who’s asking, lass.” He turned to Flam… or Grassis—Subaru still couldn’t tell them apart. “The fact remains, what this idiot is about to attempt is dangerous in the extreme. It’s not a question of gold, it’s about stopping him from killing himself.”

“You could become the personal smith to the next queen,” the twin said with a casual shrug.

Subaru leaned over and whispered, “Can you even authorize that?”

Without missing a beat, the twin dug her heel into his foot. Subaru stiffened, biting back a very undignified yelp.

“ Point is, ” she shot him a warning glare, “we need an enchanted weapon, he’s willing to make it, and you’re the best option. I don’t have to like it, but I’ll be up the road just in case.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Subaru muttered, shifting his weight off his now-throbbing foot.

Conrad crossed his arms. “Doesn’t matter what title you offer me—that’s not the point.” His gaze lingered on Subaru for a long moment before he let out a long, weary sigh. “Dragon forgive me … You’re going to do this no matter what I say, aren’t you, boy?”

Subaru nodded. “Honestly? If I can’t do it here, I’ll just find some poor bastard desperate enough to let me use their forge.”

Conrad cursed under his breath. “You are a damn fool , Natsuki Subaru.”

There was a tense silence before Conrad shook his head again, exhaling heavily. “Fine. If you’re committed to this madness, then you might as well have someone who knows what the hell they’re doing helping you. But if you send us both to hell, I swear I’ll beat your ass in the afterlife, you hear me, boy?”

“I’ll be up the street buying fruit,” the twin announced quickly, already turning to leave.

“The hell you are,” Conrad growled, grabbing her by the collar before she could escape. “You roped me into this mess, so you’re gonna stand here and do whatever the boy tells you. If I’m going to die in a damn explosion, I’ll be damned if the one who helped talk me into this insanity gets to watch from the sidelines!”

Subaru wasted no time preparing. He knew what needed to be done, what had to be done. Every step was critical. Every mistake—fatal.

First, he went to select the exact type of steel he preferred. Experience —earned through death after death—had taught him that even this mattered. The wrong steel meant failure before he even began.

Meanwhile, Flam—who had finally introduced herself properly to Conrad—was assigned to scrub the floors. No dust, no stray debris, no outside interference. A clean workspace meant no unintended mishaps.

Then came the forge itself. “Heat it hotter than normal,” Subaru instructed Conrad.

The old smith grumbled but did as he was told, working the bellows with practiced efficiency. He had no idea just how many times Subaru had learned this lesson—the hard way.

With everything in place, Subaru exhaled and opened his books one last time.

“This is going to take hours ,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “And it’ll be the most stressful thing I’ve done in a while .” He glanced at Flam. “Make sure no one enters the shop. One slip of my hand and—”

“Well, I could do that from up the street,” she teased.

“I will haunt you from the grave , girl!” Conrad barked.

“No shouting,” Subaru warned, setting out the remaining tools he needed.

“Sorry,” Conrad grumbled. “Just… are you sure about this, kid?”

“Certain,” Subaru replied, rolling his shoulders as he steadied his breath. “You just keep the forge burning.”

Then, he began the chant.

The ancient words felt unnatural on his tongue—burned as they left his lips. His mind knew them and had memorized them over dozens of attempts, but his body still struggled to follow. Each syllable had to be perfect.

“Being made an apprentice in my own shop… what a day,” Conrad muttered as he pumped the bellows.

Subaru ignored him, eyes locked on the blade as he carefully etched the first runes into the steel. His strokes were precise and deliberate—one mistake, and he’d have to start all over again.

Slowly, painstakingly, the runes spread across the surface, glowing faintly as the magic took hold. He double-checked everything, ensuring every line and curve was flawless.

“ That’s it?” Conrad peered over his shoulder.

“That… was the easy part,” Subaru admitted, standing back and flexing his fingers. His hands were already cramping.

Satisfied with the forge’s heat, he grabbed the tongs and gently placed the steel into the inferno.

“Easy?” Conrad scoffed. “That looked complicated as hell! How did you learn this in a month , boy?”

“I am contractually not allowed to impart knowledge taught to me by Roswaal, so it’s not worth asking .” Subaru’s eyes never left the forge.

Conrad huffed. “Magic’s a damn strange thing… but we’re not dead yet, so I suppose I’m a little impressed.”

Subaru barely heard him. He was too busy watching. Waiting. Timing was everything.

The second the steel turned the right shade of orange, he moved.

Carefully, he lifted the glowing blade from the forge, placed it onto the anvil, and resumed his chant.

And that’s when the real battle began.

Mana surged through his veins, twisting and resisting like a beast fighting against its leash. The effort was agonizing —worse than the crystal training had been. It was like trying to hold back a raging tide, and it took every ounce of willpower to maintain control.

This was where so many of his past attempts had ended—in pain, in fire, in death.

Not this time.

Back into the fire. Back onto the anvil.

The cycle repeated over and over, each strike of the hammer forging not just steel, but magic into the blade itself.

His arms ached. His vision blurred. Every second felt like an eternity.

By the time the blade was finally drawn out, Subaru’s hands were shaking.

“This is it,” he murmured.

“This is where it takes —or it doesn’t .”

Conrad’s expression darkened. He knew what that meant.

“Go up the street,” Subaru told him. “You’ve done enough.”

But Conrad smirked. “I’ve come this far—shame not to see it through.”

Subaru wanted to argue. Wanted to insist. But he had no time.

Taking a final breath, he lifted the blade.

The last chant was spoken, and with a steady hand, he plunged the glowing steel into the oil.

Subaru braced himself— heart hammering —fully expecting the entire forge to implode, or his own heart to stop.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

Then—he exhaled.

He was still here.

The forge was still here.

Letting out a shaky gasp, Subaru lifted the blade, checking the alignment.

Perfectly straight.

“…That’s it?” Conrad asked cautiously, eyeing Subaru like he’d just walked away from a dragon’s maw.

“That’s it…” Subaru could barely believe it himself. His body sagged as exhaustion slammed into him.

“Well… that wasn’t—” Conrad stopped, then let out a barking laugh. “ Shit, who am I kidding? That was insane, boy! ” He slumped against the workbench, rubbing his temples. “I was certain we were dead the second you started that chanting nonsense. By the Dragon, you actually did it! You made a damn enchanted sword without killing us. Do you realize how rare that is?!”

Subaru let out a breathless chuckle. “Yeah… well, still gotta enchant the hilt .” He dragged himself over to begin shaping the crossguard and grip. “At least that won’t kill me if I mess up.”

Conrad just shook his head. “Kid… you’re something else .”

---

Subaru’s legs felt like jelly as he wrapped the blade in cloth. Conrad had insisted on making a proper sheath for it, but Subaru couldn’t afford to wait. His former master had assured him he’d personally deliver it to the Astrea mansion once it was finished.

Subaru thanked him again before heading off. He and Flam barely made it a few yards out of the Artisan District when a familiar voice called out.

“ Subaru! ”

Looking up, he saw Felt leaning casually against a carriage. Grimm, the old man he vaguely recalled from before, sat in the driver’s seat, holding the reins of a sturdy earth dragon hitched to the Astrea family’s modest carriage.

“How long have you been waiting there?” Subaru asked.

“Not long,” Felt shrugged.

“An hour,” Grassis corrected from beside her grandfather.

“Thank you, Grassis,” Felt muttered through clenched teeth.

Subaru smirked but didn’t push it. Instead, he let out a breath and adjusted the wrapped blade in his arms. “So, where are we off to?”

Flam opened the carriage door, allowing Felt and Subaru to climb inside. Subaru practically collapsed onto the seat, grateful to finally be off his feet.

“To the home of Duchess Crusch Karsten,” Rom answered.

Subaru blinked in mild surprise. He hadn’t even noticed the giant was inside the carriage, crammed into one half like a coiled bear avoiding the outside world. Typical Rom. Always one to avoid prying eyes.

“How did the forging go?” Felt asked, her gaze flicking to the cloth-covered weapon.

“Well,” Subaru exhaled, leaning back against the cushioned seat. “I’m alive, and I didn’t burn half my face off, so… that’s a win.” He shuddered at the many attempts where that hadn’t been the case.

“Let’s have a look,” Rom reached over expectantly.

Wordlessly, Subaru handed him the blade. The moment Rom unwrapped it, his expression shifted.

“Runes like these…” the giant muttered, running a thick finger along the fresh engravings. His eyes narrowed, studying the weapon with quiet intensity.

“Well?” Felt leaned forward, trying to get a better look. “Is it worth anything?”

Rom hummed, then handed the blade back. “Mmm. Could be.”

“ Could be? ” Felt scoffed. “What kinda answer is that?”

“Hard to say,” Rom admitted. “It looks real, and certainly is real, but enchanted weapons ain’t easy things to grade. You won’t know until someone actually uses it.”

Subaru tightened his grip on the cloth-wrapped hilt. “It works ,” he said, his voice firm.

Burn that bastard…

Burned him again… and again… and—

A sudden flick to his forehead snapped him out of it.

“W-what?” Subaru blinked in confusion.

“You spaced out,” Felt grumbled, arms crossed. “We’re here.”

Subaru looked outside. Sure enough, they had arrived at Crusch Karsten’s estate.

As Subaru stepped out of the carriage, he immediately took note of the activity surrounding Crusch’s estate. Carts lined the courtyard, men hauling crates through the grand entrance. The sheer scale of the operation was enough to confirm what they already suspected—Crusch was preparing for something big.

Flam and Grassis flanked Felt as they moved toward the entrance, their posture stiff with formality. To Subaru’s mild surprise, Grimm followed close behind, his usual gruff expression unreadable.

“She’s late, it seems,” Rom muttered.

Subaru was about to ask who he meant when he felt a sudden poke to his side. He turned, startled, only to find Ferris smirking up at him.

“You seem healthy, nya~” the demi-human teased, golden eyes gleaming. “How’s my newest patient doing?”

“Oh, uh… fine,” Subaru lied, forcing a casual shrug. Physically, he was in one piece, but mentally… well, that was another story. If sanity had a threshold, he was sure he’d long since crossed it.

Just don’t think about it.

“Nya-ow, where are my manners?” Ferris chuckled, his tail flicking playfully. “Lady Felt, welcome! This is quite an impromptu meeting, but Miss Crusch was delighted to hear you had something to discuss.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get to it,” Felt smirked, slipping into her usual nonchalance.

“Right this way, please!” Ferris gestured, leading them deeper into the estate.

The duchess’s home struck a balance between Roswaal’s eccentric grandeur and the Astrea mansion’s more restrained elegance. The halls were lined with portraits of past military leaders, busts of legendary generals, and battle paintings depicting long-forgotten wars.

One particular painting, showcasing a brutal skirmish from the Demi-Human War, made Rom stop in his tracks. His expression darkened as he studied it, the moment stretching long enough for Subaru to notice. Then, as if snapping himself from a trance, the old giant grunted and kept walking.

Eventually, they arrived at a cozy yet dignified office, where Crusch sat behind a grand desk. Across from her, an older man in a crisp black uniform sipped from a cup of tea. His hair and beard were white as snow, and a sword rested at his hip. Wilhelm van Astrea.

Crusch stood as they entered, her composed demeanor unwavering. “Ah, Felt, welcome.” She extended a hand.

“Thank you for having me, Duchess,” Felt replied smoothly, shaking it with the kind of grace that made Subaru blink in mild surprise. Carol must’ve been drilling that into her head.

“Please, take a seat,” Crusch gestured toward the couch.

Felt sat, doing her best to appear poised, while Subaru took his place at her side, arms crossed. Across from them, Crusch settled into her chair, radiating confidence.

“Grimm, it has been some time, I am pleased to see you,” Wilhelm said nodding to the normally mute old man. 

“Same here, old friend,” Grimm said, his voice weak and horse.

“Greetings concluded,” the duchess began, accepting a glass of brandy from Ferris, “the nature of this meeting was not specified. However, I found myself intrigued. What is it you wish to discuss?”

Felt didn’t waste a second. “The White Whale. You’re going after it.”

Crusch exchanged a glance with Wilhelm before returning her gaze to Felt. “And where, I wonder, did you hear that?”

Felt smirked. “I have my sources.”

Crusch studied her for a moment. “Hypothetically speaking… if we were, why would that matter to you?”

“We,” Felt leaned forward, smirking, “want to get in on the action. And we need a favor.”

Crusch quirked an eyebrow. “A favor? Wouldn’t merely being allowed to participate be a favor in itself?”

Felt frowned, as if considering that for the first time. “No, I don’t think so. Not really.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, the favor is after dealing with the whale. We want your help taking out a bunch of Witch Cultists.”

Subaru couldn’t help but admire how casually she said it, as if it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Crusch blinked, clearly caught off guard. “The Witch Cult?” She studied Subaru now. “That’s rather sudden… unless…” Her gaze sharpened. “You’re Roswaal’s apprentice. I assume that means the cult is after your candidate?”

Subaru met her eyes evenly. “I’m with Felt, not Emilia.”

“Oh?” Crusch leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. “Interesting. Out of curiosity, then… why help a rival? Wouldn’t allowing the cult to take care of Emilia be to your benefit? One less competitor in the race.”

“That’s a bit cold, ” Felt muttered.

Crusch sipped her drink, unfazed. “If Emilia cannot protect her own territory from external threats, then she has no business leading this country. It might sound cold, but it is simply reality. None of us are obligated to carry her burdens. Nor are you.”

“Obviously,” Rom spoke up, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “We have our own motivations. But obviously, we don’t expect your aid for nothing.”

Crusch smiled faintly. “Oh? And what exactly are you offering in exchange? The Witch Cult isn’t a band of common thieves. Whatever you’re asking for would require quite the trade.”

“And just what would that be?” Crusch leaned forward, her piercing gaze settling on Subaru.

Without a word, Subaru took the cloth-wrapped sword and tossed it toward Wilhelm. The older man caught it effortlessly, his eyebrow lifting in mild curiosity.

“A sword?” Wilhelm unwrapped the weapon, his gloved fingers tracing over the steel with a practiced touch. His gaze sharpened as he ran his fingertips over the faint, glowing runes etched into the blade. “Runes… an enchanted blade. And freshly forged, no less.” He glanced up. “Where did you acquire this?”

“I made it,” Subaru said simply.

Crusch scoffed. “Absurd.”

Wilhelm’s expression remained unreadable, but Crusch leaned back in her chair, swirling the brandy in her glass. “There are only four smiths in the world capable of forging real enchanted weapons. And from what little I’ve learned about you, before you became Roswaal’s apprentice, you were nothing more than a blacksmith’s apprentice. Hardly a master.”

Subaru blinked. “You looked into me?”

“Don’t be flattered,” Crusch said smoothly. “I’ve had background checks done on every notable figure from the other camps. Information is power, after all.” She took a measured sip of her drink. “So tell me—did you buy this from a merchant at an exorbitant price and now hope to pass it off as your work?”

Wilhelm, however, remained focused on the blade, his grip firm as he tested its balance. “It’s too freshly made,” he murmured.

“You can’t seriously believe he forged this,” Crusch countered, though there was the slightest trace of uncertainty in her tone now.

Wilhelm handed the sword over to her. “I don’t know for certain. But the steel is fresh. No merchant would have sold such an item so quickly unless it was a forgery.”

“I was there,” Flam spoke up suddenly, arms crossed. “His old master wouldn’t shut up about how dangerous it was. Subaru was determined to get us all killed just to make the thing.”

Thanks for the backhanded support, Subaru thought, exhaling sharply.

Crusch examined the weapon more closely now, her brow furrowing ever so slightly. For the first time since the conversation began, she looked as if she were seriously considering Subaru’s claim.

“You could just use your ability to tell if he’s lying, you know,” Ferris teased, his tail flicking playfully.

“I have been,” Crusch countered smoothly, her sharp gaze never leaving Subaru. “And yet, the absurdity of someone learning such a skill so quickly remains.”

Ferris chuckled. “Well, odd things do happen in this world, don’t they?”

Crusch exhaled, studying the blade with renewed scrutiny. “It can’t be real, can it?”

A new voice cut through the room. “Oh, it’s real all right.”

Turning toward the door, Subaru’s stomach twisted as he spotted Anastasia Hoshin sauntering into the office with a knowing smirk.

Crusch frowned. “I don’t recall this being a three-way meeting.”

“Oh, I invited her,” Felt interjected casually, arms crossed, a smug grin tugging at her lips.

Crusch raised an amused eyebrow. “Ah, an ambush. How delightful. Well, let’s see how this plays out, shall we?”

Anastasia approached the desk, her calculating blue eyes settling on the sword. “May I?”

Without hesitation, Crusch handed the blade over. Anastasia ran her fingers lightly across the etched runes, tilting the weapon to catch the light. “Impressive… It’s real. Freshly made, too.”

Crusch crossed her arms. “So… you’re a prodigy then, Subaru? Is that it?”

Hardly.

“Yes,” Subaru lied effortlessly.

Crusch hummed, tilting her head as if scrutinizing a puzzle. “You don’t believe that,” she noted, “but you’re confident in your ability. Maybe you just got lucky ?”

“Doubtful,” Anastasia chimed in, a glint of intrigue in her eyes. “Something like this isn’t lucked into.” Her smirk widened, predatory and gleeful. “Oh, now I simply must have one.”

She looked at Subaru as if he were a rare breed of dragon—one she could buy if she named the right price.

He shivered.

“What exactly are you offering? This sword in exchange for my help?” Crusch probed, her gaze sharp and unwavering.

“No,” Subaru corrected, standing firm. “I’m offering my skills. You’ll have the right to request a weapon of your choosing in the future. If this sword is enough to satisfy you, then so be it.”

Crusch tapped a finger against her glass, considering. “And what’s that worth, exactly? I’ll know if you’re lying.” She glanced at Anastasia expectantly.

Anastasia chuckled, twirling a loose strand of hair between her fingers. “Normally, I charge an appraisal fee, ya know? But, in the spirit of the moment, I’ll let you have this one for free .”

She turned the sword over in her hands, running her fingers along the etched runes with a smirk. “Craftsmanship’s solid. Runes are clean. But the finishing touches?” She clicked her tongue. “A little lacking. Could use some gilding, maybe a few gemstones. Not exactly a masterpiece and it won’t be displayed in a noble’s collection anytime soon… but for pure function ?” She paused for effect. “I’d put it at… conservatively … three hundred holy gold coins.”

Crusch arched an eyebrow. “So little ?”

“ Little ?!” Felt nearly fell over, her face twisting in disbelief. “That’s a small fortune! Our royal insignias are only worth twenty holy coins!”

Anastasia sighed, shaking her head. “No, no. Those insignias are worth much more—closer to a hundred holy coins each. Problem is, if you didn’t know what they were, you might assume they were far cheaper.”

Crusch ignored the tangent and refocused on Subaru. “How many enchanted weapons have you forged?”

Subaru hesitated for only a fraction of a second before answering, “This is the first.”

It wasn’t a lie—at least, not in the strictest sense. It was the first successful attempt in this timeline.

Anastasia’s eyes gleamed with something between excitement and predatory amusement. “Oh, I must have you!” She clapped her hands together, grinning. “Tell me, what’s your price ?”

Subaru tensed. “I—”

“You can’t just buy people, ya know!” Felt cut in, glaring.

“Of course you can,” Anastasia countered breezily. “Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not advocating slavery or anything barbaric.” She gestured around the room. “But everyone working under you? They’re yours. Just like everyone in this room belongs to their respective camps. People always have a price—it’s just a matter of finding the right one.”

She smiled sweetly at Subaru. “So… what’s yours ?”

“I don’t have a price,” Subaru said firmly, crossing his arms. “At least, not for my loyalty .”

Anastasia sighed dramatically, but there was amusement in her eyes. “Maybe one day, then. For now, I’ll settle for favors .”

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Crusch cut in, her tone sharp.

“Well, we are talking business.” Anastasia tilted her head, the smirk never leaving her lips. “Don’t get left out of the deal, or do —doesn’t matter to me .”

Crusch exhaled through her nose, unimpressed. “The White Whale has nothing to do with you, and I have no intention of assisting Emilia’s camp—especially when, as Subaru himself has pointed out, he is not a part of it.”

“Oh?” Anastasia raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Then I suppose we can leave you to your Whale hunting —and I’ll provide Felt with the people she needs. In fact…” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I might just get a better deal if I cut you out entirely .”

The air in the room grew thick with tension. Crusch’s sharp gaze flicked to Subaru, then to Felt, then back to Anastasia. “Then why bring you here at all?”

“Well,” Anastasia hummed, amusement dancing in her eyes, “I assume our dear Felt here—or more likely, her giant friend—is hoping to start a bidding war of sorts.” She gave Rom a knowing look.

Rom didn’t so much as blink.

“I don’t have to participate if I don’t want to,” Crusch noted, leaning back in her chair, her expression unreadable.

“Well, at least we’ll know where your priorities lie,” Anastasia shrugged. “More for me.”

Felt crossed her arms. “What exactly are you offering?”

“Me?” Anastasia placed a hand on her chest as if the question was beneath her. “I have mercenaries on my payroll. Not nearly as many as dear Crusch here, but more than enough for what you need. That, and my good knight, of course.” She flashed a teasing smile. “Though his involvement would need to be a little more hush-hush .”

“We’ll cut a deal with you, then,” Subaru said without hesitation.

“Oh?” Anastasia’s smirk widened. “Very good. We can talk pricing, though I should drop by the Astrea Manor later—wouldn’t want to talk shop in Crusch’s own office, now would we?” Her gaze flicked to the duchess, full of unspoken challenge. “You are out of the running for his services… or am I mistaken?”

“I never said that,” Crusch countered coolly. “All you have is the Iron Fang. I have a small army .” She exhaled as if already regretting her next words. “Two. I want two enchanted weapons.”

Subaru smirked but opened his mouth to push back—

“I want three,” Anastasia interjected smoothly.

Subaru blinked. “ Three? You’re not even providing—”

“I wasn’t done,” Anastasia tutted, wagging a finger. “I want three —one for the services of the Iron Fang, and two in exchange for eight hundred holy coins.”

Subaru nearly choked. “Eight hundred ?”

“I think of it as an investment,” Anastasia mused, watching him like a cat eyeing a trapped mouse. “Like purchasing a promising artist’s paintings early —a speculative market, yes, but the future value could be… considerable .”

“What if we just want the Iron Fang, not the coin?” Rom asked, arms crossed.

“It’s an all-or-nothing deal,” Anastasia replied without hesitation.

Felt narrowed her eyes, then smirked. “ A thousand holy coins.”

“ Done ,” Anastasia said so fast that Felt nearly fell out of her seat.

Throwing money around like it’s nothing. If it lets me kill him… I don’t care…

“Perhaps I should request more, then,” Crusch mused, eyeing them all before letting out a measured sigh. “Two enchanted weapons… valued at a thousand holy coins… and a thousand more to take on the Witch Cult. Men on my side will die.”

“You’ll gain the prestige of saving Arlam,” Rom countered, his voice steady. “People will die no matter what we do.”

“We still haven’t addressed how to frame this,” Crusch pointed out, swirling her drink thoughtfully. “While this would be an alliance between Anastasia, Felt, and myself, Emilia is not represented here. To encroach on her territory, without her request … would be uncouth, at best.”

“I’m still Roswaal’s Mage Apprentice,” Subaru said, leaning forward. “The request would be from him, not Emilia. If necessary, an alliance could be retroactively applied.”

“That… or,” Anastasia interjected smoothly, “ you could simply represent her here. If Felt’s Camp forms an alliance with you, it effectively extends to her.”

“No,” Subaru frowned. “I’m with Felt .”

“Sure,” Anastasia chuckled, tilting her head, “but as I understand it, you have a foot in both camps. For the sake of framing, you could temporarily act as an extension of Roswaal—like you said—which, by proxy, would include Emilia. I’d bet your master would jump at an agreement where the costs are Felt’s to bear.”

Subaru groaned. He hated how much sense that made.

“Fine,” Felt huffed, crossing her arms. “For now, he’s half-elf team .” She shot Subaru a side glance. “Don’t get comfy, though—you’re gonna end up on my team at the end of the day.” She turned back to Crusch. “Satisfied?”

Crusch studied them, then leaned as Wilhelm whispered something in her ear. She held his gaze for a moment before nodding. “Very well. I accept —on one condition.”

“Name it,” Anastasia said, tapping her nails against the table.

“We kill the White Whale first .”

Anastasia sighed, rubbing her temples. “We don’t even know where or when it will appear. I am all for killing that beast, as my very generous deals on supplies to you have demonstrated.” Her lips curled into a smirk. “But the thing doesn’t exactly operate on a schedule.”

“It’ll be at the Flugel Tree soon,” Subaru said without hesitation. “Exactly when … I’m not sure.”

Crusch’s eyes sharpened. “And you know this how ?”

“I can’t tell you how I came across this information,” Subaru said simply.

Crusch studied him for a long moment. “Odd… you’re not lying. Or at least… you believe what you’re saying.”

“Well, it’s a better lead than we’ve been able to dig up,” Ferris shrugged.

Crusch exhaled through her nose, setting her drink aside. “So be it. Tomorrow morning, we march out and set up camp under the Flugel Tree.”

Tomorrow…

Chapter 18: ARC 2 - Chapter 8: Whaling

ARC II

---

Chapter VIII:

Whaling

---

Subaru was in a terrible mood as they rode toward the Flugel Tree atop a borrowed earth dragon named Patrasche.

Sure, they had struck a deal with Crusch and Anastasia, but now he was in debt to even more parties. Even if it was just to forge more enchanted weapons, the weight of that obligation pressed down on him. Deals were leverage, and leverage could be exploited.

And that was just the start of his problems.

Glancing back, he watched as Felt struggled with her teal-scaled Earth Dragon, muttering curses under her breath as she yanked at the reins. She’d changed into a more variation of her old attire, though the quality of her clothes was vastly better. All that remained of her old clothes was the red scarf he’d given her, flapping in the wind behind her.

They had argued long into the night about her coming along. Subaru hadn’t held back—hadn’t sugarcoated his concerns.

I don’t think I can take seeing her die over and over…

But this was a new angle of attack A fresh attempt. And if there was one thing he had learned from the mountain of corpses behind him…

I can’t do this alone.

I’ll kill him.

Petelgeuse, Petelgeuse, Petelgeuse, Petelgeuse, Petelgeuse, Petelgeuse!

Shaking his head, Subaru forced that thing — that man —out of his mind.

Further back, he saw Flam—or maybe Grassis—trying to convince Felt to ride in the carriage instead. Nearly everyone from Felt’s camp had come along. The twins, Rom, even Carol and Grimm had joined the attack party without a second thought.

Despite the insane risk the White Whale posed, they had still chosen to come.

And that was what worried Subaru the most.

I can take dying… but Rom? Felt?

It was already unbearable watching the people at the manor die over… and over… and over… and—

“So, you’re the forge master who got us all whaling, huh?”

Subaru blinked, snapping out of his thoughts as he turned to see a towering wolf-man riding a grey-and-white-bellied Liger. Broad-shouldered and heavily built, his brown fur was marked with battle scars, and his thick tail swayed behind him. He wore tattered black trousers, but only a heavy black chain draped across his chiseled chest.

“Oh, yeah, I suppose I am,” Subaru replied, eyeing the beastkin warily. “I take it you’re with the Iron Fang?”

“Captain of ‘em!” the wolf-man grinned, his fangs flashing. “Name’s Ricardo Welkin!”

“Natsuki Subaru,” he introduced himself, shaking the mercenary’s massive paw-like hand. “How long have you been working for Anastasia?”

“Years now. We’ve got an exclusive contract with the Hoshin Company. Mostly guard caravans and supply routes. Never had a single shipment pilfered on our watch,” Ricardo boasted. “Not that many try these days—our rep keeps most troublemakers away.” His grin widened. “So when we got the call to take on somethin’ real dangerous, you bet we were excited! The White Whale’s the biggest prey we’ve ever hunted!”

“Excited?” Subaru deadpanned. “You must be some kind of adrenaline junkie.”

“ Nervous? ” a smaller voice chimed in.

Subaru glanced down to find three kitten demi-humans riding alongside them. They were triplets, but thankfully distinct enough for him to tell them apart. They all had twitching orange ears, swishing tails, and wide, mischievous grins.

One had a monocle.
One had short hair.
The last had braided pigtails.

“Me? No,” Subaru replied, his voice flat.

What’s one more body on the pile? Just another… another…

“You don’t look nervous,” the monocled one observed, his feline eyes sharp. “Have you fought something like this before?”

“I’ve had some experience,” Subaru answered vaguely.

Mostly with dying.

“This one’s Mimi!” the pigtail girl beamed, pointing to herself. “That’s Tivey,” she gestured to the monocle-wearing boy, “and that’s Hetaro!” she finished, nodding toward the short-haired triplet.

“Good to meet you all,” Subaru nodded.

“Mimi wonders how hard enchanting is,” Mimi mused, her ears perking up.

“Hard,” Subaru said bluntly. “I wouldn’t recommend trying it. You’d be lucky to come out whole.”

“Mimi observes that you’re still in one piece.”

This time.

“I suppose I’m lucky,” he shrugged.

“I’d love to pick your brain sometime,” Tivey said, adjusting his monocle with an eager glint in his eyes. “Not every day you get to chat with someone who’s forged an enchanted weapon!”

“Sure. Sometime down the road,” Subaru replied, forcing a hollow smile.

If this isn’t just another dead end.

Before he could dwell on that thought, a panicked yelp cut through the air.

“ Get me off this thing! ”

Subaru snapped his head around just in time to see Felt barreling past on her Earth Dragon, clinging to the reins for dear life as the beast sprinted ahead, kicking up a trail of dust in its wake.

“Excuse me,” Subaru said quickly, snapping his reins. “I need to go rescue my sister.”

With a sharp tug, Patrasche surged forward, her powerful legs eating up the distance as Subaru leaned into the ride.

“Felt, stop squirming!” 

---

They had set up camp early that afternoon. As tents rose and cook fires flickered to life, Subaru paced, his nerves stretched thin. He had never taken this route before—there had never been a need. Risking an encounter with the White Whale had always seemed like a suicidal gamble . And yet, here he was, praying that the monster would appear.

Because if it didn’t, everything else would fall apart.

Tomorrow, without fail, the Witch Cult would attack Arlam . There was nothing he could do to change that. No matter how many times he died, no matter how much he struggled, that fact was fixed . What wasn’t fixed was Crusch’s willingness to leave camp before the Whale attacked. If she refused, if she insisted on waiting… the village, everyone at the manor— Emilia —would be left to die .

The hours ticked by. Afternoon turned to evening. Evening bled into the night.

Scouts patrolled the perimeter, their silhouettes barely visible against the dimming sky. Crusch had even sent outriders to search for any sign of the beast.

And yet, nothing.

Subaru kept pacing. His mind raced .

What if I die here? Can I recreate the exact events that got me here?

His conversation with Rom had been what set this timeline in motion. But that hadn’t been an act. His breakdown had been real . He couldn’t just fake something like that again. If he reset now—if everything slipped through his fingers again —could he even reach this point again?

A voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.

“Subaru, aren’t you going to sleep, son?”

He looked up to see Rom watching him, arms crossed, his massive frame barely illuminated by the firelight.

“No. Can’t. Too much going on in my head,” Subaru muttered. “What about you?”

“I was talking with Crusch,” Rom said, glancing at the night sky. “Gave her some advice. She took it under advisement.”

“Advice?” Subaru asked, frowning.

“I had concerns about her scouting parties. She only sent out three teams. I told her she should have more.”

Subaru stopped dead.

“Wait. Three ?”

Rom nodded. “Yeah. Three parties.”

Subaru shook his head. “No. That’s wrong. She sent eight .”

Rom’s expression darkened. “No, she didn’t. I was there when she gave the orders.”

“I was too,” Subaru said, his pulse spiking. “It was eight . I remember her saying it.”

They stared at each other, the weight of the realization settling over them like a cold shroud.

Subaru’s stomach twisted .

“You don’t think…” His voice came out unsteady. “They got eaten by the Whale before they could report back?”

Rom frowned. “If the Whale erased them from existence, then we shouldn’t remember them either.”

But I do.

Before Subaru could say another word, the moonlight dimmed.

A low fog began to creep into the camp, curling around the tents like ghostly fingers.

Rom went rigid. “Wake the others. Now.”

Subaru bolted, shouting into the tents, shaking men awake. He wasn’t alone—the sentries had already sounded the alarm. Chaos erupted as soldiers scrambled for their weapons, torches flared to life, and the fog thickened.

Subaru ran frantically, his heart hammering as the mist choked the air. The Whale had already closed in. The outriders—the ones no one but him remembered—must have been the first to die.

Then came the roar.

A screeching, monstrous wail ripped through the night, shaking Subaru to his core.

Then—screams.

The ground shuddered as something massive tore through the camp.

Subaru sprinted, his sword already in hand, his breath ragged as he ran toward the source of the carnage. What he saw made his blood run cold.

The earth was ripped open, tents obliterated, bodies strewn across the dirt. Some of them were missing limbs. Others were missing everything below the waist.

Men clutched at bleeding stumps, some screaming, some already too far gone to make a sound.

Subaru swallowed down bile.

“Get the wounded! Head for the base of the tree!” he yelled.

“Where in the Dragon’s name is that?!” a soldier cried, staggering to his feet.

Subaru turned in every direction, but the mist had warped his sense of direction.

“Back that way, I think,” he pointed.

Damn it. Damn it! I can’t stop—I need to find Felt!

Ignoring the cries of the wounded, Subaru ran.

He could hear the battle raging around him—men shouting, steel clashing, the Whale’s inhuman shrieks echoing through the mist. Somewhere in the distance, Crusch was shouting orders, trying to rally her forces.

They’d been completely unprepared.

The outriders were gone. The fog had dropped too fast. The sentries had barely been able to wake the camp before hell itself descended on them.

A deafening boom split the air.

A brilliant white flare shot skyward, barely piercing the mist—one of the Night Banisher rounds from the canons.

Subaru clenched his teeth. That would help the soldiers rally.

But it would also draw the Whale’s attention.

“Felt!” Subaru screamed as he ran toward where the carriage should be.

His pulse pounded.

His breath burned.

He was lost in the mist.

“Felt! Where are you?!” Subaru called out.

“Come here, boy!”

A firm hand grabbed Subaru roughly from the mist, yanking him to a halt.

Whipping around, he found himself staring at the sharp glint of a sword. Its wielder—Carol—held it with a practiced grip, her aged but sharp eyes scanning the fog-shrouded battlefield.

“Carol?!” Subaru’s gaze flickered to the weapon in her hand, but he shook his head, forcing himself to focus. “Where’s Felt?!”

“Lady Felt is with Grimm and the girls. I am uncertain of their exact location, but the three of them are more than capable of protecting her,” Carol said firmly. “Particularly my beloved husband. Age may have bitten at both of us, but he can hold his own just fine.”

Subaru didn’t share her confidence, but at least Felt wasn’t alone.

From somewhere deep within the mist, a piercing shriek erupted—a cry of pain.

“The Whale…” Subaru’s breath hitched. “It’s over there.”

“Then there’s nothing to do but hunt it, correct?” Carol whistled sharply.

A moment later, Patrasche burst from the fog, nostrils flaring, her sharp eyes locking onto Subaru. The ground rumbled beneath her heavy steps as she came to a sliding halt beside them.

“This one seemed to be looking for someone,” Carol noted, eyeing the earth dragon. “I assumed it must be you. Now mount up. We’re going.”

“The two of us?!” Subaru balked.

Carol scoffed. “Just because I am old and gray does not mean I have forgotten how to fight, Mr. Natsuki.” Her grip on her sword tightened. “I once attended Teresia van Astrea.”

Subaru’s eyes widened. Wilhelm’s wife… the last Sword Saint?

Carol shook her head. “No time for history. Get up there!”

Still dazed, Subaru pulled himself onto Patrasche’s back as Carol swung up behind him, wrapping an arm tightly around his waist.

With a snap of the reins, Patrasche bolted forward, weaving through the chaotic camp, dodging overturned tents and soldiers scrambling toward the Night Banisher’s glow in the sky.

Then, without warning—

The mist twisted.

The ground shook.

A monstrous shadow surged forward.

Subaru barely had time to react before the White Whale came roaring out of the fog, its massive bulk tearing toward them like an unstoppable avalanche of flesh and teeth.

Patrasche moved first.

The earth dragon lunged sideways, narrowly avoiding the beast’s gaping maw.

But the force of the movement sent Subaru and Carol flying from the saddle.

The world spun.

Subaru hit the ground hard, rolling as the breath was slammed from his lungs.

Dazed, he pushed himself up just in time to see—

Carol—hurtling through the air—directly toward the Whale.

Subaru’s heart stopped. She’s dead—!

But mid-air, Carol twisted, shifting her momentum against all logic—

A heartbeat later, she buried her sword deep into the beast’s side.

The White Whale thrashed, a guttural howl splitting the air as blood gushed from the wound.

Carol held on, her grip unshakable, dragging the blade through its thick hide as the beast writhed.

She wasn’t alone.

Subaru’s breath hitched as he spotted another figure moving across the Whale’s massive back.

Wilhelm.

The old swordsman ran along the beast’s spine, his blade carving deep, spilling a crimson trail across its milk-white flesh.

The Whale vanished into the mist, its furious roars reverberating through the night.

Subaru gritted his teeth.

Not yet. I won’t be left behind.

Scrambling to his feet, he swung himself back onto Patrasche’s saddle.

“Go, girl!”

---

Felt was jolted awake as the carriage lurched violently, throwing her off the bench and onto the floor. Groaning, she rubbed the back of her head and glanced around, disoriented. When she turned to the window, all she could see was an impenetrable blanket of mist—so thick she couldn’t make out more than a few feet ahead.

Curious, she pushed herself up and shoved the door open, peering outside. That’s when she heard it—the blood-curdling screech.

Before she could react, someone yanked her out of the carriage. A heartbeat later, the ornate wooden box was obliterated, crushed beneath the sheer weight of a massive beast tunneling through the earth.

“What the hell?!” Felt gasped, pushing herself off the ground where Flam had tackled her.

“Lady Felt, are you alright?” the pink-haired servant asked, her expression tense.

“I’m fine,” Felt muttered, rising to her feet. “Was that thing the White Whale? What the hell just happened?!”

“The mist descended. Sister and I rushed to find you,” Flam explained. “Grandfather should be close.”

Felt scanned the surroundings, and through the thick fog, she spotted two figures approaching. A moment later, the shapes solidified into Grimm and Grassis, both moving quickly toward them.

Reaching back, Felt grasped the familiar hilt of her dagger, her fingers tightening around it as she gave it a quick spin.

“Well, we can’t just stand here,” she said with a smirk.

“We can’t go after the Whale. The plan—” Grassis began.

“The plan is clearly in shambles,” Felt cut in. “Where are Subaru and Rom?”

“Rom went to speak with Crusch. Subaru was still pacing around last I saw him,” Grassis replied.

Felt nodded, her gaze sweeping the area—until something caught her eye. A bright white light flared in the sky.

That’s that night banisher thing Crusch mentioned bringing…

“I suppose heading toward that thing is the most logical choice,” she said. The distant screams and the ominous rumbling of the Whale moving through the mist made her skin crawl—this was far from a battle she’d call a winning one.

Her eyes flicked to Grimm, and she was momentarily stunned to see the old man holding an oversized shield—easily taller than her—with the Remendis family coat of arms emblazoned across it. She opened her mouth to ask where in the world he had been hiding something that massive, but before she could speak, a high-pitched whine sliced through the air, sending agony lancing through her skull.

Felt collapsed, clutching her ears, trying to block out the unbearable noise.

It was like something was scrambling her brain, drilling into her thoughts. The pain was so intense that, for a fleeting moment, she considered smashing her head against the ground just to make it stop.

Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it,  stop it, stop it, stop it!

She retched the sensation like rusty nails being dragged through her mind. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the torment vanished.

Dazed, Felt lifted her head—and found Ferris standing over her.

"W-What happened?" Felt muttered, rubbing her temple as she looked around. The thick mist had thinned considerably, revealing the remnants of an army scattered around her.

"No time," Ferris said briskly, already moving to tend to another fallen soldier.

"Felt," a familiar voice called. She turned to see Rom standing over her.

"What happened?" she asked, still disoriented. "Where are Grimm and the twins?"

"They dragged you back here after the sounds started," Rom explained. "They insisted on staying to watch over you, but I convinced them to go help with the fight against the Whale. They’re no good to anyone just standing around in the assembly area."

Felt shook off the lingering fog in her mind. "Where’s Subaru?"

Rom pointed toward the battlefield. Following his gaze, Felt saw flashes of lightning splitting the sky and torrents of fire raging in the distance. Somewhere in that chaos—her big brother was fighting.

Biting her lip, she pushed herself to her feet. "We can’t just stand here! We need to—"

Rom grabbed her arm before she could charge forward. "It’s too dangerous," he warned. "You’ll just get in the way. The others will be more concerned about protecting you than fighting the Whale."

"That’s bullshit!" Felt snapped. "Subaru’s never been that much stronger than me! Even after a month under that clown, there’s no way he should be throwing himself into a fight against the White Whale!"

Rom frowned, his expression troubled. "I don’t know about that. Subaru’s not the same as he was a few days ago. His whole demeanor changed between the Palace and when he showed up in my room."

Felt crossed her arms, scowling. "Sure, he’s acting a little weird, but what does that have to do with him risking his life like an idiot?"

"It’s more than that, kid," Rom said grimly, eyes locked on the battlefield as another bolt of lightning split the sky. "Crusch was right—Subaru shouldn’t have been able to make that sword, yet he did. Roswaal never taught him anything like that. I was watching. So how did Subaru learn these tricks? And while I believe he truly can’t share everything he knows about the attack on Arlam, it’s like... he’s seen it before. Like he remembers it."

Felt scoffed. "You’re talking crazy, old man. That’s—" She faltered, glancing toward the battle. "That is crazy… right?"

Rom stroked his chin, deep in thought. "I have a few theories. None of them are good."

Felt narrowed her eyes. "You’re not about to turn into Reinhard and tell me to ditch him again, are you? Sure, I was mad about the whole spying thing, but I already changed my mind. Don’t you dare tell me we should push big bro away again!"

Rom shook his head. "No, nothing like that. It’s just… odd. He knows things he shouldn’t. Like how he remembered eight scouting parties when I only recalled three. A moment later, the Whale attacked. I think he was right—the other five must’ve been erased from everyone’s memories. Everyone except Subaru."

Felt stared at him, incredulous. "How is that even possible?"

"I don’t know," Rom admitted, "but it means Subaru must have some kind of connection to the magic the Whale uses. That kind of thing isn’t normal. If I remember correctly, the Whale is tied to the Witch of Gluttony." His voice darkened. "And that’s more than a little concerning."

The implication that Subaru might have some unknown connection to one of the long-dead Witches was deeply unsettling. Felt instinctively glanced around, checking for eavesdroppers. Fortunately, most of the soldiers nearby were too preoccupied with their injuries to pay attention to their conversation.

“We should talk about this later,” Felt murmured. “Somewhere else.”

Rom nodded. “For now, we should move up. Crusch is with the rest of her men, coordinating the cannons. I can help with the planning now that you’re awake.”

Felt crossed her arms. “What, afraid I’d wake up and do something reckless?”

“Yes,” Rom replied without hesitation.

Typical.

---

Leading the White Whale away from the camp had been a challenge in itself. Fortunately for Subaru, the Iron Fang seemed just as crazy as he was. The moment they heard the beast tearing through the camp, they charged in without hesitation, engaging the monster head-on.

Seizing the moment, Subaru found Ricardo and urged him to help steer the creature away from the Flugel Tree.

Bracing himself, Subaru embraced his mana, waiting as Carol leapt onto Patrasche’s back and Wilhelm landed on the ground. Then, with a wicked smirk, he poured his energy into the blade.

The familiar tug-of-war began—the blade hungrily pulling at his mana, demanding more. It was intense but expected. Without hesitation, Subaru launched himself from Patrasche’s saddle, soaring into the air.

Gazing down at the White Whale, he smiled.

You’re in my way.

Die.

With a single slash of his blade, a jet of fire erupted toward the massive beast. A moment later, flames engulfed half its enormous body, licking hungrily at its flesh.

From there, it became a battle of attrition—a test of endurance. Would the attack party fall first, or would the White Whale finally succumb?

As it ascended, the massive beast seemed to shake off the flames. Its flesh was raw and scorched, but all Subaru had managed to do was enrage it.

Frowning, Subaru landed, watching as the creature rose higher and higher into the sky.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he muttered, smirking.

With a flick of his wrist, he ignited the blade once more. Sparks crackled along its length before a bolt of lightning erupted from the tip, arcing toward the beast’s underbelly. The strike landed with a deafening crack, and with a sickening cry, the White Whale plummeted. The ground shook as it crashed, sending a towering plume of dust into the air.

“This is far too easy,” a voice to his left declared.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Wilhelm approaching, twin swords gleaming in his hands.

“Easy?” Subaru scoffed. “I think half the army just got wiped out.”

“The surprise attack was brutal, yes,” Wilhelm admitted, “but now that we have it engaged, it’s not nearly as dangerous as it seemed. To think this beast once killed my w—”

A bone-chilling scream cut Wilhelm off.

The sound was unbearable—like fingernails raking across a chalkboard, but amplified a hundredfold. Subaru flinched as the piercing wail drilled into his skull. Around him, several members of Iron Fang collapsed, writhing in pain. The stronger fighters held their ground, though their grimaces betrayed the toll it was taking on them.

“What the hell is that?!” Subaru shouted, shaking his head to clear the ringing. Nearby, a soldier clawed at his ears, blood trickling between his fingers.

“It’s some kind of attack from the Whale!” Wilhelm called out.

Without thinking, Subaru swung his blade, sending a sharp gust of wind slicing toward the monster. The attack landed but only made the creature wail louder. The sound hit Subaru like a physical force, making him stagger.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself forward.

“Hit it now!” he bellowed.

---

“It’s split into three,” Felt muttered, blinking to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

“This isn’t good. Not good at all,” Crusch grimaced. “At least they managed to lure it far enough away to give us some breathing room.”

“But that means your cannons are useless now,” Rom said, surveying the battlefield. He watched the distant struggle for a long moment before exhaling sharply.

“Well, we should move them forward and blast that thing to hell!” Felt grumbled.

“Most of the canons are in shambles, I only have a handful left. They’re being held in reserve to protect the wounded. Same for myself,” Cursch cursed at the situation she’d found herself in.

“They won’t be able to kill it even if you had all of them in good order,” Rom admitted, “but they might serve as a good distraction.” He paused before adding, “However, if you want to take it down for good, I have a suggestion.”

“What might that be?” Crusch asked, scrutinizing him.

“We have a big stick,” Rom smirked. “If you don’t mind sacrificing an ancient landmark, we could crush the Whale with the Flugel Tree.”

Crusch raised an eyebrow. “An interesting idea, but there are three White Whales. We can’t take them all down with a single tree.”

“True, but it’s unlikely that all three are real,” Rom pointed out. He gestured toward the battlefield. “Notice anything?”

Felt squinted, trying to make sense of the flashes of light and the distant figures struggling against the monstrous forms.

“They’re taking turns harassing our attack party,” Crusch observed, her gaze sharpening.

“Yes, but one is staying just out of range,” Rom said. He pointed upward. “That one. High in the sky.”

“You think that’s the real one?” Crusch asked, studying it.

“It would make sense,” Rom replied, his expression dark with certainty.

“So, we need to lure that thing here?” Crusch frowned. “The staging area is near the tree—so are the wounded. Not to mention those still scattered in the remains of the camp.”

“They’ll be fine if we fell the tree on the north side,” Rom said firmly. “It’s just a suggestion. We might be able to take it down without this tactic, but the death toll will only rise.”

Crusch nodded. “Then we’ll do it. I’ll get everything into position.” She gave Rom a pointed look. “I have a few questions about you, but they can wait. For now, let’s move.”

“Who’s going to tell Subaru and the others about this plan?” Felt asked, shifting uneasily as the Earth Dragon, Kettle, fidgeted beneath her.

“You’re pretty agile. Might be the perfect job for you,” Crusch smirked.

“No. Too dangerous,” Rom objected immediately.

But Felt only grinned. “Well, you heard her. Good luck, old man!”

With a quick flick of the reins, she urged Kettle forward. The dragon bolted.

“Hey! Slow down! I said—ahhhhhhh!”

---

Subaru was panting, his chest heaving with exhaustion. He’d been pouring his mana reserves into attack after attack, desperately trying to bring down this damned thing. When the Whale had split into three, he’d thought he was losing his mind. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who had noticed the change.

The creature’s eyes had turned a deep, menacing red, and its aggression had skyrocketed. If the twins and Grimm hadn’t arrived when they did, Subaru was certain they’d have been overwhelmed by now.

He had barely avoided death moments ago—too focused on igniting one of the Whales in front of him, he hadn’t noticed another barreling toward him from behind. For a split second, he thought it was over—that he’d be swallowed whole, forced to loop back to that damned study.

Then, with a deafening clang, a thick metal shield stopped the beast dead in its tracks. A heartbeat later, Flam and Grassis slammed into the creature’s ribs with enough force to send it skidding across the air before it thrashed its way back into the sky.

Subaru barely had time to process the save before he was already leaping onto another Whale, dragging his white-hot blade across its flesh.

This relentless cycle continued—dodging, rolling, leaping on and off the monstrous creatures, striking where he could. He knew they were being worn down. Grimm was blocking attack after attack, but even he had limits. Eventually, someone would get caught.

Then, over the chaos, a voice cut through the battle.

“My Lady, what madness would drive you to come here?!” Carol shouted, her breath ragged but no less scolding.

Subaru spun sharply, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Felt, looking half-terrified, half-sick as she rode toward them atop her teal-colored earth dragon.

Felt?! What in the name of the Dragon is she doing here?!

“Oh, I feel sick,” Felt groaned before sliding off the back of her mount, nearly collapsing.

“Grassis, get her out of here! Drag her back if you must!” Carol ordered.

“Don’t you dare!” Felt shot back immediately.

“She’s in charge now, Grandmother,” Grassis reminded Carol, scanning the battlefield to make sure none of the three Whales were descending on them. For now, the Iron Fang was keeping them at bay.

“I won’t be long,” Felt said, looking straight at Subaru. “Rom said to draw the Whale to the north side of the tree.”

“ Which one?! ” Subaru snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed—there are three of them!”

As if to prove his point, one of the Whales locked onto their position. Without hesitation, Subaru reached into his dwindling mana reserves, summoning a crackling stream of lightning that surged through the air. The bolt exploded against the beast’s neck, sending it spiraling toward Wilhelm.

“It’s not safe here, Felt!” he scolded.

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed. “Just get that one up there to follow you—the others don’t matter.”

Subaru blinked, frowning. “ That one?”

He followed her gaze and, for the first time, noticed the Whale that was hanging back behind the others.

His eyes widened.

How the hell did I miss that?

The other two were decoys—distractions meant to keep the real one out of danger. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied fighting them, he would have realized it sooner.

“I see where this is going,” he muttered.

“As do I. Now, Grassis, get her out of here before she gets herself killed!” Carol pleaded.

Nodding, Grassis grabbed Felt by the collar and hauled her back onto the Earth Dragon’s saddle.

“Ya know, I can just waaaaaaalk!” Felt shouted as Kettle snorted before tearing back toward the Flugel Tree. “Kettle, slow down! Aaaaaaaaah! ”

Carol let out a sigh before turning back to the chaos unfolding around them. “Any ideas, young man?”

“A few,” Subaru admitted, whistling as Patrasche trotted up to him. “None of them are fun.”

He swung himself into the saddle. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I might get myself killed trying this, but I don’t have any better ideas.”

As they rushed toward the others, Subaru glanced at Carol. “I need you to get Wilhelm. Tell him to meet me and Ricardo.”

Carol nodded before leaping off Patrasche’s back. Subaru blinked as she glided effortlessly through the air toward Wilhelm, who was in the middle of carving out one of the fake Whale’s eyes. Right—questions about that can wait.

Patrasche nimbly weaved through the broken battlefield as Subaru closed in on the Iron Fang. Two of the triplets were using their piercing screams to drive back one of the fake Whales, their exhaustion plain on their faces. Subaru could relate. They were holding up better than he expected, but at this rate, they’d all be drained before the fight was over.

“Ricardo!” Subaru called out.

The wolf-man turned, breathing heavily as he slashed at the air with his oversized sword. “Forge Master! How much do you have left in the tank? These bastards just don’t wanna die.”

“I’m nearly out of mana,” Subaru admitted. “Listen—I saw you launching a few of the Iron Fang earlier with that sword of yours. How high do you think you could send two people?”

Ricardo blinked. “What?” He barely had time to dodge a sweeping pass from the fake Whale before looking back at Subaru. “What exactly do you need, Forge Master?”

Subaru pointed upward. “Can you launch Wilhelm and me up there ?”

Ricardo followed his gaze—and for the first time, noticed the real White Whale, hovering far above the battlefield. His ears perked up as he bared his fangs. “Well, hell. Didn’t even see that bastard.” Then his confusion morphed into a smirk. “You need me to get you up there? Consider it done.”

Right on cue, Wilhelm landed gracefully on Patrasche’s back.

“Carol filled me in,” the swordsman said, sheathing one of his blades. “So these two are just decoys? What a nasty trick.”

“Hurry up, you two! Before this thing gets wise!” Ricardo barked.

Without hesitation, Wilhelm leapt from Patrasche’s back. Ricardo pivoted, using the flat of his massive blade to launch the old man skyward.

Subaru gritted his teeth. Well, no turning back now. He kicked off, following Wilhelm’s trajectory.

He’d never done anything like this before. He had no idea how—or if—this would even work. But at this point? He was just winging it.

Launched into the air like a missile, Subaru's eyes stung as the rush of wind battered his face. Days ago, this would have been terrifying. But after dying in so many gruesome ways—especially at his hands—this felt almost tame.

As his ascent slowed, he realized just how good Ricardo’s aim had been. He’d have to buy the guy a drink… or ten.

Wilhelm was already on the Whale when Subaru landed, panting as he finally exhaled the breath he'd been holding.

“So, we’re here. What’s the plan—beyond gutting this bastard?” Wilhelm asked, though his grip on his sword made it clear he was barely restraining himself from doing just that.

“Well,” Subaru said, pointing toward the massive silhouette of the Flugel Tree, “we piss it off, then lure it over to the north side—just like Rom wanted.”

“And then?” Wilhelm asked, eyes narrowing.

“Felt didn’t say,” Subaru admitted, “but if I know the old man…” He eyed the looming tree. “I think he’s planning to use it like a giant club.”

Wilhelm smirked. “So, we need to drag this thing down, get it in position, and then?”

“Then I get on Patrasche and pray we’re fast enough—and that this thing is pissed off enough to chase us.” Subaru grinned. “So, after you.”

“With pleasure,” Wilhelm said, his smirk widening.

In a flash, Wilhelm's blade dug deep into the White Whale’s flesh as he dashed across its back, carving a blazing path along its length.

The beast howled in agony, thrashing violently in midair. Subaru staggered but steadied himself. He had his task.

Sprinting toward its head, he gathered the last of his mana into the blade, the weapon glowing white-hot in his hands. The Whale twisted and bucked beneath him, nearly throwing him off several times, but Subaru pressed forward, teeth clenched.

Then, with one final push, he leaped—driving the blade straight into the monster’s forehead, just above its horn.

The effect was immediate. The flesh around the wound sparked and cracked, splitting under the intense heat. The White Whale let out a wretched, ear-splitting scream—a sound so piercing that Subaru’s ears rang like a struck bell.

But he had no time to stop.

Wrenching the blade free, he sprinted forward, balancing on the creature’s massive head. Fighting through the pain, he dashed along the length of its horn before launching himself off the beast, diving toward the ground.

My mana should draw it like a moth to a flame. After all, I’m the one making it suffer.

Summoning what little strength he had left, Subaru slashed his blade mid-air, sending a pulse of wind beneath him. The force kicked up a thick cloud of dust and slowed his descent just enough for him to tuck into a rough roll upon impact.

It wasn’t a soft landing. But he’d had worse.

Whistling sharply, he prayed Patrasche was nearby.

To his relief, the earth dragon rushed toward him without hesitation. Grabbing hold of her saddle, Subaru swung himself onto her back, flicked the reins, and turned his gaze skyward.

The White Whale was barreling after him, its cries splitting the air as it twisted in pursuit.

Somewhere on its back, Wilhelm was still carving into the beast, slicing deep into its flesh. The Whale thrashed violently, determined to crush Subaru under its wrath. Whenever it got too close, Subaru slashed his blade again, sending bolts of lightning crackling toward its bloodshot eyes.

Just a bit further!

Patrasche pushed hard, galloping across the battlefield with unwavering determination. By some miracle, Subaru had managed to lead the White Whale exactly where he needed it—straight toward the north side of the Flugel Tree .

He still didn’t know exactly what Rom had planned… but the moment they crossed the threshold, Subaru spotted flashes of light at the base of the towering landmark.

His breath caught.

To his right, the cannons fired in unison, followed by bursts of magic from the mages stationed near the tree.

A deep, ominous groan rumbled through the air.

Subaru’s eyes went wide.

“ Wilhelm, move! ” he bellowed.

The swordsman must have realized what was happening in the same instant. With a final slash, he leapt from the Whale’s back, spinning through the air before landing with practiced grace.

And then—

With an earth-shaking crash , the Flugel Tree came toppling down.

The White Whale had no time to escape.

The ancient behemoth of a tree smashed into the creature, splintering its bones and silencing its cries in a thunderous impact.

Subaru shielded his face as a massive cloud of dust and a violent blast of air swept over him. Gritting his teeth, he panted hard, his body trembling from exertion. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he slashed his blade through the air, clearing the lingering debris around himself and Wilhelm.

As the dust settled, Subaru’s gaze snapped forward.

The White Whale was still alive.

It lay trapped beneath the fallen Flugel Tree, its massive body twitching, its breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. A deep, guttural groan rumbled from its throat, but its movements were sluggish—weak. It could no longer fight.

"It’s still alive?" Subaru muttered, barely believing it.

"Not for long," Wilhelm said, his voice calm, resolute.

Without hesitation, the old swordsman strode forward. Subaru watched as Wilhelm leapt onto the monster’s massive head, standing tall above its large, bloodshot red eyes.

The creature shuddered beneath him.

Wilhelm exhaled slowly. Then, his voice cut through the silence like steel.

"This… is for my wife—Theresia van Astrea."

With a final, savage slash, Wilhelm’s blade carved deep.

Subaru watched as the White Whale let out one last, shuddering breath—

And then, at last—

It died.

Chapter 19: ARC 2 - Chapter 9: Mine, Mine, Mine

ARC II

---

Chapter XI:

Mine, Mine, Mine

---

“How many casualties?” Subaru asked, his voice hollow as he surveyed the desolate battlefield.

Now that morning had come, the full extent of the destruction was laid bare before him. The camp was in ruins—broken earth, shattered carts, and the bloodstained remnants of a brutal battle.

Crusch had gathered the commanders together in the aftermath of the White Whale’s defeat. Around the table stood Rom, Subaru, Felt, and Ricardo, while the rest of the army searched the camp for survivors—or the bodies of the fallen.

“We’re not entirely sure,” Crusch admitted, shaking her head. “The Whale’s ability to erase memories complicates things. But from what we can tell, around a quarter of our forces are dead, and half of those who remain are unfit to fight.”

Subaru’s frown deepened as he glanced toward the assembly area. Those still able-bodied were loading the wounded into the few remaining carts. If they had been in formation—if they had been ready —they might have been able to take the Whale down with far less bloodshed.

You could always…

No.

Subaru clenched his jaw, shaking his head. The thought of resetting gnawed at him. If he went back too far, there was no guarantee he could change the outcome—or even reach this point again.

Guilt twisted in his gut.

How many people am I leaving to die? Is it fair to sacrifice the lives of those I could have saved—just to protect my sanity?

Am I even sane any more?

The more he dwelled on it, the worse the weight in his chest became.

Forcing himself back to the present, he turned his attention to the map Crusch had spread across the table. “How many soldiers can you spare for Arlam?” he asked.

“The wounded need to be taken back to the capital,” Crusch sighed, exhaustion lining her features. “I can maybe offer an eighth of our original force. Even that is more than I’d like to part with.”

“The Iron Fang only lost two members,” Ricardo said. “We’ll all be heading to Arlam.”

Subaru frowned. “Not ideal. Our numbers are thin, and everyone is exhausted.”

His own mana reserves were spent . In previous loops, he had been able to take down most of the Fingers himself—he knew where to find them—but in his current state, he doubted he could even manage one.

“When do you expect the Cult to attack?” Crusch asked, arms crossed.

“Late afternoon. Close to five o’clock,” Subaru answered, tapping the map. “They’re waiting for Puck to be removed from play. But they’re scattered.” He grabbed a quill and began marking locations in red ink. “Sloth can transfer his spirit between hosts—his ‘Fingers,’ as he calls them. Most of them are gathered here .” He pointed. “The rest are here, here, and here .”

Rom studied the map for a long moment before turning his sharp gaze on Subaru. “So, we need to kill all of these Fingers?”

“Yes,” Subaru confirmed grimly. “But… there’s another complication.” He hesitated, then frowned. “I have a plan to deal with it, but I’ll need someone strong by my side.”

“I might be of assistance if it’s strength you require.”

A new voice cut through the discussion.

Subaru and the others turned to see a lilac-haired knight approaching. For a moment, Subaru didn’t recognize him—but then it clicked. He had seen this man before, back at the palace, standing beside Anastasia.

Julius Juukulius. Her knight. 

“Anastasia mentioned you might be joining us,” Crusch said, her expression dark. “It would have been beneficial if you had been here for the battle.”

“I was with the other half of the Iron Fang, blocking the road,” Julius explained. “I hadn’t imagined the devastation would be this severe.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Rom sighed. “The majority of the casualties happened the moment the Whale attacked. Julius couldn’t have prevented that. Maybe we could have killed it sooner, but that wouldn’t have brought the dead back.”

Subaru nodded. Dwelling on the past was useless—for everyone save him that was.

How many will remain dead because of you?

Shut up.

“I have a question,” Felt spoke up. “Subaru, how do you know where all these Fingers are? You never explained that.”

Subaru tensed. “I can’t say.”

“Can’t say or don’t know?” Ricardo probed.

“Can’t say,” Subaru repeated firmly.

“Well, he believes he’s unable to tell us,” Crusch observed, eyeing him curiously. “Odd. Either way, the information is vital. I don’t have time to interrogate Subaru right now. If we know where the Cultists are, eliminating them will be much simpler.”

Subaru forced himself to relax, though he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. A glance confirmed it—Rom was studying him intently, his sharp gaze filled with quiet calculation.

It was as if the old man were piecing together a puzzle.

For my sake, I hope you figure it out…

Just not at the cost of your life.

“So, we go in and kill these cult guys? That’s the plan?” Felt asked, arching an eyebrow. “Seems simple.”

“We need to evacuate the villagers before we attack,” Crusch said firmly. “We can use the spare carts that aren’t being used for the wounded.”

“We don’t have enough,” Subaru frowned. “Even with the ones already in town, it won’t be enough to move everyone.”

“There’s a band of merchants camped at the fork in the road,” Julius interjected. “We might be able to hire their wagons to help transport the villagers.”

“Do it,” Crusch ordered without hesitation.

“That still leaves the issue of those at the manor,” Rom pointed out. “If we show up in force and start rounding up the villagers, it might not go over well.”

“I can go to the manor and explain everything,” Subaru offered, studying the map.

“It would be better if someone else went,” Rom countered. “You’re the only one who knows exactly where the Cultists are. You need to be here helping to coordinate the attack. Felt should go.”

“ Me?! ” Felt shot back. “You and Subaru are the ones who stayed there—why are you sending me ?”

“You’re the most senior member who isn’t needed for the battle,” Rom explained. “I’ll be with Crusch, organizing the attack. Subaru and Julius will be dealing with the Fingers.”

“You’re just trying to sideline me!” Felt snapped.

“It does make the most sense,” Crusch pointed out.

Felt looked thoroughly put out but crossed her arms with a huff, grumbling under her breath.

Subaru suppressed a sigh. He wasn’t sure how delicately she’d handle things with the maids and Emilia, but he had faith she’d manage. Besides, Carol would be with her—if Felt veered off track, the old woman would rein her in.

“Circling back,” Subaru said, crossing his arms. “Some of those merchants are members of the Witch’s Cult.”

“What?” Julius blinked. “You’re remarkably well-informed. A shame you’re not telling us how you know all of this.”

“I’d rather we not tread old ground,” Crusch interjected bluntly. “He can’t tell us. We can speculate on the how and why all we want, but it won’t get us anywhere. The real question is—do you know which merchants?”

Subaru nodded. “One of them. A man named Ketty Muttart—he’s one of Sloth’s Fingers. As for the others, I don’t know their exact identities. What I do know is that they have explosives. It would be best if we dealt with them before taking them to the village.”

“That would be wise,” Rom agreed. “So, we bring them here… but how do we identify the others?”

“Simple,” Crusch said smoothly. “We line them up, and I’ll question them one by one. If they refuse to answer or lie to me, they’re Cultists.”

“Easy enough,” Subaru muttered, though his mind lingered on how useful— or dangerous —her Divine Protection was. If he ever needed to lie to Crusch, it would be impossible . Even avoiding an answer could be an admission in itself. In this case, it worked in his favor… but that might not always be the case.

“What do we do with the Cultists when we find them?” Felt asked.

“Kill them,” Subaru said flatly.

Felt blinked, taken aback. “That’s… a little dark,” she muttered. “I mean, yeah, the Cult is bad and all, but outright executing them?”

“They’re not to be reasoned with,” Ricardo chimed in, his tone grim. “I have to agree with Subaru. These fanatics would kill small children without a second thought. Once they’re exposed, they’ll turn hostile.”

It seemed the decision had been made. Felt still looked conflicted, but Subaru had zero sympathy for any member of the Cult. He had seen firsthand what they could do—what they would do.

“Very well,” Crusch said. “Ricardo, I’ll leave it to you to bring the merchants here. As for the rest of you, I advise you to rest while you can. We’ll be moving out soon.”

Subaru gave a small nod before walking off in search of a place to lay down.

He would need every ounce of strength for what was to come.

---

Julius sat atop Shaknar, his mount moving steadily as he rode alongside Subaru. It was early afternoon, and the forest around them was eerily quiet.

After the main column had split, he and Subaru had broken off toward their assigned target. Ricardo led another attack party, while Wilhelm and Ferris took the third.

Subaru had made it clear—their task was the most dangerous.

They were to confront the Sin Archbishop of Sloth himself.

The battle plan was simple. All three groups would attack their respective targets simultaneously. However, Subaru and Julius would be the last to act. According to Subaru, the Fingers would be far easier to kill if Sloth was still alive. The moment they killed the Archbishop, his spirit would possess one of his followers, essentially granting him another life.

The thought made Julius’s skin crawl.

But the opportunity to eliminate one of the most dangerous figures within the Witch’s Cult? That was a mission he had no reservations about.

Even so, he found himself questioning the young man riding beside him.

Subaru Natsuki was an enigma.

As far as Julius knew, he was a mere commoner. Not that he had anything against commoners—after all, he himself had once been one. But according to Anastasia, Subaru had managed to craft an enchanted weapon.

Ricardo had briefed him on the battle against the White Whale, and if the Captain of the Iron Fang was to be believed, Subaru had played an instrumental role in its defeat. So much so that Ricardo claimed he was second only to Wilhelm in the amount of damage inflicted—thanks in no small part to that mysterious enchanted sword.

“I got him to agree to make us two enchanted weapons. I can only imagine what someone like you could do with a blade like that,” Anastasia had told him.

Julius observed Subaru. How had a complete unknown—someone who had appeared out of nowhere just before the Royal Selection—managed to become so capable, yet remained so obscure?

It was a mystery. One Julius fully intended to unravel… when the time was right.

A sudden chime from Subaru’s pocket drew his attention.

Reaching down, Subaru opened a small golden locket—the glow of a Conversation Mirror shimmering in his palm.

“Nyaa~ I always enjoy using these things,” Ferris’s voice purred through the mirror. “We’re all finished up here! I already spoke with the others, and they’re all set, too.”

“Any casualties?” Subaru asked immediately.

“Nyaa~ oh, nothing more than a few scratches,” Ferris chuckled. “You two in position?”

“Yeah,” Subaru muttered, exchanging a look with Julius. “We’ll contact you when we’ve dealt with… Sloth.” His jaw tightened around the word.

“Tah-tah~!” Ferris said before the mirror went dark.

Julius noted the tension in Subaru’s posture, the way his fingers curled into fists.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Subaru said bluntly. “Let’s just get this over with. And don’t forget what I told you about his Unseen Hands.”

“Well, you are the expert,” Julius replied dryly.

As they approached the clearing, both dismounted, moving cautiously. Ahead of them, carved into the cliffside, was an old, abandoned temple—its entrance worn by time, its presence ominous.

Julius narrowed his eyes, drawing his sword. Something about this place felt wrong.

Taking a steady breath, he called upon his contracted spirits. Ia was the first to answer his summons, followed quickly by Kua, Aro, Iku, In, and finally Nes. A familiar warmth filled him as their presence settled around him. It was always a pleasure to call upon his contracted friends.

He smirked. “Are you sure you don’t want to use Nect?” he asked, resting a hand on his hip. “You need to conserve your strength to finish off the Archbishop.”

Subaru frowned. “I don’t like the idea of having someone else in my head.”

Julius sighed. “It doesn’t work like that. We share senses, not thoughts. Though, if I could poke around in that mind of yours, I’d be very interested. You are a bit of an enigma.”

Subaru looked torn, muttering to himself before exhaling sharply. “You’d probably get yourself killed unless I burned the rest of my mana… which would completely screw up my plan.”

He grimaced. “I was hoping to think of something better than Nect, but I guess it’s our best option. Speaking of which—let’s make this quick. Catch.”

Before Julius could react, Subaru tossed something toward him.

He instinctively reached out, catching the hilt of a blade.

Julius blinked, looking down at the weapon. It thrummed in his grip, the energy within it pulsing in time with his mana.

“…You’re giving me your blade?” he asked, surprised.

“Believe me, I’d love to be the one to blow that man away,” Subaru muttered. “But I used up too much mana fighting the White Whale. If my plan is going to work, I need to save some energy. Leaving an enchanted weapon on the sidelines would just be stupid.”

Julius gave the sword a test swing—only to feel a sharp pull on his mana. His stomach churned at the sensation.

“What the—?” He frowned. “It’s draining my mana.”

“Yeah, they do that,” Subaru said with a shrug. “It’s like casting spells—if you don’t focus, it’ll eat up more than you intend. Just use it to blow up the temple and take out the Fingers inside. From there, you just have to deal with Sloth.” He paused. “Mind the hands.”

Julius studied the weapon, rolling his wrist as he adjusted to its weight. “Tricky thing,” he murmured. “Interesting that you could use it so effectively… I’d think it would take some practice, even for its creator.”

Subaru snorted. “I’ve had practice with this sort of thing before. Besides, the tug-of-war is a hell of a lot harder when you’re making the damn thing.” He gave Julius a pointed look. “You’re a magic user—you should know that.”

“Spirit users are different,” Julius corrected. “My contracted spirits do most of the heavy lifting. I’m just a conduit for their power. I imagine it’s much different for someone who relies on their own mana.”

Subaru gave a small nod before rolling his shoulders. “Enough idle chatter,” he said. His expression hardened. “Let’s get this over with.”

Emerging from the underbrush, Subaru and Julius strode into the open.

Julius placed a hand on Subaru’s shoulder, casting Nect . He closed his eyes for a brief moment as the spell took effect, allowing him to see through Subaru’s vision. The sensation was always strange—the sudden shift in perspective left him slightly queasy, but the discomfort passed after a few moments.

“Don’t wait—just blow the temple away,” Subaru ordered.

“Very well.”

Julius lifted his hand, calling upon Ia and Aro.

“ Ul Gola !”

A spark ignited, and a heartbeat later, the temple's entrance erupted in flames. A firestorm consumed the cavern’s mouth, the inferno roaring with such intensity that the flames licked around them. For a moment, Julius thought that if the Archbishop had been inside, he must have been reduced to cinders.

Then, barely half a second later—

A dozen oily black hands burst from the cave, lunging toward them.

Julius leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the first wave. He swung Subaru’s blade in a flash as he sliced through several of the hands reaching for his legs.

A voice slithered through the smoke.

“Ohhh… you tried to burn us out, did you?”

A figure emerged from the inferno.

A man with sickly green skin and moss-like hair stepped forward, draped in the black robes of the Witch’s Cult. His lips twisted into something between a sneer and a grin.

“You killed some of my Fingers,” he mused, his tone both sing-song and mournful. “How terrible. How awful.”

He raised two fingers to his mouth and bit down—hard—until blood spilled freely down his arm.

“How vile, how terrible, how rude, rude, rude!” His head twitched, jerking unnaturally. “Have you no decency? No honor? Are you just here to kill, kill, kill, kill?!”

Then, with a sudden, sickening smile, his eyes widened in something resembling ecstasy.

“I am here on a mission of love—and you do this?” He shuddered, his bloody fingers trembling with excitement. “How terrible, how naughty, how vile!”

The air around them twisted.

“You must not be so eager,” he crooned, his voice dropping to a whisper before twisting into a delighted shriek. “Be slothful! Not wrathful! Please… DIE.”

The oily hands shot forward, lunging for both of them—but Julius was already moving.

His sword carved through the air, severing the grasping appendages before they could reach him. The enchanted blade pulled at his mana, eager to unleash its magic, but for now, he needed only steel .

Sloth’s eyes went wide. His entire body trembled, shaking so violently it seemed unnatural.

“You… you …” His voice pitched higher, a shrill cry of distress . His limbs twitched erratically as he pointed a shaking finger at Julius. “You can see the Unseen ?!”

Julius remained silent, his stance steady.

Sloth convulsed , his mouth twisting as he wiggled in place, his movements erratic and unnatural. “Your eyes are closed , but you see ?! No… NO! ”

His trembling finger redirected.

He pointed at Subaru.

“Yeah, yeah, and your brain trembles,” Subaru deadpanned. “Do me a favor and skip to the part where you drop dead already. Just looking at your ugly mug makes me wanna vomit.”

Sloth froze.

His trembling intensified—before exploding into a raw, visceral scream.

“You… YOU DARE?” His voice cracked with fury.

With manic fervor, he ripped a black book from his robes, flipping through the pages at a frenzied pace. His eyes darted wildly over the text, his lips curling into a deranged grin.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! It’s all here!” His voice quivered with unhinged excitement. “You WILL die! You WILL—”

He stopped.

His hands froze mid-turn, his breath catching in his throat. His entire body stiffened.

A beat of silence.

Then, slowly—his fingers started twitching. His mouth parted, his lips trembling as a whimper escaped.

“…This… this is not in my Gospel.”

His chest heaved, his breath turning shallow and erratic.

“…This is… wrong, wrong, WRONG!” His voice broke as his body contorted.

His entire form snapped backward, bending so unnaturally far that it was as if his spine had been removed. His screams turned to agonized wails.

“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! You must be wrong! You must be false!” His breath came in frantic gasps, his eyes darting in all directions as if trying to rewrite reality itself. “My brain… it… it… it treeeeeeembles!”

And then—his eyes snapped back to them, filled with a renewed, unholy fury.

“You must DIE!” he shrieked, spittle flying from his lips. “I KNOW it! You must both DIE!”

At Sloth’s command, the number of Unseen Hands doubled—tripled—shooting forward like vipers striking for the kill.

Julius didn’t hesitate this time when Subaru’s sword pulled at his mana.

Let’s see how well his craftsmanship melds with my spirits.

“ Al Clarista. ” His voice was calm and composed.

The sword glowed, its metal shimmering in a myriad of colors as his contracted spirits poured their energy into it. The blade hissed and crackled, magic surging through its core. The enchantments within Subaru’s craft twisted and amplified the spell, their combined force far greater than either alone.

Julius swung.

With a single slash, every black hand vanished in an instant.

Before Sloth could even react, Julius surged forward, closing the distance in the blink of an eye.

His next swing—

Turned everything in front of him to ash.

The Archbishop of Sloth was erased from existence.

The fight was over.

“Sever Nect!” Subaru’s voice rang out.

Julius hesitated but did as the Forge Master ordered, breaking the connection between them.

The battlefield fell silent. Julius exhaled, taking a moment to scan the area, ensuring there were no more threats before turning back to his counterpart.

“I wasn’t expecting your weapon to be so…” he trailed off as he turned—

And froze.

Subaru was on the ground.

Convulsing.

His eyes were wide, unblinking, his entire body writhing as though something unseen had taken hold of him.

“Subaru!” Julius rushed to his side, dropping to one knee.

Subaru’s mouth moved, his voice a hollow, frantic whisper.

"Mine… mine… mine… mine… mine…"

Julius felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Then, with one final, ragged breath—

"No… mine ."

Subaru’s body went limp.

---

“Oh, it’s perfect! It’s my body now—such a perfect vessel!”

Petelgeuse’s voice echoed through the abyss that was once Subaru Natsuki’s mind, reverberating like a twisted hymn. He trembled with glee, his gaunt face stretching into a manic grin.

“With this body, I will find love, love, love, love, love!”

“I was expecting you, ya know.”

Petelgeuse froze.

His bulging eyes darted toward the source of the voice—toward Subaru.

“What? You’re still here?” The Archbishop’s body stiffened, his expression twisting in confusion. Then, his voice pitched into a deranged screech. “How?! Why?! Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why?!”

“Because I’ve been here before. Fought this battle before.” Subaru took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. “I lost before. But this time… I’ve got just enough juice left to kick your ass.”

“Ohhh, I see,” Petelgeuse muttered, his voice eerily flat—before his lips curled into a grotesque grin. His eyes bulged wider, bloodshot and wild. “You wish to struggle against me?! How very unslothful! How prideful of you! Foolish, sad, how silly, silly, silly!”

“The last time you were in my head, I noticed something…” Subaru’s tone was calm, but his eyes burned with purpose. He lifted a finger—pointing directly at Petelgeuse’s chest.

The Archbishop blinked. Slowly, he followed Subaru’s gaze downward.

There, writhing just beneath his ribcage, was a pulsating mass of black, ghostly hands. They squirmed, tangled together in a sickening knot, their twisted fingers reaching and curling in endless, silent motion.

Petelgeuse’s grin faltered.

“The boy…” he whispered. His voice trembled with something—not fear, but recognition.

Then his head snapped back, his spine bending at an unnatural angle until his skull cracked against the blackened floor of the mindscape.

“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!” His voice became a discordant shriek. “*You think you can take it?! Absurd! You are not Sloth! You are Pride! You are a fooooooool! Not loved like me! Not loved! No, no, no!”

He convulsed, his entire form trembling, wracked with a twisted sort of ecstasy.

Subaru took another step forward.

“You know…” His voice was quiet. Dangerous. “I bet if I crush that thing, you’ll die. For good.”

Die. Die at last.

Petelgeuse twitched. His mouth curled into something between a sneer and a smirk.

“You wish for me to die? Silly boy, silly! You must give me this body! You have no choice! You are not Sloth! You are nothing but a lowly vessel! A tool for her love! A tool to serve her! Forever and ever and ever and ever!”

Subaru just smiled. “I don’t care.”

Petelgeuse’s expression twisted.

“So…” Subaru’s smirk widened. “Shall we see who’s stronger here?”

“Oh? Such pride… yes, yes! I think you are Pride! I know you are! Too bad!” Petelgeuse howled, his body twitching violently. “You must DIE!”

The Unseen Hands lunged for Subaru.

But he moved.

Rolling low, he dodged the first attack, then the second, closing the distance between them. More and more of the invisible appendages formed, writhing in the air like phantom limbs. They latched onto him, clawing, constricting—trying to crush him.

“You think these will stop me?” Subaru growled, pushing forward. The hands slowed him, but only just.

Petelgeuse’s wild eyes twitched. “Wha—?! You should be—crushed! A ball of meat! HOW?!”

“This isn’t a battle of magic,” Subaru sneered, forcing himself another step closer. “Or power.” Another step. “This is a battle of wills, you insane bastard.”

His grin stretched, his voice dropping to an almost manic whisper. “And I really want you dead.”

Petelgeuse stumbled back, his smirk faltering. His wild eyes flickered with something he had never felt before—fear.

“No, no! You can’t! I won’t let you!”

More Unseen Hands burst forth, lunging to crush Subaru, to wrap around him and twist him into a tangled, broken mess. But he kept moving, pushing through them as if they were nothing more than paper.

“S-Stay back!” Petelgeuse shrieked, his voice cracking. “You are not meant for it! It is mine, mine! A sign of her love! As holy as the Gospel! You can’t take it from me!”

But the hands—his hands—shattered like brittle glass as Subaru barreled through them.

Petelgeuse stumbled again—only to find himself pressed against an invisible wall, trapped in the depths of Subaru’s mind.

“It’s over,” Subaru growled.

With a furious shout, he tackled Petelgeuse to the ground.

The Sin Archbishop thrashed beneath him, screaming, his body writhing like a man possessed—but Subaru didn’t care. He plunged his hand into the Archbishop’s chest, fingers wrapping around the tangled mass of darkness that pulsed and twisted beneath his ribs.

“L-Let it go! No! You can’t take it from me!” Petelgeuse howled, his screams growing frantic. “No, it is mine! A sign of my love! It is all that I am! Stop, stop, stop!”

Subaru wasn’t listening.

He pulled.

Petelgeuse convulsed, his body weakening, his once-manic voice turning to broken, gasping pleas. His skeletal hands shot up, clawing at the mass of writhing darkness, desperate to wrench it back.

“No… I need it! Don’t take my love! I… I need to be… need to be…” His voice grew faint, his limbs trembling. His once-wide, deranged eyes dulled. 

“…Loved…”

With one final yank, Subaru ripped the writhing mass free.

Petelgeuse withered before him, his form shrinking, fading into nothingness.

But before Subaru could even take a breath— 

The mass of darkness latched onto him.

That was the last thing Subaru remembered.

Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he had caught a glimpse of a vague, shadowy figure—its form indistinct, shifting, watching.

And then, just before everything faded to black, he heard a voice.

"Where am I?"

Chapter 20: ARC 2 - Chapter 10: I Lost

ARC II

---

Chapter X:

I Lost

---

Felt was just about done with all this crap.

Upon arriving at the manor, she had been greeted by some pink-haired hothead—a maid named Ram—who had been less than helpful.

Luckily, when Felt had explained the situation, she had been taken straight to Emilia.

Though, maybe it was Carol’s piercing glare that had convinced Ram to cooperate.

Emilia had been shocked to learn that a Cultist army was practically on her doorstep—even more surprised that three different forces had shown up to save her ass.

“I did sense something was amiss,” Emilia admitted, her brow furrowed. “I was anticipating another Witch Beast attack, so I reinforced the barriers around the village. I was worried the villagers wouldn’t take me seriously, but they’d at least been patrolling at night. But… the Witch’s Cult?”

“Subaru’s already taking care of them,” Felt said smugly, crossing her arms. “But we need to get out of the way.”

Emilia frowned. “Why would we run? I’m more than capable of dealing with them myself, you know?”

“It has more to do with the villagers than you, Lady Emilia,” Carol interjected smoothly. “You are the main target. And as we understand it, more Cultists are hiding elsewhere that Mr. Natsuki has not yet identified. They could still cause problems.”

“So, we need to evacuate them?” Emilia asked, worry creeping into her voice.

“Exactly,” Felt confirmed. “The attack is kicking off around three o’clock. We’ve already taken care of a few problems, but we need to move fast.”

“This is all very convenient,” Ram said, her tone sharp with suspicion. She folded her arms, staring down Felt. “You just so happen to arrive in force, and three of the four major camps coincidentally come together to help us? I highly doubt this is out of the goodness of your hearts.”

“Hah! Hardly,” Felt scoffed. “As far as I’m concerned, this is about getting Subaru out of that stupid contract with Roswaal. The other two groups? Subaru bribed them with magic weapons.”

“Magic weapons?” Emilia blinked. “I don’t follow.”

“He can forge enchanted items,” Felt said with a shrug. “I don’t know how he does it. What I do know is that he showed up at my place, breaking down. And after I got over my feelings about the whole mess, I realized something—he’s the only family I have.”

Her voice firmed, her expression unyielding.

“I’d do anything to help him.”

Then, after a pause, Felt let out a sigh.

“…Anyway, he made a deal with Crusch and Anastasia in exchange for their support. And we got to kill the White Whale, so yeah, it’s been quite the last few days.”

Emilia offered a small, understanding smile. “I think I get it now,” she said softly. “So, what exactly is the plan?”

“We’re using some merchants and the few wagons that survived the battle to transport the villagers to the capital,” Felt explained. “We’ll struggle to move everyone , though.”

“Lady Emilia,” Ram spoke up, her tone composed. “Rem and I could take half of the villagers to the Sanctuary , where Lord Roswaal is. They would be safe there for the time being.”

Emilia considered the idea, then nodded. “That could work.”

“Works for us too,” Felt said with a smirk. “We can sort out this contract business once we deal with the actual threat at hand.”

“I do have a question,” Rem piped up suddenly. “Where is Sir Reinhard ? He’d undoubtedly be able to assist with all of this. I’m surprised he hasn’t been mentioned.”

Felt rolled her eyes. “My so-called knight went off to do some task for the council,” she grumbled. “I’m definitely giving him an earful once this is all over.”

“More likely, he will scold you for getting involved in something so dangerous,” Carol said matter-of-factly. “Though I must admit, we have acquitted ourselves nicely thus far.”

Felt muttered something under her breath but didn’t argue the point.

“Well, we should get moving. Is this everyone ? With a house this big, I figured you’d have more people working here.”

“This is everyone,” Rem confirmed. “Sister and I are more than enough to serve Lord Roswaal.”

Felt shrugged. “Alright then— let’s get a move on !”

---

Felt sat in the back of a cart, surrounded by the village kids and Emilia. Flam and Grassis sat near the edge, keeping watch as they looked out over the road behind them.

It had turned out to be a surprisingly nice evening.

Carol and Grimm were driving up front, the cart bumping along the uneven path. Felt idly wondered if they might pass the carcass of the White Whale on their way back.

“Miss Emilia, are we going to be safe?”

The question came from an auburn-haired girl with a bright red bow in her hair.

Emilia offered her a reassuring smile. “We’ll be fine,” she promised. “Subaru seems to have planned for everything.”

The girl nodded, seemingly comforted, before Flam tugged on her arm. “Come on, we’re playing cards,” the pink-haired twin insisted, pulling her over to where the other kids were gathered.

Felt watched them for a moment, reminded that the twins—despite how capable they seemed—were still just kids at the end of the day.

Emilia smiled softly as she watched them play, then turned to Felt. “So… Subaru planned all of this? How did he even know about the Cult’s attack?”

Felt shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. He can’t tell anyone for some reason. If I had to take a guess, I’d say it has something to do with your benefactor.”

“Roswaal?” Emilia frowned. “If he knew about the attack, I don’t think he would have left for the Sanctuary. Besides, he never told us anything, so why would he have told Subaru—who was all the way in the capital?”

“I don’t know,” Felt admitted. “Just a theory. The only reason I can think of for him not being able to talk about it is that stupid contract of his.”

Emilia hesitated, then spoke carefully. “For what it’s worth, Felt… I don’t want to force Subaru to be on my side.” She glanced down, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. “I… like Subaru as a friend. But I don’t want to take him away from his only family.”

Felt studied her, expecting to feel some lingering anger—but it wasn’t real.

A part of her had wanted to resent Emilia. To see her as a threat, someone trying to steal Subaru away. But that wasn’t fair.

Emilia hadn’t made him sign that stupid contract.

She was just as much a victim in all this. Roswaal was causing problems, and she was stuck dealing with the fallout.

Well… as long as I get Subaru free, I guess she’s not all that bad.

“I appreciate that,” Felt said after a moment.

Then, she sighed. “And… for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for being so huffy with you. It’s been a crazy past few months. It wasn’t that long ago that I was depending on Subaru to keep us alive. I was alone for so long before he came along… for the longest time, he was all I had.”

Emilia’s expression softened. “He’s a good person. Maybe a bit rough around the edges,” she admitted with a small smile, “but he cares about people—a lot. You’re lucky to have someone like that in your life.”

Felt huffed, crossing her arms. “Well, he must care about you guys too,” she conceded. “I mean, he’s practically moving mountains over here to help you. I don’t think you do that for just anyone.”

Emilia’s smile lingered, quiet and knowing.

And for the first time, Felt found herself not resenting it.

Just then, a commotion erupted at the front of the wagon.

“Grimm, dear!” Carol’s voice rang out, sharp with urgency.

Felt turned just in time to see the old man leap off the cart, his massive shield swinging off his back as he landed behind them.

A second later—

BOOM!

A fireball slammed against his shield, flames scattering harmlessly across its surface.

The children screamed as Flam and Grassis spun their eyes snapping toward the treeline.

Felt reached back, fingers tightening around the hilt of her dagger as black-robed figures rushed out from the shadows.

“There’s the Cultists Subaru couldn’t pinpoint!” she shouted.

“Lady Felt, stay down!” Carol commanded, her voice firm as she drew her sword. “Grassis, take the reins!”

“What are you—”

Before she could finish, the old woman jumped from the cart, landing beside Grimm, her blade gleaming in the fading light.

Felt clenched her jaw, about to go after them—

But Flam grabbed her wrist, holding her back.

“Lady Felt, you can’t put yourself in danger!” Flam insisted. “Grandmother and Grandfather are more than capable of handling themselves!”

“We should help them!” Emilia declared, already standing.

With a flick of her wrist, she summoned several ice missiles, launching them toward the enemy. The shards struck their targets with a sickening crack, sending a few Cultists crumpling to the ground.

A moment later, the wagon’s defenders wheeled their Earth Dragons around and charged, meeting the oncoming Cultists in battle.

The clash of steel and magic filled the air.

Felt’s heart pounded as she scanned the battlefield. Flam was still looking around, searching for the next threat, but Felt had already made up her mind.

“I agree,” she said at last. “We should help them.”

“Lady Felt, Grandmother said—”

“That you should stay with me—and so you should.” Felt shot her a smirk before turning to Grassis. “Stay with the wagon!”

“I must protest! It’s not safe! You could be killed—or worse, my lady!” Flam said urgently.

Felt didn’t back down.

“That’s my call,” she said firmly. “If I just sit around and do nothing, how can I expect to lead a country?”

She locked eyes with Flam, unyielding.

“Now—will you defy me, or are you going to listen?”

Flam hesitated, clearly torn—

But after a moment, she sighed, releasing the hem of Felt’s shirt with reluctant acceptance.

“Very well,” she relented. “But I’ll be by your side at all times. Let it not be said I didn’t try to dissuade you.”

Felt grinned. “Alright, Ice Queen,” she cracked her knuckles. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Leaping off the back of the wagon, Flam, Emilia, and Felt rushed into the fray. Emilia conjured ice missiles, her hands glowing with chilling energy, while Felt gripped her dagger, using her Divine Protection to launch herself forward like a blur.

To Felt’s surprise, Flam reached the cultists first. The maid moved like a shadow, her hand slicing through the enemy ranks as if wielding an invisible blade.

Felt didn’t hesitate, parrying a dagger strike before slashing across a cultist’s midsection. These robed freaks weren’t strong, but there were a lot of them. The battlefield was a storm of ice and fire, with Emilia’s relentless attacks freezing enemies mid-motion while countering the fireballs flung in their direction.

Even as she fought, Felt couldn't help but wonder—just how strong had Elsa been to take on both Subaru and Emilia at once? Then again, Subaru hadn’t been nearly as strong back then.

A flash of steel caught her eye. A blade arced toward her—

Without thinking, Felt shot upward, using her Divine Protection to propel herself out of harm’s way. Below her, Flam closed the distance in a blink, decapitating the cultist in a single, fluid motion.

"Be more careful, my lady!" Flam huffed, barely sparing her a glance.

"Yeah, yeah—" Felt scoffed, but her words turned into a yelp as Carol’s iron grip seized her ear.

"Oww! Oww, oww—Grimm, help!"

"I believe I made it clear you were not to get involved," Carol scolded, twisting Felt’s ear like a disobedient child.

"We’re more than capable of handling ourselves," Emilia countered, her tone firm as she launched a massive ice blast, cutting through a cluster of enemies and freezing them solid.

Carol sighed and released Felt, crossing her arms. "It was an unnecessary risk. Your lives are too important to gamble foolishly. There will be times when you must fight, but until then, you should let others handle the battle."

"That’s hardly a way to lead," Felt muttered, rubbing her ear.

"Fighting and leading are two different things," Carol corrected, her gaze unwavering. "You still have much to learn, my lady."

Felt scowled but held her tongue.

The battle was winding down. Across the battlefield, earth dragons charged through the remaining cultists, riders cutting them down as they went. A familiar figure approached—Wilhelm, his sword still slick with blood.

"Lady Emilia, Lady Felt," he greeted with a respectful bow.

"Ah, Wilhelm, I take it you bring good news?" Carol asked, her sharp gaze scanning his face.

Wilhelm nodded. "Indeed. Julius has confirmed—the Archbishop is dead."

Felt exhaled in relief—but Wilhelm’s expression didn’t ease.

"However," he continued, "Subaru… collapsed after Sloth was defeated."**

Felt felt her stomach drop.

"Is he alright?!" she and Emilia blurted at the same time—only to flush in unison when they realized it.

Wilhelm, as composed as ever, gave a slight nod. "Ferris is tending to him. Physically, he’s unharmed, but… he won’t wake up. Ferris is taking him—and the other wounded—back to the capital, where more skilled healers can assist."

Emilia’s expression hardened. "I’m coming with you," she said without hesitation. "My people are there too. And Subaru… I owe him so much for today. I need to make sure he’s alright."

Felt watched her, her lips pressing into a thin line. What were Emilia’s feelings toward Subaru?

"Where is your sister?" Carol asked, her sharp gaze locking onto Flam.

Flam glanced around the battlefield, her ears twitching. "She’s with the wagon—ow! Grandmother!" she yelped as Carol swiftly grabbed her ear, twisting it just enough to make her squirm.

"You were supposed to keep Lady Felt safe—not indulge her reckless habits," Carol scolded, her tone cutting. After a moment, she released Flam’s ear with a sigh. "We’ll need to find another wagon."

Felt nodded absentmindedly, barely hearing them. Her mind was elsewhere. She wouldn’t feel at ease until she saw Subaru—awake and safe.

---

Subaru gasped, his eyes snapping open. The feeling of the rocking wagon below him told him they were moving. It was dark out as his eyes flicked around and his gut was unsteady. 

The world around him felt distant—hazy. His body was weak, as if every last drop of mana had been drained from him.

A blurry figure loomed above him. As his vision cleared, he recognized Julius, his sword drawn, expression tense with caution. Beside him, Ferris knelt, watching him closely, his usual teasing demeanor absent.

Subaru shifted, trying to sit up—

The cold press of steel stopped him.

Julius had laid the flat of his blade against Subaru’s chest.

“Which one are you?” Julius asked, his voice steady but edged with wariness.

Subaru blinked. What kind of question is that?

“…I’m me.”

Carefully, he pushed the sword away and sat up fully. His limbs felt like lead, his breath shallow, but he ignored it.

Julius didn’t lower his guard. “How can we be sure?”

Subaru exhaled, shaking his head. “Trust me—that crazy bastard wouldn’t pretend to be anyone else. He’d try to kill you on sight.” His voice was cold. Certain.

Julius studied him for a long moment before finally sheathing his blade. “So, he’s dead, then?”

Subaru nodded.

Julius remained composed, but there was the barest hint of relief in his posture.

“What about the rest of the Cult?” Subaru asked, attempting to stand—

The world lurched. His vision blurred, and his legs gave out beneath him.

Ferris caught him before he collapsed entirely. “Don’t try to get up, stupid!” he scolded, pushing Subaru back down with surprising strength. “Your mana’s completely drained. If you push yourself now, you could do real damage.”

Subaru groaned in frustration but didn’t fight it. The flooring beneath him felt oddly comfortable just then.

Julius let out a slow breath before answering his question. “The Cult attacked when they realized what was happening. We took out the ones that came after us, but another group tried to ambush the villagers fleeing to the capital. Wilhelm and Ricardo handled them.”

Subaru’s brows furrowed. “What about Felt? And the people at the manor?”

“They were with the group heading for the capital,” Julius explained. “Emilia and Felt fought off the Cultists who attacked them. Another group left with the maids—something about a place called Sanctuary?”

Subaru exhaled sharply, tension bleeding from his shoulders.

“Well, that’s good,” Subaru muttered, letting himself fall back against the wagon bench, staring up at the stars. The night sky felt oddly distant—like he was still half in a dream.

“How far are we from the capital?” he asked after a moment.

“Not far,” Ferris sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing now that Subaru was awake. “We’re the last group to arrive. I sent riders ahead to fetch some experts on comas. I tried everything I could think of to wake you up… Honestly, Subaru, you scared me half to death.”

“You were muttering like mad back there,” Julius added, his gaze sharp as he studied Subaru. “For a while, I thought… the Archbishop might have taken over your mind.”

Subaru let out a short breath. Not an entirely unfounded fear.

“He was in my head,” Subaru admitted, shifting so he could lean against the wagon’s side. “I fought him in there—it’s all a little fuzzy, like a dream. But I remember… he withered away.”

“Odd,” Julius murmured, rubbing his chin in thought. “Still, you don’t seem to be possessed.”

“To be safe, we could have Lady Crusch ask him if he’s really Subaru,” Ferris suggested.

Subaru sighed internally. Great. An interrogation from Crusch. But if that’s all it took to ease their concerns, so be it.

Just as he was about to reply, something caught his eye—specifically, the driver of their wagon. Subaru blinked, his groggy mind catching up to what he was seeing.

“…Otto?”

The merchant jolted in his seat, glancing back over his shoulder. “Oh! Uh… yes?”

“You two know each other?” Julius asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Otto said, looking genuinely baffled. “Despite what I just said, which was, indeed, completely true, mind you!”

Subaru froze. Wait.

Shouldn’t Otto still be in the capital looking for me? How did he end up in Arlam?

Quickly, he pieced it together. “Ram told me she hired a merchant to take me back to the manor… I assumed that was you.”

“Ohhh, yeah. Thanks for that,” Otto huffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I spent an entire day combing the capital for you! And guess what I found out? Some guy named Conrad tells me, ‘Oh, Subaru? Yeah, he left with Duchess Crusch and an army of soldiers!’”

Otto threw up his hands, exasperated. “So then I have to track you down, which—by the way—gets me chased by some scary guys in robes, stopped at checkpoints by soldiers who think I’m smuggling bombs, and—oh, my favorite part—they confiscated my oil because they thought it was dangerous! Do you know how much money I lost on that investment?! Do you?!”

Subaru winced, rubbing the back of his head. “Uhh… sorry about that.”

Otto scowled at him.

“If it helps,” Subaru continued, offering an awkward smile, “I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

Otto grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue further.

Subaru exhaled.

Without Otto, I don’t think I could have even made it to Arlam in the first place.

The rest of the ride, Subaru sat in silence, trying to will strength back into his body. He felt like his bones had turned to lead, every muscle wrapped in chains. But soon—soon, he would be back in the capital, back in a real bed, one with feather pillows and soft blankets.

Hard to believe it’s over… after so long. Days for them… weeks—months, more likely—for me.

When he opened his eyes again, they were rolling into the courtyard of Crusch’s manor. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept, but his body still felt sluggish—less like he’d rested and more like he’d simply shut down for a while.

Groaning, Subaru pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the cart. The moment his feet hit the ground, he nearly collapsed—his limbs weren’t ready to hold him yet.

“Whoa, easy there,” Otto appeared at his side, looping an arm around Subaru’s shoulders to steady him.

“Thanks,” Subaru muttered, blinking as he took in his surroundings. The courtyard was unusually chaotic—injured soldiers and mercenaries lay on makeshift cots, and healers darted between them, their hands glowing with magic.

Something was wrong.

“Where are Julius and Ferris?” Subaru asked, glancing around. “They were here when I fell asleep.”

“They left only a moment ago,” Otto said, keeping his grip firm. “Ferris wanted to let you rest.”

“Well, I don’t have time to rest,” Subaru muttered. “We need to find Felt and—”

A scream tore through the air.

“Crusch!” Ferris’s frantic voice followed, sending a chill down Subaru’s spine.

His exhaustion vanished in an instant.

“Let’s go,” Subaru said, forcing his legs to move. Each step felt like wading through water, but he shoved through it, staggering toward the commotion with Otto half-dragging him.

The sight that met them made his stomach turn.

Ferris was kneeling over Crusch, his hands trembling as he peeled away hastily wrapped bandages. She looked deathly pale—her normally composed face slack, her breathing shallow. Blood soaked through the fabric, pooling around her as Ferris worked frantically.

Her arm was gone. Severed at the elbow.

“The hell?!” Subaru breathed, his stomach twisting.

“Get me her arm! Now!” Ferris shouted at the nearby soldiers, who scrambled to obey. “Don’t move, my lady—I’m here, I’ll take care of you.”

Subaru took a step back, his heart hammering. Crusch was barely holding on—but if she was here, if she was wounded like this…

"Where’s Rom?!" he blurted. Cold fear crawled up his spine.

Ferris didn’t answer—too focused, too desperate to save his master.

Subaru turned and ran.

He pushed past soldiers, past cots filled with the wounded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His vision tunneled as he scanned every face, searching—praying.

And then—

“Rom!”

The old giant lay on his back, motionless. His right leg was missing from the ankle down, thick bandages clumsily wrapped around the wound. His face was unnervingly still, his massive chest barely rising and falling.

Subaru dropped to his knees beside him, fingers shaking as he checked for a pulse.

There. Faint—but there.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get you help,” Subaru said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Someone help! Please!” He turned, desperate for a healer.

But before he could call out again—

“Subaru?”

He looked up.

Felt was standing a few feet away, staring at him.

His stomach twisted.

Dragon no… She shouldn’t see him like this—shouldn’t see Rom like this.

“Felt, he’s—”

Before he could finish, she rushed forward and hugged him.

He blinked, stunned.

“You made me worried sick!” Felt scolded, her grip tight. “Wilhelm told us you hadn’t woken up—I’ve been looking for you since we got back! Then I saw Crusch like that, and—” She sighed in relief. “At least you’re okay.”

Subaru froze. Something was wrong.

He felt it before his brain caught up.

A cold, creeping dread.

His fingers clenched.

"Who gives a shit about me right now?"

Felt took a step back, confused. “What? I mean, I get it—Crusch is hurt, but Ferris can—”

“Fuck Crusch.”

Felt flinched.

Subaru pointed to Rom. “Rom’s half dead! And you’re standing here worried about me?! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

She stared at him. Blankly.

“…Who’s Rom?”

Subaru’s breath hitched.

Everything inside him went still.

“…What?”

Felt frowned, looking at the unconscious giant beside him. “Is he someone from Arlam? You never mentioned him before.”

No.

No, no, no, no, no—

“You’re… you’re joking,” Subaru whispered, his voice barely audible.

Felt’s expression didn’t change. “I think I’d remember someone other than you taking care of me as a kid. Especially a guy this hard to miss.”

Subaru felt lightheaded.

But… we killed the White Whale.

It should have been over.

It was over.

The Whale was dead.

But Rom—his entire existence—

Had been eaten.

We won… but did we really win?

Felt was still looking at him, confused. Her lips moved, asking something, but Subaru couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears.

Slowly, his hands trembled as he reached for his sword.

You have to.

No…

Rom will be lost if you don’t…

Subaru swallowed.

He met Felt’s eyes. She looked concerned now, stepping toward him. “Subaru? What are you—Subaru, stop!”

He didn’t hesitate.

The blade drove into his chest.

Pain.

Sharp. Cold.

And then—

“You made me worried sick!” Felt scolded, her grip tight. “Wilhelm told us you hadn’t woken up—I’ve been looking for you since we got back! Then I saw Crusch like that, and—” She sighed in relief. “At least you’re okay.”

Subaru stood in stunned silence.

I looped.

His body felt numb.

His breathing was shallow.

I lost.

Chapter 21: ARC 3 - Chapter 1: Sharp Teeth

ARC III

---

Chapter I:

Sharp Teeth

---

Subaru sat in a chair, staring down at Rom.

He felt numb, his whole body heavy, but he didn’t care.

“Looking at him won’t do any good.”

Looking around, Subaru saw Ferris entering. Crusch’s knight looked as exhausted as Subaru felt. The poor man was still dressed in his bloodstained uniform. After Crusch had been tended to, Ferris had pulled himself together enough to help with the other injured soldiers—reattaching limbs and performing all sorts of miracles with water magic.

Subaru glanced at Rom, feeling bitter. His leg had not been recovered after the battle. Subaru wasn’t sure if it was gone or had just been abandoned. He had nearly ordered Otto to go back and look for it, but Ferris had told him it was pointless. If they had found it, the leg would be too far removed from the body to reattach.

Ferris is handling this better than me… must be he’s stronger than me in that regard.

“I know,” Subaru said, still staring at Rom. “I just… I could have done more.”

“You did more than anyone,” Ferris pointed out. “You can’t blame yourself. I want to blame myself too… but I know it won’t help anyone, Subaru.”

I should have been sure… been sure he was alright. To make sure they were all safe. It’s my fault.

“I suppose,” Subaru said hollowly.

“Come,” Ferris said, walking over and pulling Subaru to his feet. “You need to sleep, otherwise you’ll be no good to anyone.”

Subaru wanted to argue, to tell Ferris he needed to stay by Rom’s side, but he didn’t have the strength to fight the knight’s orders. Before he knew it, he was in bed, fast asleep.

It was late afternoon when Subaru woke. He had half-expected to find himself sitting back at Roswaal’s desk in the Mage’s capital apartment, but he was still in Crusch’s manor, in a spare bedroom.

His body still ached, and his head felt light, but other than that, he felt fine.

Getting out of bed, he found fresh clothes had been laid out for him. Slipping them on, Subaru left his room in search of something to eat. His stomach growled, urging him to find food.

The halls were bustling with activity. Servants hurried through the corridors, carrying out their duties. The injured from the previous day had all been tended to, with the worst off housed in the manor. The city had been swarming with movement through the night. The dead were being taken to their families for burial. The courtyard was still a staging ground, though it was far less hectic than it had been the night before.

At breakfast, Subaru learned that Emilia had been busy overseeing the arrangements for the villagers who had been evacuated to the capital. With Arlam safe, they would soon return, now it was just about organizing transportation back. A night or two in the city, and then they would head home.

“You look horrible,” Subaru looked up to see Flam—or maybe Grassis—standing beside him.

“Which one are you again?” Subaru said in a flat tone.

“You really should learn how to tell us apart,” the servant sighed. “I am Grassis. You can tell by the fact that I have a more peach hue to my pink hair and that I’m clearly the pretty one.”

You both look exactly alike… though I suppose her hair is a bit lighter, Subaru thought.

“Why are you here? I thought Felt went back to the Astrea Manor?” Subaru asked, finishing the last of his bacon.

“Lady Felt was concerned,” Grassis explained, “She wanted me to keep an eye on you. She said you were distraught last night.”

Distraught… that’s one way to put it. Subaru could still remember the sharp sting of putting his blade through his heart. He’d do it again if it meant he could save Rom’s memories.

“I’ll be fine,” Subaru said firmly. “I just… need to think.”

“All the same, I’m under orders,” Grassis said flatly. “I’d rather be home. I was going to have tea with my grandfather this afternoon, but here I am.”

“Fine.” Subaru stood up, a servant taking his empty plate. He thanked her as he walked to see Rom. Grassis trailed behind, watching him dully.

Arriving at the old man’s room, Subaru entered to find Emilia there. He blinked, surprised to see her. She was the last person he expected to find visiting Rom, after all, he was the only one who could remember him, at least from what Subaru knew.

“Emilia?”

She jumped slightly, looking over her shoulder to see him. She smiled and stood. “Subaru, I was told I might find you here. Ferris told me a little about what happened.”

“Yeah…” Subaru walked over and placed a hand on Rom’s forehead. He’d had a light fever the night before, but it seemed to have broken overnight. “Sorry, I didn’t see you last night. I was…”

“It’s fine,” Emilia said quickly, her voice gentle. “I should apologize. You were in distress, and I… should have come by sooner.”

“We all had a lot going on,” Subaru said, forcing himself to pull his eyes away from Rom and focus on Emilia.

“Still…” She glanced from Subaru to Rom, her expression softening. “I need to thank you, for everything. If you hadn’t brought everyone together… I doubt it would have ended well.”

Subaru’s mind flashed to the loops—where Emilia and the others had died, where Puck had decided to end the world. It all seemed like a nightmare now. Instead, he had traded that reality for one where a man he saw as a father was nothing more than a hollow husk.

“We all paid a price,” Subaru said bitterly. “Felt too, even if she doesn’t know what was lost to her.”

Felt hadn’t believed him at first when he’d explained everything. He was angry at her for forgetting. It wasn’t fair, he knew that. She hadn’t chosen to forget, but how callous she’d seemed when looking at Rom… It made him want to scream.

“I think I understand,” Emilia smiled softly. “Ferris mentioned to me that Crusch woke not too long ago.”

“How is she?”

“Well, she’s recovering. At the very least, she has both her arms working,” Emilia said, trying to sound a little encouraging.

“That’s good,” Subaru agreed, glancing at Rom. He wondered, if Rom ever woke up, how the old man would get along on one leg. He didn’t imagine it would be a welcome change. “When do you plan to depart back to Arlam?”

“Soon,” Emilia confessed. “We should be leaving tomorrow morning. I’ve already made arrangements with the merchants to take us back. It’s been an expensive few days. In more than just coin.”

Subaru considered that to be the understatement of the century. “I’ll be coming with you,” Subaru said firmly. “I need to deal with Roswaal. Felt is going to need me more now than ever. She had Rom to lean on before, but now… I’m all she has.”

“Then Lady Felt will be going with you,” Grassis said idly.

Subaru blinked. “She’s got other things she must need to—”

“We both know our Lady won’t take no for an answer,” Grassis sighed.

Subaru shook his head, but he had no room to tell Felt no. He wasn’t in charge of her. With the cult and the White Whale out of the picture, Subaru had no reason to object. It wasn’t like he could shut Felt away and keep her safe. Above all else, she was a Royal Candidate, like Emilia.

“Fine,” Subaru said with a shake of his head. “I don’t take it that will be an issue?”

“No, not that I can see,” Emilia confirmed. “What about Reinhard?”

“Still out on council business,” Grassis rolled her eyes. “He’ll no doubt be quite interested in all the developments since he’s been away.”

“Still no word on his return?” Subaru asked. He could never say no to having someone as powerful as the Sword Saint beside him.

“No, regretfully,” Grassis said flatly.

There was a knock at the door, and the three of them turned to watch as Petra poked her head in. “Oh, there you are, Lady Emilia,” she said with a relieved sigh. Subaru noted she had pulled on a servant's uniform. “Oh, Subaru, you’re here too!”

“Petra offered to help me since Rem and Ram are with the other half of the village. She’s been running messages for me,” Emilia explained. The redhead looked pleased with herself.

“I’m old enough to be working now! How do I look, Subaru?” she asked, giving a little twirl in her uniform.

“You look official, very cute,” Subaru offered with a kind smile. Though he had bigger concerns than her attire at the moment, he knew Petra was looking for praise all the same.

Petra beamed, her eyes sparkling, and she flushed a little. “T-Thank you!”

“What brings you here anyway?” Subaru asked.

“Oh, right!” Petra flushed as she remembered herself. “The merchants are asking about payment again. They wanted to speak with you.”

“Again?” Emilia sighed. “Alright, let’s deal with that. Hopefully, we can talk more later, Subaru.”

He nodded as he watched them leave. Sitting beside Rom, he looked down at the old man. “What a mess, eh, old man?”

“I’m not that old,” a voice murmured near his shoulder.

Subaru nearly jumped out of his skin, whipping around to see Puck floating lazily beside him.

“Puck?!” he hissed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Ohhhhhh! Cute!” Grassis beamed, practically vibrating with excitement. “I wanna pet him!”

“Later!” Subaru snapped, sharper than he intended.

Grassis huffed, crossing her arms as she turned her nose up at him. Subaru sighed, already regretting his tone, but his attention was locked on Puck.

“Where the hell were you?” Subaru demanded, his voice laced with frustration. “The Witch Cult attacked, and you were nowhere to be seen.”

“Limitations of my contract, unfortunately,” Puck shrugged, unconcerned. “Lia had you to take care of her, so I’m offering you my praise, Subaru!” He clapped his tiny paws together as if that would make up for his absence.

Subaru was not amused. For a spirit as powerful as you claim to be, you sure seem useless when it matters. If he hadn’t been there—if he hadn’t fought, suffered, died—Emilia would be dead. 

Again. And again. And again. And —

“Well,” Subaru muttered bitterly, “you’re not exactly useful to me, are you?”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Puck mused, tilting his head, “but maybe not unwarranted from your standpoint.” His expression darkened slightly. “With you no longer on Lia’s side regarding the Royal Selection, I have mixed feelings about you, ya know? However…” His tone softened. “You did risk a lot for her sake, so I suppose I have no choice but to lean on you a bit more.”

Subaru’s brow furrowed. “Lean on me? What do you mean?”

“Before I get into all that…” Puck smirked, floating closer, “I suppose I should help you out a little—with this man, I mean.”

Subaru’s eyes widened. He turned to Rom, his pulse quickening.

“Can you—can you wake him up?!”

“No.”

The word hit him like a gut punch.

“Sadly,” Puck continued, his voice tinged with regret, “that’s beyond even my abilities.”

Subaru fought the urge to scream.

“But,” Puck added, “I do know what caused his condition.”

Subaru let out a tired, bitter laugh. “Of course. Because why would it ever be that easy?”

Puck’s tiny paws folded behind his back as his expression darkened. “This is the work of Gluttony.”

Subaru’s blood ran cold. 

“…Another Sin Archbishop?” he asked cautiously.

“In the flesh.”

Subaru’s hands curled into fists. In all his loops, in all the battles against the Cult, he had never encountered Gluttony.

“What… what did he do to Rom?” Subaru’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Puck’s green eyes gleamed with something dangerous. “He devoured his name and memories.”

Subaru felt his stomach lurch.

“If Gluttony eats your name,” Puck explained, “everyone forgets you ever existed. If he eats your memories, you forget yourself. If both are taken, you become nothing but an empty husk.”

Subaru’s gaze snapped to Rom’s still form. The giant man, the father that had raised Felt like his own, the only real family she had ever known—

Wiped away.

Gone.

“But… I still remember him.” Subaru’s voice shook as he forced the words out. “If Gluttony ate his name, shouldn’t I have forgotten him too?”

“That’s a good question,” Puck admitted, tilting his head. “You should have forgotten. But… you didn’t.”

His eyes flickered with curiosity. “There are many strange things about you, Subaru. Besides the obvious.”

Subaru ignored the jab, his mind racing. “Is there any way to bring his memories back?”

“Maybe,” Puck said with infuriating nonchalance. “If there is a way, Gluttony would know.”

A pause.

“But… I’ve never heard of someone being restored after this.”

Subaru clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

Then I’ll find a way. Whoever Gluttony is—wherever he is—I’ll hunt him down.

Even if it takes a thousand loops.

Even if I have to break myself to do it.

But before any of that—I need to break my contract with Roswaal. Right now, I’m still chained. At any moment, he could pull my strings. Order me around. And if that happens, I won’t be able to act when it matters.

Forcing down the frustration, Subaru exhaled.

“…Thanks for the information,” he muttered.

Puck grinned. “Oh, one more thing.”

Subaru glanced at him warily. “What now?”

“I need you to watch after Lia for a while.”

Before Subaru could react, Puck vanished.

Subaru blinked.

“…Watch after Emilia?”

What the hell did he mean by that?

There was a moment of silence before Grassis let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Well, that was interesting,” she huffed. “And I didn’t even get to feel his soft fur!”

Subaru barely heard her. His mind was already elsewhere.

---

Subaru sat beside Felt in Crusch’s office, but it hardly felt like the same place anymore. The air, once thick with authority and strategy, now felt hollow. And Crusch…

She was different.

Not just in appearance—though the pink dress and loose hair softened her usual sharp presence—but in everything else. Her posture, her expressions, the way her hands trembled faintly against her teacup. Gone was the unwavering military leader, the royal candidate who exuded command with every word.

Instead, she looked like a lost child.

Ferris had explained that her memories were gone—another casualty of Gluttony, just like Rom. But unlike him, her name had been left intact. She still knew she was Crusch Karsten. She could still function and hold conversations.

But she didn’t know herself.

And as she struggled through the conversation, Subaru could see the pain in Ferris’ eyes. He was trying—so desperately—to be the pillar Crusch had once been for him. But the way his voice wavered, the way his hands curled into his lap as if holding back tears…

He’s breaking.

“I’m sorry, I’m… a little lost,” Crusch murmured, gripping her tea tightly.

Would you like something stronger to drink?” Ferris offered quickly, his usual teasing absent.

Crusch hesitated, looking up at him with an uncertainty that felt so wrong coming from her. “Do… I like strong drinks?”

Ferris froze, just for a moment then, he forced a small, bright smile. “Y-Yes, you usually do.”

“I think… I’ll just have tea,” Crusch said after a moment, looking down.

“Well, don’t worry,” Ferris forced his voice to stay upbeat, though Subaru could hear the strain. “This is a meek side to you, it’s new for me. No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side!”

He meant it.

But Subaru could see how much it hurt him to say it.

Crusch’s whole history was gone. The woman she had been—the one who had fought alongside Wilhelm, the one who had taken up the sword for her people—erased.

If I get the chance, Subaru thought, gritting his teeth, I will make Gluttony return what he stole. Even if she’s a rival for the throne, even if I have to hunt him to the ends of the earth…

“Shall we get to business?” Wilhelm’s steady voice cut through the room.

“Yes,” Felt agreed, looking between Emilia and Crusch.

Crusch straightened, inhaling deeply. “First… I understand I owe you a great deal of gratitude, Subaru.”

Then, to Subaru’s shock, she bowed her head. He had never imagined Crusch Karsten—a woman so proud and unshakable—bowing to anyone.

“I was told that without your assistance, we never would have slain the White Whale.”

Subaru swallowed hard. “Some of the credit goes to Rom,” he said quickly, his hands clenching. “I did a lot, but the plan to use the Flugel Tree? That was his. Even if… even if no one remembers it.”

Crusch nodded solemnly. “I must apologize for the loss of your friend, then,” she said gently. “And thank him for his assistance.”

Subaru nodded back, his jaw tight. I’ll kill him. I’ll get your memories back, Rom. Yours, Crusch. I swear it.

A tense silence lingered before Ferris broke it, his voice quiet but firm. “Given Lady Crusch’s condition,” he said carefully, choosing his words like walking on glass, “we should discuss the status of our alliance.”

“What do you mean?” Felt asked, frowning.

Ferris hesitated. 

“…Whether it should continue.”

The air grew tense.

“Everyone suspected the Cult would go after Emilia because of her status as a silver-haired half-elf,” Ferris continued, his usual energy absent. “However, while I know Felt’s interests are tied to Emilia’s via Subaru, it would be too—”

“No.”

Crusch’s voice was soft but absolute.

Ferris turned to her, his concern shifting into outright distress. “Lady Crusch, you mustn’t—”

“I have no intention of backing out of any alliance I made,” Crusch interrupted.

Her hand tightened around her teacup.

“Even if I don’t remember making it.”

Ferris’ mouth opened slightly.

He had expected her to be hesitant. To look for a way out.

Instead, Crusch exhaled slowly, steadying herself.

“If I play things safe and hide myself away, I’ll be as weak as everyone expects me to be now,” she admitted. “I can’t remember anything. And I do feel lost. But… hiding like a scared child isn’t the answer.”

Her green eyes flickered with something familiar. Something buried deep—beneath all the confusion, all the gaps in her past. A glimmer of the woman she used to be.

“I refuse to be like that, Ferris.”

“Lady Crusch…” Ferris’s voice wavered as his lips quivered, and then the tears came.

“I’ll need to lean on you more than ever,” Crusch admitted, squeezing his hand. “I must seem like a terrible master right now, but I promise—I’ll do my best.”

“You are truly a rare woman,” Wilhelm said with a deep bow. “You may have lost your memories, but your spirit remains unshaken.”

“You’re something else, that’s for sure,” Felt added with a small smile. “I don’t see any reason why our arrangement should end either.”

“We’ll need to get back on our feet regroup, and figure out how to move forward,” Emilia suggested. “Felt, you’re coming with us, right?”

“You bet. I need to make it crystal clear that Subaru doesn’t belong to your benefactor!” she huffed, crossing her arms.

Subaru glanced between them, feeling the familiar tug-of-war over him. It was strange—technically, they were all on the same side now, yet the tension still lingered.

“Rom needs someone to look after him,” he pointed out.

“Who?” Felt asked, before pausing. Her brows furrowed as she blinked, then shrugged. “Oh, that big old guy… right.”

Subaru’s stomach twisted. The casual way she dismissed Rom—someone who had been her family, her guardian, her father in all but blood—stung. He knew it wasn’t her fault, that she had no choice in the matter, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

Noticing his reaction, Felt shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry,” she muttered, rubbing her arm. “It’s just… I believe you, I do. But I don’t remember any of it. No matter how hard I try, I can’t picture it in my head. It’s like… I don’t know, like I got cheated or something.”

“Cheated?” Subaru repeated.

“Well, yeah,” Felt frowned. “I don’t know which memories are real and which ones are missing. What’s my life, and what’s just a lie left in its place?”

Subaru studied the confusion in her expression—the same frustration, the same emptiness he felt when he thought about Rom’s stolen existence. Slowly, he reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s alright. This… all of this is hard.”

Felt’s face flushed slightly before she huffed and yanked her hand away. “Well, you’re gonna have to explain it to me. No way I’m giving you all the credit just ‘cause I don’t remember! If what you’re saying is true, then the big guy deserves at least half, yeah?”

Subaru let out a small chuckle, though his heart was still heavy. He could only hope that, somehow, things would work out in the end.

---

Flam and Grassis were the only ones to accompany them the next morning. Grimm and Carol remained behind at the Astrea Manor, tending to their duties and preparing their report for Reinhard. Carol had assured Subaru that Reinhard would be sent to them upon his return. Meanwhile, Rom had been carefully carried into a spacious room where he could be properly looked after.

Otto took the reins of the wagon, driving Subaru, Felt, the twins, and Emilia back toward Arlam. Strangely, Subaru found himself growing fond of the merchant—not just because he was one of the few constants in the hell he had endured, but because Otto was proving to be far more capable than he initially let on.

The return trip was smoother than expected. Work crews were already clearing the remains of the White Whale and salvaging wood from the fallen Flugel Tree. Subaru made a mental note that he’d love to get his hands on some of that lumber—it could prove invaluable in his future projects.

As they entered Arlam, the displaced villagers began dismounting and making their way home. Subaru immediately noticed that the village still wasn’t fully repopulated. The absence of so many people was glaring.

"Looks like the other half of the village is still missing," he murmured.

Emilia frowned. “They must still be at the Sanctuary. They might not have left yet.”

That was troubling. But for now, their destination was the manor. As Otto pulled the wagon to a stop outside the estate, Subaru glanced at the empty entrance.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here to greet us,” he noted, scanning the area.

“Beatrice is still inside,” Emilia said, stepping forward. “Maybe she’ll hear if we knock?”

Taking the golden door knocker, she gave the door a few firm raps, the sound echoing inside the manor. Subaru had little confidence that Beatrice would answer. More likely, Felt would need to put her lockpicking skills to use—or he’d just kick the door down and let Ram scold him later.

To his surprise, there was a soft click as the latch unlocked. The door opened to reveal a tall woman with striking emerald eyes and sharp, animal-like teeth. She wore the same uniform as Rem, Ram, and now Petra. From her appearance, Subaru guessed she was either a demi-human or at least had demi-human ancestry.

“Greetings, Lady Emilia,” the maid said with a bow.

“F-Frederica!?” Emilia gasped. “I didn’t know you were coming back!”

“Those teeth are kinda scary,” Felt muttered under her breath.

“That’s rude,” Subaru scolded, though he silently agreed that being nibbled on by the new maid was a scenario best avoided.

“Your teeth look dangerous,” Flam and Grassis added in unison.

So much for first impressions, Subaru thought with a sigh.

Frederica chuckled, unfazed. “Yes, well, I can’t say it’s the first time someone has been put off by them. Particularly men.”

“I’m just gonna ignore that last part,” Felt grumbled, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Well, it’s good to see you again,” Emilia said, quickly recovering from her surprise. “Are you back to work for Roswaal?”

“My leave of absence has ended, and Ram asked me to return,” Frederica explained with a warm smile. “I’m happy to be of service once again. Though, I must ask—who are these four?”

“Oh, of course,” Emilia said, realizing her lapse. “This is Felt—she’s a fellow candidate for the throne.”

Frederica curtsied gracefully. “Welcome, Lady Felt. I am Frederica Baumann.”

Felt stiffened, clearly making an effort to appear regal. “I thank you,” she said with an uncharacteristically refined tone. “I am grateful to make your acquaintance.”

Subaru barely contained a smirk. Her shift from brash street rat to proper noble still felt surreal. He blamed Carol for that—his ear practically tingled at the memory.

“The others are Natsuki Subaru, along with Flam and Grassis Remendis,” Emilia continued. “Subaru is Roswaal’s mage apprentice, though he and Felt grew up together, so things are a little… complicated.”

“I see,” Frederica said, an amused glint in her eyes. “Well then, come in. I’ll prepare tea for everyone and see to the guest rooms.”

Tea that afternoon was… interesting. Subaru sat quietly, watching as Emilia absently toyed with the gem on her chest, her brows furrowed in concern. He wasn’t sure what was on her mind, but if it was important, she’d say something.

Or would she? You're not really on her side anymore… not completely.

He still cared about Emilia, but things had shifted. If only things had gone the way he had imagined—before Felt had gotten involved before she had taken the job to steal Emilia’s insignia. If only, if only, if only…

“Here we are,” Frederica announced as she entered, balancing a tea set on a tray. “I took the liberty of preparing some scones as well.”

Subaru took one, biting into it. It was good—far better than anything Ram could make, though it reminded him of Rem’s baking. He swallowed and turned to Frederica. “Have you heard from Roswaal or the others?”

“I have not,” Frederica admitted with a frown. “I was surprised to find the manor empty when I arrived. Fortunately, Rem left a letter in the master’s office explaining the situation. I hope no one was seriously hurt.”

“We’re all okay,” Emilia assured her, then glanced at Subaru, hesitating. “Mostly… there were some casualties.”

“I see…” Frederica sighed. “I’m glad at least the two of you are safe.”

“Rem and Ram took half the village to the Sanctuary where Roswaal was,” Emilia continued. “So far, we haven’t heard anything from them.”

“Do you have any idea why they wouldn’t have returned?” Subaru asked.

Frederica frowned. “I have a theory. My little brother, Garfiel—he might be the reason.”

“Your younger brother?” Felt asked, intrigued. “Why would he keep the villagers from coming back?”

Frederica glanced out the window, her expression clouded. “It’s been years since I last saw him, but… there are circumstances that prevent certain people from leaving the Sanctuary. If you are a half-breed, you’re bound there—you cannot leave.”

“So, your brother would be trapped inside too,” Subaru deduced. “But that still doesn’t explain what’s stopping Roswaal. He could leave if he wanted.”

Frederica shook her head. “That, I don’t know. My best guess is that Garf must be enforcing some sort of restriction. But if that were the case, Master Roswaal wouldn’t be so easily held back. Only Ram and Lady Beatrice would know his true motives.”

Subaru frowned, considering that. “Roswaal always plays things too close to the chest.”

Then, as if remembering something, he set his tea down and stood. “I need to check on something. There’s a certain librarian I need to speak with.”

“Of course,” Frederica nodded. “I’ll handle things here.”

Felt tilted her head. “Librarian? Oh, is this that Beatrice chick you were talking about?”

“You two would get along,” Subaru chuckled dryly before heading off.

He wandered the halls, searching for the right door. The three books Roswaal had left him were tucked under his arm, their presence weighing on him both physically and mentally. Finally, a closet door seemed… right. When he pushed it open, he found himself stepping into the Forbidden Library.

As always, Beatrice was seated in her oversized chair, nose buried in that same massive, black tome. Subaru glanced around the dimly lit room—everything was exactly as he remembered it.

“What do you want, I suppose?” Beatrice asked, not even bothering to look up.

“I have questions,” Subaru said, tossing the books onto the small table that usually held a tea set. “Mostly about Roswaal.”

“What would I know about him, I suppose?” she muttered dismissively.

“You tell me.” Subaru crossed his arms. “These books—Roswaal left them for me before he and the others left for the Sanctuary. I want to know why. They came from your library, didn’t they? So he must have told you something.”

Beatrice sighed heavily. “You think he needs my permission to take what he wants?”

“Yes.”

That made her look up, eyes narrowing in mild annoyance. “He only said you needed them for studying. And that you had a task to complete.”

Subaru frowned. “A task?”

Did he mean stopping the Cult? How could he have known? Did he expect me to learn magic strong enough to fight them in just a few days?

“That was all?” he asked, unconvinced.

Beatrice huffed. “What more do you want? That woman must have told you something, I suppose.”

“So you’re saying he told you nothing?” Subaru pressed.

“No. Why would he?” Beatrice snapped, clearly growing irritated.

Subaru scratched his chin. Either Roswaal was keeping her in the dark, or she was playing coy.

“I have one more question,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Where were you during the Witch Cult attack?”

Beatrice finally looked up fully, her expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

“You never left this room,” Subaru stated. “You didn’t put up any defenses, didn’t try to help in any way. I know you could have.”

Beatrice huffed again. “Betty is more than strong enough to deal with intruders, I suppose.”

“But not strong enough to help us?” Subaru challenged.

Beatrice’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Betty knew you would stop them.”

“Did you? Or were you just avoiding getting involved?” Subaru accused. “I had to kill Sloth myself. If I hadn’t had help, if things had gone just a little differently…”

Again, and again, and—

“You… killed the Sin Archbishop?” Beatrice suddenly asked, her voice softer than before. “Which one?”

“Sloth,” Subaru answered, watching her reaction.

Beatrice’s fingers tightened on the edge of her book. For the first time, she looked… sad.

“So… you’ve left me too,” she murmured under her breath.

“Beatrice?”

Subaru blinked. “What?”

Beatrice flinched, looking startled. “What?”

“You just said something,” Subaru insisted, scanning the room. “Someone just said your name.”

Beatrice’s brow furrowed. “You must be losing your mind. There’s no one else here, I suppose.”

Subaru shivered involuntarily, a chill crawling up his spine.

“Yeah… maybe I am,” he muttered.

“What happened to his Witch Factor?” Beatrice asked, her voice unusually serious.

Subaru blinked at her, confused. “You mean the thing that gave him those creepy black hands?” He arched an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that have died with him?”

Beatrice let out a long-suffering sigh, her tiny hands clutching at her book as though she were resisting the urge to throw it at him. “You are a horrible apprentice mage, I suppose,” she muttered. “No, it would not.”

Subaru’s stomach twisted. The memory of the battle clawed its way back into his mind—the grotesque, oil-slick tendrils of darkness writhing, reaching for him in Petelgeuse’s final moments. The way they had clung, desperate and grasping, before fading into nothing. Or… had they?

His throat felt dry. Surely not…

“Well,” Subaru forced a chuckle, trying to shove the growing unease to the back of his mind. “I’m sure it’ll turn up somewhere.”

Beatrice snapped her book shut with a sharp thud , her sharp gaze pinning him in place. For a moment, she simply studied him, something unreadable in her expression.

Then, with a small huff, she turned her nose up and reopened her book. “Well, that is all,” she said curtly. “If you want answers, you should find Roswaal in the Sanctuary, I suppose. I refuse to say anything more.”

Subaru felt his hands clench at his sides. The weight in her tone, the pointed way she avoided his gaze—she knew something. Something important.

And somehow, he had the sinking feeling that whatever it was, it was already far too late to stop it.

Chapter 22: ARC 3 - Chapter 2: Tea Party

ARC III

---

Chapter II:

Tea Party

---

“This is much nicer than my old wagon,” Otto mused, patting the side of the well-crafted carriage as he finished hitching Frufoo to the cart. Patrasche, meanwhile, pawed at the ground impatiently, her golden eyes watching Subaru as if waiting for him to signal their departure.

Subaru still wasn’t sure how to feel about Ferris gifting Patrasche to him on Crusch’s behalf. She had refused any other riders since the subjugation of the White Whale, and though Subaru was no expert on earth dragons, he doubted he could find a finer one in all of Lugunica. She had saved his life more times than he could count—far more than he deserved.

“Well, technically, it belongs to Roswaal,” Subaru said, eyeing the carriage. It was one of the larger ones from the Mathers estate, polished and refined. A small, petty part of him almost wished they’d crash it—just enough to make Roswaal buy another. As long as neither Felt nor Emilia was inside, of course.

“Subaru.”

He turned at the sound of his name and saw Frederica approaching, her elegant stride as composed as ever. Beside her was Petra, her bright, youthful energy a stark contrast to the tall, poised maid beside her.

“Seeing us off?” Subaru asked, glancing over their shoulders at the source of an escalating argument. Felt and Emilia were deep in a heated discussion, their voices rising in tandem.

Frederica sighed, her sharp emerald eyes flicking toward the commotion. “That appears to be a problem.”

“What’s it about this time?” Subaru crossed his arms.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Frederica admitted. “Last I checked, it had something to do with breakfast. Lady Felt took the last pastry I made, and Lady Emilia had been too preoccupied with her crystal to notice. When she finally realized, Lady Felt made a rather crass joke, and, well…” She trailed off, gesturing toward the bickering candidates.

“Of course,” Subaru muttered, rubbing his temples. “That figures. Well, I’m sure they’ll work it out.”

“That’s not why I came,” Frederica said, holding out her hand. Resting in her palm was a blue gemstone attached to a black cord necklace. “I want you to take this.”

Subaru reached out, picking up the gem. A faint hum of magic pulsed beneath his fingers. He wasn’t sure what kind of enchantment it held, but there was something undeniably significant about it.

“A gem?” he asked.

“It will allow you to pass through the Sanctuary’s barrier,” Frederica explained. “It may also help with my little brother. From what I’ve heard, he has become quite… protective of the place.”

Subaru turned the crystal over in his fingers, feeling its weight. Protective, huh? That sounded like a polite way of saying hostile .

After a moment, he tucked it safely into his pocket. “I’ll take good care of it,” he promised.

Frederica smiled, though there was something almost wistful in the expression. Her gaze drifted toward Emilia, her composure faltering for just a moment. “I have asked her to take good care of the Sanctuary,” she said softly. “But I would ask you to take care of Lady Emilia as well. I understand that your loyalty is to Lady Felt, but—”

“I’ve given a lot to keep everyone here safe,” Subaru interrupted, his voice firmer than he expected. “I won’t let anything happen to Emilia.”

“Very good,” Frederica murmured, satisfied.

Petra stepped forward, her small hands clasped in front of her. “Subaru, you’ve done so much for Arlam and my friends. Please come back safe… and bring everyone home.”

Subaru’s heart clenched. He reached down, ruffling her hair in a way that drew a beaming smile from her.

“You might not realize it,” Petra continued, shifting slightly, “but you’re kind of a hero to us now. You saved everyone. If you could… just be a bit more of a hero, it would mean a lot.”

A hero? Me?

Subaru blinked. He supposed it made sense. He had led the charge against the White Whale, fought the Witch Cult, and saved Arlam. But the word felt… wrong. He didn’t feel like a hero. He had died—again, and again, and again—failing, stumbling, clawing his way back from endless despair.

How many times had he seen her lifeless body? How many times had he failed to save them all?

I’m not a hero, Petra… I’m just someone who can’t accept losing the people I care about.

Still, he forced a smile, hollow and weightless. “Thanks,” he said.

---

Subaru rode alongside the carriage on Patrasche, his hand never far from the hilt of his sword. The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him like a lead mantle. He had grown so used to knowing what came next—so dependent on that cruel cycle of trial and error—that simply moving forward without a clear danger felt unnatural.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that death was waiting for him again, just around the next bend. The Sanctuary loomed ahead, shrouded in mystery, and he couldn’t help but suspect it would bring new pain. And then there was Roswaal. Subaru had no doubt their paths would collide—violently. The mage had been absent when he was needed most. And while Subaru would never deny Roswaal’s power, he couldn’t forgive the man for his silence… or his apathy.

“They’re at it again,” Otto said from the bench, his tone dry.

“Arguing? What about this time?” Subaru asked, though he already had a hunch.

“Something about how the alliance will function going forward,” Otto said, with a shrug. “Though… I think it’s not really about politics.”

Subaru frowned. He could tell Otto was being coy, but he already knew where this was headed.

“I don’t think I’m worth getting mad over,” he muttered.

“Maybe not,” Otto replied, smirking. “But I’ve seen how they look at you.”

Subaru’s grip tightened slightly on the reins. He wasn’t blind to Felt’s recent behavior. The blushes, the flustered huffs, the way her glare lingered just a bit too long when he stood near Emilia. Their dynamic had shifted. Since Rom’s memories had been taken, something had changed in her—not just how she acted, but perhaps how she remembered him.

She must think I was the one who raised her. If she credits me with everything Rom did... could that mean she’s—

No. He shook the thought from his head.

“Felt’s always been like a sister to me,” Subaru said firmly. “We’re close, sure. Always have been. Always will be.”

Otto chuckled. “And Miss Emilia? She certainly cares about you. Might be that both of them are figuring out how much… and where that leaves you.”

Subaru didn’t respond right away. He looked up at the sky, watching the clouds drift slowly past. Normally, the idea of two beautiful women fighting over him would have inflated his ego for weeks. But not now. Not like this.

This wasn’t a romantic squabble. These were two royal candidates. Their interest in him—real or imagined—was dangerous. If things escalated, it could unravel alliances, shift loyalties, and possibly spark conflict within their already fragile union.

Maybe Felt’s behavior wasn’t even about love. Maybe it was jealousy—watching him risk everything for Emilia and the people of Arlam. Maybe she simply wanted to feel like she still mattered to him.

Dragon, please don’t let Rem get involved in this too, Subaru thought grimly, though deep down, he suspected that was already a lost cause.

“How close are we?” Subaru asked, glancing up at the sun as it dipped lower on the horizon. Evening crept closer with every second.

“Not far. At least, that’s what Frederica told me,” Otto replied, adjusting his grip on the reins as the cart rolled steadily forward into the thickening trees.

“The Forest of Kremaldy,” Subaru muttered, eyeing the dense thickets that lined either side of the road. “I like the woods. It’s peaceful. Cleaner. Feels more… natural than the capital. Nothing like the slums.”

“What, getting sentimental? Planning to sit under a tree with a book and a loaf of bread?” Otto teased.

“Sounds kind of perfect, honestly,” Subaru smirked. “Maybe I’ll build a forge out here. Live like some forest-bound myth, making enchanted weapons for adventurers who brave the wilds to find me. Could be a nice retirement.”

“You make it sound poetic,” Otto chuckled, then sighed. “You do remember there are Witch Beasts out here, right? And worse things.”

“Sure,” Subaru shrugged. “Just need a barrier or two. Besides, I can handle myself.”

“Well—”

There was a sudden thump from inside the carriage. Subaru’s hand instinctively went to his sword as he twisted in the saddle.

“Flam? Garassis? What was—”

Before he could finish, the blue gem around his neck began to glow.

Subaru froze, wide-eyed. The Sanctuary? Was that what this meant?

“Otto, we need to—”

He blinked.

And found himself standing alone in the middle of the woods.

“What the hell…?” Subaru looked around. “I was just on Patrasche. When did I—?”

His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, knuckles white. Something wasn’t right. Not even close.

Then, from the trees ahead, a figure emerged.

A girl—small, barefoot, with pink hair and long, pointed ears. Her cloak fluttered slightly as she stepped into the clearing, her blue eyes watching him.

“You’re not an elf… are you?” Subaru asked, confused but intrigued.

The girl said nothing.

Then, without warning, she turned and darted back into the woods.

Subaru hesitated. Every instinct told him it was a trap—but what if the others were in danger?

“Damn it,” he muttered and sprinted after her.

He chased the pink-haired girl through the forest until he stumbled into a clearing. But she was gone.

In her place stood an old stone temple, half-swallowed by creeping vines and cracked masonry. Its steps, worn from time, led to a shadowed entry.

Subaru’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell is this…?”

“Felt? Emilia? Otto? Twins?” he shouted as he ascended the steps. No answer.

Did the same thing happen to them? Were they pulled away too?

The long hall inside was dark and cold. He hesitated, then drew his sword and fed mana into it. Flames erupted along the blade, casting flickering orange light across the stone walls. Carvings lined them—ancient, worn, and nearly lost to time.

"Felt! Emilia! Anyone!" he called again.

Then a voice echoed—smooth, feminine, and everywhere at once.

“You’re different than I imagined.”

Subaru spun, heart pounding. “What the hell?”

“How… interesting.”

In the blink of an eye, the temple vanished.

He stood in the middle of an endless field of green. Rolling hills spread to the horizon beneath a soft, golden sky. A warm breeze ruffled his coat and hair. It was serene, almost peaceful.

And completely wrong.

“If you would be so kind as to put that away,” a woman’s voice said behind him.

Subaru turned.

Atop a nearby hill sat two chairs and a small table beneath a purple sunshade. A tea set lay waiting.

Seated at one of the chairs was a woman in a sleek black dress laced with thin white stripes. Her long silver hair danced in the wind, a green butterfly clip holding one side in place. Her lashes were thick and pale, her irises black with stark white pupils.

She smiled at him gently.

“I’d hate to startle you too much. Men with swords can be so… unpredictable when provoked.”

Subaru stared. Everything about her was familiar. Wrongly familiar.

“You…” Subaru swallowed hard, his eyes locked on the woman before him. “I think… I know who you are. But that’s impossible.”

“Oh?” she tilted her head, reclining ever so slightly in her seat as her smile widened. “Please, indulge me. I’d love to see just how clever you really are.”

“You can’t be,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… Echidna. The Witch of Greed.”

Her smile turned sly, pleased. “Interesting. Very interesting indeed,” she chuckled, folding her hands in her lap. “Well done. You are correct. I am Echidna. Tell me, what gave me away?”

“I’ve read some books in the Forbidden Library,” Subaru said cautiously. “One of them described the Witches. You matched the description exactly.”

“A well-read guest? How delightful,” she said, sounding genuinely pleased. “Please, do try not to look so tense. And put that sword away, would you? Despite being a Witch, I am still a delicate young maiden. Men with swords should protect lovely flowers like me, don’t you think?”

Subaru’s hand remained tightly clenched around the hilt of his sword. He didn’t know whether to use it or not. Everything about this was wrong. Echidna was supposed to be long dead. Yet here she was—calm, composed, and pouring tea like they were in the garden of some noble’s estate.

Nothing about this felt real.

Still, slowly and warily, Subaru cut the flow of mana from his blade and sheathed it, his eyes never leaving her.

“That’s better,” she said softly, gesturing toward the seat across from her. “Please, sit. It’s been so long since I’ve had company. Tea alone is terribly dull.”

“Is this a dream?” Subaru asked as he stepped forward, “Or am I really here?”

“You’re at one of my tea parties,” Echidna said sweetly. “Your body is still in the hallway, slumped over and unconscious. Don’t worry—nothing underhanded will happen while you’re away. I give you my word.”

“I’m supposed to trust the word of a Witch?” Subaru narrowed his eyes.

Echidna leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand. “From what I can tell, you’ve already placed a great deal of trust in Witches—without even realizing it.”

Subaru’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

She gave him a playful smirk, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Well, if you want answers, you’ll have to sit and share a cup of tea with me, won’t you?”

Slowly, Subaru climbed the hill, eyes fixed on Echidna as he tried to read her. With hesitant steps, he settled into the chair across from her. His eyes dropped to the teacup before him—filled with an orange-tinged liquid. Lifting it slightly, he gave it a cautious sniff. It smelled like tea.

“What’s in the cup?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Tea,” she replied sweetly, leaning forward with a smile. “That is the point of a tea party, you know? It’s not poison, if that’s what you’re worried about. Go on—have a sip.”

Subaru swirled the cup gently. He hesitated. Drinking anything offered by the Witch of Greed didn’t exactly scream good idea . But if he wanted answers, playing along was likely his only option. And if something did go wrong... well, worst-case scenario, he had a way out.

He raised the cup to his lips and took a cautious sip. It wasn’t the best tea he’d ever had, but it wasn’t bad either—earthy and floral, smooth on the tongue. He drained the cup and set it down slowly.

“I was curious if you’d drink it,” Echidna mused, her smile curling. “Most wouldn’t dare accept a drink from a Witch. So tell me, Subaru—are you brave? Or do you simply believe the consequences don’t apply to you?”

“Well,” Subaru said, shrugging, “I’m not dead. So I’ll assume it was safe.”

“Oh, it was safe,” she giggled. “Though, it’s a rather unique blend.”

“Unique?” he asked, wary. “How so?”

“Well, it’s made here, and I don’t exactly have ingredients. So I brewed it using the only thing available—my bodily fluids.”

Subaru froze. His face went slack as he glanced down at the cup.

“That’s… disgusting.”

“You didn’t seem to mind a minute ago,” Echidna said with a playful tilt of her head. “Besides, ignorance is such an unfortunate thing, don’t you think?”

Subaru pushed the cup away carefully, his face pale. Right. No more snacks from Witches.

“You haven’t introduced yourself yet,” Echidna added lightly. “Keeping me in suspense? That’s rather rude, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure you already know who I am,” Subaru replied, frowning. “You brought me here, didn’t you? I’d be shocked if you didn’t already know my name.”

“True,” she said with a playful smirk. “But it’s still polite to offer your name. I am just a helpless young maiden, remember?”

Subaru narrowed his eyes. She was toying with him—he could feel it—but there didn’t seem to be any malice behind it. Just amusement. She was probing. Testing. Trying to understand him.

“Natsuki Subaru,” he said at last. “Pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Subaru,” she purred, resting her chin in her hands as she studied him. “So, you’ve read about me in the Forbidden Library? How flattering. Tell me, do I live up to the image you had in your head?”

“You’re… kinder than I expected,” Subaru admitted, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Though I’m not sure if that’s real, or just an act.”

“A cautious one,” she observed, her smile growing. “Was that always the case, or is that new?”

Subaru didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed forward. “Why bring me here?”

“I may have invited you,” she said lightly, “but you accepted. Knowingly or not. Still, I could send you back, if you’d prefer.”

Subaru hesitated. He didn’t trust her. But he needed answers. Walking away wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“No,” he said. “I’ll stay.”

Her smile brightened. “Good. I thought you might. You and I are not so different, Subaru—curious to a fault. Hungry for answers. And so... why don’t we get rid of all the distractions?”

The world shattered.

The gentle hills cracked and fell away. The breeze vanished. The sky turned black, scattered with swirling nebulas and glimmering stars. The universe opened around them—endless, unknowable.

“You have the honor of speaking with the Witch of Greed,” Echidna said calmly. “It is a privilege few are granted.”

Her voice echoed across the void, calm and sharp.

“Are you here seeking knowledge of Daphne , the Witch of Gluttony, who twisted the will of God to create beasts to spare the world from hunger? Or Carmilla , the Witch of Lust, who gave emotions to non-human beings in her quest to fill the world with love?”

Her tone darkened as she continued.

“Perhaps Minerva , the Witch of Wrath—who hated pain so deeply she healed those she struck? Or Sekhmet , the Witch of Sloth, who desired rest so fiercely she fell from the Dragon’s back at the great waterfall?”

Each name sent a chill down Subaru’s spine.

“ Typhon , the Witch of Pride, who in her youthful arrogance, judged sinners over and over again, with a cruelty she believed to be justice. And of course… Echidna , the Witch of Greed—who sought all knowledge, who desired everything, and who carries the weight of her regrets with each answer she uncovers.”

Subaru's heart was pounding. He knew who was next. He could feel it coming—like a chill slithering up his spine. His chest tightened, breath caught. The hairs on his arms stood on end.

“And then,” Echidna said, her voice barely a whisper now, “there is the Witch of Envy —the one who slaughtered her sisters, devouring them in a frenzy of obsession. The one whose power consumed everything in her path. The most dangerous of them all.”

Subaru felt it—a squeezing in his chest, cold and suffocating. A phantom hand pressing against his heart.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the void vanished.

They were back—seated atop the grassy hill, the shade of the parasol casting long shadows as a gentle breeze returned, cool against the sweat on Subaru’s face.

Echidna sipped her tea casually, as if she hadn’t just rattled the very soul out of him.

“Was that too much for you?” Echidna asked sweetly, her head tilted with faux concern. “I do apologize if I overwhelmed you. The depths of my knowledge… well, I sometimes forget how heavy it can be for others to handle.”

Subaru opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden tightness seized his chest. It felt as if something cold and unseen was wrapping around his heart, squeezing. He staggered, gasping. “You… did you poison the tea?” he choked out.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Echidna giggled, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. “I simply used it to... adjust the Witch Factor of Envy inside you. Gave your resistance a little nudge. So now, we can speak more freely.”

Subaru stared, breath catching. “Wait… you mean…”

“Yes,” she said with a smirk. “Go on. Ask your questions. I’m listening.”

Subaru hesitated, then leaned forward, his voice wary. “What do you want with me, exactly?”

“You’re fascinating,” Echidna said, her tone playful but eyes sharp. “Quite desirable, in fact.”

He flushed. “D-Desirable? I don’t exactly want to be wanted by a witch.”

“Too late for that,” she said, eyes glinting. “Besides… you're already quite taken, aren’t you? The Witch of Envy is obsessed with you. Possessive to a terrifying degree.”

Subaru swallowed hard. He bit his tongue—literally—to stop himself from speaking. He couldn’t talk about it. Not unless he wanted to suffer. Or worse, kill Echidna in front of him. If she even could die again.

“I wonder…” she leaned her cheek into her palm. “You took the Sloth Witch Factor, didn’t you? From its prior owner.”

“I… did I?” Subaru blinked, thrown off.

“Oh, you did,” she nodded, pleased. “It’s clinging to you like smoke. What I find intriguing is… you inherited it without destroying the soul of the previous bearer. Was that your intention?”

Subaru’s brows drew together. “Wait. What? I watched Petelgeuse wither away right in front of me.”

Echidna tilted her head, her smile fading into something more curious. “You really haven’t noticed? Or perhaps you’ve just been avoiding it. But yes—he’s still in there. With you.”

Subaru froze.

A chill swept through him, icy and nauseating. “He’s… alive? Inside me?!”

Echidna waved her hand dismissively. “Alive might be too generous a term. More like… residual. Faint echoes of a shattered mind. If he could take control, I imagine he would have tried already. Without his Witch Factor, he’s hardly a threat to someone like you.”

“That’s not comforting,” Subaru said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want him in me. Not whispering, not waiting, not anything . I want him gone .”

“And perhaps you’ll get that chance,” Echidna said lightly, as if talking about pruning a garden. “But not today. For now, you’ll just have to accept his lingering presence.”

Subaru shivered at the thought, his fists clenching. Petelgeuse… still inside him?

Echidna reached for her teacup again, swirling the liquid lazily.

“But let’s not ruin the tea party with thoughts of madness and murder, shall we?” she said, lifting the cup to her lips. “There’s still so much more to talk about.”

Subaru forced himself to relax, though the idea that a lunatic might now be sharing headspace with him was... less than reassuring. “Alright, questions then,” he said, drumming his fingers against the table, eyes fixed on Echidna as she sipped her tea like this was the most casual affair in the world. “First off—where am I? My body , I mean. Not this place.”

“You are in the Witch’s Graveyard,” she said easily. “More formally, it is known as the Sanctuary . It's where I was laid to rest upon my death.”

Subaru nodded slowly. “So the ruins outside… that’s the Sanctuary? This place is meant to guard your corpse?”

“That wasn’t the original purpose,” Echidna admitted, swirling her tea. “But yes, as things stand, that’s the role it serves now.”

Subaru tapped his foot, processing. “Do you know who Roswaal is?”

A wide smile spread across her lips. “I am well acquainted with him.”

Subaru’s blood ran cold. “Well acquainted?” he echoed. “From what I’ve gathered, you died centuries ago. So unless I’ve missed something huge, there’s a gap here. ‘Knowing’ him and being ‘well acquainted’ aren’t the same thing. I don’t think you misspoke either.”

“Perceptive,” she murmured, eyeing him with quiet amusement. “You’re right. The Roswaal you know is not the same as the one I once spoke to in the flesh… but in his own way, he’s been continuing that conversation ever since.”

Subaru blinked. “What does that even mean…?”

“I wasn’t there to see it myself, but I know this much—he’s changed. Or rather, evolved … and his obsession with me? Oh, that’s grown rather poetic over time,” she smirked, her gaze cutting deep. “I can see he’s left quite the mark on you.”

“You mean the contract?” Subaru muttered. “Can you tell me how to get out of it?”

“I might ,” she said teasingly. “But I’m curious to see whether you can break it yourself. I’m greedy, remember? I want to see what happens when two powerful forces finally collide. It’s so… deliciously unpredictable.”

“Figures,” Subaru sighed. “You’re not exactly the type to hand over answers for free.”

“Not yet ,” she said, voice like silk. “But under the right circumstances… I would share everything I am with you.”

Subaru swallowed. He wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a threat—or both. He could feel how dangerous she was, not just in raw power, but in how much she knew .

She’s not in the dark. She’s watching everything from the top of the tower.

“You said earlier I’ve put a lot of faith in Witches,” Subaru said carefully. “Plural. I know I’m connected to one Witch… but who’s the other?”

Echidna tilted her head, bemused. “I think you know.”

He frowned. “You? How? This is the first time we’ve spoken .”

“Spoken, yes. Interacted? No,” she said, her smirk returning. “You’ve been drawing from my knowledge for a while now. I dare say it’s the only reason you’ve made it this far.”

Subaru’s eyes widened. “You… wrote the books in the Forbidden Library?”

“Not all of them,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “Some came from other scholars. But the majority—especially the useful ones—are mine.”

“Including the one on runecraft?” Subaru asked, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword.

“Indeed,” she said, clearly pleased. “I’ve been watching your progress with great interest. You’re quite the specimen, Subaru. I’d love to study you—ethically, of course… mostly .”

Subaru shivered. “Yeah… not sure how I feel about being someone’s lab rat.”

“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter,” she giggled, “or don’t—I’m not here to judge. Just know that I could make your life… significantly easier, should we come to an agreement.”

“Last time I made a deal with a magic user, it ended… poorly,” Subaru muttered, his fist clenching. “I don’t think I’m keen to repeat that mistake.”

“Who said I was offering you a deal?” Echidna grinned. “You’re interesting, yes—but we’ve only just met. You’re a bold one. I can’t yet tell if you’re brave or just hopelessly stupid.”

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Either way… I like you. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

Before Subaru could form a reply, the ground beneath them gave a soft rumble—like a heartbeat echoing through the earth. Echidna gave a wistful sigh.

“Well, all good things must come to an end, I suppose. It’s time to wrap up our little tea party.”

Subaru rose to his feet as she did, watching as she snapped her fingers. A shimmering black tear appeared in the air beside them, a rippling void that pulsed with unnatural energy.

“But before you go,” she said, stepping close, “I’ll need something in return.”

Her hand came to rest gently over his heart, her touch featherlight yet strangely heavy with meaning. “A vow. Harmless, I assure you. You are not to speak of what happened here—no word of our conversation, or even my presence, to anyone.”

Subaru hesitated—then nodded. “Fine. That’s simple enough.”

Echidna’s expression turned sly, her hand lingering against him. “As a reward for being such a delightful guest, I’ll grant you something in return—the right to challenge the Trials of the Sanctuary.”

“Trials?” Subaru echoed. “What for?”

“You’ll see,” she said with a cryptic smile. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

Her fingers trailed against his chest for a moment longer before she drew her hand back—and then, to Subaru’s surprise, she licked the fingers that had touched him. There was something uncomfortably intimate in the gesture, something that sent a chill racing down his spine.

“The thought of what’s to come… gives me such delicious anticipation.”

Subaru’s mouth was dry. “You… really are the Witch of Greed.”

“Indeed,” she whispered, stepping close—so close their bodies nearly touched. “I am a terrifying magic user. A manipulator. A monster to some. I wonder…” Her voice softened, “...will people say the same of you, one day?”

And then she smiled—a small, knowing, wicked thing—and tapped him lightly on the forehead.

In the blink of an eye, Subaru felt the world fall away. He tumbled backward through the dark rift, Echidna’s expression the last thing he saw—smiling, serene, and impossible to read.

 

Chapter 23: ARC 3 - Chapter 3: Consequence

ARC III

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C hapter III:

Consequence

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Subaru stirred, the chill of stone biting into his back as he slowly opened his eyes. The temple ceiling loomed above, gray and cracked with age. He blinked, groggy, and pushed himself up on shaky arms. His breath left him in a shallow gasp.

A moment ago, he’d been walking through the darkness—then… nothing.

No sound. No falling. Just… gone .

Like the forest. Like when the crystal around his neck had flashed and teleported him. Then that elf girl appeared. Now…

He looked down. Dust clung to his clothes. His face had been pressed to the floor. He didn’t even remember collapsing.

Shaking it off, Subaru spotted his sword a few feet away. He staggered to it and scooped it up, feeling its familiar weight in his hand. Ahead, faint light spilled in through a crack in the distant temple door.

“I need to find the others,” he muttered to himself, gripping the sword tighter.

Exiting the temple, he stepped into a sunlit clearing—and immediately froze.

Up ahead, the carriage stood parked, its wheels dug slightly into the soft grass. Flam and Grassis stood panting, visibly drained. Otto had his arms around Felt, restraining her as she shouted furiously.

“What the hell is going on?” Subaru whispered.

“Subaru! Behind you! ” Felt screamed.

Subaru turned—and instinct screamed wrong . He pivoted, bringing his sword around in a defensive slash, but a hand caught his wrist mid-swing. The grip was like iron.

A smirk flashed before him—sharp, toothy, and wild. “Nice try, asshole,” the man growled, “but I’m a bit much for you.”

Before Subaru could process the words, pain shot up his arm as the stranger squeezed his wrist tighter.

“Shamak! ” Subaru shouted, voice laced with panic.

Dark mist exploded around them in a puff of shadow. With a burst of force, Subaru rammed his mana-charged fist forward, slamming it into the stranger’s jaw. The grip broke. Subaru didn’t hesitate—he leapt backward, sliding to a stop a few feet away.

The mist thinned, and the man emerged through the haze.

He was young—around Subaru’s age—with spiky golden hair and a cocky, wolfish grin. His exposed torso was lean and muscular beneath a dark, torn vest, and a long tattered purple cloth hung from his waist. But what caught Subaru’s attention was the large X-shaped scar carved across his forehead.

Subaru didn’t wait. He poured mana into his blade and fired a bolt of lightning.

The crackling blast struck the man square in the chest, knocking him off balance. He hit the ground, smoldering slightly—but to Subaru’s dismay, the stranger was back on his feet a moment later, grinning wider than before.

“You’re Frederica’s brother, aren’t you?” Subaru muttered, brow furrowed.

The grin faltered slightly as the man caught sight of the glowing blue gem around Subaru’s neck. “Where the hell did you get that ?” he snarled, his voice turning savage.

“From your sister, jackass,” Subaru replied dryly. His eyes flicked to the side—Flam and Grassis were circling.

“Flam, Grassis— stand down ,” Subaru ordered, not taking his eyes off the golden-haired brute. “Unless you’re looking to get in a fight none of us can walk away from.”

The twins hesitated—but they stopped, eyes locked warily on the man before them.

Subaru kept his stance firm, sword lowered but ready.

Garfiel scowled, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Well, if you’ve got that crystal, there’s only two ways that could’ve happened—either my sister gave it to you, or you stole it.” His sharp gaze swept over Subaru, assessing. “You’re not missing any limbs, so I’ll assume the former.”

Subaru relaxed slightly, letting out a breath as he slid his sword back into its sheath. Otto finally released Felt, who was still glaring daggers at Garfiel.

“We tried to tell you that!” she snapped, her voice rising. “Why did you believe him the second he spoke, but not us?”

“Well, he had the damn crystal, didn’t he?” Garfiel shot back, his tone flippant. “And you kept shouting in my ear. I stopped listening to your shrill voice after the third word.”

“ Shrill?! I’ll give you shrill—” Felt growled, stepping forward.

“Felt, just leave it,” Subaru interjected with a sigh. “Fighting now won’t help anything.”

His eyes scanned the area. “Where’s Emilia?”

Felt’s frown deepened, though this time it was more of a pout. “Miss Half-Elf conked out the moment we got here. I was a little more focused on the guy who vanished into thin air than the one taking a nap.”

Before Subaru could respond, a loud screech tore through the clearing—and then something heavy slammed into him, sending him crashing to the ground.

“Urgh—Patrasche?!” he wheezed as the earth dragon pinned him with her weight, aggressively sniffing him over as if to make sure he was real.

“She was worried sick about you,” Otto said from a safe distance, shaking his head. “One second you were riding her, the next you were gone. She went tearing off into the woods after you like her tail was on fire.”

Subaru groaned, still flat on his back. “If you can understand her, maybe you could ask her to stop crushing my lungs ?”

Otto chuckled. “She’s not letting you out of her sight for a while. Pretty sure she’s embarrassed. You disappearing off her back without a trace? Big blow to her pride. Earth dragons don’t take that sort of thing lightly.”

“Well, tell her I won’t be doing any more unplanned teleportation , at least not if I can help it,” Subaru muttered.

With a final huff, Patrasche stepped off him, then nudged his head gently with her snout, clearly still displeased.

Felt smirked, crossing her arms. “Good. I was worried, too, you know. Now we’ve got someone keeping an eye on you when I’m not.” She gestured toward the dragon. “No more vanishing acts, Subaru—or else Patrasche is going to hunt you down and trample you.”

“Lovely,” Subaru muttered as Patrasche gave his cheek a wet, affectionate lick.

Before long, they were back on the move. Garfiel had claimed a spot beside Otto on the driver’s bench, mostly because Felt had flat-out refused to let him inside the carriage. Subaru hoped she wouldn’t cause too many issues, but, knowing her, that was probably asking for too much.

Otto looked tense with Garfiel sitting beside him, but to his credit, he kept the reins steady as they rode on.

“You’re pretty strong,” Garfiel muttered, throwing Subaru a sideways glance. “What’s your name?”

“Natsuki Subaru,” he answered, keeping an eye on Patrasche, who would occasionally glance back to ensure he was still there.

“Subaru, huh? Rem mentioned you.” Garfiel grumbled, arms crossed. “You’re Roswaal’s apprentice, ain’tcha?”

Subaru stiffened slightly. “He and I have a… complicated arrangement,” he said tensely. “Though, for now, I suppose I technically am.”

“So, what’re you doin’ here? Come to do yer master’s bidding?” Garfiel asked with clear suspicion.

“No, quite the opposite,” Subaru sighed. “If I can help it, I’ll be free from my obligations to that man.”

Garfiel smirked, flashing his sharp teeth. “I take it there’s a little tension between student and master.”

“You could say that,” Subaru muttered before shifting topics. “Any clue why Emilia passed out?”

“She’s a half-elf,” Garfiel shrugged. “Moment you crossed the barrier, it took hold of her. She’s stuck here now—same as everyone else.”

Subaru froze, his stomach twisting. How could I have been so stupid?

“Frederica said half-breeds were bound to this place…” he muttered. “The barrier—it keeps you inside ?”

“Exactly,” Garfiel confirmed casually. “She’ll wake up, but now that she’s here, there’s no leaving for her.”

Subaru gulped hard. Did I just trap her here?!

“There’s a way to remove the barrier, but we can get to that later,” Garfiel added with a shrug. “Not my problem you wandered in here without thinkin’.”

Subaru clenched his fists but forced himself to focus as they rode deeper into the village. The sight before him was far from what he expected.

The so-called Sanctuary was… run-down. Buildings were draped in vines, the roads uneven and unkempt. Half-blooded demi-humans moved about, their faces carrying the weight of stagnation, of a life spent trapped within invisible walls.

Garfiel scoffed. “Miserable place. Sanctuary’s just a fancy name Roswaal likes to use, but this place ain’t much better than a dump.”

Before Subaru could respond, a blur of blue suddenly darted toward him.

“Subaru!”

He barely had time to react before Rem collided into him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“I was so worried about you!” she said breathlessly, looking up at him with misty eyes. “When that Felt girl arrived saying you were there to save us from the Witch Cult, I—”

Subaru’s brain stalled.

“Uh… yeah. Good to see you too,” he managed, caught off guard by her enthusiasm.

“Rem, you seem enthusiastic, ” Emilia’s voice came from the carriage window, amusement laced in her tone.

Rem blinked, then straightened, eyes flickering with realization. “Lady Emilia? Oh… that’s not ideal.” Her concern was evident.

“ Subaru… ” Felt’s voice cut in.

Subaru’s gut twisted.

Felt was leaning out of the window now, her face a mix of confusion and something dangerously close to jealousy.

“Why,” she asked slowly, “is a maid with blue hair cradled in your arms?”

Subaru stiffened.

Oh no.

He didn’t even have to look to know how bad this was. Emilia, Felt, and Rem in the same place —the inevitable disaster he had known was coming had finally arrived.

Dragon above, why does this always happen to me?!

“I must agree with the girl,” came another voice—one far too familiar and unimpressed.

Ram.

Subaru turned to see her approaching, her usual deadpan expression firmly in place.

“Sister,” Ram sighed, shaking her head, “it’s rather unsightly to throw yourself into a man’s arms. Have some dignity.”

Rem pouted but reluctantly slid out of Subaru’s grasp, though not without a lingering glance in his direction.

“Ram…” Garfiel grinned, stepping forward, looking uncharacteristically pleased to see her.

Ram, however, barely spared him a glance before turning to Emilia. “Lord Roswaal is expecting you, Lady Emilia.”

Garfiel’s smile instantly dropped. “What? Nothin’ for me?” he grumbled.

Ram didn’t even dignify that with an answer.

“Whatever,” Garfiel scoffed, dismounting from the bench. “I got other things to do.”

Subaru watched him stalk off before glancing back at Ram, who was already helping Emilia out of the carriage.

He exhaled slowly.

What the hell kind of situation have I landed myself in?

Between Felt, Emilia, and now Rem—not to mention whatever Garfiel had going on with Ram—this whole thing was starting to feel less like a dangerous mission and more like one big convoluted romantic battlefield.

Great. Just what I needed.

Dismounting from Patrasche, Subaru grunted as the earth dragon nipped at his arm.

“Not you too,” he grumbled. “Follow Otto. He’ll get you fed—I need to deal with Roswaal.”

“Raaa,” Patrasche replied with a dissatisfied huff.

“I promise I won’t vanish without telling you this time, alright? Now please?” Subaru sighed, giving her a gentle pat.

“I’ll take her, Subaru,” Rem offered with a warm smile, stepping forward. “You have more important things to handle.”

With visible reluctance, Patrasche allowed herself to be led away. Subaru barely had a second to breathe before—

“Ow!” he yelped, wheeling around just in time for Felt to lower her fist.

“I thought Carol made you into a lady! ” he snapped, rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, well, someone had to knock some sense into you,” she shot back. “I leave you alone for one month, and now you’ve got an earth dragon, a maid, and a half-elf all making googly eyes at you!”

“There are so many things wrong with that sentence,” Subaru groaned. “Besides, I’m pretty sure the only one actually romantically interested in me is Rem.”

“Yeah? Then why are you turning red?” Felt smirked, hands on hips.

“Why do you care?” Subaru asked, narrowing his eyes.

Felt scoffed and turned on her heel. “Men. Always dense when it counts.”

He watched her storm off, Flam and Garassis trailing behind like confused shadows. Subaru rubbed his temples. “Rom… I’ve got to get your memories back. This new version of Felt is a handful.”

“Everything okay, Subaru?” Emilia asked as she approached, Ram following behind her with the trunk of luggage.

“I wish I knew,” he muttered.

“Subaru,” Ram said curtly.

He braced himself. What now?

“I must thank you.”

He blinked. That wasn’t what he expected. “Thank me? For what?”

“For orchestrating the rescue of Arlam. For saving everyone at the manor,” she said simply. Then, with a bow, she added, “I was… harsh with you before we parted. I apologize.”

Subaru stared for a moment, caught off guard. That kindness won’t last long, he thought bitterly—but nodded anyway.

“Think nothing of it,” he said with a forced smile. “I’m sure we’ll butt heads again. You’re only doing what you think is best.”

Ram gave a sharp nod. “Roswaal is in the main bedroom. He should be well enough to receive you, Lady Emilia.”

Well enough? Subaru thought darkly.

Inside, the air felt heavier—like the walls themselves were holding their breath. He stepped in first. Roswaal sat on the bed, wrapped head-to-toe in thick bandages. Gone was the gaudy makeup, the theatrical air. Without it… he looked oddly human. Vulnerable, even.

But the moment he smiled, Subaru’s fury bubbled right back up.

“Ahhhh, Emilia, Subaru. How goooooood to see you,” Roswaal cooed, voice still drenched in that same sing-song tone Subaru had grown to loathe.

Subaru glared at him, fists tightening at his sides. Not yet.

“Roswaal, what happened?!” Emilia gasped, stepping forward.

“That can wait,” Roswaal said, just as Ram entered behind them with a tray of ointments, soup, and fresh bandages. She began tending to him without a word, her movements practiced and quiet.

Subaru didn’t even try to hide his scowl. Loyal to the end, even now.

“So,” Roswaal smiled at Emilia, “How do you feeeeel now that you’re here, dear Emilia?”

“I feel… strange,” she admitted. “When we crossed the barrier, I blacked out. And ever since I woke up, it’s like something’s squeezing my chest. I can’t seem to relax.”

She shivered slightly.

“They call this place a Sanctuary,” she added. “But I think I agree with Garfiel—it doesn’t feel like one.”

“A Witch’s Graveyard?” Roswaal offered, eyes glittering.

Subaru’s heart skipped. The words felt familiar, but he couldn’t place why. A whisper lost in fog.

“W-what do you mean by that?” Emilia asked.

“Echidna is buried here,” Subaru said, the words falling from his mouth before he could stop them.

Even he was startled.

“Quite right, my young apprentice,” Roswaal said with a smirk. Subaru bristled at the praise.

“This is where the Witch of Greed met her end—long, long ago.”

“And your connection to this place?” Emilia pressed, frowning.

“It has been under the protection of the Mathers family for generations,” Roswaal said smoothly.

“So… the Witch of Greed and your—”

“ Echidna, ” Roswaal corrected sharply, his voice uncharacteristically firm.

Subaru’s frown deepened. That… was sharp.

“Please,” Roswaal said, a thin smile returning to his lips, “Use her name when speaking of her.”

“So your family and Echidna were… close?” Emilia asked, suddenly cautious.

Roswaal tilted his head, eyes narrowing just slightly. “ Very. Going back generations, yes.”

“So, how’d you end up like this anyway?” Subaru crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Roswaal.

“He attempted the trial,” came a new voice.

Subaru turned just as Garfiel strolled in, arms crossed, a smug grin plastered across his face. “The dumbass thought he could handle it. How wrong he was.”

“Ahhh, yes. Unfortunately, it seems I’m not qualified,” Roswaal replied, his tone light—but Subaru caught something beneath it. Disappointment? Frustration?

“The trial?” Subaru looked between the two, confused. “Care to explain for those of us not in the loop?”

“Simple enough,” Garfiel said, leaning casually against the doorframe. “This whole place is a cage. A trap for all half-bloods—your precious half-elf included. Until someone completes the trial and lifts the barrier, they’re stuck here. That’s why we took the villagers as hostages.”

“Hostages?” Subaru’s eyes narrowed, his voice growing cold.

“Don’t get the wrong idea.” Garfiel shrugged. “They’re well-fed, safe, nobody’s hurt. But they don’t leave—not until we can.”

“That includes you too, by the way,” he added with a sharp grin. “Welcome to the Sanctuary.”

Subaru held back the urge to channel his mana. His fingers twitched near his belt, but he kept himself still.

“You do realize you’re digging your own grave, right?” he said calmly.

“Oh?” Garfiel’s grin faltered.

“For starters, Roswaal—much as I hate to say it—is probably still stronger than everyone in this room combined.” Subaru threw a glance at his bandaged master. “And second… Reinhard.”

Garfiel blinked. “What’s the Sword Saint got to do with anything?”

“That blond girl with us—Felt? Reinhard is her sworn knight,” Subaru said flatly. “If he realizes she’s gone missing, he’ll come looking. And when he does… let’s just say I don’t like your odds.”

The room tensed.

“You wanna test me, pal?” Garfiel growled, stepping forward.

“Garf,” Ram said sharply, not even looking up from where she adjusted a bandage on Roswaal. “Don’t do something stupid.”

Garfiel scowled but backed down with a snort.

“Despite young Garfiel’s theatrics,” Roswaal sighed, “Emilia remains trapped here until the barrier is lifted. If holding the villagers as leverage gives him confidence that she’ll attempt the trial… then so be it.”

“Me?” Emilia blinked, startled. “I don’t think… I mean… I don’t even know if I can do something like that…”

“I have every confidence that you can,” Roswaal said with an encouraging smile.

“You better be right, Roswaal,” Garfiel snarled, lingering at the doorway. “Because if she fails… I’ll be back for my pound of flesh. And even if you do bring that Sword Saint here, he still has to find us—and the barrier’ll still be up. Emilia’s not going anywhere.”

With that, he stormed out, boots pounding against the floor.

Subaru stood in tense silence, arms crossed as he mulled over the situation. For now, playing along was the best option. If Reinhard showed up, they’d deal with Garfiel then—but a direct fight now, especially alone, would be reckless.

“Emilia, why don’t you go check on the villagers?” Subaru offered.

“What? Oh… right,” she said, clearly still processing everything. “Will you be coming with me?”

“I’ll catch up shortly,” Subaru said, glancing at Roswaal. “There are a few things I need to discuss… with my master.”

Ram’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the shift in tone, but Roswaal merely chuckled.

“Very well,” he said smoothly. “Ram, please escort Lady Emilia to where young Garfiel is housing our guests.”

Ram hesitated for a beat, her gaze lingering on Subaru… then gave a polite bow.

“Yes, master Roswaal.”

As she turned to leave with Emilia, Subaru exhaled slowly. He didn’t want an audience for what came next.

There was a long stretch of silence. Subaru waited, listening for the sound of footsteps fading into the distance, making sure Ram was far enough not to overhear.

“So, Subaru—”

Roswaal didn’t get to finish. Subaru surged forward, gathering his mana and driving a fist straight into Roswaal’s face. The impact sent the mage flying from his bed, crashing into the far wall with a sickening thud.

Subaru stalked forward, rage burning hot through every fiber of his body.

“You fucking bastard,” he growled, his voice seething with venom.

Roswaal lay sprawled among the fallen blankets and shattered trays, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Despite the swelling in his face, he laughed—low and breathless.

“I suppose I deserve that… from your perspective, at least.”

Subaru grabbed a fistful of Roswaal’s bandages and hauled him up until they were face to face.

“You weren’t there,” Subaru hissed. “You left us . Why the hell did you come here?! Don’t you dare tell me it was to take the damn trial—you could’ve done that any time!”

Roswaal chuckled, blood staining his teeth. “You think I didn’t know what would happen? Bold accusation… but irrelevant. I’ve already won, Subaru.”

“What the hell are you—?”

Pain.

White-hot agony stabbed through Subaru’s chest, as though an invisible vice had clamped around his heart. His hands felt like they were burning from the inside out. Gasping, he released Roswaal and stumbled backward, clutching his chest.

It wasn’t like the Witch of Envy’s touch. This was worse .

Roswaal adjusted his bandages with an eerie calm. “The signee,” he said, his voice now almost reverent, “will act as a member of the Roswaal household and be under the authority of Roswaal L. Mathers and his superiors, as long as they are his apprentice. Do you recall those words, Subaru? It’s time you learned what they really mean.”

A sudden burst of mana flared—and Roswaal struck. The backhanded blow hit like a thunderclap, and Subaru’s vision went white as he hit the floor. His mind screamed as if claws were tearing through it, scraping at the edges of his sanity.

“You are the key to my life’s ambition,” Roswaal said, looming over him. “Did you really think I’d let you walk away?”

Subaru gasped as the pain lifted, but the weight of it lingered in his bones. He forced himself up on shaking arms. “What… what the hell was that?”

“A correction,” Roswaal said smoothly. “You defied my will, and so, I corrected your actions. The bond between master and apprentice runs deep , Subaru.”

Subaru’s breath caught in his throat.

“You want out of the contract? There’s only one person who can release you. And it’s not me.”

Subaru’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“My superior,” Roswaal said with a smile that was far too wide. “The Witch of Greed— Echidna .”

“She’s dead .”

“In one sense, yes,” Roswaal replied. “But her spirit endures. As do her ambitions. As do mine .”

He stepped forward, the fire in his eyes chilling to the bone.

“You will take the trial. And when you do… you’ll enter into a contract with my master. That is the will of Roswaal L. Mathers.”

Subaru stared, stunned.

“You… you think I’ll let you?” Subaru snarled, his fists trembling as rage surged through him.

Roswaal tilted his head with a smirk. “What? Do you plan to reset? The results will be the same.”

The words struck like a hammer.

Subaru froze, eyes wide. “Reset?”

Roswaal’s grin deepened. “Ah… I see that got your attention. Yes, Subaru. I know. Or rather… I suspected. Why else would I choose those books to leave for you? Why else would I set things in motion just as I did?”

Subaru’s blood ran cold.

“You… you knew? You put me through all that hell?” His voice cracked as his fists clenched. He staggered to his feet, fury driving him forward—and swung.

But the moment his fist moved, it felt like his chest exploded. White-hot pain shot through him, worse than anything before. He crumpled to the ground, writhing, clawing at the floor.

“I did,” Roswaal said with almost pride . He rose from his bed and knelt beside Subaru, seizing him by the hair and yanking his head up.

“I don’t know how many times you reset. Frankly, I don’t care. What matters is how far you’ve come. Some might call it a miracle. I call it design. My design.”

His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “You only got this far because I set you on the right path. You are mine , Subaru. And one day, you’ll thank me. You’ll look back and understand. ”

“F-Fuck y—arghh!” Subaru screamed as another pulse of agony tore through him. It felt like his insides were boiling, his heart being crushed by invisible claws. For a moment, he genuinely wished he would die—just to make it stop .

“You will act as if this never happened,” Roswaal said, calm and cold. “You will take the trial. You will do as I command. And you will not think of resetting. I forbid it.”

As if a switch had flipped, the pain vanished. Subaru collapsed onto his side, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat.

He lay there for what felt like an eternity, staring blankly at the floor, the taste of bile in his mouth. When he finally managed to lift his head, Roswaal was calmly resting in bed once more, his expression placid.

And Rem was there—kneeling beside Subaru, her face full of worry. She gently reached to help him up.

Subaru’s mind reeled. The world felt distant, unreal.

He knows.

He’s known.

He planned all of this…

And worst of all—he had the power to make Subaru obey.

How can I hope to beat this…?

Chapter 24: ARC 3 - Chapter 4: Enter

ARC III

---

Chapter IV:

Enter

---

Subaru was trapped.

No matter how long he sat on that weathered stump, racking his brain, there was no way out. His thoughts ran in frantic circles, desperate for an escape. Every time he even considered forcing a reset—letting himself fall into danger or death—the burning would begin. A creeping heat beneath his skin, like fire crawling through his veins. If he lingered on the idea too long, the pain hit him full force, merciless and crippling.

Roswaal had turned him into a puppet. A dog on a leash.

All it would take was another command, and Subaru knew—he knew —he’d obey. Not out of choice, but because the magic anchoring the contract would make sure of it. He wanted to believe he could resist it, that he could endure the agony and break free by force of will alone.

But he couldn’t.

I get it now…

This is what Reinhard feared. If Roswaal had ordered me to spy on Felt… I would’ve done it. No matter how much I hated it.

He sat hunched over, defeated, fists clenched tightly in his lap. Every time he tried to form a plan, to pull together his thoughts into something coherent, that phantom pain began to rise again—just enough to remind him of his place.

“Subaru…”

He looked up, startled, and saw Rem approaching, her expression gentle but shadowed with concern.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked softly.

“I’m fine,” he lied without hesitation. “Really. I just… fell. Like Roswaal said.”

Rem didn’t look convinced. Her gaze lingered on him, searching for something in his expression. But after a beat, she nodded anyway.

“I’m… just worried,” she admitted.

Subaru stood, trying to appear steadier than he felt. “Worried about what?”

“There’s tension in the air,” she said, eyes drifting toward the village in the distance. “Lady Emilia seems under a lot of stress. She’s been looking at her gem constantly… like she’s expecting something. Or afraid.”

“Puck’s been quiet lately,” Subaru muttered. That wasn’t a good sign. Puck disappearing meant something was wrong—deeply wrong. And Roswaal... Roswaal wouldn’t leave anything to chance. If his original plan fell apart, he’d pivot to the next. And Subaru couldn’t shake the feeling that Felt or Emilia might be next.

His hand curled into a fist, knuckles pale.

“Rem…” he said at last, voice low but firm. “Do me a favor.”

“Anything!” Rem said quickly, without hesitation.

To think… this is the same woman who killed Rom and me in another life. And now she’d do anything for me. The thought twisted something in Subaru’s chest—grief, guilt, gratitude, he wasn’t sure which was stronger.

“I need you to keep a close eye on Emilia,” he said, voice steady despite the ache inside. Flam and Garassis could keep Felt safe for now—but Emilia had no one else. No one she could truly rely on.

“What about you?” Rem asked, concern flickering in her eyes.

“I can take care of myself,” Subaru replied with a weak smile, the words hollow in his mouth.
I’m already screwed, Rem… I’m just trying to limit the damage now.

“I think Emilia’s going to attempt the trial tonight,” he added, his chest tightening the moment the words left his mouth. The moment he acknowledged it, the magical contract flared—gripping him like an invisible vice, the compulsion to take the trial gnawing at his insides.

“I need to go prepare for that,” he forced out.

Rem didn’t question him further. She simply nodded. “I’ll find Lady Emilia… and stay with her.”

“Thanks, Rem. Really.” He meant it more than she could know.

“Be careful, Subaru…” she said gently, then turned and walked away.

---

“You seem tense,” Felt said, eyeing Subaru carefully.

“A little,” he admitted, the knot in his gut refusing to loosen. He’d already explained the situation with Garfiel to her, but the moment he so much as thought about telling her the truth about Roswaal, that creeping, fiery pain clawed its way up his spine.

Now they stood outside the stone temple where the trial was to be held. Villagers mingled with the half-bloods who were acting as their jailers, all gathered to watch Emilia’s attempt. Subaru caught Garfiel glaring at him from the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“So Emilia just walks in there and… what? Fights something?” Felt frowned at the temple.

“No idea how it works,” Subaru said with a sigh. “I doubt it’s some mythical beast, though. From what I’ve seen, it’s worse than that. If you're not qualified, it hurts. Bad. Roswaal tried it himself and look what happened to him.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Felt muttered, folding her arms.

“I still need to go have words with that Roswaal guy. We’re not leaving until I break you out of this stupid contract,” she added firmly.

“You shouldn’t talk to Roswaal,” Subaru said, his voice suddenly cold.

“Pardon?” Felt blinked.

“I’ll handle it,” he said with a strained smile, trying to sound casual. “No need for you to get involved. You’d probably just make things worse.”

“How so?!” she snapped, clearly offended.

“You’re… rather brash,” he said, dodging the real reason.

If he touches Felt… if he even looks at her wrong…

The familiar burn began to crawl up his back again, silencing the rest of the thought before it could take shape.

“I’m ready,” Emilia said as she stepped forward. She had been silent for a long while, quietly communing with the lesser spirits. Now, standing at the base of the stone steps, her voice carried a calm resolve.

“You’ll do fine, Lady Emilia,” Rem said with an encouraging nod.

“Let’s get this over with,” Garfiel muttered, arms crossed, watching intently.

Subaru forced a smile. “Go get ’em.”

Nodding once, Emilia began her ascent up the weathered temple steps. As she approached the entrance, the ancient stone glowed with a soft, aqua-blue light. A quiet murmur rippled through the crowd of half-bloods watching nearby—relief, hope, and anticipation all mingling in the air.

“She’s been accepted for the trial,” Garfiel smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

Then it happened.

You will take the trial.

The command echoed in Subaru’s mind like a chime struck too close to the bone. His body moved before he could think—one step, then another, his feet carrying him forward against his will.

Everything blurred. The voices around him became distant, muffled like he was underwater. Someone called out his name. Another hand grabbed his arm as the glow of the temple faded out. 

“ Shamak ,” Subaru muttered reflexively.

The grip released instantly, followed by a startled gasp. The world kept spinning around him, but the glow of the temple returned—bright, pulsing.

You will take the trial.

You will take the trial.

You will…

Subaru blinked. The glow ahead dimmed—and lying before him was Emilia.

Motionless.

The next thing he knew, the world was gone.

Only darkness remained.

Chapter 25: ARC 3 - Chapter 5: Found

ARC III

---

Chapter V:

Found

---

There was a rhythmic beeping. A pulse. Steady, mechanical, intrusive.

Subaru’s mouth felt like sandpaper, his lips cracked and dry. His throat ached. Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes—and immediately winced. The light was blinding, harsh against his vision. Around him, unfamiliar machines beeped and blinked, wires and tubes snaking from his body like the roots of some strange plant.

He lay in a hospital bed.

He felt... wrong. Weak in a way he couldn’t describe. Lifting his hand was like trying to move a stone. It trembled in the air. His arm was thin—far too thin. Bone and skin. It barely looked like it belonged to him.

Turning his head, every muscle in his neck protesting, Subaru saw a woman sitting beside him in a chair.

She looked middle-aged and worn, with short brown hair and heavy eyes. She held a paperback book, though her attention wasn’t really on it. For a moment, Subaru stared at her in silence.

And then—like a whisper from a lifelong buried—something stirred in his mind.

“...Mom?” he croaked. His voice was hoarse, brittle as old paper.

The woman froze.

Her eyes slowly lifted from the book to meet his—and the book tumbled from her hands, slapping the sterile floor with a thud.

“Subaru?” she gasped.

A moment later, she was on him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, sobbing uncontrollably. The tears fell freely, warm against his skin. Her embrace was familiar in a way that made his chest ache.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Could only feel.

“N-Nurse!” she called out, fumbling for the button by the bed, pressing it again and again. “Nurse!”

A woman in scrubs rushed in, gasped—and then immediately turned on her heel and ran back out.

In moments, the room became a storm of motion. Doctors and nurses rushed in, machines beeped louder, and his mother refused to let go of his hand.

“You’re awake,” she wept. “Oh my God, you’re awake.”

Subaru could only stare at her, dazed. Where am I? What is happening?

A doctor, tall and thin with white hair and round spectacles, stepped in beside the bed and examined him closely.

“How much do you remember, young man?” he asked gently.

Subaru opened his mouth to respond. “...Water,” he rasped.

“Yuka,” the doctor called, “get some water. And prepare the scanners—we’re doing a full workup.”

A nurse nodded and hurried out as Subaru leaned back against the pillows, still trying to grasp what was happening.

Eight years? A coma? The words bounced around in his skull without sticking.

The tests came quickly after that. Scans, reflex checks, bloodwork. The flurry of medical attention blurred together.

Finally, the older doctor sat at his bedside again.

“You’ve been in a coma for eight years,” he said plainly. “You suffered severe head trauma from a fall off a play structure. After you didn’t regain consciousness, we monitored your brain activity—it was always active. We just didn’t know how to bring you back. In the end, it seems... you came back on your own.”

Subaru listened numbly. His body was weak, and his thoughts scattered. He felt like he was floating between two worlds—caught between waking and a dream that clung to him like fog.

“We’ll have to monitor you closely for a while,” the doctor continued. “It’ll take time to rebuild muscle strength. You’ll be starting physical therapy soon, and we’ll watch for any neurological issues.”

“Neurological issues?” Subaru echoed, voice still scratchy.

“In cases like yours, there’s always risk—speech, mobility, memory—but so far, you seem... remarkably intact. We’re optimistic.”

Subaru nodded slowly, but the doubt in his chest only deepened.

Eight years...

Was it just a dream?

“Mom…” Subaru murmured. She knelt beside him, gently stroking his hand, never once leaving his side. Her touch was warm, grounding—like something out of a dream he’d forgotten he missed.

“Where’s Dad?” he asked.

“He’s on his way,” she said softly. “Along with Maia.”

“Maia?” Subaru blinked. The name didn’t register.

His mother’s expression shifted. “After a few years… we decided to try again. We thought it might help us heal.” Her voice quivered slightly. “Maia is your little sister.”

“I have… a little sister?” he said, eyes drifting to the ceiling in disbelief. “Eight years… how old is she?”

“Six,” she replied. “She’s always wanted to meet you. The real you, I mean.”

Subaru turned to her, and with all the strength he could muster, gave her hand a light squeeze. “I’m sorry, Mom…”

“Don’t—” she said quickly, her eyes brimming with tears. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

“I should’ve been here.”

Her hand tightened around his. “Subaru, no. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, voice still rough. “You know this is going to suck, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Can you imagine how much homework I’ve missed?”

She laughed, a genuine sound of relief. “Well, I’ve always said you were smart. I’m sure you’ll catch up just fine.”

“Yeah… I suppose.”

Subaru was starting to drift again when the door opened. A tall man stepped in wearing a pressed business suit, looking a little stiff in it. Behind him was a small girl hiding halfway behind his leg.

“How you doing, champ?” his dad said with a grin. It was a familiar voice—warm and slightly teasing. Just like he remembered.

Subaru raised an eyebrow. “Who bribed you to wear that thing?”

“Medical bills aren’t cheap,” his father sighed, loosening his tie a little. “I took a job with a corporate firm a while back. Turns out, I’m good at it.”

The little girl peeked out from behind him, staring at Subaru with wide eyes. She had their mother’s features—same soft eyes, same rounded cheeks—but she’d inherited their father’s nose.

“Daddy…” she whispered. “Is that really Suba?”

He knelt beside her and gave her a gentle nudge on the back. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Maia hesitated, then tiptoed forward until she was standing beside Subaru’s bed. She looked up at him shyly, her voice quiet but clear.

“I’m Natsuki Maia!”

Subaru smiled. “I’m Natsuki Subaru. It’s really good to meet you… Maia.”

Her face lit up with a wide, bashful grin. “You look funny.”

Subaru let out a tired laugh. “I’ve been asleep a long time.”

Maia nodded solemnly, then reached out and touched his hand with both of hers. “I’m glad you woke up.”

So was he. Even if he didn’t understand how or why—right now, this moment felt real.

And maybe that was enough.

---

“This sucks,” Subaru panted, sweat beading on his forehead.

His legs felt like jelly, every step a struggle as Nurse Fumi stood by watching him with patient eyes. It was his third week of physical therapy. He’d been discharged from the hospital, but now he was stuck coming back three times a week—to relearn how to do things most toddlers could manage without thinking.

“Learning to walk again sucks, I know,” Fumi said, her tone encouraging. “But you’re getting better.”

“I’m seventeen,” Subaru growled, gripping the parallel bars. “I shouldn’t need a damn wheelchair!”

He took another shaky step. His legs wobbled. And then, predictably, he collapsed—caught just in time by Fumi before he hit the ground.

“Let’s take a break,” she offered gently.

“No. I want to keep going,” Subaru muttered through clenched teeth.

“I was being polite,” she replied, already helping him into the chair. “You’re taking a break.”

Subaru slumped back with a sigh, pouting. “This is going too slow.”

“You’re already ahead of schedule,” Fumi said, not unkindly. “Rush this, and you’ll end up hurting yourself. These things take time. Now come on—arm work next. Give your legs a rest.”

Later, when his mother wheeled him up the ramp into their home, Subaru barely had time to breathe before Maia came charging down the hall. She leaped into his lap with all the force of a cannonball.

“Gah—Maia!” Subaru winced under the impact.

“Maia, be gentle!” their mother scolded.

“But I finally have a big brother who talks!” Maia whined. “Besides, Big Brother can take it, right?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Subaru grumbled.

“You gonna play with me now?” Maia asked hopefully. “I finally have someone to play Mario Kart with! Akio’s on vacation in Hawaii with her family, and Mom won’t race me anymore!”

“He’s got schoolwork, Maia,” their mother reminded her.

“But it’s summer break!”

“Well, I did miss eight years of school,” Subaru pointed out with a crooked smile. “Tell you what—once I finish today’s assignments, I’ll play a few rounds. I used to be really good.”

That seemed to satisfy her. She slid off his lap and scampered off to beg their mom to take her to the park instead. Subaru promised he’d be fine, and besides, he had her number if anything came up.

Alone in the quiet, he got to work.

It was strange how some things came back so easily. His math was a bit rusty but manageable. Language arts, though… that was where the real catch-up work lay.

I did a lot of math back in…

He paused.

Right. That wasn’t real.

Or was it?

The doctors had warned him about this.

"It’s normal to struggle to separate reality from dreams after a coma, especially one that lasted as long as yours," one of them had told him. "The brain adapts in unusual ways. If the memories start interfering with your daily life, or you feel anxiety, confusion, or depression—talk to someone."

They’d offered him a therapist. So far, he’d declined.

It’s fine. I can handle it.

Still, the memories lingered. Vivid. Detailed. Like an entire second life.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell. He had coursework to finish. If he wanted to avoid ending up in a classroom full of kids Maia’s age… he had to get his act together.

And besides—he’d promised her a rematch.

---

“All right, class, settle down,” Mr. Ito said as he walked into the room.

Subaru sat in the back row, his chin resting on his hand as he lazily gazed out the window. It had been half a year since he’d woken from the coma. In that time, his world had slowly stitched itself back together. He could walk on his own again—no more wheelchair, no more walker. That phase had been humbling. He’d felt like a grandpa at seventeen.

Luckily, his mom had made it her personal mission to fatten him up again. And Maia? She bugged him constantly, asking him to play or take her out on bike rides. He didn’t mind. It was nice, really. Quiet. Familiar.

He didn’t have many friends these days. His family had moved to Tokyo after his dad got a new job, and all his old childhood acquaintances had scattered. The story of his coma—how he’d been out for eight years and then just… woke up—had made the rounds. A few old family friends had sent letters. Some childhood buddies had reached out briefly. But that was about it. People moved on.

Now he was in a specialized class—half catch-up course, half academic pressure cooker. It was designed for students like him: people who needed to cover years of material in a fraction of the time. It was grueling. Every two months felt like an entire school year. Still, he was holding his own.

“So, Suba,” came a voice from beside him, “you doing anything after class?”

He turned to see Echidna—white-haired, sharp-eyed, and effortlessly captivating. She sat next to him most days, though he still wasn’t sure why. Every guy in the class was half in love with her, but she always gravitated toward him. Maybe it had started back when he was still walker-bound and she’d felt bad for him.

From what he’d picked up, Echidna came from money. Her parents were wealthy but distant, and for a few years, she’d vanished from school. When she finally returned, she threw herself into her studies and was something of a genius. Subaru had never seen her miss a single point on anything.

“No plans,” he said, shrugging. “Maia’ll probably want me to take her out on the bike again. She’s been obsessed with the park lately.”

Echidna grinned. “That’s cute. She’s always looking out for her big brother.”

Subaru glanced away, slightly embarrassed. He was used to teasing, but not like this—not so casual, so natural.

“Maybe we should hang out,” she added.

Subaru blinked.

Was she… asking him to hang out? Like… hang out, hang out ?

No way, he thought, feeling heat rise to his ears. She’s not asking me out. Don’t be an idiot. She’s the popular rich girl. Get a grip.

“I mean… if you want to,” Subaru said, trying his best to sound cool and laid-back. “I guess that’s fine.”

“Great,” Echidna smirked. “How about I join you and little Miss Maia for that bike ride? I’ve been cooped up inside the last few days, and all my friends are off shopping.”

“Shopping? Why don’t you just go with them?” Subaru asked, genuinely confused.

“In Paris,” she added casually.

Subaru blinked.

Right… he thought. I don’t know what level of rich you have to be where flying halfway around the world just to shop is a normal thing… but apparently, it’s a level that exists.

“Uh, sure,” he said. “After class, then.”

“Subaru, care to join us?” Mr. Ito’s voice cut through the conversation like a cold splash of water. “Since you seem confident enough to chat during the lesson, perhaps you can tell us the length of side C?”

Subaru’s brain scrambled. A is 68, B is 28 so… crap, what’s the square root of—

“73.539105243401, sir,” Echidna said lazily, not even looking up from her notes.

There was a brief pause before Mr. Ito sighed. “Thank you, Echidna. Perhaps next time you could let the student I called on answer the question?”

“Yes, sir,” she said sweetly, shooting Subaru a sly grin.

“You’re like a supercomputer. Why the hell are you in this class again?” Subaru muttered to Echidna.

“It’s required,” she said with a shrug, “and my parents wanted me to. You know how it is—mandatory excellence.”

“Right…” Subaru shook his head, still baffled.

When class finally wrapped up, Subaru made his way home. Waiting outside was Maia, already bouncing with excitement, her pink helmet slightly crooked and her purple bike plastered with glittery stickers.

“Suba! Can we go to the park? Aiko and Mimi are gonna meet me at the swings!” she chirped.

There was a slight chill in the air, a crisp breeze hinting at winter. It was December, but unseasonably warm—almost unsettling, like the weather couldn’t make up its mind.

“Yeah, just hold on,” Subaru said, grabbing his helmet and strapping it on. He pulled out his red racing bike, the one his mom had made him swear to always wear a helmet for. He knew why—one bad fall had cost them eight years. He wasn’t sure that fear would ever really leave her… or him.

I can’t imagine putting them through that again.

As he wheeled his bike over, he looked down at Maia. “Listen—someone from my class is meeting us at the park, so don’t say anything… embarrassing.”

“OHHHHHH! Suba’s bringing a girl!” Maia gasped dramatically, her eyes wide with glee. “Is she your girlfriend ?! Mom would be so proud!”

“See? That’s exactly what I mean,” Subaru sighed. “And no, we’re just friends.”

Maia grinned like she didn’t believe a word of it.

Riding alongside Maia, Subaru’s jacket flapped in the cold breeze as they sped down the quiet streets toward the park. The rhythm of the pedals was steady, but his legs were already burning. Recovery still had a long way to go, but he was far better off than he’d been a few months ago.

As they neared the bike path, he spotted Echidna waiting, leaning casually on her sleek black cruiser. It had a little basket and silver handlebars, like something out of an old movie. She smiled and waved when she saw them.

Maia immediately gave him a look. A sly smile. Subaru groaned.

“You must be Maia,” Echidna said with a warm grin. “Subaru told me all about you.”

“Subaru told me nothing about you,” Maia replied sweetly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re really pretty.”

“That’s enough,” Subaru muttered, flustered. “Let’s get to the park—your friends are waiting.”

Chuckling, the three of them rode off again. The crisp air nipped at Subaru’s cheeks as he pushed himself to keep up. He hated how easily he tired out now. Still, it beat needing a walker.

When they arrived, Maia’s two friends were already by the swings, bundled up in coats and scarves. Subaru was relieved to see Aiko’s mom sitting on the park bench nearby, nose in a book. If his mom found out he’d left Maia unsupervised, he’d never hear the end of it.

“Ready?” Echidna asked, already nudging her bike toward a side path.

“Yeah… I guess,” Subaru said, catching his breath as Maia ran off to join her friends. She gave him a knowing wink and a giggle.

Nothing but trouble with that one.

He followed Echidna as they veered away from the main path, riding further until they reached the far side of a small man-made pond. It was quiet here, the air still and the trees bare. A single cherry blossom tree stood by the water’s edge, its branches skeletal but elegant.

They parked their bikes behind a bush, and Subaru followed her to the tree. She sat down beneath it, her gaze fixed on the water. The scene was peaceful… maybe even romantic.

Nope. Stop that. We’re just friends.

Subaru sat beside her, unsure of what to say. The silence was comfortable but heavy.

“I heard you had some vivid dreams while you were in the coma,” Echidna said softly, eyes still on the pond.

“I… yeah,” he said after a pause, picking up a small stick and tossing it into the water. “You could say that.”

“Mind if I pry?” Echidna asked, her lips curling into a curious smirk.

“My doctor says it’s better if I don’t dwell on it too much,” Subaru muttered, picking at the grass beside him.

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “But do you?”

Subaru stared at the water, watching as ripples spread outward from where the stick had landed. “I don’t know… I guess I do.”

In truth, he thought about it constantly. How could he not? He’d lived an entire lifetime inside his head, and now reality felt almost foreign. He missed those people—missed the closeness, the struggles, the feeling of purpose. Yet, what started as a pleasant dream had eventually twisted into a relentless nightmare.

“What was it like?” Echidna pressed gently, leaning closer. “I’m curious. You always hear stories about lucid dreaming, people creating entire worlds inside their minds… but I’ve never actually met someone who’s experienced it.”

Subaru let out a soft sigh. “It felt… real. Completely real. I had a whole life there. Friends, a job—well, a smithing apprenticeship, anyway. There was this clown guy who I despised more than anything, magic existed, and…” He hesitated, his voice becoming quiet, distant. “I died several times.”

“You know you can only really die once,” Echidna teased lightly, nudging his shoulder.

“I know,” Subaru said, forcing a weak smile, though his voice carried a bitter edge. “It just felt so real. Every single time.”

Echidna studied him closely. “What else?”

Subaru shook his head, a sense of unease creeping into his voice. “Sometimes I feel like I’m losing it. I keep wondering if any of this is even real, or if I’m still stuck in some twisted dream.” His voice softened to a whisper. “How would I even know the difference?”

Echidna’s expression grew gentle and thoughtful. “You wouldn’t, I suppose. And honestly, something like that would throw anyone off balance.”

“So, tell me about you…” Subaru said, trying to change the subject, hoping it would ground him back into reality.

“Me? Well, my dad’s the CEO of a pharmaceutical company. My mom, she…”

Subaru heard her voice trail off, losing focus on her words. His gaze drifted across the pond's surface, memories swimming in his vision. Felt, her mischievous grin flashing across his mind; Rom, his gruff kindness so vivid it ached; Emilia’s gentle sincerity; Rem’s steadfast loyalty; Ram’s fierce pride—everyone felt so real, yet impossibly distant.

An unsettling emptiness churned inside him, something sharp and uncomfortable. He knew this world was real—had to be real. He was awake, his family was here, no death, no witch cult, no Roswaal. Life was straightforward now, filled with textbooks and homework, parental expectations, and Maia's endless energy. This was simplicity itself compared to the nightmares he’d endured.

But why did it all feel so terribly wrong?

“Subaru, are you even listening?” Echidna nudged him, pulling him back from the haze.

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Subaru stammered, quickly grasping at the fragments he’d overheard. “You were saying something about spending winter break in Italy last year, right?”

“That was five minutes ago,” Echidna sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. She glanced up at the sky as twilight painted it shades of purple and orange. “It's getting late. Maia will wonder what happened to you.”

“Right,” Subaru said, rising to his feet and offering a hand to Echidna. “Sorry, I guess I'm still a bit scatterbrained.”

She took his hand, her touch gentle and warm, grounding him momentarily. Together, they biked back to the playground, where Maia was reluctantly waiting, arms crossed and impatient.

“It took you forever,” Maia pouted, tugging on Subaru’s sleeve. “I’m starving!”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Subaru said quietly, glancing one last time at Echidna, who smiled softly in understanding.

As they started toward home, something caught Subaru's eye—a flash of blonde hair beneath the flickering streetlight by the swings. His heart skipped painfully, recognition jolting through him. He blinked hard, his pulse quickening.

But when he looked again, no one was there.

It’s just your mind playing tricks. It's nothing, he told himself forcefully, trying to shake the lingering unease.

“Hurry up, Suba!” Maia’s voice broke through again, pulling him forward.

At dinner, Subaru tried to engage, to laugh at his father's jokes, to tease Maia about avoiding her peas, to savor his mother's cooking. Yet he felt distant, disconnected, floating somewhere above the room. The warmth and laughter felt strangely hollow.

When his mother kissed him goodnight, the tenderness of her touch almost made him ache. “Goodnight, Subaru. Sleep well.”

As his father prepared to leave, he paused by Subaru’s doorway, smiling gently. “How about joining me on my morning stroll tomorrow, now that you’re back on your feet?”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Subaru replied, forcing a convincing smile. “I’ll be up bright and early.”

When the door closed softly behind his father, Subaru sank onto his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, feeling an ache deep inside—a longing for something he knew shouldn't be real, yet couldn't bring himself to forget.

Falling asleep, Subaru found himself sitting across from another version of himself, dressed in fine clothes stained crimson with blood.

“You can't forget any of it, you know,” his other self whispered harshly. “This is the false world. Why are we playing house? You and I both know we can't leave them alone—to suffer.”

“What about us?” Subaru retorted bitterly. “Why do we have to suffer? Why can’t we have peace? Why can't we just stay home, with our family?”

“Our family?!” his other self roared. “Rom is lost! Felt will be left behind with Roswaal, and we're trapped!”

“None of that is real!” Subaru shouted back, fists clenched. “It was a nightmare—a horrible nightmare! None of it should matter!”

“How many times did we die?!” the bloodied Subaru demanded, voice breaking. “Ninety-two! Ninety-two dragon-forsaken times! Do you think that's something you can just forget?”

“It was just a nightmare!” Subaru argued, desperate now. “We're awake, finally awake, with Mom, Dad, Maia—with—”

“With her?” his other self leaned back, eyes hollow. “Wake up… we need to wake up.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Subaru whispered, tears threatening to spill. “What if I just want to stay?”

“Wake up…”

“Suba, wake up!”

Subaru jolted awake, his heart pounding as Maia shook him gently. “I went to get some water, and I heard you talking in your sleep,” she said, voice trembling.

Subaru glanced around the familiar room, trying to ground himself. “I’m… I’m alright.”

“Suba, are you sure you’re okay?” Maia's eyes were wide with worry. “You kept saying… something about it not being real.”

“I’m fine,” Subaru reassured softly, forcing a smile. “Come on, let's get you that water.”

He guided Maia to the kitchen, filled a glass with tap water, and walked her gently back to her room. As he tucked her in, she clung to his sleeve, eyes pleading.

“Suba… you won't go back to being like before, right? I like having a big brother…”

His chest tightened painfully, and he knelt to meet her gaze, voice gentle. “No… I promise I won’t. Now sleep.”

He closed Maia’s door softly, checked briefly on his sleeping parents, and then returned to his room. Unable to shake the persistent ache in his chest, he grabbed his winter jacket, slipped into his shoes, and quietly wheeled his bike outside.

Riding to the park in the chill of night, he approached the playground, heart thumping harder with each step closer to the playset. He shivered involuntarily, climbing the familiar steps toward the slide—the same slide where it all began.

“I was wondering when you’d come,” he murmured to the empty air.

“I think that was supposed to be my line.”

Subaru turned sharply, finding Echidna standing beneath the flickering streetlamp. Snow began to gently fall around her, illuminating her silver-white hair in the soft amber glow.

“I wanted… all of this to be real,” Subaru admitted, his voice breaking.

“You never truly accepted it,” Echidna said quietly, her expression unreadable yet gentle. “I wondered if you’d ever come here.”

“I always think about them,” Subaru whispered, eyes glistening. “My parents. Imagine losing your child, just vanishing. It wasn't their fault—it wasn't fair…” His voice faded, tears slipping freely down his face. “How could I ever leave them again?”

“I can imagine it must be agony,” Echidna said softly. “You could stay here forever, if you turned back now.”

“This is your trial, right? You'd just fail me anyway,” Subaru responded bitterly.

“To fail you would imply you're not worth my effort,” Echidna said coolly. “But if you wish to hide away in this dream world, who am I to deny you?”

Subaru stared at the slide, his heart twisting painfully. “What was the test, Echidna? To see if I dared face reality? To let go of my longing for how things used to be—for a world that can never truly exist?”

“Your interpretation is as valid as any,” Echidna replied calmly.

Subaru laughed bitterly, tears welling up as he gazed down the slide. One step would take him back to reality, and away from this beautiful illusion forever.

“Was she real?” he asked quietly.

“Who?”

“Maia…”

“This world is a fabrication,” Echidna's voice was gentle yet merciless. “You know it's not real. Maia represents the hope you carry, the belief that your parents might have moved forward and filled the void you left behind. But you know she isn't real. None of this is.”

Tears streamed freely down Subaru's face. He'd always known deep down—every beautiful moment had felt wrong somehow.

“You're cruel…” he whispered, fists trembling. “Putting something so wonderful in front of me, knowing I could never keep it.”

“It wouldn't be much of a trial if it were easy. It is the hardest of three, for you,” Echidna said gently. “Now, you must choose.”

Subaru stared at the slide, heart pounding painfully.

“Subaru!” Voices called to him from behind. Turning, he saw his mother, father, and Maia desperately searching, illuminated by the soft glow of a flashlight.

“Subaru, where are you?!” his mother cried, her voice strained with worry.

“Suba!” Maia called, eyes wide and frightened.

You're cruel, Echidna…

“I love you all,” he whispered, his voice breaking. With a final, determined step, Subaru slid down the slide.

Chapter 26: ARC 3 - Chapter 6: Out of Control

ARC III

---

Chapter VI:

Out of Control

---

Waking, Subaru felt groggy and disoriented. He was lying on the cold stone floor, sprawled awkwardly. Beside him, Emilia lay curled up tightly, her body trembling. For a moment, Subaru wasn’t sure what was real.

How long had he been trapped inside that trial? It had felt like months… but if that were true, they’d both have starved by now. Yet, Emilia was still here.

With difficulty, he reached over and gently shook her shoulder, urgently whispering, “Emilia… come on, wake up.”

Slowly, Emilia opened her eyes, but she didn’t seem to fully see him. Tears streamed down her face as she muttered desperately, “It… it wasn’t me… I kept telling her it wasn’t me!” Her voice rose, filled with terror.

“Emilia, listen—it's alright,” Subaru spoke softly, feeling his own heart ache at the lingering pain of the trial. Memories of Maia, a sister who had never existed, weighed heavily on his soul.

“No… no… please, Puck… help me…” Emilia sobbed uncontrollably.

Understanding she was trapped within a lingering nightmare, Subaru quickly scooped her into his arms, cradling her protectively as he rose to his feet.

I have to get her out of here… Subaru thought urgently, carrying her out of the tomb into the night air. He stumbled slightly, feeling weak and drained, yet pushed forward. Everything outside appeared unchanged—calm and eerily ordinary beneath the moonlight.

“First of three…” he murmured, recalling the words the woman had spoken in the trial, her face now obscured in his memory.

Below, the gathered crowd watched anxiously as Subaru carefully set Emilia down. “Can you stand?” he asked gently.

“I-I think so,” Emilia whispered, steadying herself against him.

Together, they slowly descended the steps of the tomb. Before they reached the bottom, Felt stormed over and, without warning, slapped Subaru across the face.

“What was that for?!” Subaru snapped, startled, his cheek stinging sharply.

“You blasted me with that black smoke!” Felt shouted angrily. “I nearly vomited from the feeling of nothingness!”

Did I?  

Subaru struggled to recall what had happened. He vaguely remembered being forced forward by Roswaal’s command—and using magic instinctively to push through. The realization that he'd attacked Felt filled him with bitter anger and regret.

“I… I didn’t realize it was you,” Subaru admitted quietly, unable to meet her gaze. “I wasn’t myself. I’m sorry.”

Felt paused, clearly caught off guard by his sincerity. She sighed deeply, her expression softening slightly. “I’m fine. Flam and Grassis were about to take you down, but…” She shook her head, irritation fading to mild concern.

Turning to walk away, Felt stopped abruptly when Subaru grabbed her wrist gently. “Please…” he began, voice heavy with unspoken regret. But the words wouldn’t come, and he let her go.

Felt stared at him, confused and uncertain, before finally nodding in understanding. “Fine. You look exhausted. Let's get you somewhere you can rest.”

---

No sooner had Subaru lain down in the back of the carriage to rest than Ram knocked sharply. He wanted desperately to ignore her, yet found himself unable to refuse, fully aware of her purpose.

“Roswaal sent me to fetch you,” Ram stated plainly.

Subaru resisted the urge to groan, every muscle protesting as he forced himself upright.

He’s not giving me any chance to recover… no space to plan—

Pain surged through him briefly, cutting off the thought.

Stiffly, Subaru followed Ram back to the cottage where Roswaal rested. The sight of the mage filled him with boiling rage, nearly overwhelming the stabbing sensation of pain that kept him restrained.

“Ahhhh, Subaru, you’ve returned,” Roswaal greeted smoothly. “Ram dear, find your sister and have her prepare supper. Afterwards, we'll have our evening session.”

Ram bowed, her gaze flickering warningly toward Subaru before she obediently departed. The hour was far too late for a meal, but Subaru assumed it was merely an excuse to leave them alone.

In the tense silence that followed, Roswaal regarded Subaru with an infuriating smirk. “So, you undertook the trial… Tell me, what was the result?”

“I passed,” Subaru replied through gritted teeth, his fists clenched tightly.

Roswaal chuckled lightly. “Such hostility! But understandable. You see, Subaru, I don’t mind if you despise me. You’re merely a useful tool for my master’s revival. Controlling you without your leash would be… difficult.”

“Only one way to find out,” Subaru growled, fingers twitching toward his sword, the ensuing pain barely restraining his fury.

“As entertaining as a fight might be, I am in no condition to indulge you,” Roswaal responded casually, smirking. “I believe I'd win, though at a considerable cost. For now, tell me more about your trial. You said you passed?”

“I was back home… for months. A girl was controlling the trials. I can’t remember her face clearly, only her words,” Subaru forced himself to speak, every word bitter on his tongue. “I assume she was Echidna.”

Roswaal’s expression grew briefly envious, then settled into curiosity. “Indeed, that would be correct. Go on.”

“It was the first of three trials, as I understood it. Meaning there are more,” Subaru explained reluctantly.

“How fascinating,” Roswaal mused. “Then the solution is simple: you'll take the remaining two trials.”

Subaru scowled. Of course… “Tomorrow, I’ll—”

“I know you, Subaru,” Roswaal interrupted with a chilling smile. “Given even a moment to think, you'll find a way to defy me. No, you'll return to my Master’s tomb tonight and complete all remaining trials.”

Sudden agony shot through Subaru's body, bringing him to one knee, clutching his chest to stifle a cry. It felt as though molten fire coursed through his veins.

“W-Why?!” Subaru gasped as the pain subsided.

“Because you’re clever,” Roswaal replied smoothly, pulling a book from beneath his pillow, opening it reverently. “Any opportunity you get, you’ll oppose me. Best to remove any chance for error.”

Subaru stared at the book, realization dawning. “Beatrice has the same one…”

“Yes,” Roswaal said calmly, stroking the pages tenderly.

Subaru’s mind raced. The book seemed familiar in another way. “Wait… Petelgeuse had something similar.”

Roswaal scoffed disdainfully. “This is the true Book of Wisdom. Those Gospels are merely inferior copies.”

It made sense—Roswaal’s devotion to the Witch of Greed, his willingness to enslave Subaru. Manipulating the Witch’s Cult was just another step.

“You’re… part of the cult?” Subaru demanded, the pain intensifying as he struggled to maintain composure.

Roswaal’s eyes flashed with contempt. “I would never stoop to joining such a ridiculous organization. However, manipulating them to serve my ends is another matter.”

He speaks the truth. But even if he isn’t a cultist, he’s no better than them.

A sudden knock at the door drew their attention. Roswaal swiftly concealed the book once more. “Enter,” he commanded calmly.

Ram and Rem entered quietly. “Rem has finished tending to Lady Emilia,” Ram reported dutifully.

“What shall I prepare for supper, Master?” Rem asked cheerfully, oblivious to the dark tension hanging in the air.

Subaru observed the sisters quietly, wondering how loyal they'd remain if they knew Roswaal’s true nature.

Ram might stay loyal regardless, but Rem… her devotion to Ram outweighs her loyalty to Roswaal.

“Anything you wish, dear Rem,” Roswaal replied with a deceptively gentle smile. “I trust your judgment.”

“Ram, I feel loath to trouble you further, but could you kindly escort my young apprentice to the Tomb? He has an urgent task that cannot wait,” Roswaal said smoothly, his eyes gleaming.

“As you wish, Master Roswaal,” Ram responded dutifully.

“I could take him, if you prefer,” Rem offered, glancing between Subaru and Ram.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, dear Rem. However, I am quite famished, and Subaru might be occupied for some time,” Roswaal added knowingly, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Subaru rose stiffly, feeling as though invisible strings forced him to move, and silently followed Ram out of the room. Rem watched him go, her eyes filled with concern.

The night air was cold, biting into his already aching muscles. Subaru did his best to ignore it, knowing Roswaal intended to push him to the breaking point.

With any luck, he’ll get me killed on his own, Subaru thought bitterly.

“You’ve been unusually quiet lately,” Ram remarked casually, walking beside him.

Subaru grunted noncommittally, unwilling to risk speaking and triggering more pain. He knew Ram wouldn't sympathize; after all, she was Roswaal’s loyal follower through and through.

Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes drew Subaru’s attention, but before he could react, he was knocked flat on his back. Gasping for breath, he looked up to see Patrasche looming over him.

“Raaaaaa!” she cried, nudging him insistently with her snout.

“Patrasche!” Otto appeared breathlessly from the bushes, “Stop running off like… Mr. Natsuki?”

“Ouch…” Subaru muttered weakly, pinned beneath the concerned gaze of his earth dragon.

“Raaaaaa!” Patrasche repeated stubbornly.

“You're the merchant who took Subaru to the manor,” Ram noted coolly, her gaze sharp. “Now you’re chauffeuring Lady Felt?”

“Oh, um, yes. Mr. Natsuki helped me secure the position,” Otto explained sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Otto… would you mind getting Patrasche off my chest?” Subaru wheezed as Patrasche tilted her head curiously.

“Raaaaaa!” she stubbornly sat down on top of him, effectively pinning him in place.

Subaru groaned, feeling his breathing grow shallow beneath her weight.

“No good,” Otto shook his head apologetically. “She’s been insisting that you’ve been acting strange ever since we arrived. Apparently, she refuses to let you out of her sight now. She was getting more restless in the stable, and when I went to feed her, she took off.”

I can’t blame her for worrying… maybe if I could just—

Pain surged through him, causing Subaru to abandon any fleeting thought of escape. The anxiety tightening in his chest felt even worse than the pain itself.

“Raaaaaa!” Patrasche noticed his distress and nudged him frantically, searching for the source of his discomfort.

“Subaru has an important task from Roswaal,” Ram said firmly. “The earth dragon must move.”

“You're welcome to try convincing her,” Otto sighed, looking helpless. “But it seems like she’s ready to stay put all night if necessary.”

“Who’s staying put all night?” Garfiel emerged from the shadows, his arms crossed.

“Oh, Garf, perfect timing,” Ram greeted him flatly. “Could you remove this creature from Subaru’s chest?”

“I was getting comfortable. There's no need to—ahhh!” Subaru was wracked with another wave of pain, his body tightening reflexively.

There's no way out of these trials, he realized bitterly.

“Raaaaaa!” Patrasche became increasingly agitated, desperately prodding Subaru as if she could sense his invisible torment.

“Why should I? Looks like the beast is fussing over him plenty,” Garfiel scoffed. “Don’t see why I gotta lift a finger.”

“I asked nicely,” Ram said evenly. “Would you truly make a girl handle something so troublesome herself?”

“Tch, hardly fair!” Garfiel grumbled. “Besides, what do I care if he stays pinned all night?”

“He’s on an errand from my master. I’d rather not have him delayed,” Ram replied calmly.

“Yeah, well maybe I want to mess up Roswaal’s plans. Bastard ain’t exactly my buddy, ya know?” Garfiel leaned in, his glare sharp and suspicious.

Subaru’s heart quickened. Garfiel hates Roswaal...maybe I can use—

Pain burst through his body, savage and merciless. Patrasche frantically nudged him, trying to identify the cause as Subaru fought desperately to contain his agony.

Ignore it...I need a plan, a way out—

But his body rebelled, each thought of defiance punished by an excruciating torment that blurred his vision. He screamed, convulsing on the ground, the relentless agony forcing submission.

“That's it! Get off him, you stupid dragon!” Garfiel growled, seizing Patrasche by her sides and heaving her off Subaru with a brutal suplex into the dirt.

“Graahhh!” Patrasche groaned weakly, stunned by the impact.

“Patrasche!” Otto cried, rushing over to check on the earth dragon.

Subaru lay gasping for breath, sweat streaming down his face. “I-It wasn’t her fault,” he stammered, pushing himself up. Patrasche wobbled nearby, clearly dazed.

“A little gratitude wouldn't hurt. Stupid beast was makin’ you howl like yer dyin’,” Garfiel snapped irritably.

Subaru opened his mouth to explain, but fresh pain crackled along his spine, a sharp warning.

If I tell them about the contract…it’ll get worse...

“T-thanks,” Subaru muttered instead, humiliation burning his cheeks.

“Whatever,” Garfiel huffed, eyeing Subaru suspiciously. “Where ya takin’ him anyway? The cottages are back the way ya came.”

“That’s none of your concern,” Ram interjected firmly. “I'm simply obeying my master’s instructions. You are not my keeper.”

“Only thing that way is the tomb,” Garfiel growled, suspicion deepening. “Ain’t no reason for him to head that way unless—”

“Unless what?” Subaru asked quietly, cautiously keeping his thoughts vague, guarded against further pain.

“You ran into that tomb after the half-elf earlier,” Garfiel growled, stepping closer. “It lit up when you entered. You took the trial, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Subaru admitted quickly, focusing solely on avoiding defiance.

Don't think. Don't challenge. Just endure .

Garfiel’s frown deepened into rage. “That half-elf is the one who should take the trials—not your useless ass, got it?” He grabbed Subaru roughly by the collar, snarling in his face. “Dunno how ya even qualified, but stay outta it!”

Subaru felt his control slip, driven by compulsion. Before he realized it, his fist shot forward, striking Garfiel’s jaw with a heavy impact, sending him sprawling to the ground. Everyone stood frozen, momentarily stunned by Subaru’s sudden violence.

Slowly rising, Garfiel wiped blood from his mouth, eyes filled with fury. “You’ve got some nerve…” he snarled, lunging toward Subaru in retaliation.

Subaru’s body seized control again, the commands echoing relentlessly in his mind.

“You will do as I command. You will not think of resetting. I forbid it.”

“Shamak,” Subaru whispered instinctively, shadows erupting around him as he moved to intercept Garfiel’s charge.

Stepping aside fluidly, Subaru waited for Garfiel’s defenses to falter before delivering a powerful kick into his side, launching the man violently into a nearby tree. Garfiel’s body slammed into the trunk with an echoing crash, splintering the wood and causing the massive tree to tilt precariously before collapsing heavily to the ground.

“Subaru, stop! This isn’t helping anyone!” Otto shouted desperately.

But Subaru couldn’t hear him—couldn't respond. He was driven entirely by compulsion. Garfiel was nothing but an obstacle. He couldn't allow himself to be stopped, couldn't let Garfiel get in the way—couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn't—

“Don’t get cocky, you little bastard!” Garfiel roared, charging forward with terrifying speed, but Subaru had already drawn his sword.

Lightning surged from Subaru’s blade, striking Garfiel squarely in the chest with brutal intensity. Unlike before, there was no restraint in Subaru’s attack. Garfiel cried out in pain as he was thrown backward violently, his body skidding across the ground. Deep within his heart, Subaru felt a sickening fear that he'd just killed the man, but his body was already moving, turning toward the tomb.

“What are you thinking, Subaru?!” Ram’s voice broke through briefly as she reached out, grabbing at his shoulder. Instinctively, he spun around, his sword stopping mere inches from her neck, trembling slightly from the force he exerted to restrain himself.

“I must complete the trials,” Subaru spoke hoarsely, voice strained and alien, "as Roswaal commanded.”

I have to fight this! I— aghhhh!

Pain exploded through his body, blinding him until he took another forced step forward. Ram stood frozen, a look of confusion and conflict etched across her face. Subaru felt mechanical, utterly helpless against the compulsion that drove him relentlessly onward. Each thought of resistance was now an unbearable surge of agony.

“I’m not finished with you yet!”

Subaru barely had time to turn before Garfiel's massive fist collided violently with his face, sending him sprawling backward in agony. Blood filled his mouth, and his vision blurred, but he struggled quickly back to his feet. Garfiel’s arms were no longer human—they had transformed, thick and powerful as those of a monstrous tiger.

“You’re dead meat now!” Garfiel snarled, blood dripping from his chest where Subaru’s lightning had struck.

“Miya,” Subaru whispered through bloody teeth, three violet crystals appearing midair and hurling themselves toward Garfiel at blinding speed.

Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Make the pain stop—just KILL HIM!

Subaru moved without hesitation, swinging his sword with precise, lethal intent, unleashing razor-sharp gusts of wind to slice through Garfiel’s defenses. Whether he willed it or not, his body fought with deadly intent, every motion dictated by the relentless compulsion, his thoughts overpowered by Roswaal’s command.

Garfiel, recognizing the deadly escalation, shifted fully into a colossal tiger hybrid, his towering form radiating raw power. Yet despite his massive bulk, he was agile and swift, evading and countering Subaru's lethal barrage.

Every time Garfiel attempted to close the distance, Subaru unleashed searing plumes of fire, forcing him back. Lightning strikes continued to batter Garfiel’s monstrous form, each impact sending him reeling.

Kill! Kill! KILL HIM!

Subaru's mind shrieked, consumed by an unending torrent of pain and compulsion, the last fragments of his will barely holding against the overpowering, sinister force driving him relentlessly forward.

“Fura!”

Subaru gasped sharply as searing pain erupted down his back. He stumbled forward, glancing behind him in shock to see Ram standing there, a complicated mix of sorrow and resolve etched into her features. Warm blood quickly soaked through his shirt, dripping steadily onto the ground.

Before Subaru could even form a coherent thought, his body acted instinctively. He spun and released a fierce bolt of lightning from his sword, striking Ram squarely in the chest. There had been no hesitation, no chance to hold back; the blast hit her at full force. Ram’s body was hurled backward, smoke rising from the scorched wound as she collapsed soundlessly to the earth.

“RAM!!!” Garfiel’s anguished roar echoed as he reverted from his massive tiger form, sprinting desperately toward her.

What have I just done?

But Subaru’s body moved again, compelled by the relentless force driving him. He lunged forward, intercepting Garfiel before the man could reach Ram.

“Subaru, STOP!”

Felt had appeared suddenly, slipping from Patrasche’s back. Otto must have brought her, having ridden out to find help.

No… Please, Dragon no!

Kill, kill, kill. Take the trial, complete the contract. Kill anyone who stops you.

Subaru drove his blade deeply into Garfiel’s back. It took every ounce of strength he had left to miss the man’s heart, but Garfiel still cried out in agony, stumbling forward as blood erupted from the wound.

Staggering away, Subaru saw Felt’s horrified expression. Without another thought, he turned, running toward the Tomb. Garfiel was neutralized; he could leave Felt unharmed—

“H-hey… jackass!”

Subaru barely turned before Garfiel’s claws slashed brutally through his side. Pain overwhelmed him as he was sent crashing violently into a nearby tree. Dizzy, he looked down in disbelief, spotting an arm severed on the ground. It took a moment to comprehend—it was his own. Blood gushed from the ragged stump at his shoulder, staining the earth crimson.

“Subaru!” Felt screamed, racing toward him before Otto grabbed her, pulling her back.

You can’t reset, you can’t die. Live, live, live—

Adrenaline surged through him as Subaru scrambled to his feet, desperately clutching at his shirt with his remaining hand to stem the bleeding. He pushed toward the Tomb, his vision blurring as Garfiel chased after him, rage consuming the man’s features.

“Don’t you run from me, you bastard!” Garfiel snarled, claws extended to deliver a killing blow.

“Dona!” Otto shouted, summoning a mound of earth that swiftly wrapped around Subaru’s ankle, another rising quickly to intercept Garfiel.

I need more! Something to stop them, something to survive this—!

Desperation clawed through Subaru as he reached deep within himself. He felt something coiled tightly in his gut, like a knot of dark energy. Without thinking, Subaru unleashed a primal scream. From his back erupted three monstrous black hands, slick with oil and malevolent power.

“What’s… going on here?”

A man materialized beside Subaru, confusion and horror written plainly on his gentle features. Long green hair cascaded down his back, and familiar brown eyes scanned the chaos with distress.

“Take it from me… please…” Subaru begged through the agony.

The oily hands shot forward, but Garfiel was faster. Smashing through Otto’s earth barrier, his clawed hand plunged ruthlessly into Subaru’s chest.

Subaru choked, struggling weakly for air. He felt his life slipping away with terrifying certainty until, finally, darkness took him.

---

Blinking, Subaru stared blankly at the ceiling of the carriage. Before he could fully comprehend where he was, the pain erupted through him—savage and relentless. It felt as if molten fire had been poured into every inch of him, searing through his skin, organs, and bones, burning him alive from within.

You disobeyed… You reset.

The agony was unbearable, and Subaru silently begged for death, only to remember in horror that death was precisely what had brought him this torment. It was punishment—a cruel lesson he was forced to learn.

He desperately wanted to scream, yet his voice was trapped deep within, paralyzed by pain. Through the haze of suffering, he glimpsed shadowy tendrils thrashing wildly in his blurred vision. A figure hovered over him, speaking urgently, but the voice was distorted, distant, and unrecognizable.

“Yes… Yes… please… make it stop…” he pleaded silently, surrendering to any promise that would free him from this agony.

Suddenly, darkness swallowed everything, and mercifully, the pain vanished into oblivion.

Chapter 27: ARC 3 - Chapter 7: The Dead Walk

ARC III

---

Chapter VII:

The Dead Walk

---

Petelgeuse had no clear memories of where he'd been. The last coherent image he could recall was visiting Emilia and Miss Fortuna in the Great Elior Forest, but even that felt impossibly distant now, as if decades had slipped by without his notice.

Then, abruptly, he found himself standing in a carriage, looking down at a young man writhing in agony. The boy's tortured mind screamed a single, desperate plea:

Take it from me! Take it from me!

Instinctively, Petelgeuse understood what the boy meant. Without hesitation, he reached down, grasped the young man's consciousness, and pulled him free. In the next instant, Petelgeuse slipped effortlessly into the now-vacant body.

Suddenly, Petelgeuse found himself gasping for breath, staring up at the carriage's wooden ceiling. Everything felt profoundly strange—alien. He examined unfamiliar hands, felt the sensation of foreign limbs, tasted air that was not quite right. Gathering his wits, Petelgeuse sat up shakily, trying to orient himself.

In the back of his mind, a nagging sensation pressed at him, an insistent compulsion urging him toward something specific. It was a mild annoyance—an easy distraction to brush aside, but persistent nonetheless.

Carefully, he rose and stepped toward the carriage door, pushing it open to reveal a darkened landscape outside. Petelgeuse took a cautious step out, absorbing the sight before him. The foliage was different, more overgrown than he remembered, yet unmistakably familiar. This was the place where he'd met Echidna so long ago—but now the buildings appeared worn, weathered by untold years.

“Echidna is dead…” Petelgeuse murmured, the painful memory still fresh. Flugel had confirmed the Witches were gone, their presence wiped from the world. It was a bitter, lingering sorrow.

His thoughts drifted momentarily to Beatrice and Roswaal. Beatrice could have easily endured all this time, but the young man Roswaal—surely he had passed by now? Given the state of decay, any survival seemed unlikely. Petelgeuse shook his head, perplexed.

“Whose body am I even in?” he wondered aloud, seeking his reflection in the ornate carriage window. When he caught sight of his borrowed face, his heart nearly stopped.

“Flugel?!” Petelgeuse stumbled backward in disbelief. He touched the reflection with trembling fingers, noticing subtle distinctions—the eyes were different, more earnest, the jawline slightly sharper. Still, the resemblance to the great sage was undeniable.

“Perhaps a descendant?” Petelgeuse whispered, curiosity mounting. “Yes, he must be...”

“Subaru,” a sharp voice called out suddenly, breaking his reverie.

Turning swiftly, he saw a pink-haired oni standing a short distance away, arms crossed, expression stern. She wore a maid’s uniform, radiating quiet irritation.

“Roswaal sent me to fetch you,” she stated curtly.

Petelgeuse blinked in astonishment. “Roswaal?”

The young man is still alive? How can that possibly be?

“Yes, he summoned you. You look tired, but that can wait,” the oni maid continued, her voice firm and unwavering.

Petelgeuse’s mind raced furiously, piecing together clues. This body belonged to Subaru—a descendant of Flugel, perhaps? Then there was the existence of Roswaal, or possibly another descendant of Echidna’s servant. Whatever was going on, it was certainly odd.

Cautiously, Petelgeuse stepped toward the maid, determined to uncover the truth of this new world he had unexpectedly awoken into.

“Lead on,” he said cautiously, his tongue feeling odd as the words left his mouth.

Ram arched an eyebrow but turned without another word, guiding him away. Petelgeuse followed closely, his gaze sweeping around as he attempted to gather his bearings. He still struggled to understand how he had ended up inhabiting the body of Flugel's descendant. There was no memory of making any contract, nor did he recall experiencing death.

He remembered clearly visiting Fortuna and young Emilia… but everything after that moment was an impenetrable black void. The sense that considerable time had passed was undeniable. He wondered where they were now; elves and their kin lived long lives, yet he had no way of knowing exactly how much time had slipped away since their last meeting.

Following the maid into a modest cabin, Petelgeuse was guided into a room. His eyes widened at the sight of the bandaged man sitting there, a calm smile on his face. With long blue hair and refined features, the man was unmistakably similar to the Roswaal he had once known—except this man's eyes were mismatched, one blue and the other yellow. The Roswaal of his memory had possessed two blue eyes; this, he assumed, must be a descendant bearing the same name.

“Ahhhh, Subaru, you’ve returned,” Roswaal greeted smoothly. “Ram dear, find your sister and have her prepare supper. Afterwards, we'll have our evening session.”

Petelgeuse watched quietly as Ram bowed and exited to fetch her sister. He wasn't certain what role the young man whose body he inhabited played in all of this, but caution seemed prudent. His best course of action would be to conceal the fact that he had assumed control for as long as possible.

“So, you undertook the trial… Tell me, what was the result?” Roswaal questioned.

Trial? What trial? Clearly, I lack critical information. Given the devotion Roswaal's ancestor had toward Echidna, this likely involves the Witch of Greed, even though she has passed away.

“It went fine,” Petelgeuse replied carefully, hoping to avoid revealing his ignorance.

Roswaal’s brow furrowed slightly. Petelgeuse sensed that he'd already made a misstep. The man before him was undoubtedly intelligent and potentially dangerous. Additionally, the constant buzzing in the back of his head grew increasingly bothersome, like a persistent headache or a nagging feeling that something important was being forgotten.

“I wonder… what exactly do you remember? Who gave you your trial?” Roswaal pressed gently.

How should I answer this? Petelgeuse pondered quickly. Should I take a risk?

“Echidna,” he finally replied with calm certainty. “I can't recall the specifics, but I'm certain she was the one who created the trial.”

It was the best guess he could muster. If this place was indeed the same as he remembered, it was the only answer that made sense. If he was mistaken, there was little he could do now.

Roswaal sat silently, studying him with an unreadable expression before a slow smile crept across his face. “So, you know Echidna was behind it, yet you recall nothing else? Interesting… Subaru,” Roswaal’s eyes gleamed dangerously, “I command you to stab your leg, now.”

Petelgeuse was stunned. Stab my leg? Why would I ever—

“Huma.”

That brief moment of hesitation was costly. Before Petelgeuse could even consider moving, he felt ice suddenly envelop his leg. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to channel mana but found its flow unfamiliar and resistant to his control. That slight distraction was all Roswaal needed.

The mage sprang from his bed, delivering a punishing fist directly into Petelgeuse's gut. Pain exploded through his body as he flew backward, slamming into the wall. The ice shattered upon impact, leaving him gasping desperately for air.

“You're not Subaru,” Roswaal sneered, advancing slowly and deliberately, his gaze cold. He knelt beside Petelgeuse, roughly grabbing him by the hair to force eye contact. “I wonder, then, who exactly you are? And how did Subaru achieve this little act of subterfuge?”

“I don’t—”

Roswaal’s hands ignited with heat, and Petelgeuse grunted in pain as the mage glared down at him.

“I will burn this body to ash unless you speak,” Roswaal said with unsettling calmness, clearly not bluffing.

Petelgeuse knew he couldn’t risk harming this young man's body further. Allowing the descendant of his old friend to perish was unthinkable. Better to face Roswaal now than to risk further harm.

“Petelgeuse,” he said quickly, yielding. “Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti.”

Roswaal’s expression twisted into disgust, but his hands cooled, and he stepped back, eyes narrowed. “Subaru killed you—or so I believed. Tell me, how long have you resided within him, Sin Archbishop?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Petelgeuse said firmly, attempting to rise, but Roswaal wagged a finger sternly.

“Stay exactly where you are until I permit otherwise,” Roswaal commanded sharply, pinning Petelgeuse against the splintered wall. “How much do you remember? What is the last clear memory you have, dear Petelgeuse?”

Petelgeuse hesitated, uncertain how much to reveal, though deception now would likely result in death. “I remember visiting dear friends in the Great Elior Forest. Beyond that, my memories are blank.”

Roswaal’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You recall nothing of your tenure as the Sin Archbishop of Sloth?”

Petelgeuse’s heart sank. “Sin Archbishop of Sloth?” he echoed in disbelief. He had been entrusted to guard that Witch Factor by Flugel himself, but to wield it meant—

No… surely I didn’t…?

“You’re implying that I absorbed the Witch Factor of Sloth?” Petelgeuse asked, a cold sweat forming on his brow.

“Indeed,” Roswaal confirmed grimly. “And now you occupy the body of the very man who defeated you—your former body, anyway. This development is most troubling.”

Roswaal turned away dismissively, returning to his bed and settling in comfortably. Shortly thereafter, a knock sounded at the door. Roswaal gestured silently, allowing Petelgeuse to rise cautiously, never taking his eyes from the mage.

“Enter,” Roswaal called.

Ram stepped into the room, followed closely by a near-identical girl, distinguishable only by her blue hair and larger bust.

“Master, there appears to be significant damage to the wall,” Ram observed coolly, eyeing Petelgeuse suspiciously.

“I was merely teaching my young apprentice a valuable lesson,” Roswaal said melodically, unfazed. “Things got a biiiiit carried away.”

“Subaru, are you alright?!” the blue-haired girl asked anxiously, moving toward him with clear concern.

“I’m fine,” Petelgeuse lied carefully, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Roswaal.

A million questions raced through Petelgeuse's mind, each more troubling than the last. If he truly had absorbed the Witch Factor of Sloth, that would explain the vast emptiness of his memories. Now, inhabiting the body of the young man Roswaal claimed had killed him—or at least his physical form—Petelgeuse struggled to make sense of it all.

Yet that claim couldn't be entirely accurate; his soul was clearly intact. Had this Subaru somehow taken the Witch Factor from him? He vividly remembered seeing those black, oily hands thrashing around just before assuming control of this body.

“Rem, if you'd be so kind as to start preparing supper—perhaps something soothing like a nice chicken stew?” Roswaal smiled serenely. “Ram, please see to your tea preparations. We'll begin our session shortly.”

Both maids bowed respectfully. Rem gave Petelgeuse a worried glance before departing with her sister, leaving him alone once more with the unpredictable mage. Roswaal's pleasant facade fell away instantly.

“So, Petelgeuse, I assume you now remember Emilia?” Roswaal's voice carried a dangerous edge.

“Emilia?” Petelgeuse echoed, concern washing over him. “You know Emilia!?”

“I am her benefactor,” Roswaal answered, a cunning smirk playing on his lips. “There's much you're unaware of. Emilia is now a candidate for the Throne of Lugunica, though I doubt she'd recognize you.”

“The Throne? That seems impossible,” Petelgeuse murmured, bewildered. “She’s here, now? I need to see her!”

“Quite impossible,” Roswaal said coldly. “Things are complicated enough already. I'd much prefer you return Subaru's consciousness to me—I require my apprentice, not the lingering spirit of a madman.”

Petelgeuse narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “That young man was in unbearable pain. And you ordered me—no, him —to stab his own leg. I'm starting to think you're the reason behind his suffering.”

“Perceptive as always, Geuse,” Roswaal smirked knowingly.

Petelgeuse stiffened. “As always? You speak as though you know me personally. You even used my nickname—only a handful of people ever called me that.”

Roswaal's eyes glittered with amusement. “We had dealings, though not directly. Your cult of lunatics was simply another tool I manipulated for my ends.”

“You're not the Roswaal I once knew,” Petelgeuse observed sharply. “He would have died centuries ago. I knew his lineage persisted, but this…”

“Surprised?” Roswaal chuckled darkly. “While my physical body may wither, my soul endures. I have much to achieve, and currently, Geuse, you're becoming a significant hindrance.”

“A hindrance to what, exactly?” Petelgeuse asked cautiously, his hand instinctively drifting toward the unfamiliar sword at his side.

“You must suspect by now,” Roswaal leaned forward eagerly.

“Echidna?” Petelgeuse guessed carefully.

“Precisely,” Roswaal affirmed. “Subaru is crucial for my plans, and you—unfortunately—are not Subaru. So, I'll ask again, kindly return him to me.”

Petelgeuse felt a cold unease settle deep within him—not exactly fear, but something terribly close. The years, along with whatever dark magic Roswaal had used to survive for centuries, had changed the once innocent boy into a hardened, dangerous man.

“What if I refuse to return him—or if I am unable?” Petelgeuse challenged cautiously.

“Then I'll force your hand,” Roswaal answered smoothly, eyes gleaming dangerously. “I happen to know there's someone here you value above all others—someone you'd do absolutely anything for.”

Petelgeuse’s rage flared immediately. “Don’t you dare threaten her!”

“If it means achieving my goal, I'd burn her alive without hesitation,” Roswaal replied, his voice dripping with cold malice. “There's nothing—nothing—I wouldn't do to reunite with the woman I love.”

Petelgeuse staggered back slightly. Clearly, Roswaal had descended into madness; who knew how far he'd already gone to fulfill his twisted desires? Yet Petelgeuse could see no reason to doubt Roswaal’s threat.

“I’ll kill you myself if you even think—”

“You're outmatched, Geuse,” Roswaal interrupted calmly. “Subduing you is simple enough, and once you’re restrained, I’ll summon Emilia and then… well, the possibilities are endless.”

Petelgeuse felt his blood turn to ice. He grasped desperately within himself, searching for something—anything—that could help him. He felt a strange tugging deep inside, an unfamiliar yet oddly comforting sensation. Reaching for it instinctively—

“This is freaky.”

Petelgeuse turned sharply to his left, where the shade of a young man stood beside him. The figure seemed strangely familiar yet unknown.

“Flugel?” Petelgeuse thought in confusion.

“Who the hell is Flugel?” The shade asked, looking equally puzzled before shaking his head. “No, I’m Natsuki Subaru—but that can wait. I've got a million questions, but we're running out of time.”

“You seem distracted,” Roswaal remarked, noticing Petelgeuse's gaze drifting. A slow realization crossed Roswaal's features. “Ahhh, now I see.”

“Whatever you do, don’t give him what he wants,” Subaru urged urgently. “Apparently, I don’t feel the pain of the contract here, though the headache is brutal.”

“Contract?” Petelgeuse asked silently.

“Long story short, Roswaal can control my actions, but I refuse to be his slave.” Subaru glanced at his hands, unseen by Roswaal, observing the phantom black tendrils. “I think I understand now. You appeared when I summoned these, so perhaps the opposite applies, too.”

“He’ll hurt Emilia—we have to stop him!” Petelgeuse panicked.

“He’s bluffing,” Subaru reassured. “Emilia is protected by Puck. Even if by some miracle he overcame Puck, her death would cause Puck to annihilate everything—including Roswaal. And if Roswaal kills us, it solves nothing for him.”

“That doesn't ease my worry!”

“Subaru,” Roswaal interrupted sharply, “you can hear me, can’t you?”

“Subaru?” Petelgeuse feigned confusion. “There’s only us here…”

Roswaal chuckled darkly. “He's guiding you, isn’t he? Perhaps it's time to try another approach. Emilia is indeed well-protected, as he likely informed you. But instead of Emilia—if you don't return Subaru—I’ll make sure young Felt meets the most agonizing end imaginable.”

Petelgeuse felt a surge of raw anger within him—though it wasn't his own. Subaru lunged forward, fists clenched, but he was merely a powerless specter.

“What is your endgame? Why force this boy into slavery?” Petelgeuse asked.

“It’s simple,” Roswaal said firmly. “To ensure my master’s resurrection. Imagine, Geuse—the revival of one of the great Witches! You, a founding member of the Witch Cult, held Echidna in high esteem. You have far more reason to help me succeed than oppose me. Why side with a man you've no connection to?”

“You threatened Emilia,” Petelgeuse growled defiantly.

“I've made it clear that I'll do anything to reunite with my master—even bluffing,” Roswaal said calmly. “Admittedly, your interference was unexpected. But I still hold every advantage. You are a minor annoyance, Geuse, nothing more. Align with me, and Echidna will surely reward you. Imagine—your own body restored, the chance to protect and guide Emilia. All I require is for you to give Subaru back to me.”

Petelgeuse couldn’t deny that Roswaal’s offer had an undeniable appeal. His admiration and respect for Echidna were still deep within him. Yet, seeing Roswaal, the once-curious youth he remembered, now twisted into madness in pursuit of his dead master was deeply unsettling.

“I won’t give you Subaru,” Petelgeuse finally declared firmly, “Not just because you've clearly lost your mind, but because I believe Subaru has a deep connection to my former master. I cannot betray such a bond. To see him merely as a tool to be manipulated and forced is a grave sin.”

Roswaal sighed, shaking his head regretfully. “Very well, then I’ll be forced to follow through with my threat. Such a shame, truly. Felt is a spirited young woman; subjecting her to such a cruel fate will be deeply unpleasant.”

Subaru appeared visibly tense, then chuckled bitterly. “He's bluffing again. Reinhard would end him if he ever laid a finger on Felt. Besides, I can always reset.”

“Reinhard? Reset?” Petelgeuse asked, confused.

“Reinhard is the Sword Saint, the strongest warrior alive. Roswaal wouldn't survive his wrath. As for resetting… best not to talk about it too much. I don't know how it affects a spirit inside my mind, and I'd rather not tempt fate,” Subaru said carefully.

Petelgeuse quickly relayed Subaru’s words to Roswaal. “This Reinhard will exact revenge. According to Subaru, you have no real leverage, unless you plan on destroying your only advantage or killing your valuable tool.”

Roswaal frowned and then calmly pulled out a book—the Book of Wisdom—flipping through its pages thoughtfully. “It's fascinating how your ability continues to alter events, Subaru. You must have somehow circumvented my order and reset after the trial, though I doubt it was intentional. I suspect that merchant, Otto, played some role.”

“What does Otto have to do with it?” Subaru muttered, frustrated.

Roswaal closed the book sharply, eyes glittering dangerously. “Here’s my proposal, Subaru: accept it, or I will kill you both. Geuse is powerless to stop me. I gamble that it is only you who resets, not the spirit within you. A gamble I'm quite confident I'll win. We'll repeat this endlessly until I either achieve my goals or you take my deal.”

Subaru tensed, listening carefully.

“I'll amend our contract,” Roswaal announced.

Subaru's expression hardened. “What’s he planning?”

“I will entirely remove my control over you,” Roswaal explained smoothly. “As it stands, Geuse’s unexpected presence complicates things. He's not bound by my previous arrangement, and if I let him leave here alive, he'll rally your friends against me. I am not yet prepared to face such odds.”

Petelgeuse raised an eyebrow cautiously. “I’d like to see the original contract first.”

With a swift gesture, Roswaal conjured a parchment and passed it to Petelgeuse, who grasped it with his unseen hand. Roswaal’s eyes flickered briefly with surprise, quickly shifting to understanding.

“Why would you ever sign something like this, Subaru?” Petelgeuse muttered in disbelief.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Subaru grimaced. “I was desperate to help my family out of poverty. I had no idea he was a manipulative lunatic.”

“Fine, these terms disappear. But what’s your new catch?” Petelgeuse pressed.

“It’s straightforward,” Roswaal said with a confident smile. “Subaru must complete the two remaining trials within seven days. He must earnestly consider any offer presented by Echidna. Lastly, he must not disclose anything that has occurred between us or will occur moving forward until the trials are completed. In addition, should you Petelgeuse break any of the terms, it will be the same as if Subaru had broken them.”

“How do I know you won’t break your word the moment I relinquish control?” Petelgeuse challenged, wary.

“I’ll place a magical seal upon myself,” Roswaal promised solemnly. “If I attempt to break this new agreement, my very soul will be obliterated.”

“What do you think?” Subaru asked cautiously.

“He’s plotting something,” Petelgeuse replied warily. “If his objective truly is for you to sign a contract with Echidna, then this new deal only requires that you consider it, not accept it.”

“There's no chance I’d willingly make a deal with Echidna—not if she's the one Roswaal calls master,” Subaru said firmly. “She might not seem openly malicious, but if Roswaal's serving her, there must be something else at play here.”

“You suspect another scheme?” Petelgeuse frowned thoughtfully.

“I’m sure of it. He hasn’t left anything to chance so far. For all I know, the moment I refuse, he might try to use Felt as leverage. The second I resist, he’ll harm her, or worse,” Subaru muttered darkly, feeling trapped. After a tense moment, he sighed deeply. “Fine. I don’t see any other way out. Tell him I accept his terms.”

Petelgeuse hesitated briefly before nodding solemnly. Turning to Roswaal, he announced, “He accepts your offer.”

Roswaal’s face broke into a triumphant, unsettling smirk. “Excellent. I'm confident that once he truly hears my master out, he will understand completely.”

“Are you certain about this, young man?” Petelgeuse asked Subaru, his tone concerned.

“Certain?” Subaru laughed bitterly. “No, I’m not certain at all—but it’s not like I have much choice here.”

With a resigned nod, Petelgeuse closed his eyes, feeling Subaru's consciousness begin to pull him out of the body. The sensation was disorienting—an uncomfortable tearing at the soul that he hoped he'd never experience again.

Moments later, he found himself looking at Subaru once more—but this time, from the outside

---

Subaru felt strange returning to his own body. For a brief, anxious moment, he feared the contract's pain would flood back immediately, but thankfully, the fear was unfounded. If there had been any remaining danger, Petelgeuse would surely have warned him.

Of all people, Subaru had never imagined the Sin Archbishop of Sloth would come to his rescue. The Petelgeuse he'd encountered was entirely unlike the deranged madman he'd killed—clear-minded, composed, and thoughtful. Subaru had no time to question this unexpected alliance. For now, acceptance was the only option; there would be time later for understanding.

Maintaining the unseen hands around him strained Subaru more than he'd anticipated, but it was necessary. Having Petelgeuse ready to retake control was vital insurance against Roswaal.

“I want it in writing, just like before,” Subaru said firmly, crossing his arms.

“Welcome back,” Roswaal said with a sinister smirk. “You've managed to free yourself from our original agreement. Impressive.”

“Save your breath,” Subaru snapped. “You're not fooling anyone. You wouldn't offer this new deal without a backup plan.”

“Perhaps,” Roswaal said casually, snapping his fingers. The contract's previous conditions dissolved, replaced by new, bold terms:

5. All previous conditions binding the Signee are nullified. Instead, the Signee agrees to complete all remaining trials in Echidna’s tomb within seven days. The Signee must consider any proposal offered by Echidna and shall speak of nothing related to Roswaal's past, present, or future actions until all trials conclude. Failure to meet these conditions will restore the Signee’s previous servitude to Roswaal.

“So,” Subaru summarized coldly, “finish the trials within a week or become your slave again? What if Emilia completes them first?”

Roswaal chuckled darkly. “Oh, Emilia will never finish those trials, nor will anyone else. But to ease your fears, I'll honor the contract even if someone else completes them first. Though, I’d stake my life you're the only one who can do it. Does that satisfy you?”

Subaru glanced toward Petelgeuse, who gave a wary nod.

“One last thing,” Subaru said cautiously. “Why allow me the chance to reset? You're not one to gamble.”

Roswaal’s smirk widened. “Because no matter how many times you reset, the result will remain unchanged. You finish the trials—if you accept Echidna’s offer, I win. If you refuse, you win. Simple.”

Taking the quill from a nearby table, Subaru hesitated one final moment before firmly signing his name. Immediately, he felt mana stir inside him, releasing a deep tension as Petelgeuse and the unseen hands faded away.

“It’s done,” Roswaal sighed heavily, appearing almost disappointed. “Not ideal, but victory remains within my grasp.”

“Maybe,” Subaru replied, stepping forward and swinging a furious punch at Roswaal’s face.

With alarming speed, Roswaal effortlessly caught Subaru’s fist, squeezing it painfully. “Just because I can't command you doesn't mean you're suddenly my equal. I could break you right here if I chose.”

Subaru glared fiercely. “When this is over, I promise—I’ll slit your throat.”

“How delightfully bloodthirsty,” Roswaal laughed softly, unperturbed.

A gentle knock interrupted them. Rem stepped into the room, carrying a tray laden with steaming chicken stew. “Dinner is ready. Ram is finishing the tea now,” she announced cheerfully, then turned to Subaru, smiling warmly. “I made enough for you as well, Subaru!”

Subaru shot one final, disgusted glare at Roswaal, bound by the contract’s silence. Right now, all he wanted was rest and food. “Thanks, Rem. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like mine in the carriage.”

“No trouble at all!” Rem replied brightly.

Subaru followed her out, steeling himself internally. No matter Roswaal's scheme, he'd find a way to overcome it.

Chapter 28: ARC 3 - Chapter 8: Talks Over Tea

ARC III

---

Chapter VIII:

Talks Over Tea

---

Subaru slept like the dead. When he finally stirred awake, his entire body felt stiff and sore.

Ever since the Royal Selection, he'd been running nonstop. Moments of true rest had been scarce, and even the brief respite of the dreamlike trial felt more like a fleeting illusion than a genuine break. His body was paying the price.

Stumbling out of the carriage, Subaru noted with irritation that it was already approaching mid-morning. He cursed himself for sleeping in so late, but his body had desperately needed the rest.

“Petelgeuse?” Subaru cautiously probed in his mind, but silence was his only answer.

Scratching his chin thoughtfully, Subaru reached inward, searching for the strange sensation he'd felt earlier. For a tense moment, nothing happened, but then oily black hands unfurled from his back, twisting and coiling like spectral tendrils. A moment later, the translucent figure of Petelgeuse flickered into existence beside him.

“Strange. You only appear when these hands are out,” Subaru muttered, slightly annoyed. “That's not very convenient.”

Petelgeuse regarded his own ethereal form thoughtfully. “Interesting. It was the same when I occupied your body. I can sense time has passed, yet it feels more like a hazy dream. If you can maintain these… arms, I have questions.”

Subaru flexed his fingers experimentally. “I can manage it for a while. What do you want to know?”

“I'm no longer in the time I remember,” Petelgeuse said, frowning deeply. “The last clear memory I have is visiting Emilia and Miss Fortuna when Emilia was a small child. Beyond that moment is nothing but darkness.”

Subaru hesitated. Emilia's past was essentially a mystery to him. She had little recollection of her life before waking with Puck, and Subaru only knew fragments about the Archbishop's past.

“Part of the truth will hurt you. Are you sure you want to hear this?” Subaru asked cautiously.

Petelgeuse nodded solemnly. “I'm sure. As a sinner, I must always confront the reality of my sins.”

Taking a deep breath, Subaru recounted what little he knew: how Petelgeuse had once held the Witch Factor of Sloth, how he became twisted and monstrous, the countless deaths he'd caused, the massacre he had nearly carried out in Arlam, and how Subaru himself had been forced to cut him down repeatedly.

Petelgeuse listened in shocked silence, pain evident in his ghostly features. Though shaken, he did not ask Subaru to stop, absorbing each painful revelation.

“Flugel warned me about this…” Petelgeuse whispered, visibly anguished. “Taking in an incompatible Witch Factor can drive one mad. It happened to Satella. But what madness drove me to accept Sloth into myself?”

Subaru regarded him seriously. “Don't dwell on it. The person who committed those sins isn't standing here now. You look and feel completely different.”

Petelgeuse managed a faint, grateful smile. “Thank you. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd like to speak with Emilia eventually. There is much I need to understand.”

Subaru nodded, his curiosity now outweighing caution. “I need to ask—without probing too deeply—do you remember me dying in a fight against a young man with tiger-like hands?”

Petelgeuse shook his head slowly, confused. “No, nothing like that. And surely if you died, we wouldn't be having this conversation?”

Subaru sighed. It appeared Return by Death didn't extend its influence to Petelgeuse's awareness. The next logical step was—

“I can—” he started, but the familiar vice-like grip of Satella clenched his heart sharply. Subaru flinched, frustrated. “Damn it… figures.”

“I'm not following,” Petelgeuse said, puzzled.

“It's something I literally can't talk about, or bad things happen,” Subaru admitted grimly. “You'll have to figure it out yourself.”

Petelgeuse eyed him thoughtfully. “This 'resetting' Roswaal spoke of… you mean it quite literally, don't you?”

Subaru stayed silent, unwilling to tempt fate further.

Petelgeuse nodded knowingly. “I sense Satella strongly upon you. If I had to guess, your power is related to her. Given your connection to Flugel, that makes sense. He was… everything to Satella.”

“Flugel? The Sage who planted the Flugel Tree?” Subaru asked, intrigued, though strain from maintaining the spectral hands was growing.

“Yes, the very same. Centuries ago, Flugel, the Divine Dragon Volcanica, and Reid Astrea sealed away the Witch of Envy. Flugel entrusted the Witch Factor of Sloth to me for safekeeping. Why I succumbed to its madness… I cannot recall.” Petelgeuse shook his head, troubled. “But tell me—what exactly is your connection to Flugel?”

Subaru stared blankly, bewildered. “I don't have any connection to Flugel. I'm from Japan, which is not of this world. I arrived here when I was nine.”

“Flugel once told me he came from another world—a place called Japan. Curious…” Petelgeuse studied Subaru carefully, as if trying to unravel a deep mystery hidden within him.

“Maybe he’s a distant relative? ” Subaru suggested with a shrug. “He lived over four hundred years ago; it’s possible. Besides, the Witch of Envy’s miasma clings heavily to me, and there are other things I can't freely discuss.”

“That aligns. Flugel and Satella were very close. It was never openly stated, but I always believed they loved each other. If you truly are his descendant, her interest in you would be unsurprising,” Petelgeuse sighed thoughtfully.

Subaru suddenly doubled over as his stomach twisted painfully, the strain from maintaining the unseen hands growing intense. He felt he might eventually adapt to it, but it would require considerable practice. For now, he couldn't hold them much longer.

“I can’t keep this up much more,” Subaru managed, fighting to maintain composure.

“I understand,” Petelgeuse quickly reassured him. “I would like to speak with Emilia soon, but don’t push yourself too hard on my account.”

With a relieved nod, Subaru released his hold, and the shadowy hands vanished, taking Petelgeuse with them. He gasped as the strain disappeared instantly. The problem wasn't his mana reserves—it felt as if the Witch Factor itself was resisting him, something he'd need to master eventually.

I hope this doesn't mean I'm the new Sin Archbishop of Sloth. He shuddered at the thought. I'd rather die a thousand times before accepting that title.

***

It was a rather pleasant morning—if Subaru ignored the ticking clock hanging over his head.

He ate breakfast with Otto: toast, eggs, and sausage. Subaru had to contend with Patrasche pecking at him, despite having already fed her and brushed her scales. With a sigh, he handed over the remainder of his sausage, which she gulped down happily. It was well earned, he supposed. She had helped free him from his contract, even if it had cost him his life.

"So, what’s our plan?" Otto asked, setting aside his empty plate.

"I’m working on that," Subaru sighed. He couldn’t explain that his contract was void—it would violate his new agreement. A minor restriction, perhaps, but one that wouldn’t matter once he completed the three trials.

"Well, if you can take the trials, then why not? Does it matter if it’s you or Emilia, as long as someone finishes them?" Otto pointed out.

"It might. Emilia might come off looking weak if I, a member of Felt’s camp, save her and the villagers again," Subaru muttered. "She’s technically a rival for the throne."

Otto nodded. "I get that you’re friendly with her, but if she can’t finish the trials, someone has to."

Subaru pushed his remaining eggs into Patrasche’s feed bucket and stood up. "I need to clear my head. Can you let Felt know I’d like to have lunch with her later?"

"You’re not sneaking off to take the trial, right?" Otto asked, half-suspicious.

"No. At least, that’s not my current intention," Subaru shrugged.

"Well, you should know Garfiel’s been patrolling around the tomb. He’s looking intense. Probably best to steer clear for now."

"I thought he wanted the barrier removed… so why guard the tomb?" Subaru muttered. It was a question for later. "I’ll keep that in mind. I’d rather avoid another fight with him."

Wishing Otto a good morning, Subaru set off for a walk. He needed time to think. Blitzing through the trials might work, but that assumed Roswaal was playing by the rules. Subaru knew better—Roswaal didn’t gamble; he rigged the game.

How could he counter someone like Roswaal? Killing him was an option, but doing so would provoke Ram. Rem would have to pick a side. Things could spiral into civil war within the Sanctuary. No, he couldn’t act until he’d shown everyone just how evil Roswaal truly was—and he couldn’t tell them until after the trials.

"You are the young man who has gotten Young Gar in such a state."

Startled, Subaru looked up. He’d wandered deep into the woods. Standing in the path was a short girl with long pink hair, dressed in a black robe and carrying a staff adorned with colored gems.

He recognized her from before, when he’d been transported from Patrasche’s back. She’d been dressed in white then. Somehow, she didn’t feel like the same person.

"Have we met?" Subaru asked.

"This is the first I’ve laid eyes upon you," the girl replied flatly. "Though you may have seen someone who shares my features. I cannot say for certain."

"Who are you?"

"I am Ryuzu Bilma," she said, studying him. "You are an Apostle of Greed. You took the trial."

"Apostle? I don’t understand."

"Young Gar will be quite frustrated with this development," she sighed. "You are Young Su, yes?"

He hesitated. This girl was cryptic, but she might be useful. "I am Natsuki Subaru."

"Interesting that we should meet like this." Ryuzu tilted her head, still studying him. "I wonder what your plans are. How much do you know, Young Su?"

"Not much," Subaru admitted. "Would you mind enlightening me? You called me an Apostle of Greed—what exactly does that mean?"

"You are unaware? Unfortunate, though not surprising. Even if it had been explained, you might not remember the tea party."

"Tea party?" Subaru frowned. The phrase sparked something in the back of his mind, but it was out of reach.

"It is when a person is invited to speak with our creator, Echidna," Ryuzu explained. "Most do not remember. Young Gar was the last to attend. It would seem you have joined his ranks."

"Garfiel spoke with Echidna?" Subaru blinked. Then he frowned. "And you’re saying I did too, but just can’t remember?"

"Correct," Ryuzu nodded.

Subaru crossed his arms. "Well, that’s not great. Who knows what I said or agreed to… Questions for later. Can you explain the Apostle thing?"

"I cannot refuse you, so yes," Ryuzu replied. "An Apostle is one to whom Echidna has given a part of herself—hair, blood, nail, or some other piece."

Subaru arched an eyebrow. "You’re saying I consumed one of her hairs?"

"Or saliva. I am uncertain what form it took," she said flatly.

"As nasty as that sounds, what does that mean for me?"

"You can command the clones of Ryuzu Meyer, just as Young Gar can," she explained. "If you both gave conflicting orders, I suppose the commands might cancel each other out. It would depend on which of you consumed more of her essence, which is something we've never had to deal with. I am uncertain of the outcome."

"Clones? You mean… there are more of you?"

"Correct. I am one of the original clones of Ryuzu Meyer. The others, likely including the one you saw earlier, have no personality to speak of. They follow their purpose—and the commands of Apostles like yourself."

Subaru frowned. He was grateful for the information, but still cautious.

"Since you can’t refuse me, explain Garfiel’s motivations."

Ryuzu sighed. "Young Gar is torn. One side of him wants the Sanctuary freed. The other… does not. These conflicting motives war within him."

"He took the villagers hostage to get Emilia to take the trial, but doesn’t want the trial completed?" Subaru frowned. "So he’s not the only one against the trials being finished?"

"There are others, yes. But most here wish to be free to leave."

"And you?"

"I fall into the majority."

Subaru nodded. This Ryuzu Bilma was being helpful, but that didn’t mean she was trustworthy. If she were opposed to him, she could be feeding him false information. Still, she was worth listening to—for now.

"I have more questions," Subaru said.

"I would answer anything you ask, though perhaps it can wait," Ryuzu replied. "If you wish, I can serve you tea at my dwelling this evening."

Subaru nodded. "That would be fine."

Ryuzu dipped her head and turned to walk deeper into the woods.

Subaru watched her go, trying to piece together everything he’d just learned. He didn’t know what was coming next—but lunch was soon, and he’d be damned if he gave Felt a reason to bite his head off.

---

“What do you mean?” Felt barked, as they ate sandwiches which Grassis had delicately set out for them.

Felt had taken up residence in an old abandoned cottage with half the roof missing. When Flam and Grassis had tried to convince her to find somewhere nicer, she simply brushed them off. It reminded her of the slums—though in truth, it was a bit nicer.

“I mean, I need to take the rest of the trials, and I can’t tell you why,” Subaru rolled his eyes. He knew this was going to happen.

“Well, I should be told why! You’ve been acting strange, and not just because things are different with that Rom guy’s memories getting eaten!” Felt huffed.

“Things are different since that happened,” Subaru grumbled, pushing his food away. “But it’s more than that, and when I say I can’t tell you, believe me.”

“I bet this is that Roswaal guy's fault,” Felt groaned. “I’m going to go kick his ass.”

Subaru pushed her back into her chair before she could get up. “You’re not going anywhere near that bastard. For your safety and mine.”

“Why not?” Felt asked, narrowing her eyes. “Let me guess, you can’t say?”

“I really can’t,” he said firmly. “I need you to trust me.”

Felt sighed. “You know I do, but look at it from my perspective. Everything is a mess—apparently, my whole past is a partial lie, and you can’t or won’t tell me what’s wrong with you! How else am I supposed to act? How would you act if things were reversed?”

“Not well, I imagine,” Subaru sighed, sinking into his seat. “I need you to trust me. When I’m able to explain things, I will. For now, I don’t need you getting in the middle of what is a dangerous situation.”

“Well, if it’s that deadly, maybe one of us should go and fetch Reinhard. He could be useful for a change, instead of running off to play hero somewhere,” Felt grumbled.

“My timeline is on a bit of a crunch,” Subaru rubbed his forehead. “Can we change the subject? I’d rather just have lunch and not deal with this right now.”

Felt pouted but picked up a teacup and sipped it delicately, closing her eyes as she savored the flavor. “Fine. Can we talk about Rem then?”

Subaru arched an eyebrow, confused. “What about her?”

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Felt opened one eye to spy on him.

“She’s one of Roswaal’s maids, also a fairly good fighter,” Subaru said casually.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Felt frowned.

Subaru rolled his eyes. “I can tell she likes me, if that’s what you mean. I’m not a total idiot.”

“Implying that you are at least an idiot in part?” she smirked.

“Ha, ha,” Subaru mocked.

“Do you like her back?” Felt probed.

“I haven’t put much thought into the matter,” Subaru replied truthfully. “I’ve got more important things going on than worrying about who likes me and who doesn’t, Felt. Chiefly among them, making sure the people I care about stay alive. I’ve already fucked that up in part.”

“You mean that Rom guy?”

“Stop calling him that,” Subaru frowned.

“What?” Felt blinked.

“He’s just Rom, not ‘that Rom guy’,” Subaru snapped. “He’s our father in all but blood.”

Felt sighed. “I don’t remember any of that, no matter how many times you explain it to me. I have no feelings for that man one way or the other. However, if it makes you feel better, I will just call him Rom from now on.”

Subaru frowned but didn’t press the issue further. It wasn’t her fault, but damn him if it wasn’t hard to feel a bit mad at how callous she was being towards him. Though he didn’t want to know how it would feel to be told a part of your life was a lie.

“Whatever,” Subaru muttered. “I’ll find Gluttony and get Rom back.”

Felt nodded. “I… I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but… please don’t think poorly of me. I suppose it’s hard to believe that anyone other than you was there for me back then.”

Subaru sighed. “You’re family. You might piss me off sometimes, but I could never be mad at you. Not really.”

“Family… right,” Felt looked out the window, a bit conflicted. “Well, I suppose you have other things to do. Are you going to go do this trial thing again?”

“I am. Though if Emilia could complete it, that would be fine too,” Subaru said thoughtfully.

“Right…” Felt swirled her tea for a moment. “Listen, I hate arguing, or coming off like a hothead with you.”

“You are a hothead,” Subaru teased lightly.

Felt chuckled at that. “I know. I just… please, sometimes you do reckless, stupid things, and that makes me mad. Because… I don’t think I could do this without you. I need you, more than you know.”

Subaru looked at her and saw she was clutching her cup tightly. She took in a sharp breath and shook her head. “Go. As much as it pisses me off, I won’t ask you about this mess until you can tell me about it. But when this is all over, if you’re still acting strange, I’m going to thump you over the head until you act right!”

Subaru smirked. “Well, I’ll hold you to that.”

Rising, he patted her on the head and watched as she flushed and looked away. Thanking the twins for the food, he departed to take the short walk to find Emilia.

---

“Well, here we are," Subaru said as the twisted feeling in his gut bit at him, the black oily hands wriggling around him. It was odd when he thought about it, but they felt as if they were extra extensions of his body.

Petelgeuse stood beside him, fumbling with his cloak. "I remember seeing her like it was yesterday. Though I can tell it was… very long ago."

"Well, ready or not," Subaru knocked on the door.

"Come in," Emilia called from inside.

Pushing the door open, Subaru entered to the small cottage where Emilia had been put up was rather cozy. She sat at the small table with a cup of tea, gazing down at the crystal around her neck.

"Oh, Subaru, I wasn’t expecting you to visit…" Emilia smiled, though there was a lingering sadness in her expression.

"She’s… so much older," Petelgeuse said softly, stepping closer. "I’ve… I’ve missed so much."

"I can’t imagine," Subaru thought, heart heavy.

"Puck still not showing himself?" Subaru asked gently.

"No," she shook her head, "I’ve been trying to get him to come out, but… he won’t respond. It’s not like him."

Subaru frowned. Usually, bad things happened when Puck went missing, which seemed to be happening more and more often lately. Emilia’s time in the trial had clearly been rough. She'd been a wreck when he'd carried her out, though he still didn’t know exactly what she’d seen.

"Emilia… the trial, I—"

"I would rather not talk about it," Emilia said quickly.

"I need to, not for myself." Subaru took a step forward. "Do you remember a man named Petelgeuse?"

"She would know me as Geuse," Petelgeuse added quickly.

"Geuse, rather," Subaru corrected.

"I… no… There was a man in my trial…" Emilia shivered, then looked up at Subaru, confusion etched on her face. "How would you know… You didn’t see when you were in the tomb, did you?"

"No," Subaru sighed, "That man is in my head, so to speak."

"In your head?" Emilia blinked. "I don’t follow."

"When I killed the Sin Archbishop of Sloth… I absorbed… I guess his soul," Subaru explained. "Though, thank the Dragon, he’s not insane anymore."

Emilia looked visibly uncomfortable. "You… have a Sin Archbishop in your head?"

"To be fair, he did save me. I can’t explain it all now," Subaru said, exasperated. "He told me he knew you as a child. I can let you talk to him, if you want."

"Subaru, this is a bit confusing. What do you mean, talk to him?" Emilia asked, brows knitting together. "This isn’t a joke, I hope."

"Showtime," Subaru thought.

Nodding, Petelgeuse walked over and reached out. The feeling of someone grabbing at your soul to take over your body was strange. He hadn’t remembered it the first time. He instinctively resisted, then slowly allowed himself to be pulled free.

---

It was odd—the shift from being a soul to inhabiting a body again, especially one that wasn’t his own.

Looking at Emilia with his own eyes… it was hard. She had grown so much, no longer the small, joyful girl who used to run through the forest. How many years had gone by? How much had he missed?

“You… look so much like her,” Petelgeuse murmured.

“Subaru… what are you talking about?” Emilia shifted back, wary.

“Oh—of course. You wouldn’t see the change,” Petelgeuse rubbed the back of Subaru’s head awkwardly. “I am Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti. I’m currently inhabiting Subaru’s body—he let me take control. Willingly, I assure you.”

“This… this must be a bad joke,” Emilia said, her voice trembling. “It’s not funny, Subaru!”

“I swear, it’s no joke,” he said gently. “I understand that you don’t remember, and that’s okay. There is much I, too, cannot recall—perhaps mercifully so. But I remain a sinner, with more to atone for now than ever.”

“You—No! I don’t believe it. How could you be that man?” she cried, shaking her head.

“I used to visit you when you were a child. You and Miss Fortuna—your mother, as you called her then. I remember how happy you both were together,” Petelgeuse said softly. “I supplied the elves of the Great Elior Forest. The first time I saw you… I was struck by your presence. It was a joy to grow close to all of you.”

“No…” Emilia whispered. “I… I don’t…”

She dropped to her knees, tears brimming in her eyes. “I don’t remember any of it!”

“Emilia!” Petelgeuse stepped forward instinctively, but she flinched away from him, terror in her eyes.

“Get away!” she shouted.

“This isn’t how I imagined this would go,” Subaru’s voice echoed in Petelgeuse’s mind. “She must have seen something in the trial. Something awful.”

“Emilia… what happened to your memories? Why can’t you remember any of it?” Petelgeuse asked, stepping back in anguish.

“You… everyone…” Emilia clutched her head. “It was all my fault… I don’t know any of you!”

“That’s enough,” Subaru warned from within.

“No… I have to protect her, ” Petelgeuse whispered, almost to himself.

“Emilia, please—what happened to Fortuna?” he asked, voice cracking.

Emilia’s eyes went wide with panic. “I don’t know who that woman is—I don’t… she’s… she’s… No… I…”

“That’s enough, Petelgeuse!” Subaru snapped.

Slowly, Petelgeuse nodded, the weight of regret hanging on his shoulders. “Her memories… they must be sealed, somehow.”

“She wants to remember,” Subaru added quietly. “But something’s stopping her.”

“Coming here… was a mistake,” Petelgeuse admitted.

“Puck… please… Puck!” Emilia sobbed, curling into herself on the floor.

And with that, Petelgeuse relinquished control, his soul slipping back into the shadows as Subaru’s body stilled once more.

---

Subaru had to go get Rem to tend to Emilia. She was shaking like a leaf and barely able to pull herself together. She looked at Subaru like he was possessed—though, in a sense, he supposed he was.

Afterward, Ram had scolded him, probing for answers. Subaru refused to elaborate. He wasn’t about to tell her he had a Sin Archbishop in his head. Mercifully, Emilia hadn’t spoken about it either.

She needs time to process everything, Subaru told himself.

It was late afternoon by the time Subaru found the cottage belonging to Ryuzu—specifically, Ryuzu Bilma. With the help of one of the Sanctuary’s residents, he finally reached the place. Inside, he found the small girl boiling a kettle of water, peering into it with a quiet curiosity.

“I was beginning to wonder when you’d come, Young Su,” she said, not looking up.

“You call me Young Su, yet you don’t look much older than Flam or Grassis,” Subaru noted.

“I may appear to be a child, but I am over four hundred years old. So to me, all of you are young, Young Su,” Ryuzu replied.

“How’s the tea coming along?” Subaru asked, taking in the ancient atmosphere of the place.

“Fine. I’ve spent hundreds of years perfecting my craft. I hope you’ll find some enjoyment in it,” she said evenly.

“How are you so old anyway?” Subaru asked.

“I am little more than a vessel formed by mana. We have an artificial Od, you see,” she added some leaves to the kettle. “We do not age or require food or drink. We only need to be recharged from time to time.”

“So, you’re immortal?” Subaru asked, watching her take the kettle off the fire.

“In a sense. We are all copies of the original, Ryuzu Meyer,” she explained, setting out two clay cups. “Our creator made us so she might cheat death.”

“What? By moving her soul into one of you?” Subaru raised an eyebrow.

“Quite so.”

“I was joking,” Subaru frowned. “That’s a little messed up.”

“It was unsuccessful—otherwise, Echidna would still be here in one form or another,” Ryuzu said flatly. “Tea should be ready soon.”

Subaru looked at the kettle. He’d been drinking tea all day, it felt like.

“So, you don’t need to drink but enjoy tea anyway?”

“It became a hobby,” she shrugged. “For many years, I had no personality to speak of. At some point, I began to become an individual.”

“That sounds… wow,” Subaru said. He tried to imagine that, but the thought made him uncomfortable.

“It is how I am. I know nothing else, Young Su,” she said, pouring the tea and blowing on the steam before taking a sip.

Subaru took a cup and gave it a sniff. It smelled pleasant. Taking a sip, he found it was probably the best tea he’d ever had. “This is good.”

“It warms me to hear that,” Ryuzu said with a hint of pride. “I’ve gone through thousands of variations to reach this one, though I believe it can still be improved.”

“Is this the only tea you make?” Subaru asked.

“I have a few hundred others I’ve perfected. The day’s brew depends on the ingredients I have on hand,” she answered. “But we’re getting a little off topic. Though if you wish, I could discuss my hobby for as long as you like, Young Su.”

“Right, right,” Subaru shook his head. “How many clones are there exactly?”

“Twenty-five, if you count those without personalities,” she replied. “Four of us have independent thought.”

Just then, the cabin door opened, and another Ryuzu entered carrying a basket full of ingredients. She looked at Subaru with a strange expression before setting the basket down and sitting beside him. Without a word, she reached out and grabbed his shirt like a small, lost child.

“Um… hello?” Subaru blinked.

“Odd. She seems a bit attached,” Ryuzu Bilma observed. “It must be because you are an Apostle.”

“Do… they talk?” Subaru asked, glancing at the blank-faced girl.

“No, unfortunately,” Ryuzu Bilma said with a faint note of sadness. “She will obey any command you give her—same as me. Even if all you want is someone to hold onto at night.”

“I think Felt would murder me,” Subaru muttered. “I want to know—who exactly wants the barrier to stay in place?”

“Ryuzu Shima. She’s been working with Young Gar to keep the Sanctuary sealed for some time,” Ryuzu said calmly.

“But if I gave her an order?”

“She would have to obey. Though it’s likely Young Gar would stop her.”

“Alright, so best to avoid her. How can I tell the difference?”

“She wears white. Ten years ago, she lost the right to call herself an Overseer. Now she lives in the forest with the others.”

Subaru didn’t fully understand the politics, but he nodded. “So, avoid her,” he confirmed. He looked down at the girl holding his shirt. “So… they don’t have names?”

“No.”

“That doesn’t seem right…” Subaru thought for a moment, then smiled. “I think I’ll call you Pico.”

The girl looked up at him. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of emotion—maybe wonder—in her eyes. Maybe.

“You are quite interesting,” Ryuzu Bilma said, watching him. “I must ask—why do you smell of the Witch?”

“Do you mean Echidna?” Subaru asked carefully.

“No. Satella,” she replied bluntly.

Subaru crossed his arms. “Petelgeuse seems to think I have a connection to her through Flugel. Maybe we’re related. It’s hard to say for sure. I honestly don’t know the real reason.”

“Petelgeuse? The Sin Archbishop of Sloth?” she asked slowly.

“I’m not with the Cult, if that’s your concern,” Subaru said flatly. “I’ve spoken with him—when he wasn’t insane.”

“That would have been over a century ago. You don’t seem that old, Young Su.”

“I order you not to tell anyone,” Subaru said. “And yes… he’s in my head. He’s not insane anymore and—oddly—has been quite helpful. Never thought I’d end up relying on someone I once tried to kill.”

“Interesting,” she said with a nod. “I will keep your words safe.”

Subaru was just about to ask another question when a loud bang echoed against the door. A heartbeat later, it burst open, and Flam and Grassis stumbled in, breathless and wide-eyed.

Subaru shot to his feet, his heart lurching in his chest.

“Flam? Grassis?” he looked between them, his voice tight with alarm.

If they’re here… then where’s—

“What happened?!” he demanded.

“Lady Felt—” Flam gasped, clutching her side as she tried to catch her breath. “She’s missing!”

Chapter 29: ARC 3 - Chapter 9: Horror

ARC III

---

Chapter XI:

Horror

---

Subaru sprinted through the village, his eyes darting around desperately. Most villagers had already joined the frantic search, but Subaru instinctively knew that Felt hadn’t merely wandered into the woods.

Flam and Grassis had explained the circumstances: they'd stepped away briefly to speak with Otto, and Felt had entered the storage room to fetch feed for Patrasche. She hadn’t returned, and there was no trace of her left upon investigation.

“Where are we headed?” Flam called as they matched Subaru’s urgent pace.

“Only two possibilities,” Subaru replied, jaw clenched tightly. “We’ll start with Garfiel. Stay alert.”

Both nodded silently.

It didn’t take long to find Garfiel standing at the edge of the village, his arms crossed, his expression dark and brooding, watching the villagers comb the forest.

“Garfiel!” Subaru shouted as they approached.

Garfiel shot him a glance before returning his gaze to the searching villagers. “Heard about yer friend. Shame, I know you two are close.”

Subaru forced himself to stay calm. “I appreciate that. Listen, I don’t think you’re responsible—but do you have any idea who might be?”

“Not a clue,” Garfiel said flatly, his frown deepening. “I ain’t kidnappin’ girls for no reason.”

Subaru stepped forward, voice firm. “Then come with me.”

Garfiel raised an eyebrow, annoyed. “An’ why would I follow yer orders?”

“I’m about to confront who I think is behind this,” Subaru replied, his voice unwavering. “And I’d prefer someone strong by my side.”

Garfiel’s irritation softened slightly into curiosity. “Roswaal?”

Subaru nodded grimly.

“Fine. But only 'cause I hate that smug bastard myself.” Garfiel turned abruptly, leading the way toward Roswaal’s residence.

When they arrived, Rem was outside, confusion etched across her face as she spotted them approaching. “Subaru? I heard about Felt—did you find—?”

“We need to talk to Roswaal,” Subaru interrupted firmly.

Rem hesitated but nodded, leading them into Roswaal’s room, where Ram was busy changing his bandages. Flam and Grassis eyed Roswaal suspiciously as Subaru drew his sword without hesitation.

“Subaru, this isn't—” Rem started nervously.

“Where the hell is my sister, Roswaal?” Subaru demanded, ignoring her, his voice tense with fury.

Ram immediately positioned herself protectively between Subaru and Roswaal. “You dare barge in here threatening Master Roswaal?”

“Ram, no need to protect this creep,” Garfiel snarled, stepping closer.

“I won’t let you threaten him!” Ram snapped back, mana swirling around her defensively.

Roswaal laughed.

The room went quiet, everyone but Subaru turning toward Roswaal in confusion. Subaru tightened his grip on his sword, sparks dancing along its edge.

“I see what haaaaappened,” Roswaal said smoothly, his eyes locked onto Subaru with a knowing smirk. “Long ago, Beatrice developed her Door Crossing magic here. Perhaps your little Felt stumbled through one of those abandoned doors.”

“That’s bullshit,” Subaru growled, the sparks intensifying.

“Uncommon, certainly,” Roswaal shrugged, unfazed. “The barrier prevents it from activating for current residents. Outsiders, though… they might find themselves transported.”

Subaru moved closer, ignoring Ram’s bristling aura. He was ready to fight if necessary, determined to force the truth from Roswaal’s lips.

“If that’s true,” Flam interjected quietly, “where would she be now?”

“Back at the manor, I assume,” Roswaal replied calmly, almost lazily. “Though precisely where, I couldn't say. It's been so loooong.”

Subaru didn't trust a single word. This felt too deliberate—it was a trap.

“If you're lying…” Subaru warned darkly.

“See for yourself,” Roswaal challenged coolly. “Besides, it would be for the best if you took a leave of absence for a while. You caused Emilia considerable distress today. Poor Rem spent hours helping her calm down. Luckily, Emilia will still take her trial this evening.”

Garfiel glared sharply at Subaru, suspicion renewed.

You manipulative bastard… Subaru cursed inwardly, sheathing his sword reluctantly.

“Flam, Grassis—find Otto. We’re leaving immediately to check on Felt,” Subaru ordered, voice tense.

Traveling would take until morning; even if Felt was safe, he'd lose precious time returning. Subaru knew this couldn't be Roswaal’s whole plan. There had to be more—something worse waiting in the wings.

Giving the room one final glare, Subaru turned swiftly, heading off to saddle Patrasche, heart racing with worry and anger.

Otto was ready in a flash. He quickly informed Subaru that he was certain Felt wasn't anywhere in the forest.

“I never told you this before, but I have a Divine Protection that lets me communicate with animals, insects, and anything that isn’t a humanoid,” Otto admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

Subaru considered this revelation, and it made perfect sense. He had always assumed Otto was simply skilled at reading earth dragons, but this explained much more clearly why Otto could translate for them with such ease.

Rem and Garfiel were the only two who saw them off. Emilia was occupied with preparations for the trial—or perhaps more accurately, still recovering from her earlier conversation with Petelgeuse. Subaru suspected the Archbishop had triggered memories Emilia had long kept suppressed, causing significant distress.

“We should reach the manor by early morning,” Otto assured them as they crossed beyond the border of the Sanctuary.

Subaru had to restrain himself from urging Patrasche into a full sprint. He knew he could easily outpace Otto and the twins, but it seemed wiser to arrive together in case they encountered trouble. Yet a nagging feeling persisted that this journey was a race against time.

Whatever the case, Subaru couldn’t shake his anxiety about what might await them.

Dawn finally broke, revealing the manor perched on the next hill. Arlam lay just beyond, nestled peacefully against the forest. Subaru was relieved to see no smoke or signs of destruction rising from the village; too many past returns had shown him scenes of chaos and ruin.

“With any luck, I’ll be wrong, and Felt will be comfortably enjoying tea with Frederica and Petra,” Subaru remarked hopefully.

“Yeah, then we can finally rest and get some food,” Otto yawned, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

A tense quiet hung over them as they approached the manor. Subaru surveyed the gardens, noting everything appeared normal, though a lingering unease remained.

“Ah, there you are,” a gentle voice greeted them warmly.

Turning, Subaru watched Frederica emerge from the manor, her hands folded gracefully as she offered a welcoming smile. “I noticed your carriage arriving and wondered when you'd finally come back.”

“Frederica,” Subaru said, dismounting Patrasche and glancing around cautiously, “is Felt here, by any chance?”

Frederica nodded reassuringly. “She arrived quite suddenly yesterday afternoon. I must admit, it was rather unexpected. She startled poor Petra terribly by stumbling out of a closet while Petra was tidying up. Lady Felt certainly gave the girl quite the shock.”

Subaru felt a wave of relief wash over him. If the worst that happened was Felt startling Petra, perhaps everything would indeed be fine.

Could it just be a coincidence? Subaru wondered, although he knew better than to trust such convenient luck.

“You look exhausted,” Frederica remarked gently, eyeing Otto, who appeared ready to collapse.

“If I could have something to eat and a bed, I’d be eternally grateful,” Otto groaned, nearly tumbling off the carriage seat.

“Of course, we should get you all inside,” Frederica responded warmly.

Subaru nodded, slipping from Patrasche’s saddle as his exhaustion began to catch up with him. He volunteered to take care of the earth dragons and carriage, an offer Otto readily accepted. Flam and Grassis made no objections, clearly anxious to confirm Felt’s safety firsthand.

It took Subaru longer than expected to settle the dragons into their pens. Frufoo, utterly spent, showed no interest in food, while Patrasche eagerly devoured nearly the entire bucket of feed as soon as Subaru offered it.

Once satisfied that the dragons were properly cared for, Subaru hurried toward the manor, anxious to see Felt with his own eyes. Ensuring her safety was paramount, and afterward, he would insist she return immediately to the capital. With Roswaal’s machinations escalating, keeping Felt close posed too great a risk. She was a vulnerability that could be exploited against him now.

Bringing her to the Sanctuary was reckless from the start, Subaru realized bitterly. It felt as though he had been stumbling from one misstep to another. He resolved to act more cautiously, or at the very least, more decisively from now on.

As Subaru stepped into the manor, he moved cautiously, fully aware that this was Roswaal’s territory, where traps and dangers could be lurking at every turn.

“Subaru, we’re up here!” Petra called cheerfully from the staircase, waving her hand.

Releasing a tired sigh, Subaru dragged himself up the stairs after her. Petra chatted eagerly as they walked, enthusiastically recounting all she had learned from Frederica and expressing her excitement about the new job. Subaru felt a pang of guilt when they reached the drawing room; he realized he'd barely registered a word she had spoken, his mind foggy from exhaustion and distracted by nagging anxieties.

Inside the drawing room, Subaru quickly noticed Otto was absent. Petra explained that he'd immediately fallen asleep upon being shown to his guest room, a reaction Subaru completely understood.

Felt sat comfortably, sipping tea and offering a mischievous smile. “Ah, there you are. Took your sweet time, didn’t you?”

“You seem pretty relaxed for someone who randomly ended up stuck in a closet,” Subaru replied, sinking heavily into a nearby chair. Fatigue spread through every muscle as he leaned back.

“Well, I won't lie—it startled me at first,” Felt shrugged nonchalantly, "but I figured you'd show up eventually, so I wasn’t too worried. Now we can finally sort out this Sanctuary mess together."

"Sort it out how, exactly?" Subaru asked wearily, reaching out for a biscuit.

“I don’t know yet,” Felt said, her smile growing sharper. “But knowing you, you’ll think of something.”

Subaru hesitated, an uneasy feeling prickling at the edge of his consciousness. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. So far, things hadn’t gone wrong. 

“You look tired, Subaru,” Petra interjected, voice filled with concern. “Why don’t you get some sleep first? We can discuss everything later.”

"You’re probably right," Subaru sighed, massaging the back of his neck. "Flam, Grassis—one of you should head out and fetch Reinhard tomorrow morning."

“I’ll go,” Grassis volunteered quickly. “I ride better than Flam.”

“Do not!” Flam protested immediately.

“Enough arguing,” Felt said decisively, cutting them off, “she volunteered first. End of discussion.”

Flam scowled slightly but made no further objections.

After devouring a few biscuits, Subaru pushed himself upright. “I need rest. I'll see you all later,” he announced, noticing Petra's lingering gaze as he moved toward the hallway. Her attention wasn't unusual, but today it gave him pause, stirring faint unease.

When he reached his room, Subaru paused before entering, glancing around uncertainly. Something felt undeniably wrong, though he couldn’t pinpoint the source. Trusting instinct, he locked the door behind him, trying to dismiss the nagging sensation as mere paranoia caused by fatigue.

Collapsing onto the bed, he barely registered the softness of the pillow before exhaustion dragged him swiftly into sleep.

“Wake up!”

Subaru’s eyes snapped open as he bolted upright in bed. The room was dark, illuminated only by pale moonlight streaming through the windows. He realized with a pang of disorientation that he must have slept the entire day away. Looking quickly to his right, Subaru saw Otto standing over him, visibly frantic.

“Otto, what—”

Otto swiftly placed a hand over Subaru’s mouth, raising a finger urgently to his own lips. The merchant-turned-stagecoach glanced anxiously toward the door, listening intently.

“I tried to get into your room, but the door was locked—I had to pick it,” Otto whispered nervously.

“You can pick locks?” Subaru responded in an equally hushed tone.

“You pick up a few things on the road,” Otto replied quickly, shaking his head. “But that’s not important right now. Something’s seriously wrong.”

Subaru carefully slid out of bed, avoiding any unnecessary noise. “What do you mean?”

“Patrasche and Frufoo are both missing,” Otto said, his voice shaking slightly. “I went to check on them, but…”

“But what?” Subaru asked, a creeping dread beginning to tighten around his chest.

“They were gone,” Otto answered, his eyes wide with worry. “I tried talking to some woodland creatures for information, but nearly all of them had fled. The few birds I managed to speak with said the others scattered because there’s an unusual number of witchbeasts nearby—powerful ones, not the kind we’ve dealt with before.”

“That’s not good,” Subaru muttered, glancing warily around the dimly lit hallway. “What about the village? Is the barrier down?”

“Not sure,” Otto replied, his voice tense. “The birds were panicked and flew off before I could get much out of them.”

Subaru turned to the window. Outside, the world was still and quiet, but a knot of unease coiled in his gut. “Go find Felt and the twins. Wake them up. I’ll search for Petra, Frederica, and—if I’m lucky—Beatrice.”

Otto nodded quickly. “Alright. I’ll be careful.”

Subaru watched Otto disappear toward Felt’s room, then turned on his heel and headed for the servants’ quarters. Drawing his sword without hesitation, he moved swiftly but silently. He considered summoning Petelgeuse’s unseen hands—but the strain was too great unless absolutely necessary.

The halls were oppressively quiet. Shadows stretched long across the floors. Arriving at the corridor with the staff rooms, Subaru noticed something immediately: the doors to Petra’s and Frederica’s rooms stood slightly ajar.

His brow furrowed as he approached cautiously. Pushing one door open, he was greeted by chaos. Feathers blanketed the floor from a slashed mattress. The walls were scarred by deep gashes, and a large hole was punched into the shared wall with Ram’s room.

Subaru narrowed his eyes. Something violent had happened here.

A sudden creak behind him made his heart jolt. He spun, blade flashing—only to freeze the swing mid-arc as he recognized Petra. She squeaked and stumbled back, landing hard on the floor.

“By the Dragon,” Subaru breathed heavily, lowering his sword. “You scared the life out of me!”

“Scared you?!” Petra barked, climbing to her feet, wide-eyed. “You almost cut me in two, Subaru!”

“I thought you were—never mind.” He glanced back into the ruined room. “The door was open. The place is torn to shreds. Do you have any idea what happened here?”

“No clue,” Petra replied, stepping cautiously closer. “Frederica was making a lot of noise earlier, though. Maybe something set her off?”

Subaru frowned, eyeing the destruction again. He didn’t know Frederica well, but it would take something serious to leave a room looking like this. Something didn’t add up. Something felt wrong.

“Have you seen or heard anything strange?” Subaru asked, his voice low but urgent.

Petra shook her head, looking uneasy. “No... Subaru, is something going on?”

“Otto discovered a group of Witchbeasts closing in around the manor,” Subaru said grimly. “Patrasche and Frufoo are missing too. Whatever this is, it’s bad.”

Petra’s expression hardened. “Then we should go find Frederica and the others,” she said, then paused, eyes widening. “What about the villagers in Arlam?”

“As far as I know, the barrier should keep them safe,” Subaru replied, though he wasn’t completely sure. “For now, let’s find the others. If you come across Beatrice’s door, try to get her to come with you. She’s strong—if anyone can protect this place, it’s her.”

Petra nodded as Subaru turned down the hallway. With luck, Otto would already have Felt and the twins on their feet. If it was just Witchbeasts, Subaru figured he could handle it—he wasn’t the same as when the wolgarms first attacked Arlam.

The manor was quiet, too quiet. Shadows shifted with every flicker of moonlight through the tall windows. As they walked, Petra quietly reached for Subaru’s hand. He didn’t question it. She was just a kid, and she’d seen more horror than most adults. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze.

A flicker of movement made Subaru whirl around, blade half-raised—only to see Frederica stepping out of a side room.

“Petra, Subaru? You’re both up late,” she said with a soft smile.

Subaru kept his eyes on her. “Frederica… where were you just now?”

“I was preparing a little something for Flam and Grassis,” she answered, eyes flicking to the sword in Subaru’s hand. “Is something wrong?”

There was blood on her right hand—small, but unmistakable.

“I’d like to check that room,” Subaru said slowly, keeping his grip firm on his weapon.

Frederica tilted her head, still smiling. “It’s just a storage room, but if it’ll ease your worries, be my guest.”

Subaru moved cautiously, his senses on high alert. If Frederica was anything like Garfiel, she could transform, and that meant she could kill him in an instant if he let his guard drop.

The room appeared normal at first glance—dusty, unused. That in itself made the open crate in the corner stand out. Its surface was swept clean in contrast to everything else. Subaru approached it slowly, glanced back at Frederica—still watching him—and lifted the lid.

His breath caught.

Inside, wrapped in a blood-soaked blanket, lay Otto. Dead. Eyes wide open, staring up at nothing.

“Shamak,” Subaru whispered, instinct overtaking reason.

Smoke exploded into the room. He rolled away just in time as Frederica lunged, dagger gleaming in the moonlight. Her blade hit the floor where his neck had been a heartbeat earlier.

No time to think. Just move.

Scooping Petra into his arms—her gasp choked with panic—Subaru sprinted down the corridor toward where Felt and the twins were staying. He didn’t know what had driven Frederica to kill Otto, but he was sure of one thing: she wasn’t herself anymore.

“Subaru, w-what was in the crate?!” Petra asked, trembling in his arms.

“Better if you don’t know,” he muttered, glancing back.

Frederica was chasing after them, her movements unnaturally fast. The dagger in her hand shimmered. Her smile was gone now—replaced by a hungry, focused glare that chilled Subaru to his bones.

“This is bad!” Subaru said sharply.

As if in response, a window burst open ahead of him, a snarling wolgarm skidding into the hallway. Without hesitation, Subaru flicked his sword forward, sending a crackling bolt of lightning directly into the creature’s horn. It collapsed instantly, but he didn’t pause—he leaped over its smoldering body, turning mid-air to unleash a jet of flame behind him toward the pursuing Frederica.

Petra screamed frantically from Subaru's shoulder, but he had no time to reassure her. He could only focus on staying alive through whatever madness had overtaken Frederica.

Reaching Felt’s room, Subaru didn’t wait to knock—he slammed his mana-infused foot into the door, sending it crashing open. His stomach lurched at the grisly sight inside: Flam and Grassis lay on the floor, their bodies grotesquely torn open, blood staining every surface.

Subaru forced himself to look away, frantically scanning the room. Felt was nowhere to be seen. That alone propelled him forward—he couldn't, wouldn't, accept the possibility she was gone.

A sudden flash of movement caught his attention. Subaru spun around, barely raising his sword in time to block Frederica’s blade, sparks erupting as steel clashed against steel.

“Ah, a shame,” Frederica smirked darkly. “I hoped seeing those girls like that would break you.”

With a grunt, Subaru drove his foot into Frederica’s chest, knocking her backward momentarily. But his relief was short-lived; behind him, the corridor windows shattered as a wave of wolgarms and black-winged mice flooded inside, cutting off any hope of retreat.

Subaru clenched his jaw, eyes darting rapidly between threats. He was cornered, with Felt missing—or worse.

No, he wouldn’t accept that.

Faced with enemies on both sides, he chose the only option left. With a swift, mana-fueled strike, he plunged his blade downward, shattering the floor beneath him. Petra let out a terrified shriek as they plummeted, landing hard on the floor below.

Scrambling to his feet, Subaru sprinted down the hall, mind racing. He needed a safe place for Petra. He suddenly remembered the hidden passage in Roswaal’s office.

“Petra,” he said urgently as he raced toward the main staircase, “there’s a hidden escape route in Roswaal’s office. Do you know where it is?”

She nodded shakily.

At the staircase, Subaru gently set Petra down. “Go. Use the escape route and get away from here.”

“What about you?” Petra cried, eyes wide with panic.

“I need to find Felt,” Subaru insisted.

Afterward, he’d face whatever consequences were necessary—even if it meant resetting. But not until he was certain Felt was safe.

“Please, Subaru, don’t leave me—”

Petra’s plea was interrupted by a distant, terrified scream—Felt’s voice, coming from the baths below.

Subaru turned sharply, ready to run to her aid, but a sudden searing pain erupted in his side. Stumbling back, he looked down in shock at the crimson stain rapidly spreading across his shirt. Petra stood before him, dagger dripping with his blood, a disappointed expression on her face.

“Oh, I missed,” she sighed lightly.

“I warned you to practice more with blades,” Frederica’s voice mocked, echoing down the corridor as she emerged from the shadows, spinning a dagger casually. Behind her loomed an advancing horde of Witchbeasts.

“I prefer spending time with my friends, thanks!” Petra retorted cheerfully, then looked up at Subaru with a twisted smile. “It was sweet of you to carry me, Subaru. But I think big sister and I should wrap things up now.”

Subaru staggered, clutching his wounded side. “Petra…why…?”

“Who better to fool you than a sweet face like mine?” Petra giggled innocently. “Don’t struggle. It’ll be over quicker that way.”

Subaru gritted his teeth. He couldn’t hesitate—not now. Gathering every ounce of mana he could muster, he unleashed a fierce wave of fire from his sword. Frederica’s eyes widened as the corridor erupted in flames, the scorching blaze engulfing everything in sight. Subaru felt a pang of guilt, hoping desperately that Beatrice’s door was safely beyond the fire’s reach.

Ignoring the pain in his side, Subaru dashed downstairs toward the baths. Felt’s frantic pounding and muffled shouts drew him closer.

“Felt, stand back!” he shouted, kicking the bathhouse door open. He stumbled inside, breathing heavily as Felt rushed toward him, her eyes wide with concern.

“Subaru! What happened—are you okay?!” she asked frantically, eyes fixed on his blood-soaked shirt.

He grimaced, steadying himself. “I’ll live,” he managed, bracing for whatever came next.

Subaru looked around, heart pounding. They were underground. The only exit was the way he’d come. If Frederica and Petra were still alive, he’d have to fight through both. Even if it meant his death, he would make sure Felt made it out. That was all that mattered now.

“Subaru…” Felt reached over and touched his bleeding side.

“Stay behind me. No matter what happens, I’ll get you—”

He went wide-eyed as she suddenly pulled him down—and kissed him.

It wasn’t a quick peck. It was deep, lingering.

“If we’re going to die here,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, “I don’t want it to be with regrets.”

Subaru blinked. Confused. Before he could even process it, she kissed him again—this time more forcefully, her tongue pushing against his lips.

This isn’t right.

Then—pain. A blinding, searing flash shot up his sword arm.

Subaru was sent flying, slamming hard into one of the bathhouse pillars. Gasping, he looked down in horror. His arm—gone. Severed clean at the elbow.

He screamed, clutching at the bloody stump.

Felt stood over him, holding his severed arm like a prize.

“You actually fell for that?” she cackled, twirling the limb mockingly. “Are you stupid, or do you just think with your dick?”

Subaru tried to rise, still in shock, but his body was failing him. He was dizzy, blood loss and betrayal clouding everything.

“F-Felt…” he gasped.

“Oh, poor thing.” She knelt, picking up his sword. “Fancy blade. Did you get this just for me?”

The blade glowed red as she channeled heat into it. Then—without warning—she pressed the burning metal against his stump.

Subaru howled in agony. He nearly blacked out from the pain.

But he didn’t.

“Still awake? Good,” she purred, running a hand along his cheek. “I didn’t want you dying too fast.”

Subaru panted, eyes wide, sweat mixing with tears. “I don’t understand…”

“You’re not supposed to.” She kicked him back down as he tried to get up again. “Stay. You’re just meat. Lewd, squirming, bleeding meat.”

She smirked. “But you’re a decent kisser. Bit sloppy. I bet no one’s ever really put their tongue down your throat before. You should be honored .”

Subaru stared up at her, mind racing.

This isn’t real.

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” she giggled, tilting her head. “No surprise. You do look like a moron.”

Then her body began to change.

Flesh shifted. Bones creaked. Her frame elongated just slightly—her limbs thinner, her posture regal. Her golden hair shimmered into a richer tone. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly. Her outfit turned black and purple, laced with suggestive cuts that exposed her stomach and thighs. Worst of all, two grotesque appendages sprouted from her back, insect-like, slick and twitching.

Subaru froze. The face before him was unfamiliar and horrifying. She looked like some distorted echo of Felt, but the eyes… they were nothing like hers.

“W-What the hell are you?” he asked, voice trembling.

The girl smiled, then bowed with exaggerated grace.

“The Sin Archbishop of the Witch’s Cult representing Lust,” she purred. “Capella Emerada Lugunica. The pleasure is all yours!”

Subaru’s heart sank.

“Where’s Felt?! What did you do to her?!”

Capella’s smile twisted into something wicked. One of her black limbs lashed out—so fast he couldn’t react. It slammed into his chest, sending him crashing into the far wall.

Pain erupted in his ribs. He coughed up blood, vision blurring.

“You’re still worried about that little slut?” Capella laughed, voice echoing through the chamber. “You should be more concerned about the goddess standing before you.”

“Where is she?!” Subaru roared, forcing himself to one knee, blood dripping from his side. The pain didn’t matter. He’d been closer to death before. This—he could survive.

Capella sighed dramatically. “If you want the inferior product…” With a flick of her long, lizard-like tail, she struck a stone in the far wall. A hidden panel groaned open, revealing a cramped chamber beyond.

Inside, Felt was tied to a chair, unconscious. Her body was bruised and limp, her face pale and slick with sweat. The air reeked of rot. Flies buzzed lazily around piles of glistening meat that looked barely human.

“Oh? Still asleep, poor thing,” Capella cooed. She sauntered over, humming a twisted lullaby under her breath. “I wonder if she’ll be jealous I stole a kiss from her big, strong Subaru.”

She slapped Felt across the face.

Felt groaned, stirring. Her swollen eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first—until they locked onto Subaru.

“S-Subaru…” Her voice was cracked and weak. “R-run…”

“Run, she says!” Capella squealed with delight. She grabbed Felt’s chin, forcing her to look at him. “Look who came crawling back! Isn’t that romantic?”

“Don’t you touch her!” Subaru snarled, pushing himself up on his one good arm.

Capella’s smile dropped. “I didn’t say you could talk, meat.”

Just then, the doorway behind her opened with a creak.

Frederica stepped through, cradling Petra in her arms. Their clothes were scorched, soot-stained—but otherwise they looked unharmed.

Subaru’s stomach turned. That fire should’ve done more than just singe them...

“Mother,” Frederica said, her tone eerily calm, “Sister is hurt. I ask to be returned, and to pursue the spirit girl afterward.”

Capella sighed like a weary actress. “I suppose you’ve earned it. The others are dealt with?”

“Of course, Mother,” Frederica confirmed without hesitation.

Capella turned, sauntering away from Felt. “Fine. Take your leave. I’ll finish things here.”

Subaru didn’t wait. He started crawling toward Felt, teeth clenched, ignoring the searing pain that radiated from every nerve.

Then—he froze.

In his peripheral vision, he watched as Frederica and Petra… changed.

Their bodies twisted, bones cracking, skin rippling. It was grotesque. Frederica’s sharp features melted into a familiar pale face, with dark, calculating eyes. Petra shrank, her innocence twisting into something sinister and childlike.

Subaru’s heart dropped.

No...

Before him now stood Elsa Granhiert, the Bowel Hunter—grinning like death herself—and beside her, Meili , the blue-haired girl who’d vanished after the Wolgarm incident.

How long have they been pretending? Since the Sanctuary? Before? How much of this was a lie?!

He didn’t have time to think. He surged forward, desperate to reach Felt.

Steel kissed his throat. A boot crushed him to the floor.

“Not so quick now, are you?” Elsa purred, blade dancing against his skin. “You’ve lost your edge, Subaru. Or maybe it’s just harder to run when mother’s already clipped your wings.”

“Mother, may I take a peek inside this one?” she asked sweetly, pressing the blade harder.

“No,” Capella said, walking over with a smirk. “He’s mine. Take your sister. I’ll leave the little spirit girl to you as a reward.”

“Yes, Mother,” Elsa replied, stepping back—but not without trailing the flat of her blade across Subaru’s chest like a promise.

Subaru locked eyes with Felt.

She looked broken—defeated. And why wouldn’t she be? He was on the ground, his sword gone, his arm severed, barely able to breathe, let alone stand. There was no saving anyone in this condition. Not even himself.

Capella strolled lazily toward Felt, her tone mock-thoughtful. “I wonder, Subaru…” She ran her clawed fingers through Felt’s tangled hair. The girl flinched, biting down a whimper. “You clearly have a thing for this one—though I can’t imagine why.”

She leaned down beside Felt, her voice turning syrupy and cruel.

“What if she wasn’t this pretty little thing anymore? What if I made her… grotesque? Would you still love her if she was just a pile of meat?” She giggled. “Or maybe a fly? A little buzzing maggot, all squishy and mindless. Would you hold her close then, Subaru?”

You’ll die before I let you touch her again.

Subaru didn’t hesitate. He reached into his gut—into that awful, pulsing knot of pain—and pulled.

Petelgeuse flickered into being beside him, eyes wide in alarm. “Subaru?! What—”

No time to explain.

Three black hands erupted from Subaru’s back, twisting violently toward Capella.

CRACK!

Her head twisted all the way around with a sound like snapping branches. Her body collapsed into a heap, twitching once—then going still.

Petelgeuse vanished, the hands with him, as Subaru sagged forward.

For a second, he thought it might be over.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up, stumbling toward his fallen blade. Grabbing it for balance, he limped over to Felt and cut the bindings from her wrists. She collapsed into his arms with a soft gasp.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he whispered.

“Y-you need to run…” she croaked, her voice faint.

“I’m not leaving you behind,” Subaru said firmly, hoisting her onto his back with what little strength he had left. He could feel her shaking, but her weight grounded him. Gave him purpose.

He staggered forward, limping toward the door.

Halfway there—

CHOMP.

Agony exploded through his leg as something clamped onto his calf. Subaru screamed, collapsing under Felt’s weight. He looked back—and his blood ran cold.

A gaping maw had opened from Capella’s back, serrated and serpentine. It chewed, then spat out a chunk of Subaru’s flesh with a wet splat.

“You do taste like rotten meat,” Capella giggled.

Her body jerked, spasming—then straightened.

Her head rotated with slow, cracking snaps, twisting back into place with unnatural ease. Her eyes opened, gleaming with sadistic delight.

“Ohhhhhh, you look so disappointed,” she purred. “You didn’t think that would kill me, did you, moron?”

Subaru trembled, pain pulsing through his leg, his breath ragged.

This was a demon wearing flesh. And she wasn’t done with him yet.

“My, you are persistent,” Capella drawled, stepping leisurely forward, her eyes glittering maliciously. “Perhaps I'll turn you into a cute little pet for Meili—or better yet, a lump of rotten meat.”

Subaru felt desperation clawing at his chest. His gaze darted frantically toward the bathhouse door, smoke already curling beneath its edges. There was no escape—only prayer.

“Beatrice… please,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Clutching his sword with his one remaining hand, Subaru forced every ounce of mana he had left into the blade, flames roaring fiercely from its edge. With a guttural cry, he unleashed a scorching torrent toward Capella. Heat and smoke flooded the room, and he struggled to keep his focus through the pain.

He reached within himself again, gripping the twisted knot of his soul, and invisible hands burst forth, wrenching the bathhouse door open. Dragging himself and Felt through, he fell forward.

The door slammed shut, and suddenly they were no longer in the manor but sprawled across the floor of the Forbidden Library.

Beatrice stood above them, her eyes filled with profound sadness. Black, reality-breaking cracks splintered outward across the walls, swallowing the library into a void. Subaru's vision blurred as he struggled to hold onto consciousness. Silently, Beatrice knelt beside him, gently placing her small hands on his mangled legs. Relief washed over him as healing magic closed his wounds, though the damage was severe. He knew he wouldn’t stand again without further treatment.

“Beatrice,” he rasped weakly, his vision swimming, “Please, take Felt and run.”

Beside him, Felt drifted in and out of consciousness, her breathing shallow.

“My time has come, Subaru,” Beatrice murmured, a sorrowful smile touching her lips. “The manor burns, and soon I’ll be gone as well, I suppose.”

She withdrew her hands, the warmth of her magic fading from his limbs.

“I won’t let Felt die here,” Subaru forced out, his voice cracking, tears streaming down his dirtied face. “Please—I beg you—help us.”

Beatrice hesitated, her small frame trembling slightly. Her eyes softened, regret shadowing her expression. “Betty wanted to be selfish, just this once. Four hundred lonely years… I hoped you might become ‘that person’ for me. But I can’t ask you now; it would be cruel, I suppose.”

“Beatrice—!” Subaru reached out weakly.

“Oh, you evaded Mother, how disappointing.”

Subaru twisted around painfully. Elsa stood at the library’s threshold, framed by roaring flames behind her, a sinister smile curling her lips as she idly twirled her bloodied blade.

“So, it’s you, then,” Beatrice whispered, her voice full of quiet resignation. “You’re not the one I would have chosen, I suppose.”

Elsa tilted her head slightly, eyes glittering dangerously. “Mother will be most displeased, though I’m sure she’ll be delighted once I present these two.”

“You might have become ‘that person’ for me, but never for them,” Beatrice declared firmly. Raising her hand, magic surged through her fingertips. Before Subaru could protest, the floor beneath him vanished, and he and Felt plunged downward.

Above them, Elsa lunged forward, blade gleaming as it pierced through Beatrice’s small frame. The librarian’s eyes met Subaru’s as she fell, blood blooming across her gown.

“Beatrice!” Subaru screamed, heart shattering as darkness swallowed them.

Vertigo gripped him until the ground struck hard, bitter coldness flooding over him. Groaning, he struggled to sit, cradling Felt protectively. Frigid snow blanketed the unfamiliar landscape.

“W-Where are we?” he whispered hoarsely.

Felt shivered violently in his arms, her skin burning hot. She was feverish, barely clinging to consciousness. Subaru’s chest tightened; he needed to find shelter, quickly.

A gentle nudge at his leg startled him. Glancing downward, he saw a small white rabbit, its red eyes shining curiously. Confused, Subaru stared at the creature.

“What…?”

Before the thought fully formed, sharp agony tore through his calf as the rabbit sank needle-like teeth into his flesh. Crying out in pain, Subaru kicked it away, blood pouring freely.

His heart froze as the rabbit split apart, multiplying rapidly. Dozens—then hundreds—emerged from the shadows, encircling him hungrily.

“No…” he gasped, panic rising in his chest. Felt groaned faintly, struggling weakly in his arms.

A chorus of shrill squeaks rose around them. Subaru reached desperately for his mana, clawed internally for that knot of power—but nothing remained. Drained, helpless, he could only shield Felt with his trembling body, pulling her tightly against him.

The rabbits surged forward, an unstoppable wave of fur, fangs, and hunger. Subaru screamed in raw agony as they tore mercilessly into his flesh, ripping and biting relentlessly. Pain eclipsed all thought, his cries silenced by teeth tearing into his tongue.

But true despair came when Felt began to scream. Her anguished cries ripped through him, worse than any physical agony.

Subaru struggled, thrashing weakly even as his strength failed. His vision blurred, darkness claiming him, but Felt’s tormented cries echoed in his mind until the very end.

Chapter 30: ARC 3 - Chapter 10: The Second Trial

ARC III

---

Chapter X:

The Second Trial

---

“Are you okay?”

Subaru stared blankly at the worn floorboards of Ryuzu’s house, the small teacup trembling in his hands. A ringing filled his ears—Felt's desperate, agonizing screams echoed relentlessly through his mind, mocking his helplessness.

The porcelain teacup slipped from his fingers, shattering loudly against the floor, hot tea splattering around him. He felt nothing from the burns, only a numbing, empty despair.

“Young Su, what is the matter?” Ryuzu approached gently, placing a comforting hand on his head.

Before Subaru could respond, the door burst open. Flam and Grassis stumbled inside, faces pale and panicked.

“Lady Felt is missing!” Flam cried breathlessly.

A cold dread rushed through Subaru, quickly replaced by a scorching wave of rage. He stood abruptly, pushing past Ryuzu and the twins without a word, his heart pounding violently. His vision narrowed, focused solely on one grim purpose.

Sword unsheathed and crackling with mana, Subaru surged forward through the darkened forest, his thoughts consumed by one singular desire.

I'm going to kill him.

He didn’t pause, didn't hesitate. Arriving at Roswaal’s cabin, he swung his blade, unleashing a cataclysmic surge of wind and fire. The force obliterated the structure, scattering debris and igniting the night in an explosive fury. Distant shouts of alarm echoed through the Sanctuary, but Subaru paid them no mind.

Roswaal, predictably unharmed, emerged from the smoke, smirking arrogantly. He summoned a towering pillar of earth, an attempt to shield himself. Subaru felt the familiar knot in his gut twist as he reached deeper, drawing upon Petelgeuse’s Witch Factor.

The Sin Archbishop appeared beside him, confusion briefly flickering across his face, but Subaru paid him no heed. Using the writhing, oily black hands, he effortlessly smashed through Roswaal’s defenses, shattering the earth wall.

Roswaal retaliated swiftly, launching fiery bolts at Subaru. Agile and driven by fury, Subaru dodged, using the unseen hands to maneuver around the blasts. Without pause, he countered, hurling arcs of lightning toward the mage. Roswaal soared upward, narrowly evading Subaru’s attack and rushing forward to strike.

Subaru reacted instinctively. One of the unseen hands snatched Roswaal’s ankle mid-flight, violently slamming him into the ground with bone-cracking force. Roswaal groaned, momentarily stunned.

With unrelenting resolve, Subaru unleashed a relentless torrent of flame, bathing the area where Roswaal had fallen in scorching fire. His fury and sorrow poured into the inferno, every anguished memory fueling the blaze.

Roswaal didn’t take it lying down. A torrent of water surged forth, clashing violently with Subaru’s flames, instantly engulfing the area in thick, suffocating steam. Subaru’s unseen hand gripping Roswaal’s leg severed abruptly, snapping back into his spine with painful recoil.

“I see,” Roswaal’s voice echoed coldly through the dense fog. “Something truly horrible must have occurred. Tell me, Subaru, what fresh tragedy has shattered your fragile resolve this time?”

“You damn well know, you bastard!” Subaru roared, swinging his sword wildly, casting arcs of fire through the mist, eyes desperately scanning the obscured surroundings. “Capella! You handed Felt over to that monster?! I swear I’ll kill you!”

“Capella? Fascinating,” Roswaal mused, voice floating ominously from every direction. “My intent was merely for Elsa the Bowel Hunter to intervene. Capella’s involvement suggests an unexpected shift—though the result remains the same. You cannot win, Subaru.”

Subaru spun instinctively, but too late—a heavy blow slammed into his ribs, shattering bone and hurling him through the air. Twisting frantically mid-flight, Subaru shot bolts of lightning toward Roswaal’s shadowy outline, missing narrowly and scorching the smoldering remnants of the cabin instead.

Crashing painfully to the ground, Subaru staggered upright, grimacing through waves of searing pain. Roswaal hovered confidently, untouched, surrounded by swirling vapor.

“You can’t defeat me,” Roswaal taunted calmly, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Even weakened, I surpass you utterly. Besides, Ram approaches rapidly. You will die by her hand if not mine.”

Subaru ground his teeth and lunged forward, swinging furiously, only for Roswaal’s hand to snatch his wrist with frightening ease. Roswaal leaned in close, his gaze coldly triumphant.

“You still don’t grasp it, do you?” Roswaal whispered venomously. Subaru screamed as the mage effortlessly snapped his arm, twisting it grotesquely. Subaru collapsed backward, staring in shock at the mangled limb. “You can only save your precious Felt by making a contract with Echidna. Accept it. Your struggles are pointless.”

Fueled by raw desperation, Subaru surged forward, tackling Roswaal to the earth, pinning him fiercely. But Roswaal only smiled, infuriatingly calm even as Subaru raised his good fist.

“Go ahead,” Roswaal encouraged softly. “This life is already finished. We both know what lengths we’ll go for the woman we love, don’t we?”

Subaru roared, pounding Roswaal’s face mercilessly, each blow fueled by hatred and agony. Roswaal’s expression never changed; his cold smile persisted, mocking Subaru’s rage.

“ Fura !”

A wind blade sliced brutally through Subaru’s remaining functional arm. His severed limb dropped uselessly to the ground. Subaru barely registered Ram sprinting forward, loyal as ever. He wouldn’t stop now.

In blind fury, Subaru lunged downward, sinking his teeth deep into Roswaal’s throat. Blood filled Subaru’s mouth as he tore savagely, pulling away flesh. Roswaal’s blood gushed forth, choking the mage as Subaru fell back from Ram’s devastating kick. His jaw shattered, agony consuming him.

“Subaru, stop!” Petelgeuse pleaded urgently.

But Subaru’s unseen hands no longer obeyed their former master—only Subaru controlled them now. He surged upward, swatting Ram aside violently. Roswaal hung suspended, choking on his blood, yet his smile remained maddeningly fixed. With savage determination, Subaru twisted the unseen hands mercilessly.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Roswaal’s body crumpled lifelessly, collapsing into a grotesque heap. Even in death, his mocking smile persisted—a cruel reminder of Subaru’s hollow victory. He had achieved nothing.

Subaru made no effort to defend himself as Ram’s wind blade pierced him from behind, cutting him down. Darkness consumed him, the bitter taste of failure burning deep in his soul.

---

Subaru stood silently outside the Tomb of the Witch of Greed, gazing up at the worn stone steps leading to the next trial. His heart pounded fiercely, anxiety coiling tightly in his chest. Felt was captured by a monster, Frederica and Petra were likely already dead, or perhaps suffering fates even worse. Subaru saw no way forward. Fighting Capella, Meili, and Elsa again meant certain death, even with Flam and Grassis at his side. Roswaal would ensure neither Rem nor Ram intervened, and Garfiel couldn’t leave Sanctuary.

He clenched his fists, anger and despair twisting together. He was cornered, trapped exactly where Roswaal wanted him. Yet, Felt’s screams still echoed relentlessly in his mind. If freedom meant watching everyone he cared about suffer, what was the point? He had no escape in death, no release. Satella's curse made sure of that.

“Where do ya think you’re goin’?”

Subaru turned to find Garfiel at the foot of the tomb, arms crossed and glaring suspiciously.

“I don’t have time for you, Garfiel,” Subaru muttered, climbing another step.

“Yer friend goes missin’ an’ ya go runnin’ here of all places?” Garfiel growled, stepping forward aggressively. “I saw ya take that trial before. Spill it—did ya two plan this or somethin’?”

“No,” Subaru snapped. “Felt’s back at the manor, transported by a magic door. She, along with your sister, is in grave danger, and I’m the only one who can do anything about it.”

“My sis is in danger?” Garfiel's expression faltered, worry seeping into his voice. “What the hell d’you know?! Spill it!” He lunged up the steps, grabbing Subaru roughly by the wrist.

Without hesitation, Subaru spun around and punched Garfiel hard, the impact sending him tumbling down the stairs. Garfiel hit the ground hard, looking up in shock as blood trickled from his lip.

“Don’t get aggressive with me,” Subaru warned, his voice cold and dangerous. “My only goal right now is to save my sister. Anything-or anyone—that stands in my way, I’ll bury.”

Garfiel wiped blood from his mouth, eyes narrowing as he pushed himself to his feet. “Ya got guts talkin’ like that.”

Subaru met his gaze unflinchingly. “Capella, the Sin Archbishop of Lust, is going to attack—if she hasn’t already. She’ll slaughter everyone at the manor, including my sister.”

Garfiel shook his head sharply. “Bullshit! How the hell could ya know somethin’ like that?!”

Because I can Return by Death. The words hung silently in Subaru’s mind.

“Because,” Subaru said grimly, tapping the side of his head, “I’ve had the Sin Archbishop of Sloth trapped inside my mind since I killed him in Arlam.”

Garfiel froze, his mouth slightly open, disbelief written on his face. Subaru couldn’t blame him—no sane person would willingly admit to something like that. But Subaru was far beyond worrying about appearing sane.

“You…yer tellin’ me ya got an Archbishop inside yer head?” Garfiel stammered.

“Believe me or don’t,” Subaru shrugged bitterly, “but he’s far less insane without his Witch Factor. Either way, your sister's only chance of surviving lies with me. Good or bad methods, it doesn’t matter. You and I are both trapped in hell, Garfiel—you just don’t see it yet.”

Garfiel stared back, torn between fury and confusion. Subaru felt a strange, cold calm enveloping him. Nothing mattered anymore except saving Felt. Anything, no matter how brutal or extreme, was preferable to hearing those screams again. He’d gladly die a thousand times over rather than let her endure that torment again.

“You’re lyin’,” Garfiel finally said, though the conviction in his voice wavered.

“Why would I lie now?” Subaru stepped closer, eyes blazing with intensity. Garfiel instinctively took a half step back, clearly startled. “Ryuzu told me about you. She told me you’ve taken the trial, that you’re split between two minds—one desperate to break free from this place, the other too afraid to step outside.”

Garfiel visibly stiffened, his jaw tightening, eyes shadowed by complicated emotions.

“You’re running outta time,” Subaru continued relentlessly. “Make your choice, Garfiel. Stand aside and let me do what I must—or be ready to fight me here and now.”

Garfiel hesitated, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Subaru watched him carefully, recognizing the fierce internal battle playing out behind those tense, narrowed eyes. But ultimately, Garfiel’s inner turmoil didn't matter—Subaru would ascend those steps regardless, whether in this lifetime or the next.

“You’ve got some balls,” Garfiel growled through gritted teeth, muscles tensed and trembling. “Damn it all! Fine, go on an’ take your stupid trial. But once you’re done, we’re havin’ a long chat about this Sin Archbishop rattlin’ around in your head, ya hear?”

Subaru allowed himself a momentary release of tension, exhaling slowly as he turned toward the tomb. Garfiel’s attachment to his sister was evident and strong—something Subaru could leverage if needed, but right now, he simply had to move forward.

“We’ll have plenty to talk about when it’s done,” Subaru murmured, stepping firmly onto the worn stone steps that led to the tomb’s entrance.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the tomb’s stones glowed faintly with an eerie blue luminescence. A shiver crawled down Subaru’s spine as his skin prickled uneasily. It was strange—his first willing step into this cursed place. Though "willing" wasn't entirely accurate. Without Felt's safety hanging precariously in the balance, he would never have come.

Inside, he found himself in a square chamber, the same room where Emilia had lain, muttering in restless distress. Across from him stood a door, slightly ajar and inviting. He moved forward, pushing the heavy stone slab further open. Beyond stretched a hallway leading to another identical chamber, and another door set just like the first.

“Three trials, three doors,” Subaru whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the silence.

He stepped cautiously into the second room. Almost immediately, Subaru felt his consciousness grow thin, a familiar yet otherworldly voice whispering gently into the depths of his mind.

“Behold, an unthinkable present.”

His vision blurred, knees buckling beneath him as he collapsed onto the cold stone floor. Darkness swept him away.

---

Elsa gazed down at the young man whose entrails she now admired. Four easy kills—and at last, the silver-haired girl had been dealt with. Still, despite the exhilarating sight of their beautiful insides, Elsa couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

They hadn’t provided much of a challenge. The young man had offered a brief distraction, true, but he had been little more than entertainment. She would have delighted in a longer, more intricate dance with the half-elf, but it wasn't meant to be.

Now, all that remained was to collect her bounty and await the next contract. Perhaps her mother would have something intriguing for her. Lust always gave Elsa tasks that excited her senses.

“You… you killed her…”

The deep, trembling voice behind her made Elsa pause. She turned slowly, brows furrowing, just in time to witness a sudden blast of freezing air. The figure behind her grew rapidly, violently shattering the house around them.

Elsa leaped backward, her breath sharply drawn, eyes widening with a mixture of thrill and apprehension. Above her towered an immense, monstrous form, staring down with cold fury.

“Sleep forever.”

Then… death.

---

Subaru woke, gasping for air, his mind racing. He’d just seen his first death. Seen the bodies of Felt, Rom, Emilia, and himself.

“Behold, an unthinkable present.”

Again, darkness.

---

Rem stared down coldly at the cultist’s shattered face, the morning star still embedded deeply in his skull. Her glare was unyielding, filled with simmering hatred.

For days, he had deceived them, masquerading as a humble smith from the city, eager to learn magic from Master Roswaal. But Rem had sensed the truth immediately. His stench—the foul taint of the Witch—had clung to him from the very beginning. Despite Master Roswaal’s assurances that it was nothing to worry about, Rem had remained vigilant.

Now her sister, Ram—the very reason Rem still drew breath—was dead because of him. Killing this man and his brutish companion offered only fleeting relief; the pain and emptiness left by Ram's loss persisted, clinging to her relentlessly. Releasing her grip on the morning star's handle, Rem silently retreated toward the mansion.

Master Roswaal would soon return to find a damaged home and a dead servant. Rem couldn’t help but wonder why the cultist hadn’t targeted Emilia. The half-elf bore the unmistakable resemblance to the Witch, a likeness Rem had previously overlooked out of loyalty to her master. But now, with bitterness and grief consuming her, she wished it were Emilia who lay lifeless and Ram who still breathed. It was selfish, cruel even, but Rem didn’t care.

Ascending the stairs, Rem reached her sister’s room just as Emilia stirred awake. Emilia's eyes widened in alarm upon seeing Rem standing bloodied and bruised.

“Rem! What happened?!” Emilia cried, sitting up abruptly.

Rem clenched her fists tightly, the blood of both victim and attacker mingling on her trembling hands. “I... I killed him,” she hissed, her voice taut with fury and anguish. “I killed that Witch-worshipping monster!”

---

Subaru shook his head as he tried to rise. A horrible thought came to him.

Will I see every death I’ve had?

“Behold, an unthinkable present.”

---

“Ahhh, so it’s you, Reinhard.” The low growl of Puck shook the snow-covered ground.

Despite the cold, the Sword Saint stood calmly, his hand resting on Reid. Puck didn’t care. Either he would kill Reinhard and destroy this world as he promised, or his rage would come to an end. It made little difference now that Emilia was gone.

“Emilia is gone then, I take it?” Reinhard asked calmly.

“Lia is asleep forever,” Puck said somberly. “I don’t wish to live in a world without her.”

“So you will destroy it,” Reinhard frowned. “I must ask. What became of Subaru?”

“I take it the Felt girl is concerned?” Puck mused. “I will not give you false hope. He is dead. Along with the others. I have no words of comfort to offer. He died at my hand, same as every soul will.”

“I see.” Reinhard reached down and, with one swift motion, pulled Reid free from its sheath. “Felt will grieve, but I am sure she will endure. As for you, I shall put an end to this rampage. I ask that if you resent anyone, let it be me.”

“I don’t resent anyone,” Puck said matter-of-factly. “You are a true hero; that is all you can ever be, after all.”

Puck opened his mouth to ready an attack, but Reid glowed, and then, all Puck knew was a flash of white mana, and then… death.

---

“This… no… please, I need a moment…” Subaru gasped.

“Behold, an unthinkable present.”

---

Reinhard looked down at the corpse of Natsuki Subaru. He clenched his fist as he inspected the body. The guards had heard a smacking sound, but they had been too slow to stop him. Subaru had hit his head so hard against the stone floor that he’d split his skull open.

He was dead before a healer could reach him.

Reinhard felt bitter, more bitter than he could ever recall being.

Less than a week after the Royal Selection, two of the candidates were dead. He had returned to the capital upon the urgent summoning of the Council at the news of Felt’s murder by Subaru. Then, he had been forced to kill Puck, who had covered half the kingdom in ice and snow.

Thousands were dead, and thousands more might die from failed crops. Still, he had been required to interrogate Subaru personally. Why had the man, who saw Felt as a sister, murdered both her and Rom? It made no sense.

The only logical conclusion was that the Court Mage, Roswaal, was responsible. Reinhard knew Subaru was bound to him by contract and could have been commanded to do anything.

Still, it was difficult to believe Roswaal, a prominent figure in the kingdom, would have Felt killed, only to lose his candidate to the Witch’s Cult. The pieces didn't align, yet if Reinhard wanted answers, he would have to confront the mage himself.

Felt… I am sorry.

“What should we do with the body?” Julius asked.

Reinhard had forgotten he was there. But this had become the knights' concern now. He would leave it to them while investigating the mage personally.

“I don’t care,” Reinhard said coldly. “Burn it. Scatter his ashes in the slums. It was the closest to a home he ever knew.”

---

“Stop… I need—” Subaru gagged, choking on his own words.

“Behold, an unthinkable present.”

---

“That’s it!” Petelgeuse cackled, his eyes wide and crazed. “More slothful! Your death is wonderfully slothful!”

He turned sharply, gazing down at the corpse—one just like her lay motionless in the courtyard. She had provided some amusement, but now only his holy purpose remained. Capture the half-elf and make her a vessel for resurrection.

“Oh, how I will be loved!” Petelgeuse exulted, his body contorting backward grotesquely in manic delight. “To be loved, loved, loved, loved! My brain… trembles!”

Snapping upright again, his grin twisted horribly as he swept out of the room, making his way swiftly toward the mage’s study. There he would find her, and then he would use her… all for his beloved. Love, love, love!

---

“Stop! Please! No… he… he—” Subaru felt his stomach lurch violently. “I still have… so many…”

“Behold, an unthinkable present.”

---

“My forge…” Conrad murmured in disbelief, staring numbly at the smoldering ruins that had once been his thriving workshop.

Awoken abruptly in the dead of night, he'd been dragged to the wreckage of his establishment. The devastation spread across half the block, with his forge at its epicenter. Furious artisans milled around, casting suspicious and accusatory glances his way. He ignored their resentment, consumed by the realization that his life's work had vanished into smoke and ash.

Stepping cautiously through the charred remnants, Conrad paused abruptly. A scorched, smoldering skull lay eerily on the ground, staring blankly up at him.

---

“I… I had to… It’s not real; it can't be,” Subaru whispered frantically to himself, shivering uncontrollably.

“Behold, an unthinkable present.”

---

Ram raced desperately through the mansion halls, heart pounding wildly in her chest. Behind her, a deranged woman laughed hysterically, wielding dark magic and effortlessly suspending Emilia in midair. Subaru had already fallen victim to the crazed cultists. He'd arrived shrouded in bandages, his sanity completely unravelling, but he'd fought hard before falling.

All Ram could do now was pray for Master Roswaal’s swift return—her last fragile hope of salvation.

“Behold—”

---

“Oh, Pride, how far you have fallen!” the old man mocked gleefully.

The boy had proven formidable, slaying nearly all of his unseen hands. But the arrogant fool had exhausted his mana before delivering the final blow. Losing his original body was insignificant now. Soon, the Witch would return, and he would once again find meaning—

“Behold—”

---

“Subaru? What's wrong?” Rem backed away fearfully as the young man approached, a twisted, unnatural grin splitting his face.

“Oh? Forgive my rudeness,” Subaru murmured politely, his head tilting grotesquely at an impossible angle. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti, Sin Archbishop of Sloth. Now, tell me… where is she? The one I long for.”

“Behold—”

---

Felt trembled, her entire body wracked with grief. Before her lay Subaru’s lifeless form—bloodied, broken, and almost unrecognizable. Otto had told her he’d gone mad, that he’d attacked Garfiel and the two had fought. She had assumed it was nothing more than another clash like their first encounter with the belligerent, razor-toothed brute.

But now… now Subaru was dead.

And Ram was gone too.

Garfiel’s body lay just a few feet away, Subaru’s sword buried in his chest, his eyes staring lifelessly into the sky.

Felt knelt beside Subaru, clutching his body as tears streamed down her face. His eyes, once so full of reckless defiance, now stared forward in eternal stillness.

“You idiot!” Felt screamed. “You… you can’t. You can’t leave me!”

“Behold—”

---

All that was left… was bone… snow… and an echoing scream.

“Behold—”

---

“Master Roswaal!” Ram screamed, racing past the cooling corpse of that bastard Subaru.

She fell to her knees beside Roswaal’s mangled body, pouring healing magic into his wounds with trembling hands. She’d gone to investigate the commotion surrounding Felt’s disappearance, and now—

Now…

“You can’t die!” Ram cried. “I never got to…”

“Ram?”

The voice behind her was quiet, numb. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Rem standing frozen, staring down at Subaru’s body. Her expression was hollow, eyes glazed with disbelief.

Ram shook her head and turned back to her master—but it was too late. He was already…

“Behold—”

---

“Enough!!!” Subaru screamed, clutching his head, pressing his hands tightly over his ears.

He’d already vomited. The endless parade of deaths—his own and those of the people he loved—was too much. So many lives. So many terrible lives.

Was it real? Had all of it truly happened? How many times had he led those he cared about to death? How many times had Felt and Rom buried him? How many times had he failed?

“I’m surprised you lasted so long.”

Subaru blinked. The tomb was gone. He now lay on soft grass, looking out over a wide expanse of rolling plains. A strange peace settled over him, the panic in his chest slowly lifting.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, glancing around in confusion as fragmented memories of this place flickered in his mind.

“I feel… strangely calm,” Subaru murmured. “Was that your doing?”

“Hard to have a proper tea party with you shouting and causing such a fuss,” Echidna replied with a nonchalant shrug.

“I watched… the outcome of every death,” Subaru said, his voice tight, still trembling from the weight of what he had seen.

“You are… aware of my ability then?”

“I am keenly aware,” Echidna confirmed, a knowing smile on her lips.

Subaru climbed the small hill to where she sat, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. He met her gaze, resolute yet wary. It was clear to him that Echidna was dangerous—but the truth remained: if he wanted to save Felt, he might need her help.

“If I tell you… you might die,” Subaru warned.

Echidna giggled. “Will I now? There’s only one way to be sure, you know.”

Subaru hesitated. If she was the key to escaping this nightmare, killing her—even by accident—would only cause more problems. He’d have to endure the trial all over again, and he didn’t think he had the strength to face those deaths a third time.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Subaru said firmly.

“What is life… or unlife, in my case, without a little risk?” Echidna leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Go on.”

He clenched his fists. “Alright,” he said, drawing in a shaky breath. He stared into her eyes. If this killed her, he would force himself to watch.

“I… I…”

Get it out.

“I can Return by Death!” he blurted out.

Echidna’s expression didn’t change. She was still smiling, still breathing, still watching him.

“Was something supposed to happen?” she asked with a teasing grin.

Subaru blinked. “I can Return by Death…” he whispered.

Then louder: “I can Return by Death. I can return by death, I can return by death, I can return by death!”

The words spilled from him like a dam breaking. He gasped for air, every sentence a liberation.

“I’ve… I’ve died… over and over and over!” he cried. “I’ve been living in hell. I’ve seen everyone I love die. I’ve been… I’ve been so alone!”

He was sobbing now, trembling under the weight of it all.

“Felt, Rom, Emilia, Rem, Otto, Petra—everyone. I’ve seen them all die,” he said through tears. “So many lives… so many worlds might be out there with them all dead. Some of them because I was too weak. And even now… Felt is trapped, at the mercy of that… that monster!”

Echidna rose from her seat and walked over, pulling Subaru into a strangely warm embrace. He clung to her, sobbing like a child. Whether it was real or not didn’t matter—he just let her stroke his hair and soothe him.

“I… I don’t wanna go mad,” Subaru choked. “I… I’ve been so callous toward dying. I find myself thinking… sometimes it would be easier to just reset… to go back. I don’t want to lose myself.”

“It’s hard,” Echidna said gently. “Going through all of that alone… it would break anyone. But you don’t have to be alone, Subaru.”

Subaru sucked in a deep breath and slowly pulled away, wiping his eyes. He felt raw, unsteady, but he forced himself to calm down.

“Roswaal wants me to form a contract with you,” Subaru said, his voice hoarse.

“I know,” Echidna replied, her face unreadable. “You don’t want to. Not only because you’re wary of contracts after what he did, but also because it’s what he wants.”

Subaru nodded. “I have to hear you out, though. It’s part of our agreement.”

“Don’t you toy with his emotions!”

Before Subaru could react, a gust of wind exploded around him, and a fist collided with his face. Oddly, it didn’t hurt.

Blinking through the dust, he saw a blonde girl with sparkling blue eyes and a long, messy ponytail glaring at him. She wore a flowing white and purple dress with blue and pink accessories—strikingly beautiful and, in all the right places, bountiful.

“Um… who are you?” Subaru asked, startled, as the girl began stomping the ground in frustration.

“I’m… I’m just so filled with rage!” she huffed, fists clenched. “To hear such tragedy, and to know she’s manipulating your emotions—it’s unforgivable! I’m outraged!”

“Minerva, you’re overreacting,” Echidna said with a sigh.

“Minerva? You don’t mean… the Witch of Wrath?!” Subaru took a nervous step back.

“She’s quite harmless, I assure you,” Echidna said with a smirk. “She can only heal. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t harm a fly.”

“I’ll find a way to bash your skull in if this continues!” Minerva shouted. “She’s just going to use you! Everything that Witch says is poison!”

“Wait—how are there two witches here?!” Subaru asked, utterly bewildered.

“There are more than two,” said a lazy voice behind him.

Turning, Subaru saw an older woman lying on the ground with deep magenta hair covering half her face. Her eyes, the same color as her hair, blinked slowly as she relaxed in a suggestive black dress, seemingly on the verge of a nap.

“Who is…”

“Sekhmet,” Echidna answered quickly, her tone flat. “Am I to take it that my private tea party is now an open invitation?”

“Speaking is more annoying than breathing,” Sekhmet sighed, barely moving.

“That would be a yes! ” chirped a peppy voice.

A small girl with green hair skipped forward, her crimson eyes gleaming as she looked Subaru over. She wore a white dress decorated with blue flowers.

“Oh, you’re an interesting one. I wonder… are you a good person or a bad person?”

“I… I think I’m a good person?” Subaru replied cautiously.

“Um… I don’t… don’t think I would let her touch you,” said a quiet voice behind him.

Spinning around, Subaru saw a mousy, pink-haired girl peeking at him, then glancing away, her gaze flickering nervously. She wore a baggy white dress with pink ribbons and a long mint-colored scarf that dragged along the ground. She rocked on her heels shyly, though something about her was… unsettling. Alluring, even. Subaru had to look away.

“Carmilla, he’ll be fine, so long as he’s not horrible!” the child-like witch said with a wide grin. “I must know for certain!”

“Typhon, it’s bad enough I have to deal with Echidna,” Minerva scolded, glaring at the grinning girl. “I’d rather not need to punch him back together again!”

“Minerva, you know I must judge between good and evil. It is the way of things,” the Witch of Pride pouted.

“I just want to have a little taste of him.”

Subaru spun around just in time to see a strange black casket with spider-like legs crawling rapidly toward him. The large metal doors sprang open, revealing a grey-haired girl chained and blindfolded inside. Drool trailed from her mouth, and Subaru instinctively recoiled. A terrible hunger gripped him, as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Daphne,” Echidna sighed, “I would rather you not make poor Subaru contemplate self-cannibalism. Would you mind stepping back a bit?”

“Oh? What’s wrong with that?” Daphne’s voice was chipper and dreamy. “Food is food, no matter where it comes from. I’ve eaten a whole field of grass, leaves, and even a bit of dirt one time. Though it’s not nearly as tasty as meat. Raw meat is okay, but a nice fire-roasted rack of ribs—doesn’t matter where it comes from—tastes so good. Don’t you agree?”

She giggled. “It’s a shame if someone doesn’t sample all the flavors of the world. Even their own! I, too, have tasted my flesh. Though I’d rather not eat it all… unless necessary.”

Subaru’s stomach growled, his mouth going dry. The longer she spoke, the more his hunger grew. He thought of grass, then meat, then his flesh… and even that of the witches around him.

“Daphne,” Echidna said, her voice sharp with warning.

“Sorry,” Daphne giggled again as her casket crawled backward, the hunger lifting as quickly as it had come. “I forget sometimes how others share in my hunger. That’s why everyone should eat and be full. I want everyone to be satisfied—including myself!”

Subaru shuddered and looked around. “I hope that’s everyone.”

“Oh, Tella might show up,” Typhon said casually.

Minerva shook her head. “Satella isn’t important right now,” she said, pointing at Echidna with a scowl. “What’s important is that making a deal— any deal—with her would! Be! Bad! For! You!” She stomped hard, shaking the earth beneath them. “It pisses me off to see her manipulate people!”

“I’m not exactly here willingly,” Subaru sighed. “I’ve died over a hundred times to get this far. I’ve seen what Capella and the others can do. Even if I went in with help, I’d be shocked if I could win. My best bet would be finding Reinhard, but my sister might be dead by the time I make it back.”

“Even still,” Minerva said with a frown, “If you make a deal with her, it would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

“What exactly are the terms of your deal?” Subaru shot a look at Echidna, who was smirking.

“If I were to make you an offer, it would be a stretch to call it a bad thing,” Echidna said sweetly. “I would help you, make sure your path was clear. In return, I would get everything—everything you feel, everything you see, everything you think. Every feeling in your heart, every ounce of knowledge you uncover. I want it all. The unknown fruit you pluck—I want a taste of it.”

Subaru frowned. “There’s no way it’s as simple as you just tagging along and sharing my experiences.”

“S-She’s not lying,” Carmilla chimed in. “B-But she’s not t-telling you everything.”

“I would guide you to a future you desire in the end, of course,” Echidna giggled.

“The words ‘in the end’ being key here,” Sekhmet muttered. “Too tired to elaborate. I’m just here to make sure things are fair.”

Subaru clenched his fist. “I… am trapped. You must know that.”

“Are you?” Echidna smirked. “Trapped as you are, you’re too prideful to accept my contract. Out of spite for Roswaal, and maybe just a touch of distrust for me. Am I wrong?”

He said nothing, but she was right. He would rather suffer a thousand deaths than let Roswaal win—but hearing Felt scream one more time seemed like a far worse hell.

“If it’s something as shallow as pride,” Minerva interjected, ignoring Typhon’s huff, “then it would be a good thing for you to reject this deal.”

“That is, if I were offering a contract.” Echidna giggled.

Subaru blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t mistake me, Subaru,” Echidna said smoothly. “If I believed you would take up a contract with me, I’d offer it. Should you ask, I’d gladly bind myself to you. But…” She leaned forward, “We both know your hatred for Roswaal blinds you. Why waste my time? I am greedy—but I’m not stupid, you know?”

Minerva blinked in confusion, and the other witches looked equally surprised. Subaru, too, was stunned. Roswaal’s entire plan hinged on this contract. Echidna herself had been building toward this moment. So why had she abandoned it?

“This isn’t some reverse psychology trick, right?” Subaru narrowed his eyes.

“If a trick that simple worked on you, I’d have you wrapped around my finger like Roswaal,” Echidna giggled. “You’ll understand in due time.”

“What did you do?” Minerva frowned. “You have your reasons. Don’t tell me you’re giving up on contracting him. I know you too well.”

“Of course not,” Echidna said with a sly smirk, tilting her head just enough to seem disarmingly casual. “I’m simply confident that, in the end, Subaru will come to me of his own volition. Willingly. Eagerly, even. But for now… I already have everything I need.”

Subaru’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, arms crossing over his chest.

Echidna didn’t answer. She just smiled—tight-lipped, cryptic, and impossibly smug. The silence grated on Subaru like sandpaper against skin. His fists clenched unconsciously, the itch to shake something-or—someone rising in his gut.

Minerva looked more disturbed than he did, her lip curling in frustration. As the Witch of Wrath, restraint wasn’t exactly her strongest trait.

“Fine,” Subaru exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “If you’re not going to offer the contract, great. That’s one less thing I have to worry about when it comes to Roswaal. I’ll just finish the third trial on my own and save Felt. However, I can.”

“I’m sure that’ll work out,” Echidna said, her smirk widening. “Though I must admit, I’ve decided you’re no longer qualified to take the trial.”

Subaru froze. “…What?”

“I no longer deem you worthy,” Echidna said, brushing invisible dust from her dress as if the conversation bored her. “You’ve served your purpose. You’ll find the burden passed on soon enough.”

His blood turned to ice. “So that’s it? You won’t help me, and now you’re barring me from the one way I had left? Is this your way of forcing me into Roswaal’s hands?”

Echidna waved her hand dismissively. “Please, give me some credit. I’m not so shortsighted. Roswaal’s obsession with my resurrection makes him useful, yes, but predictable—far too predictable. He sees only one path forward, and it bores me. No, Subaru. My intentions lie elsewhere.”

Subaru gritted his teeth. “Then who’s going to complete the trial?”

Echidna’s smile soured. “As much as it pains me to admit, your little half-elf companion will have to find the strength within herself. Whether or not she succeeds… well, that’s her problem now.”

Subaru’s mind spun. None of it made sense. She was cutting him off, yet not steering him back to Roswaal? If this wasn’t manipulation, what the hell was it? There was something he wasn’t seeing—something Echidna was keeping close to the vest.

Before he could press further, the skies above darkened abruptly. Clouds rolled in like an invading army, casting long shadows across the once-idyllic field. A sudden chill clawed up Subaru’s spine, and a crushing weight settled on his chest. His breath caught in his throat.

“Oh dear,” Echidna muttered, her composure cracking ever so slightly. “I had hoped she wouldn’t show up.”

“N-Not good!” Carmilla whimpered, backing up as her voice trembled.

Sekhmet sighed heavily. “Of course she’d come. She always does. If only I could sleep through this part…”

“‘Tella!” Typhon called out cheerfully, waving with both hands like she was greeting an old friend. “Good to see you!”

Subaru turned slowly, as if his body were moving through molasses.

There, walking toward them with an eerie grace, was a figure shrouded in darkness.

His heart skipped a beat. His legs threatened to give out. All breath fled his lungs.

She was here.

Satella.

The Witch of Envy.

Chapter 31: ARC 3 - Chapter 11: The Witch

ARC III

---

Chapter XI:

The Witch

---

Subaru took a half step back as the Witch of Envy approached. She had always been a distant force in his mind—something unknowable, intangible, a cruel hand reaching through the veil of reality to toy with his life. A nightmare. A shadow. Not someone he would ever see—and certainly not someone he wanted to.

Yet here she was.

Shrouded in black, her face hidden beneath a hood, the air around her writhed with miasma like a living fog. Subaru’s stomach twisted with dread, his throat tightened with anxiety—and, worst of all, something else stirred in his chest.

A flutter.

A longing.

It was as if every fiber of his being cried out for her, urged him forward, begged for her embrace. Subaru’s heels dug into the earth, that was the only thing keeping him from running into her arms. These feelings weren’t his—they couldn’t be his. They were being forced on him. They had to be.

He wanted to scream at her. To ask her why. To curse her for tearing him from his old world, for denying him even the mercy of death, for making a mockery of his suffering. But standing there, staring into the abyss of her presence, all that hate evaporated. He couldn’t reach it.

“Satella,” Echidna said bitterly, not even trying to hide her scowl. “I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I won’t lie.”

“Subaru…” the Witch of Envy murmured. Her voice was soft, reverent, like a prayer. “Subaru. Subaru. Subaru. Subaru…”

His heart pounded harder with every repetition of his name. He tried to avert his gaze, but he couldn’t. Her approach was slow, inexorable, and the other witches remained still. Even Echidna didn’t move. Not a word. Not a protest. Nothing.

When Satella reached him, she leaned in close—too close—and her breath tickled his ear like a cold breeze before a storm. Subaru trembled.

“I love you.”

The words sent a violent shudder through his body. Subaru recoiled, stumbling back as he shoved her away.

“Don’t touch me!” he gasped, clutching his chest as if the impact had been physical.

The expression in her eyes—hurt, soft, full of sorrow—stabbed at his heart. For a split second, he hated himself more than he hated Roswaal. But no. He had to ground himself. These weren’t his emotions. They couldn’t be. It was the miasma. The Witch’s madness infecting him. He couldn’t love her. He wouldn’t. He refused.

“I love you,” Satella said again, quieter this time—but no less sincere.

Subaru stood frozen. His hatred hadn’t returned. His guilt hadn't left. That was his. That pain… was real.

“What does love mean to you?” he asked, voice shaking. “You… you brought me here. It was you, wasn’t it? Who else would do something like that?”

He stepped forward, not from desire, but from desperation.

“Why me?” he begged. “Why did you choose me? Why won’t you let me die when I’m supposed to?! How many times have I screamed and begged and bled and watched everyone I care about die?”

He clenched his fists, knuckles white with tension.

“You’re going to break me. You’re going to tear me apart.”

“I think you’re made of sterner stuff,” Minerva interjected, her voice both fierce and mournful. “The fact is, someone will suffer. Be it you, your enemies, or the people you love.”

“Sterner stuff?!” Subaru snapped, whirling on the Witch of Wrath, fury lighting up his eyes. “How many more times do I have to die for you to call me strong?! How many screams do I have to hear—how many times do I have to watch the people I love be eaten alive?! I’m not sane! No sane person could live through this! I should be curled up in a corner somewhere, sobbing for my mother—but instead, I’m still here! Still fighting, and still suffering for everyone else!”

“And you think they don’t want to help you?” Minerva fired back, her blue eyes flashing like lightning. “Do you believe you’re the only one who can fight? That only you can bear the burden? That’s not strength, Subaru—that’s arrogance. It’s not love that drives that idea. It’s guilt. It’s fear. And if you keep thinking like that, if you keep going down that path, you’ll become more twisted than any of us.”

Subaru clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “So what, then? I should just… let people die?!”

“People die,” Minerva said flatly, her tone heavy with the weight of ages. “I’ve seen it. I’ve tried to stop it. I can heal any wound, mend any bone—but even my power has limits. My healing caused wars, disasters, and madness. I might have killed more than I saved in the end. So tell me, Subaru—can you say with certainty that by trying to save everyone… You won’t doom others instead?”

Subaru bit down on his tongue, hard enough to taste blood. How many people had already died because of his choices? How many more would he let die… if it meant saving Felt?

Was there a line?

Would he even know when he crossed it?

Minerva looked away for a moment, then turned her gaze to Satella—her voice softening, her fury dimming. “And more than that… you’re ungrateful . ”

Subaru blinked.

“Without Satella,” she continued, “you wouldn’t have made it this far. Without her power, your friends would already be gone. There would be no world left for you to protect. No path forward. No second chances. No hope. You’ve seen the worst of her, Subaru. But you’ve never tried to see what she gave you.”

“Gave me?!” Subaru was trembling, his fists balled at his sides. “I didn’t ask for any of this! I had a life! I had a family! I could have been safe, normal! Instead, I was ripped from my world and thrown into this nightmare! For what? To suffer? Call it what you want, but whatever this is… it isn’t living!”

“I love you,” Satella whispered, clutching her heart like it might shatter. “I can’t bear to see you suffer. I can’t bear to see you die. More than anything, I just want you to live…”

Subaru’s heart fluttered again, involuntarily. The sensation was foreign and sickening, like a hand twisting inside his chest. The only thing anchoring him to himself was rage. Rage at feelings that weren’t his. Rage at her for giving them to him.

He latched onto that fury, desperate to stay whole.

“If you’re the one behind Return by Death…” Subaru’s voice cracked, and he clenched his jaw so tight it felt like his teeth would splinter. “Then you can go to hell.”

He was shaking, not with fear, but from the weight of all the deaths—of Felt, of Rom, of Emilia, of everyone. He could still see the blood-stained halls of Astrea Manor. Still hear the final breaths.

“I can’t tell anyone. I can’t ask for help. If I do, you punish me. You kill me. Or worse. You take the ones I love and rip them apart. If you think I could ever love someone who did that, you’re delusional.”

“I want to hate you,” Subaru snarled. “More than anyone else in this world… I want to hate you. But I can’t even have that.”

Satella flinched. Her lip trembled. Yet her voice didn’t waver. “No matter what you say… no matter how much you scream… I will always love you,” she said softly. “No one else matters to me. I would burn this world to ash if it meant keeping you alive. With me. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

It was unbearable.

A sick, suffocating warmth that wrapped around him like chains. Not affection—possession. Not love—obsession.

Subaru wanted to scream. He wanted to rip the sky apart, to carve open the world and let it bleed. He felt like a doll caught in a tug-of-war between gods who only wanted pieces of him.

He wasn’t a person to them.

He was a vessel. A symbol. A story. A favorite toy.

Why couldn’t he be like Reinhard? Why couldn’t he just swing a sword and end it? He wanted that power—power to shatter everything in his path. To silence them all.

“Subaru,” Minerva said gently, her anger gone, replaced with genuine sympathy. “I don’t blame you. No one could. What you are feeling is natural. But please… please don’t let it consume you.”

Subaru turned, eyes wild, teeth bared.

“That’s easy for you to say!” he screamed, voice raw. “None of you are going through this! Maybe you’ve all suffered—I won’t deny that! But you don’t live my life! You don’t carry my pain! Don’t you dare tell me to be grateful! You don’t have that right!”

Before he could react, Satella wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.

For a fleeting moment, Subaru felt comforted. It was a warmth that seeped into him despite every instinct telling him to resist. The sensation made him sick—but still, he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. He could only feel… numb .

“There are people you must protect. I understand,” Satella whispered into his ear, her voice soft and trembling with emotion. “So I’ve given you the means to do so. And so, I must protect you . I must. I must. In the end, only you matter to me. In the end, only you can do it. Only you … can kill me.”

Subaru’s eyes widened. He took a staggering step back from her embrace.

She looked sorrowful. Vulnerable.

And more than anything… she looked familiar.

It hit him then.

She looked like Emilia. No, not like. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn…

“Kill you?” Subaru echoed, his voice barely audible. The very idea made his skin crawl, made his stomach twist. “You’re doing all of this… just so I’ll kill you?”

“Yes,” Satella said quietly. “No one else can. Because I love no one else, the way I love you.”

Subaru’s mind reeled. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand someone like Satella. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

But what he wanted… it never seemed to matter to anyone here.

“What is our connection?” he asked, the question finally escaping after festering inside for so long. “Why me? Why bring me to this world? You say you love me, but why? Do you even know?”

“I have loved you through the centuries,” she said, reaching up to gently touch his cheek. Her touch made him shiver. “No matter what form you take… I love you.”

“Petelgeuse said I looked like Flugel. Is that it?” Subaru muttered. “The mythical Sage—he knew the Witch of Envy.”

“I loved him. I love you. I love you. I love you,” she whispered in a soft, echoing mantra. “Flugel… Subaru… I love you…”

“I’m not Flugel!” Subaru shouted, stepping back, shaking now.

“No… yes… no…” Satella murmured. “Flugel is you, but you are not Flugel.”

“How is that supposed to make any sense?!”

“I see,” Echidna’s voice cut in smoothly, stepping forward with the air of a teacher addressing a student who’d finally asked the right question. “When a soul dies, it usually travels to Od Lagna—the corridor of memories—for filtration and rebirth. Given that both you and Flugel came from a land called Japan… it fits.”

She folded her hands, ever smug. “You and he share the same soul, Subaru. Not a variation. Not a fragment. The very same soul, reborn.”

Subaru whirled on her, eyes wide. “You knew?”

“I suspected,” Echidna said with a careless shrug. “You resemble him strongly. But it didn’t matter. Not really. You may share his soul, but you are not him. You have no memories, no past tying you to that life. In practical terms, you are entirely you’re own person.”

She smiled, eyes gleaming. “Besides, I’m far more interested in you than in some long-dead sage. Satella may not see the difference… but I do.”

Subaru turned back to Satella. The puzzle pieces made an awful sort of sense now.

If they shared the same soul—if even in another life, he had loved her—then maybe that explained the echo of feeling. The way his heart pulled against his will.

It made him sick.

“If killing you is your wish…” Subaru said, the words like lead in his mouth, “Then I’ll do it. Not because I want to. But because some part of me—damn it—some part of me can’t bear to watch you suffer.”

He turned his back to her.

Instead, he faced the Witch of Greed.

“Echidna,” Subaru said, voice steadying into something cold and resolute, “I don’t know what your game is. But hear me clearly—Roswaal will lose. I’m going to tear everything he’s built apart.”

Echidna raised an eyebrow. “Even if it costs you, in the end?”

“Yes.”

She chuckled, the sound light and airy. “How greedy of you.”

“Subaru…” Minerva began, her voice tinged with concern.

He shook his head. “I’m not a hero. I’ve never claimed to be. But if I can do anything for those who need me, I’ll do it. That includes every one of you.” His gaze flicked across the gathered witches. “But none of you—”

His eyes landed on Satella.

“—are my priority.”

Finally, he turned to Typhon.

He gave a dry, tired smile. “I take back what I said before. I’m not good. I’m not evil, either. I’m somewhere in between.”

Typhon pouted. “There’s no such thing. I think… you just don’t know what you are.”

“Maybe not,” Subaru said softly.

“Subaru…” Satella whispered, clutching her heart like it was the only thing holding her together. “Even if you come to hate me… I will always love you.”

The words sank into him like a dagger wrapped in silk. His gut twisted. His lips parted—but no words came. No rage, no defiance. Just silence. He couldn't trust himself to speak. Not to her. Not right now.

He turned, facing Echidna instead.

“…I’d like to remember this,” Subaru said quietly. “Everything that happened here. I know it might be selfish to ask.”

There was a pause.

Echidna's voice was thoughtful, distant. “Very well,” she murmured. “I don’t see the harm in it.”

Then she added, softer still, “Until we meet again… Subaru.”

The world around him began to dissolve into light.

Like slipping into a warm bath, his body became weightless. The sounds faded. The grass, the sky, the witches—everything vanished in a gentle white.

And the last thing he saw… was her.

Satella.

Her face was still hidden in shadow. Yet he could see just enough.

She was beautiful.

And this time…

That thought was all his.

---

Gasping, Subaru jolted awake.

His breath came in ragged bursts as he shook his head, trying to anchor himself in the present. It was still dark. The moon hung high above, casting silver light over the forest clearing at the base of the Tomb.

His body felt cold, damp with sweat. The memories of the witches—of her—lingered like a fever dream. They felt impossibly real, and yet… distant. As if he’d walked through someone else’s memory and claimed it as his own.

Subaru looked toward the Tomb. Garfiel was gone.

He must’ve slipped away—maybe to fetch Emilia for the trial. That, or something else, had demanded his attention. Either way, the momentary absence brought Subaru a strange mix of relief and unease.

“Subaru.”

The voice made his blood run cold.

He turned to see Petelgeuse standing beside him, his face composed but anxious. Subaru hadn’t even realized he’d summoned the Unseen Hands. But now that he focused, the familiar tugging sensation curled in his gut, subtle, but unmistakable.

“What is it?” Subaru asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“I need to speak with Emilia again,” the Sin Archbishop said, his voice unusually solemn. “Please.”

Subaru stiffened.

The last time Petelgeuse had spoken to her, it had ended in a panic attack. Emilia had nearly crumbled. Trying again so soon felt reckless—dangerous, even. And if Garfiel returned and saw them together, Subaru wasn’t sure they’d avoid a confrontation.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Subaru said cautiously. “You saw what happened before. It’s only been a few hours. She’s not ready.”

“I understand,” Petelgeuse replied, dipping his head, “But if she takes the trial in her current state… she may not recover. I know her better than anyone. I was by her side before anyone else. I must try. I beg you.”

Subaru hesitated.

He thought of Felt—if someone had tried to stop him from helping her, he might’ve killed them. Could he deny this request?

After a long pause, he let out a breath and gave a slow nod. “Alright. But don’t push it. Felt’s in danger back at the manor. It’s a long story—don’t ask. I can’t risk wasting time here.”

“You have my word,” Petelgeuse said sincerely.

Subaru nodded, and a familiar chill began to seep into his bones.

Allowing the Archbishop to take control of his body always felt wrong—like sinking into ice, like drowning without water. He hovered behind himself, watching through disembodied eyes as Petelgeuse stood up in his stead.

“I can’t hold the hands for long,” Petelgeuse muttered, already looking strained. “I’ll summon them again after I speak to her.”

Subaru didn’t like that. The unseen hands were a lifeline. Without them, they were vulnerable. But even he had trouble keeping them active for extended periods. It made sense. Still, the discomfort gnawed at him.

“Don’t be long,” Subaru warned. “Once you’re done, we need to regroup with Otto and the twins before the night is over.”

“I understand.”

And with that, the world around Subaru dimmed again—his consciousness fading into the void as Petelgeuse let the hands slip away.

---

Time became an abstract concept.

It was as though Subaru existed in a dream—not fully asleep, yet not awake either. He drifted, suspended in a place where thought echoed endlessly, and the walls of his consciousness pressed in around him. A quiet part of him knew that if he tried, he could break free—wake up.

But he didn’t.

He lingered.

Seconds could’ve passed… or years. The uncertainty clawed at him, and for a moment, panic surged. He nearly forced his way out—nearly screamed himself back to the world.

Then, as if sensing his rising dread, color returned.

With a sharp gasp, Subaru found himself sitting upright in a small wooden cabin. Blinking, he looked down—his fingers curled around a warm, empty teacup.

The shift had been sudden. Too sudden.

Every other time he’d swapped places with Petelgeuse, he’d returned like a ghost—an observer trapped in the back of his mind. He’d always had to fight his way back in, pulling the Sin Archbishop out and reclaiming control.

But this… this felt like he’d been dropped back into himself.

No warning. No resistance.

Looking around, Subaru quickly noted the absence of Petelgeuse and the Unseen Hands. Instead, the only person in the room was a certain small, pink-haired girl. Ryuzu, calmly seated across from him, cradled her steaming cup of tea.

“Is that you, Young Su?” she asked without lifting her eyes from the rim of her cup.

Subaru frowned and glanced toward the window. It was still night. But how much time had passed?

“…It’s me,” he said warily. “Why am I here?”

Ryuzu studied him for a moment before setting her cup down and rising. She crossed the room to pour a fresh cup of green tea and returned, placing it in front of him with practiced grace.

“There are things I would like to tell you,” she said slowly, “but I am… unable.”

Subaru’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Ryuzu met his gaze, unblinking, lips pressed in a thin line.

“I thought you had to answer Apostles?” he pressed, irritation growing in his chest.

“We do,” Ryuzu said with a nod. “However, you are no longer an Apostle. Nor is Young Gar.”

Subaru froze. Then his face contorted into a deep scowl.

“…That bitch, ” he muttered, the pieces clicking into place.

Of course, Echidna had revoked his authority. If she’d stripped him of the right to take the trials, why wouldn’t she remove his command over the Ryuzu clones as well?

But Garfiel? Why him?

“Do you know why Garfiel had his status revoked?” he asked tightly.

Ryuzu shook her head. “I am very limited in what I may say. But I can tell you… I am not pleased with the current state of things. I wish I could say more.”

Subaru looked down into the tea in his hands. The liquid rippled slightly from his trembling grip. Suddenly, he didn’t trust it. He didn’t trust any of this. Was Ryuzu speaking of her own will? Was this conversation even real ?

He set the cup aside.

“Is there anything you can tell me?”

“Yes,” Ryuzu nodded. “Young Em will be taking the trials. I am… hopeful she will succeed.”

Subaru’s heart jumped. “Why?”

“Your counterpart helped her reclaim her memories,” she said simply. “That is all I can say.”

Subaru gritted his teeth. Ryuzu was being strangled by restrictions. If he wanted real answers, he’d need a different approach.

Reaching inward, Subaru pulled at the knot in his gut. Oily black limbs burst from his back—each one straining and twitching as he summoned the Unseen Hands.

He looked around the cabin.

But Petelgeuse was nowhere to be seen.

“Petelgeuse?” he called. “Come on, man, I need to talk.”

Silence.

No voice. No response. Not even a whisper in the back of his mind.

Subaru let the hands fade away, a chill settling into his spine. The Archbishop should have been there. The fact that he wasn’t… that he hadn’t returned… something was wrong .

“I need to find Emilia. Then the others,” he said quietly, standing up and giving Ryuzu a quick nod. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Be careful, Young Su,” Ryuzu said gently, her expression unreadable.

After leaving Ryuzu’s small cabin, Subaru ran headlong through the quiet night. The forest felt calmer now—still tense, but the frantic energy from earlier seemed distant. The villagers who had been searching for Felt had either given up or ventured deeper into the woods. Regardless, Subaru wasted no time as he raced toward Emilia’s cabin, eager and anxious to learn exactly what Petelgeuse had been doing with his body.

“Subaru!”

The voice snapped his head around, and Subaru barely had time to react as Ram’s foot sliced through the air, aimed straight for his chest. Throwing himself backward, he stumbled to regain his balance, narrowly dodging her strike.

“Ram—?! What the hell is your problem?!”

Ram spun gracefully, her eyes burning with fury as she leveled something resembling a wand at him, teeth clenched tight. Her voice trembled with barely-contained rage as she advanced on him.

“Where is Master Roswaal?!”

Subaru blinked, utterly confused. “Roswaal? Isn’t that bastard in bed?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Ram hissed, stepping closer. “You spoke with him not half an hour ago. Now he’s missing!”

Subaru’s blood ran cold. “Missing?! Wait, slow down—what do you mean?”

“This was your doing, wasn’t it?” Ram accused bitterly, her voice sharp as steel. “You’ve been at his throat since the moment you arrived. Tell me what you did!”

“Sister, wait!”

Rem burst from the brush, panting heavily as she rushed to Ram’s side. “Ram, please—calm down!”

“He knows something!” Ram snapped at her sister, still glaring daggers at Subaru.

Rem turned pleadingly to Subaru. “Subaru, tell her you had nothing to do with it. Tell her you wouldn’t—”

Subaru hesitated, his heart pounding hard. Petelgeuse had met with Roswaal without his knowledge. Why? What did they discuss? Had it caused Roswaal to flee? The thought of the clown slipping away—escaping accountability—made Subaru’s stomach twist with anger and dread.

But he knew one thing for certain.

“I had nothing to do with him vanishing,” Subaru said firmly, forcing himself to meet Ram’s accusing stare. “Believe me—if it had been me, I wouldn’t have been subtle. There’s no one in this world I hate more than Roswaal.”

“Then give me a reason to trust you!” Ram growled, still gripping her wand tightly.

Subaru shook his head bitterly. “Because there’s no scenario where I could make Roswaal disappear without anyone noticing. If he’s gone, the only explanation is that he left on his own.”

The words tasted sour in his mouth. Roswaal was on the move, and Subaru had no clue where or why. For all he knew, the clown could lurk in the shadows, ready to unleash chaos. Or worse, deliberately drawing in that monstrous horde of rabbits.

Subaru shuddered at the memory of Felt’s agonized screams echoing in his mind, quickly forcing the horrifying image down.

Whatever Roswaal was planning, Subaru knew it couldn’t end well.

“Sister, please,” Rem urged gently, clutching at her chest.

Ram hesitated, visibly torn. Her fierce gaze softened only slightly as she looked back to Subaru. “Then tell me, what exactly did you and Master Roswaal discuss?”

Subaru clenched his jaw. He had no way to truthfully answer that—not without revealing Petelgeuse’s involvement. Ram would probably try to kill him on the spot if she found out a Sin Archbishop had commandeered his body to speak with her beloved master.

“That’s between Roswaal and me,” Subaru said firmly. “If you want to know where he went, I can’t help you—I’d love nothing more than to track him down myself.”

Ram’s fists tightened at her sides, frustration and suspicion plain in her eyes. After a tense moment, though, she finally relented—just a bit.

“Fine,” she spat bitterly. “It’s not as though someone like you could harm him anyway. But we must find him.”

Subaru grimaced. “Finding Roswaal isn’t my top priority right now. Felt’s still in danger—I have to get her home safe first. But right now, there’s something else. Where’s Emilia?”

Rem stepped forward hesitantly. “Lady Emilia is in her cabin, asleep. Garfiel tried to wake her, but for some reason, she wouldn’t wake up. I was about to check on her myself, but then—well, Ram saw you and…”

Emilia won’t wake up? Subaru frowned deeply. Is that something new, or did I miss something important again?

He felt perpetually behind, always reacting, always scrambling just to keep up. It was maddening—he wanted to be the one setting plans in motion, not endlessly chasing them. Whatever Petelgeuse had done in his absence, Subaru knew it probably wasn’t good.

What the hell did that green-haired bastard do this time?

“I need to see Emilia,” Subaru said decisively.

“Absolutely not,” Ram interjected sharply. “The last time you saw her, you left her in a terrible state. Approaching her now would only make matters worse.”

Subaru turned, meeting Ram’s glare with equal intensity. “If she won’t wake up, it probably doesn’t matter much, does it?”

Without waiting for an answer, he pivoted sharply and strode toward Emilia’s cabin. He half-expected Ram to chase after him, to lash out again, or stop him by force—but instead, he heard quick footsteps approaching at his side.

Rem hurried up to him, throwing a worried glance back toward her sister before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Subaru, please… what’s really going on?”

He shook his head grimly. “I don’t know yet. But whatever it is, I’m sure it’s nothing good.”

The walk to Emilia’s cabin was short, but tense. As they approached, Subaru spotted Garfiel standing guard outside, his expression a tight, agitated scowl that deepened as he saw Subaru and Rem coming toward him.

“Thought ya were busy with th’ trials?” Garfiel growled suspiciously.

“You can blame Echidna for that,” Subaru replied bitterly. “I’m no longer qualified—not by choice, mind you.”

“What?” Garfiel’s eyes widened, and he closed the distance quickly, grabbing Subaru roughly by the collar. “Th’ hell d’ya mean, ‘no longer qualified’?!”

Subaru glared back evenly. “Exactly what I said. Echidna revoked my right to take the trials. She implied Emilia’s the only one allowed now. And there’s more—Ryuzu just told me neither of us are Apostles anymore, either.”

Garfiel’s grip tightened, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury. “Yer tellin’ me you were an Apostle too?!”

“Garfiel,” Rem interjected sharply, placing a firm hand on his arm. “Let go of Subaru—now.”

After a tense moment, Garfiel reluctantly released him, stepping back with a frustrated growl. Crossing his arms, he looked between them both with narrowed eyes. “First, ya tell me my sister’s in trouble. Then ya go and lose yer chance at th’ trials. An’ now I’m hearin’ whispers that Roswaal’s gone missin’. Just what th’ hell’s goin’ on here?”

“Believe me,” Subaru replied darkly, “no one wants those answers more than I do.” His gaze shifted toward Emilia’s cabin, worry gnawing at his chest. “So Emilia really isn’t waking up?”

“Nope. Shook her like a rag doll,” Garfiel said grimly. “Might as well be a corpse, ’cept she’s still breathin’.”

“I’ll check on her myself,” Subaru said, reaching for the door handle—only for Garfiel to immediately grab his wrist again.

“If she’s really th’ only one left who can complete these trials,” Garfiel growled firmly, “then ya better believe I ain’t lettin’ her outta my sight.”

“Fine by me,” Subaru said, pulling his arm free and shooting Garfiel a sharp look. “Come on in, then.”

Garfiel hesitated, then reluctantly nodded and released him. Subaru opened the door—

—and felt something violently tugging him forward. Before he could react, he was falling headfirst into absolute darkness. He heard Garfiel and Rem cry out as they too were pulled inside, the door slamming shut behind them with a deafening bang and a definitive latch.

Subaru hit the cold stone floor hard. Moments later, Garfiel’s weight crashed down heavily onto his back, knocking the breath from his lungs. Subaru groaned painfully—only for Rem to land directly on top of them both, nearly crushing him entirely.

“Rem… Garfiel…” Subaru gasped weakly, voice muffled against the stone. “Please get off.”

“S-sorry, Subaru!” Rem stammered, quickly scrambling to her feet. Garfiel practically leaped up, eyes frantic as he spun around, searching through the darkness.

“Where th’ hell are we?!” Garfiel growled anxiously. “I can’t see a damn thing!”

Struggling upright, Subaru reached instinctively for his sword, gripping the hilt tightly. Drawing mana, he let it surge through the blade until flames erupted along its edge, illuminating their surroundings in a flickering orange glow.

They were standing in a stone chamber, dark and unfamiliar—yet somehow disturbingly familiar at the same time.

Subaru turned sharply to his right, heart hammering as he noticed two shadowy figures slumped forward, tied tightly to chairs. He took a cautious step closer—and his stomach dropped.

Sitting bound and bloodied before him were Frederica and Petra.

Chapter 32: ARC 3 - Chapter 12: Embers

ARC III

---

Chapter XII:

Embers

---

“Sis!” Garfiel cried, surging forward impulsively.

Subaru quickly caught Garfiel’s wrist, pulling him sharply back and pressing a finger urgently to his own lips. “Quiet—keep your voice down!”

“What?!” Garfiel blinked, confusion and anger flickering across his face.

“I think we’re inside Roswaal’s manor,” Subaru whispered tersely, his gaze darting cautiously around the shadowy room. “Capella’s here. She can change her appearance—and that of others.”

Garfiel’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yer sayin’ that might not be my sister?”

“I have no idea who they are right now,” Subaru said carefully. “But we fell into this place the exact same way Felt did. I’m pretty damn sure it’s a trap.”

“But…why would Master Roswaal set a trap for us?” Rem interjected, sounding troubled.

Subaru almost laughed bitterly. The real question was why Roswaal wouldn’t set a trap. “If I had to guess, it was meant specifically for me. You two just got caught in the crossfire.”

Garfiel growled quietly, fists clenched. “Whatever th’ reason, I’m still gonna wake my sis up. Don’t worry—I won’t untie her till I know it’s really her.”

Subaru hesitated, scanning the chamber. Petra and Frederica were there, battered and bound—but no Felt. Was her absence a relief or cause for greater worry? Either way, staying here wasn’t an option. None of them stood a chance against the Sin Archbishop of Lust.

Then a new thought chilled his blood.

What about the rest of Arlam Village? Half the villagers are here.

His stomach twisted.

“Sis, c’mon—wake up!” Garfiel whispered urgently, shaking Frederica’s shoulder.

Frederica’s eyes slowly opened, gaze clouded and unfocused as she stared weakly at Garfiel. Her voice emerged raw and exhausted. “It’s…not going to work again…you vile bitch.”

“What’re ya talkin’ about?” Garfiel asked, hurt and confused.

“She thinks you’re Capella,” Subaru said quietly. “And probably thinks Rem and I are Elsa and Meili.”

Frederica’s eyes shifted toward Subaru’s voice, narrowing sharply. “Subaru? No…not this again. I won’t fall for it anymore…”

She looked drained, bruised, and battered, barely hanging on. Capella had put them both through hell, likely to better mimic their appearances, or worse, purely for sadistic amusement.

Subaru turned urgently to Garfiel. “Tell her something only the two of you would know. Something Capella couldn’t fake. Then Frederica can confirm the same.”

“Got somethin’ better,” Garfiel said quickly, pulling out the crystal pendant around his neck. “No one but us has one of these, right, Sis?”

Subaru hesitated, then reached carefully into his pocket, withdrawing the blue crystal necklace he’d kept hidden away. Frederica stared weakly at the twin gems—recognition slowly dawning in her eyes.

“You’re… both real?” she breathed, the suspicion fading slightly from her weary expression.

“Yeah, we’re real,” Garfiel assured her, voice strained with emotion.

“You need to prove you’re real now,” Subaru urged quietly.

Frederica’s eyes drifted weakly toward Garfiel. “Garf…do you remember when you were little, and you told me you saw Ram bathing in the riv—”

Garfiel’s face turned scarlet instantly. He lunged forward, frantically clamping his hand over Frederica’s mouth. “S-She’s real, dammit! Of all th’ things to pick, why’d ya have t’use that ?!”

Rem tilted her head slightly, puzzled. “I don’t understand… You saw my sister doing what, exactly?”

“D-Don’t worry about it!” Garfiel snapped, blushing furiously as he turned away. “Just hurry an’ get these damned chains off already!”

Suppressing a smirk, Subaru quickly stepped forward, slicing cleanly through the remaining restraints. Frederica sagged forward the moment her bindings fell, and Garfiel swiftly caught her, hauling her gently upright. Meanwhile, Rem hurried to Petra’s side, fussing anxiously over the pale, trembling girl.

Subaru’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as he saw the state they were in—bruised, battered, drained. He shuddered to think how much worse it must have been in past loops, before he’d reached them in time.

“Frederica,” he asked urgently, leaning closer. “Have you seen Felt anywhere?”

She shook her head weakly, voice thin and strained. “I haven’t. All I remember is the day after you left, two women broke into the manor. They moved faster than we could react—I didn’t even get a chance to transform before they overpowered us.”

Garfiel scowled deeply, cradling his sister protectively. “Then why didn’t ya just break outta these damn chains?”

“They kept forcing some kind of drug down my throat,” Frederica muttered bitterly. “I can barely stand… let alone break iron.”

Subaru knelt beside Petra, illuminating her pale, sickly face in the sword’s flickering firelight. Concern gnawed at his gut as he glanced upward, toward the ceiling where the strange doorway had deposited them. A sudden thought took hold.

Quietly channeling mana into his legs, Subaru leaped toward the ceiling, grabbing firmly onto the handle embedded there. With a sharp tug, the door swung open—but beyond the threshold lay only solid stone, unyielding and impassable.

Landing back on the floor with a frustrated sigh, Subaru shook his head grimly. “Worth a shot.”

“Subaru,” Rem called softly, adjusting Petra carefully onto her back. “What do we do now?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? How did they possibly escape this?

If they were lucky, Capella and the assassins might not yet know they’d arrived. But if Roswaal had somehow warned them in advance… Subaru shuddered, forcing the thought down. No, if they’d been anticipated, surely Capella would have been waiting eagerly in the shadows, ready to pounce the moment they appeared.

Right now, they still had a chance—but the window of opportunity was closing fast.

“We need to get out of this room,” Subaru said urgently, scanning their surroundings. “Your priority is getting Frederica and Petra out safely.”

“What about you, Subaru?” Rem asked, her voice tight with worry.

“I’m going to find Felt and Beatrice,” Subaru replied firmly. “You need to head for the woods and put as much distance as possible between yourselves and this manor.”

Rem looked ready to protest—but surprisingly, Garfiel cut in first, smirking despite the tension. “Look at th’ balls on you. Alright, yer the boss, I guess. Just don’t go gettin’ yerself killed. We still gotta make it back to the Sanctuary when this is all over, ya hear?”

Subaru nodded, determination burning in his eyes. “Understood.”

Turning toward the far wall, Subaru ran his hands carefully over the rough stone, desperately seeking any kind of hidden latch or lever. After what felt like ages, his fingers brushed a loose stone. Pressing firmly, he felt the wall shift beneath his touch, swinging open silently to reveal the dimly lit bathhouse beyond.

Subaru turned back, giving Garfiel a serious look. “Get them out of here safely. And whatever you do, avoid Arlam Village—something dangerous may be happening there too.”

Garfiel paused, frowning thoughtfully. “If we see ya again, how do we know it’s really you?”

“‘Appas taste good,’” Subaru replied quickly. “It’s a code phrase. If I don’t say exactly that, assume it’s not me.”

“Got it,” Garfiel acknowledged with a sharp nod.

Rem stepped forward hesitantly. “Subaru, I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I need you to protect Petra,” Subaru said gently, offering her a reassuring smile. “Besides—I’m tougher than I look.”

Rem didn’t appear convinced, but when Petra groaned weakly against her back, the worry in Rem’s eyes hardened into determination. “Fine… but if you get yourself seriously hurt, I’ll never forgive you.”

Subaru nearly chuckled bitterly at the irony of Rem, of all people, uttering those words. It felt like a lifetime ago. In truth, it had been several lifetimes. Yet now she stood firmly by his side as an ally, and for that, he was deeply grateful.

Moving carefully, the group ascended the staircase to the main foyer. Shadows stretched ominously across the manor’s halls, the darkness heavy and foreboding. Subaru felt dread coiling in his chest—every nerve on edge, anticipating disaster at any moment.

“Should we just go straight out th’ front door?” Garfiel growled quietly, eyeing the entrance suspiciously.

“No,” Subaru shook his head sharply. “Rem, lead them out through the secret passage in Roswaal’s office. Move quietly. If anyone spots you, shout—even if it looks like Felt. Remember, Capella could be anyone.”

Rem nodded sharply. “And you?”

“I’m going to find Beatrice first,” Subaru answered without hesitation. “I’m confident she hasn’t been compromised yet.”

Rem frowned skeptically. “How can you be so sure?”

Because last time, she wasn’t, Subaru thought privately. Out loud, he simply smirked, “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

“Enough chit-chat,” Frederica muttered weakly, clutching her brother’s arm tightly. “Garf, we need to go. Now.”

“Right,” Garfiel agreed, steadying his sister carefully. He shot Subaru one final, meaningful look. “Don’t ya dare die.”

Subaru nodded firmly, gripping his sword tightly. “Same goes for you.”

With that, they slipped quietly into the shadows, leaving Subaru alone in the manor’s oppressive darkness.

Drawing in a deep, calming breath, Subaru crept carefully down the shadowed hallway, mindful to keep his footsteps quiet and his sword sheathed. If he was lucky, the assassins wouldn’t know he was here yet. Maybe he could even pass off his arrival as accidental, like Felt’s had been. But if they saw him as a threat—well, Elsa wouldn’t hesitate. She’d kill him before he could blink.

The manor halls were eerily silent. Pale moonlight spilled through tall windows, illuminating the empty corridors and casting ghostly shapes across the walls. Subaru’s heart thundered painfully in his chest. Every nerve was on edge, anticipating Elsa’s sudden, lethal strike. One mistake would be all it took.

Moving swiftly yet silently, Subaru carefully tested each door, seeking that familiar sense—the subtle aura that marked Beatrice’s Forbidden Library. He had to find it soon. If luck was with him—

“When did you return, I wonder? You certainly haven’t lifted the barrier at the Sanctuary yet, I suppose?”

Subaru blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected the very first door he opened to lead directly into Beatrice’s secluded library. Quickly stepping inside, he shut the door securely behind him, hearing it click with reassuring finality.

“Beatrice,” Subaru said urgently, voice tight with tension. “We don’t have long. There are dangerous people inside the manor. If you stay here, you’ll be killed—I’m sure of it.”

He braced himself, anticipating her usual skepticism, a dismissive scowl, or even panicked denial.

Instead, Beatrice just offered him a quiet, melancholy smile. Her small hands tightened around the old book held tightly against her chest.

“So…it’s finally here,” she whispered softly, almost as if speaking to herself.

Subaru frowned deeply, confusion and worry twisting together inside him. “What’s here? What are you talking about?”

Beatrice hesitated, and when she finally spoke again, her voice cracked painfully. “Subaru…can I ask you for something terribly selfish, I wonder? If there truly are dangerous people here…would you please help me?”

Subaru felt a knot form in his stomach as tears began welling up in her eyes. “Of course—I’ll help you. We can escape together, I promise you. The two of us—”

She shook her head, cutting him off gently, heartbreakingly, as tears trickled silently down her cheeks. “No, Subaru. That’s not what I meant. Please, you must… You must kill me, I suppose.”

Subaru’s blood turned to ice. His eyes widened as the weight of her words sank in, his voice trembling as he repeated, “Kill you...? Beatrice, why would you—”

A horrible realization gripped him.

“Four hundred years... You’ve been alone all this time, haven’t you?”

Beatrice lowered her head, tears beginning to spill freely down her cheeks. Her small frame shook with quiet desperation as she held tightly onto the ancient book.

“So…you finally remember. Please, Subaru. I need you…to become ‘That Person,’ I suppose.” Her voice was small, almost broken. “I wanted you to be. I’ve waited for you to be. I need you to be.”

Subaru swallowed, his throat painfully dry. “Beatrice…who exactly is ‘That Person’?”

She looked up at him, eyes filled with centuries of sorrow and longing. “Mother told me that one day, ‘That Person’ would come for me. She never told me who it was. I waited... I’ve waited four hundred years, Subaru! Four centuries of loneliness—alone in the darkness, left to guard a library nobody visits, clinging to the hope of someone who never appeared!” Her voice cracked, edged with unbearable anguish. “Everyone I ever cared for died. I watched them all vanish. And still, I remain. I have nothing left. Nothing! I just want…someone to free me. Please, Subaru—please tell me you’re him…”

Subaru’s heart sank deeper. Beatrice’s loneliness had been evident before, but he’d never imagined the depth of despair consuming her. She was tired—so terribly tired of life, of the endless monotony, of waiting for a purpose that never came.

His eyes fell to the book she clutched so desperately to her chest. He recognized it immediately—the same type Roswaal possessed.

“You have a Tome of Wisdom,” Subaru said quietly, eyes narrowing. “Just like Roswaal. Is that what put these ideas into your head?”

Beatrice shook her head slowly, opening the pages to reveal blank, faded sheets. Tears fell onto the empty parchment, staining the surface.

“Mother hasn’t spoken to me through these pages for a very long time,” she whispered. “They’ve been empty for decades. I’ve had nothing left but silence.”

A bitter anger rose inside Subaru’s chest, mingled with fierce, protective sorrow. “Echidna…” he hissed through clenched teeth. His fists tightened at his sides. “Beatrice, listen to me. I don’t care what Echidna told you—living your life based on the empty promises of a blank book is ridiculous! It’s wrong!”

He stepped closer, voice rising in passion. “Your life shouldn’t depend on her commands! Asking someone to kill you…you called it selfish yourself, but it’s more than that. It’s cruel—to yourself, and to everyone who cares about you!”

Beatrice stared at him, eyes wide with shock, tears still streaming silently down her cheeks.

“You have value, Beatrice!” Subaru continued fiercely. “You saved my life! You helped protect Arlam—even when you insisted you’d do nothing, you still acted! Don’t pretend you can’t live your life for yourself! You don’t need someone else to define your worth—not Echidna, not some mythical ‘That Person,’ and certainly not me!”

“You have no idea what it’s like, I suppose!” Beatrice cried out, her voice rising sharply, anguish raw and unfiltered. Tears poured down her face in endless streams. “My loneliness, my pain—it never ends! Not with you, not with Roswaal, not with Emilia… You’ll all leave me behind. You’ll all die, and I’ll remain, trapped forever in a cycle of endless loss! I want it to stop—I want to be the one who dies this time, I suppose!”

Subaru’s fists trembled, his heart aching with an overwhelming sorrow. “Beatrice…I can’t kill you,” His voice broke as he forced the words out. “I can’t do that to you. I can’t be the one responsible for ending your life… Please, there must be another way.”

Beatrice’s expression shattered. She slowly stood, clutching her blank tome tightly against her chest, her gaze lost and unbearably empty.

“If… If you can’t be ‘That Person,’” Beatrice whispered, voice trembling, eyes filled with centuries of heartache, “then at least…at least overwrite my contract. Paint over everything. Put me first! Choose me above all else! Take me away from here forever! Hold me close—hold onto me, and never let go!”

She wiped desperately at her tears, her voice choking on sobs. “But you can’t, can you, I suppose? You can’t possibly choose me. So…destroy me instead. Destroy the worthless failure that I’ve become. Or can you defy my expectations? I don’t want it to be anyone else—but right now, I’ll accept anyone at all, I suppose…”

Subaru stood frozen, heartbroken at the raw desperation in her voice. Could he put her first, truly? He already carried the weight of so many others’ lives. Could he bear to prioritize Beatrice over all of them?

Would it really be so hard?

“Beatrice…” Subaru whispered, voice shaking as he forced himself forward. “I won’t cause your death. I can’t do that. I’ve known suffering, too—the kind I can’t even express. But your pain…it must be deeper, heavier than anything I’ve faced. I don’t pretend to understand fully, but please—let me help you. Let me save you from this.”

Beatrice shook her head weakly, her voice now distant, empty. “If you can’t be ‘That Person’…if you can’t free me by killing me…then there’s nothing more for us to discuss, I suppose.”

Before Subaru could say another word or reach out to her, an unseen force flung him violently backwards, throwing him out into the corridor. He hit the floor with a grunt, scrambling upright just in time to see Beatrice’s tear-streaked face framed by the library’s doorway. Her sorrowful eyes met his, filled with pain beyond measure, as the door slammed shut between them.

“Beatrice!” Subaru shouted desperately, lunging for the door and wrenching it open—only to find a silent, empty bedroom where the library had just been.

Clenching his fists so tightly they trembled, Subaru fought down the urge to scream. He took a ragged breath, forcing composure as best he could manage.

He didn’t have time for this.

I have to find Felt, he reminded himself, steeling his resolve.

With one final glance at the empty room, Subaru turned sharply down the hallway, heart racing, senses on high alert as he prepared himself for whatever awaited him ahead.

---

Felt stared blankly out the bedroom window, replaying the strange events of the night in her head. One minute she’d been gathering feed for Patrasche, minding her own business—and the next, she’d found herself standing confused in the middle of a bedroom.

Only when Petra nearly jumped out of her skin at Felt’s sudden appearance had she realized she was back in that creep Roswaal’s manor. Even stranger, when she checked the door behind her, it opened to reveal nothing but the back of an empty closet.

The maids had assured her that Subaru would eventually figure out what happened and come to get her. Felt had no doubt he would—Subaru was the most dependable person she knew. Without him, she doubted she’d even be alive right now.

She sighed quietly, rolling over in bed. It was late, and the tea she’d shared with Frederica and Petra earlier had left her strangely sleepy.

“Stupid magic doors,” she muttered drowsily, yawning as she shifted position.

Suddenly, a chill shot through her. In one shadowy corner of the room stood Frederica, her tall frame rigid, wearing an unsettling smile as she silently watched.

“By the Dragon—!” Felt gasped sharply, jolting upright, her heart pounding wildly. “You scared me half to death! Didn’t even hear you come in… What is it?”

“There seems to be a bit of a problem,” Frederica answered softly, her voice disturbingly calm. “No matter. Things will sort themselves out soon enough.”

“A prob—”

Before Felt could finish, a loud explosion erupted somewhere outside, shaking the manor and rattling the windows. Adrenaline surged, and Felt quickly threw the covers aside, attempting to stand—but her legs gave out instantly beneath her, turning to useless jelly. She crashed forward onto the cold wooden floor with a painful grunt.

“M-My legs… They’re not working…” Felt muttered, panic rising as numbness began spreading rapidly through her chest. “What’s going on?!”

“It was the tea,” Frederica explained quietly, stepping closer. “I added a paralytic agent. Don’t worry—it won’t dull your senses.”

Felt stared up in shock and confusion. “But… why? Why would you—?”

Another explosion rocked the manor, cutting her off and sending vibrations through the floorboards.

Frederica’s unsettling smile widened, eyes glinting coldly in the darkness. “Simple—because Mother wished it. Normally, I’d simply cut open your belly and admire the insides myself, but you’re reserved for her special entertainment tonight. Don’t worry—I’ve been promised another prize.”

Felt’s blood ran cold, fear tightening her throat as darkness crowded at the edges of her vision.

“Y-You’re insane!” Felt gasped, struggling to move her useless limbs. Panic surged through her as she stared up helplessly at Frederica. “What the hell is going on?!”

Frederica sighed lightly, as though discussing some minor inconvenience. “Apparently, someone is causing trouble for Mother outside. A foolish man was upset at her little games with the villagers. Once I’m finished here, I'll deal with him personally.”

Desperate adrenaline pumped through Felt’s veins as she tried again to rise—but now even her arms felt numb and limp. Her vision swam as fear clawed at her chest, eyes darting frantically around the room, searching for any escape.

Frederica stepped closer, her cold eyes lighting with twisted delight. Kneeling beside Felt, she reached out gently, stroking her cheek with a chilling softness.

“Oh, how adorable you look, eyes wide and panicked like a trapped rabbit,” Frederica cooed, her voice disturbingly affectionate. “I truly regret not cutting you open when I first met you. I'm sure your insides are just as cute as your outside—though perhaps you'll just become rotting meat when Mother finishes with you.”

“G-Get away from me!” Felt managed to rasp out, using every ounce of remaining strength to smack Frederica’s hand away. Her effort was brushed aside effortlessly.

“Maybe just one little cut, to see what’s inside?” Frederica whispered sweetly, pulling a slender, curved dagger from behind her back, its polished blade gleaming dangerously in the moonlight. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter. Whatever Mother plans for you will be far, far worse.”

I’m… I'm going to die here. Felt’s heart hammered wildly, throat dry with fear as she stared helplessly up into Frederica’s merciless eyes.

“Now be a good little princess,” Frederica whispered sweetly, brandishing the dagger dangerously close to Felt’s trembling face, “and scream when the time comes.”

Felt squeezed her eyes shut, her body shuddering as she desperately braced herself for the pain she knew was coming—

A violent crash suddenly echoed through the room, splintering wood exploding inward as the door shattered. Felt’s eyes shot open just in time to see the heavy wooden door fly past her, narrowly missing Frederica as the maid sprang back with unnatural speed.

Before Felt could even process the chaos, a lethal gale tore through the room, shredding wallpaper, furniture, and shattering the windows with explosive force.

“Get the fuck away from her, you bitch.”

Felt’s heart leaped. Her eyes widened in shock and relief. “S-Subaru?!”

Standing defiantly in the ruined doorway, blade drawn and glowing fiercely, was the man she trusted more than anyone else. Subaru’s face was a mask of focused fury as he stepped forward, weapon crackling with fierce energy.

“My, my,” Frederica purred mockingly, drawing a second dagger from her belt. “Such raw bloodlust! You didn’t hesitate for even a second!”

Subaru lunged forward, sparks erupting as their blades clashed. Purple crystals erupted from Subaru’s free hand, lightning crackling and lancing toward the false maid, forcing her into a defensive stance. A powerful slash sent a burst of mana through the wall, demolishing it and exposing the adjacent bedroom in a cascade of shattered wood.

“I’ve already found the real Frederica downstairs,” Subaru growled, kicking the impostor back, his voice dripping with contempt. “It doesn’t matter whose face you wear—Elsa.”

Elsa? The Bowel Hunter?! Felt’s breath caught in her throat, fresh terror rising.

“Oh?” the fake Frederica smirked, features shifting into Elsa’s familiar predatory smile. “Very clever… Tell me, Subaru—how did you get here so soon? We thought we still had a day.”

“It seems tonight isn’t going according to plan for anyone,” Subaru retorted coldly, thrusting his blade forward to release a jet of searing flame.

Elsa rolled swiftly aside, narrowly avoiding the blast. Subaru’s voice dropped low, darkly commanding:

“ Shamak. ”

Instantly, all light vanished. Felt plunged into absolute darkness, losing sense of self and surroundings. No heat, no cold, no air—just endless nothingness. Panic surged, nearly overwhelming her, until abruptly she felt herself lifted, draped securely over a strong shoulder.

Her senses flooded back as Subaru carried her swiftly down the shadowed hallway.

“S-Subaru,” she gasped weakly, head spinning. “How… how did you—?”

“No time,” he replied sharply, eyes fixed forward. “Can you walk?”

“N-no,” Felt admitted faintly, her voice thick and slurred. “I waz…dwwugged…” She blinked hazily, tongue heavy in her mouth. “Wuh…need…to gwet…out…”

Subaru nodded sharply, determination etched into every line of his face. “Hold tight, Felt—I’ll get us—”

SMASH! 

Felt cried out as a powerful impact ripped her from Subaru’s grasp, sending her flying helplessly through the air. She slammed hard into the far wall, the violent collision knocking what little strength remained completely from her body.

Through fading consciousness, her vision blurred as a massive, hulking gray figure loomed ominously in the shattered corridor. She fought desperately to keep her eyes open, to call out a warning, anything—but her body wouldn’t obey.

Then the darkness took her.

---

Subaru staggered to his feet, head spinning from the impact, only to be greeted by the thundering snort of a massive gray beast. At first glance, it looked like a hippo—but Subaru knew better. A wagpig. And riding atop the grotesque creature, wearing the familiar face of Petra, was Meili.

“Good Rock Pig!” Meili cooed in Petra’s cheerful tone, swinging her legs playfully. “Subaru, why’d you have to show up so early? Everyone’s ruining Mama’s fun tonight.”

Subaru’s eyes darted to where Felt lay motionless against the far wall. His grip tightened on his sword, rage simmering in his chest. The wagpig pawed at the ground, snorting, preparing to charge again.

He was already calculating how much fire it would take to roast the thing alive when another sound shattered the air—crash! Windows behind him exploded inward as a wave of winged mice and wolgarms poured through the opening, boxing him in.

“Good job, Meili,” Elsa purred from behind, still in Frederica’s form. “Now… let’s see how long you last.”

Subaru clenched his jaw. The odds were stacked—hard. Trapped between a demonic beast, two assassins, and a small army of witchbeasts, only one thing could have made it worse: Capella.

But the distant explosions echoing from the direction of Arlam made him pause. Someone else has her attention…

“Well,” Subaru muttered, adjusting his stance. “I can’t say this is going well.”

“That’s the spirit, Subaru!” Meili beamed. “Pig Rock—let’s play!”

He didn’t hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, Subaru launched a roaring jet of fire at the wagpig and Meili, while simultaneously sending a volley of Minya spiraling into the swarm of wolgarms and mice. The resulting burst of chaos gave him just enough cover to dive to Felt’s side, throw her over his shoulder, and bolt.

His lungs burned as he sprinted down the corridor, flinging streaks of lightning behind him to keep the assassins at bay.

“No, you don’t!” came Elsa’s voice—still disguised as Frederica’s—cutting through the smoke.

Subaru twisted mid-run, raising his blade just in time to deflect her first strike. The second came faster—too fast—and he could already feel the cold bite of steel aiming for his throat.

This is it…

WHAM.

Something huge and striped barreled into her from the side, slamming her into the wall with bone-cracking force.

Subaru skidded to a stop, eyes wide as the dust cleared—and there, standing tall between him and the stunned assassin, was Garfiel.

Garfiel cracked his neck, golden eyes blazing. “Say somethin’, bastard.”

“What?” Subaru blinked, then quickly remembered, breath catching. “Appas taste good.”

Garfiel grinned. “Good.”

He turned to Elsa, his expression hard as stone. “So. You’re the bitch wearin’ my sis’s face. Bad call.”

Elsa staggered to her feet, blood streaking down her face where Garfiel’s blow had landed. Yet her smile didn’t waver—it only widened.

“Oh? Another troublesome man,” she purred, licking blood from her lip. “I must say, you’re quite the brute. To strike your sister’s face so savagely… or do you secretly despise her that much?”

Garfiel didn’t flinch. He cracked his knuckles, golden eyes burning with fury.

“Seein’ as you and your pals are the reason she’s bleedin’ and barely standin’, don’t think wearin’ her face is gonna save you. That just makes it worse.” His grin was anything but kind. “Boss—get that girl outta here. This bitch is mine.”

Elsa chuckled, slowly rolling her shoulders. “Well, if you want to dance, big boy… then by all means.”

Subaru’s eyes darted between them. Garfiel was strong—maybe stronger than him. But Elsa was lethal, and with Meili lurking nearby, this wasn’t a fair fight. Still, Subaru looked down at Felt, unconscious in his arms, her face pale and limp. He didn’t have a choice.

“I’m coming back for you,” Subaru promised tightly.

“Ain’t gonna be nothin’ left of these fakers when ya do,” Garfiel shot back, a wicked smile tugging at his lips. “Get your ass movin’, boss.”

Without another word, Subaru turned and sprinted for the shattered remains of the garden wall, leaping into the open and breaking into a full run toward the tree line.

Behind him, the Roswaal manor was ablaze. Fire licked through broken windows, thick smoke pouring into the night. The sky was painted with embers, glowing like dying stars. In the far distance, the horizon over Arlam glowed a dangerous, pulsing orange.

Subaru didn’t know exactly what was happening, but as the flames rose behind him, dancing in the night like a funeral pyre, one thing was certain:

There wasn’t going to be a happy ending tonight.

Chapter 33: ARC 3 - Chapter 13: Ashes

ARC III

---

Chapter XIII:

Ashes

---

Rem glanced around in a panic. Garfiel had unceremoniously dumped Frederica and Petra onto her just moments ago, vanishing back toward the manor the second the sound of fighting started. Frederica and the younger maid weren’t heavy, not for someone like her—but the soft orange glow in the distance and the heat pressing at her back filled her with dread.

She’d wanted to go after Subaru. To fight by his side. But Garf hadn’t let her get a word in, and Frederica had passed out trying to restrain the stubborn oaf from doing something reckless. Again.

Behind her, both maids lay slumped against a tree trunk, pale and sickly. There would be time to tend their injuries—later. If there was a later.

“Rem!”

Her ears perked at the sound, heart leaping into her throat.

“Rem, where are you?!”

It was Subaru. She’d know his voice anywhere. But still, her instincts kicked in. She opened her mouth to call out—and stopped herself. They couldn’t be sure who was real anymore.

Then, through the trees, she saw him. Subaru, rushing out of the dark woods with Felt cradled in his arms.

“There you are,” Subaru gasped, panting heavily.

“Hold it there,” Rem warned, mana welling at her fingertips. Her eyes narrowed, ready to strike.

“Appas taste good!” he blurted.

She exhaled, the tension leaving her shoulders in an instant. “Subaru,” she breathed. “Is Garfiel okay?”

“He’s gotten himself into a mess,” Subaru muttered, kneeling to gently lay Felt beside Petra and Frederica. All three girls were out cold, and the worry in his eyes deepened.

Another explosion lit up the sky in the direction of the village. The soft orange glow grew brighter, smoke beginning to blot out the moonlight overhead.

“I haven’t seen Capella,” he said darkly, eyes locked on the horizon. “If I had to guess… she’s over there.”

Rem’s stomach sank. “Then who’s fighting her?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but the grim line of his jaw said more than words.

“I need to go back,” Subaru said, turning. “Beatrice and Garfiel are still in the manor. I know I’m asking a lot, Rem, but can you manage on your own? Get them to safety?”

“I’m stronger than I look,” she said firmly, squaring her stance. Still, her heart twisted. “But I hate that you’re going back alone.”

“There are witchbeasts in the woods. Probably more than we’ve seen,” he said grimly. “Keep your guard up. If anything comes for you—run. Don’t fight unless you have to.”

Rem nodded, and with no small effort, hefted the unconscious girls one by one. It was awkward, but she managed. Turning back, she caught Subaru watching her, his eyes lingering for just a moment.

Then he was gone, sprinting into the dark, his figure swallowed by smoke and fire.

Rem adjusted her grip, steadying her load. “Come back to me,” she whispered, and began the long walk toward safety.

---

Subaru tore through the darkened forest, his heart hammering in his chest as he raced uphill toward the manor. Breaking through the tree line, he was met by a blazing inferno: the mansion was engulfed in flames, embers spiraling upward like fiery rain.

Garfiel, hang on!

Charging through the gardens, Subaru could hear the faint echoes of combat from within the burning manor. That was a good sign—Garfiel was still fighting. Maybe together they’d have a chance.

Pooling mana into his legs, Subaru leapt upward from the garden path, crashing through an already shattered second-floor window. Glass and smoldering wood splintered around him, and immediately, thick smoke burned his eyes and filled his throat. He coughed violently, gasping, as acrid fumes clawed at his lungs.

“Beatrice…” he muttered, panic gripping him. The thought of the small spirit waiting helplessly, bound to a room destined to become her tomb, made him sick. She’d made it clear she was ready to die, but not like this—not burned alive in a collapsing building. But there was no time to dwell on it. First things first.

A harsh grunt echoed nearby. “That all ya got…?” Garfiel’s voice sounded ragged, strained.

There!

Subaru rushed toward the voice, kicking open a partially charred door, revealing a half-collapsed room lit with an infernal orange glow. Garfiel was hunched, clutching a bloody right arm, breathing heavily. Opposite him stood Elsa, still wearing Frederica’s face, bloodied but smiling eerily, eyes gleaming in delight.

“Far from it,” Elsa cooed, her voice a dark melody. Her gaze flicked sharply to Subaru, her smirk growing wider. “My, how rude of you to interrupt our dance.”

Subaru didn’t hesitate. “Sorry to disappoint.” With a sharp flick of his sword, a crescent blade of wind sliced through the smoky air, aiming straight at her.

Elsa twisted gracefully, dodging the attack—but Subaru’s diversion gave Garfiel the opening he needed. In a blur, Garfiel lunged forward, landing a blow so fierce Subaru heard bones crack. Elsa flew backward, crashing violently through the charred remains of a wall.

But Garfiel stumbled, gripping his shoulder where fresh blood bloomed across his clothes. Elsa had managed a counterstrike even as he struck her.

“Garfiel! You okay?” Subaru called out, worry tightening his chest.

The demi-human growled, glaring at his bloodied hand. “Ain’t the worst this bitch has given me.”

Subaru glanced at the broken wall Elsa had vanished through. “Pretty sure you caved her skull in.”

“Yeah, third time I’ve done it,” Garfiel growled bitterly. “She just won’t stay dead. Damn vampire or somethin’.”

Subaru blinked sharply. “A cursed doll?”

“Yeah, that,” Garfiel snapped impatiently. “Point is, killin’ her ain’t easy.”

Subaru glanced quickly around the smoky ruins. “And the other one?”

“Little brat’s out cold,” Garfiel replied, wincing and holding a deep wound at his side. “Her pet pig’s tougher than it looks. Elas almost split me open when I snapped it’s neck.”

Subaru grimaced. A little deeper, and Elsa would’ve gutted Garfiel like a fish. But there was no more time to rest or strategize—the floor beneath their feet suddenly cracked and gave way.

“Look out!”

The pair plummeted to the ground floor, Subaru instinctively gathering mana. A fierce bolt of lightning erupted downward, clearing debris as he landed heavily, rolling to avoid breaking his legs. Through the haze of smoke and flame, the false Frederica emerged again, grinning wickedly.

“You two are just the absolute worst,” Elsa mocked, eyes reflecting the burning chaos. Around them, the mansion groaned and shuddered, the roar of fire growing louder. Walls buckled under the relentless heat, threatening to bury them at any moment.

Smoke seared Subaru’s throat. Without mana strengthening his lungs, he knew he’d have already collapsed. Beside him, Garfiel rose shakily, fists clenched and fangs bared.

“We’ll see who’s worse off when this is done,” Garfiel snarled.

Subaru tightened his grip on his sword, firelight glinting off its blade. Elsa stepped forward through the flames, blades gleaming, still smiling.

“Then let’s dance until the manor falls around us.”

“We need to end this now,” Subaru gasped, struggling for breath amid the choking smoke. “Beatrice is still here—if the manor burns, she’s done for!”

Garfiel cast a brief glance at Subaru, then flashed a sharp-toothed grin. “Then ya better go find your friend, boss. You've cut into my fight enough already.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Subaru snapped. “You’re badly hurt. If anything—”

“If nothin’!” Garfiel snarled, golden eyes flashing fiercely. “This bitch wanted to kill my sister and thinks wearin’ her face’ll stop me. So go—find your friend. This one’s mine.” He cracked his knuckles, bloodied but defiant. “’Sides, I’m just catchin’ my second wind.”

Suddenly, a flicker of movement made Subaru spin. Elsa lunged from the smoke, blade aimed straight for his throat. With barely enough time to react, Subaru raised his sword, steel colliding with a shower of sparks mere inches from his neck. Elsa’s eyes gleamed hungrily, her grin sinister even as Garfiel lunged forward, kicking her viciously back into the flames.

“You boys think I’ll just let you chat?” Elsa purred, licking blood from her lips as she stood again, unfazed by the burning chaos. “It’s rude to ignore your dance partner, you know.”

“Go!” Garfiel roared, charging her once more, fists striking furiously through smoke and embers.

Subaru hesitated for only a heartbeat before a massive section of the ceiling crashed down between them, sending embers and debris flying in all directions. The way back was sealed—Garfiel was on his own.

Gritting his teeth, Subaru turned sharply, eyes stinging from the smoke, searching desperately for an untouched door amid the fiery wreckage.

Hang on, Beatrice—I’m coming!

---

Emilia woke with a sharp pain pulsing in her head. A rush of memories slammed into her consciousness, relentless and overwhelming.

“Guese…” she gasped, covering her mouth to stifle the cry that threatened to escape.

She vividly recalled Subaru—or rather Guese—speaking to her earlier. She’d panicked, lost herself, and then... then…

“Puck!” Her trembling fingers gripped the green crystal at her neck, only to find it cracked. The spirit within had vanished, leaving behind a hollow emptiness that gnawed deep in her chest. Fear surged, her heart thundering painfully against her ribs.

“I had to end our contract,” Puck’s voice echoed gently, yet sorrowfully, in her mind. “It was the only way you'd remember. I will always love you, Lia.”

“Puck, you liar…” Tears blurred her vision, spilling freely down her cheeks. “Why did you leave me?”

Curling tightly into a ball on her bed, she sobbed quietly, rocked by vivid flashes of memories—Mother Fortuna, Guese, Archi, the smiling faces from the forest. Each memory was sharp, beautiful, and terribly painful.

“No,” she whispered shakily, clutching at the fragments of her courage. “I—I can’t…”

“Emilia,” Guese’s voice echoed again through Subaru’s familiar tone, “you must take the trial. Not just for these people, but for yourself.”

Taking a ragged breath, Emilia forced herself to rise, her vision swimming as she stood. Glancing outside, she saw the darkness broken by tiny flickering torchlights scattered throughout the Sanctuary woods. Voices drifted to her ears, anxious cries for Felt, Rem, Subaru, Roswaal, and even Garfiel.

What’s going on? Her stomach twisted anxiously.

She wiped at her damp eyes, stepped out into the cool night air, and shivered lightly as the chilly breeze touched her skin.

“Lady Emilia.”

Startled, Emilia turned swiftly to find a petite elf girl with pink hair dressed in black staring calmly up at her. Emilia recognized the face, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen her before.

“D-Do I know you?” she asked uncertainly.

“No, not really,” the girl replied evenly. “I am Ryuzu Bilma.”

“And I am Ryuzu Alma,” a second voice said softly from behind Emilia.

She spun around, eyes wide, seeing another identical girl standing quietly.

“And I am Ryuzu Delma,” announced a third girl, stepping from the shadows to join her sisters.

“Oh…” Emilia blinked in surprise. “I didn’t realize there were so many sisters here. Your poor mother must have had such a difficult time raising you all.”

Bilma sighed gently, shaking her head. “I could explain precisely how we came into existence, but there are more urgent matters now. You were visited earlier by Petelguese, were you not?”

Emilia flinched visibly, trembling under the weight of her returned memories. “Yes... yes, I was.”

“I see. Then everything is proceeding as intended, thus far,” Bilma murmured thoughtfully. “Have you seen Young Gar or Young Su since waking?”

“N-No…” Emilia felt sudden dread pierce her heart. “Are they in danger?”

“They most certainly are,” Bilma replied calmly. “Though I was assured things will turn out well, so my worry is minimal. The crucial task now falls to you.”

“Me?” Emilia’s voice shook slightly, instinctively stepping back. “What do you mean, exactly?”

“You must face the trials,” Bilma explained firmly. “All three of them. Tonight.”

Emilia’s heart skipped a painful beat. The trials. After everything tonight—Puck’s departure, the villagers’ frantic cries in the dark—how could she possibly succeed? She gripped the cracked crystal necklace tightly, her fingers quivering violently.

“I… I’m not sure I can do it,” she admitted weakly.

“You can,” Bilma encouraged, her voice softening slightly. “The first trial is hardest, but given what you’ve just remembered, it should be within your power to overcome it now.”

“And... if I refuse?” Emilia asked hesitantly, her gaze wary.

“Then we will take you there by force if necessary,” Alma said bluntly. “Though I doubt that will be needed. You know better than anyone—you have a duty to protect these people.”

Emilia swallowed, feeling the heavy weight of their expectations pressing upon her shoulders. Drawing a shuddering breath, she nodded slowly, summoning every ounce of strength she could muster.

Passing through the village toward the tomb, Emilia felt her heart hammering in her chest. The distant shouts of villagers searching desperately for their missing companions echoed through the night. She had half a mind to suggest pausing the trial to help with the search, but the stern expressions of Bilma and her duplicates made it clear that such a delay wasn’t an option.

Everything seemed to blur around her, and before Emilia realized it, she was standing at the base of the tomb’s crumbling steps. Gazing upward at the moonlit ruin, anxiety tightened her chest. Doubt gnawed at her—was she truly prepared? So much had changed, so much was uncertain…

“You’re ready,” Bilma reassured gently.

Emilia nodded, though the encouragement of a girl she’d just met was scarcely comforting.

Guese’s words echoed in her mind: “You must face your past… I don’t remember what happened myself, Emilia, but you can’t stay here forever; only you can pass the trial. I’m trusting you with everything.”

She inhaled deeply, drawing courage from his memory. “Okay… I can do this… Puck… Guese… I won’t let you down.”

Emilia ascended the stairs, each step heavy and exhausting, feeling as though she climbed a towering mountain. Reaching the archway, she paused briefly before stepping into the tomb’s interior.

The world shifted abruptly around her.

“Hello there.”

Blinking rapidly, Emilia found herself standing within a familiar forest, memories flooding her senses. Echidna, Mother Fortuna—each painful recollection surged forward, threatening to overwhelm her. She steadied herself, determined, and turned to face the voice that had greeted her. Instead of the Witch of Greed, however, another figure stood there entirely.

Emilia’s brow furrowed with confusion. “Who are you?”

Before her stood a young woman clad in a form-fitting purple gown beneath a flowing white coat. Golden hair cascaded in a ponytail, and her bright blue eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“When this job was left to me… I didn’t think it would be this hard,” the girl admitted, her voice trembling slightly. She clenched her fists, gathering resolve. “I’m going to keep it together… I promise.”

“I’m sorry… but who exactly are you?” Emilia asked carefully.

The girl grimaced, visibly flustered. “Well… Sekhmet is too lazy. Daphne would probably try to eat you… Typhon would be a complete disaster, and Carmilla would likely be too frightened to even approach you. Damn it all!” She stomped her foot in irritation. “Please don’t ask too many questions! It’s already embarrassing enough that you’re seeing my face, okay?”

“See your face?” Emilia repeated uncertainly, confusion plain on her face. The last time she’d stood in this place, it had been the cold, unfeeling Witch of Greed who’d awaited her. But now this woman stood there, flustered and naming off others she didn’t know. “You said… the trials were left to you? I don’t understand.”

“I told you not to ask too many questions!” the girl snapped irritably, before quickly calming herself with a sigh. “Let’s just move on already. I’m supposed to be an unbiased moderator, but I’ll admit—I’m rooting for you. Just don’t think I’ll let you pass easily, so please try to take this seriously!”

Emilia studied her uncertainly for a moment. She didn’t entirely know what to make of the stranger’s supportive attitude. Yet, compared to Echidna’s cold mockery, it was reassuring to have someone in her corner who wouldn’t ridicule her pain.

“Alright,” Emilia said, drawing a deep breath and gathering her courage. “I’ll give it my best. Let’s begin.”

---

Everything was ablaze. Subaru kicked in door after door, desperately searching for that bratty little spirit. After all they'd been through, there was no way he'd let her die—not here, not now.

“Damn it, Beatrice, stop hiding!” he shouted, coughing and gasping as he rushed down the smoke-filled corridor. His frantic gaze swept across the burning hall, seeking another door to wrench open. Pivoting sharply, he dashed toward the second floor, desperate for any threshold that might lead him to her.

Smoke stung his eyes, and the heat scorched his skin. His clothing was singed and fraying in dozens of places. The grim possibility crossed his mind: this loop might end with him trapped beneath burning debris, roasted alive. He'd endured flames before—it was a death he never wanted to experience again.

As he crested the staircase, a violent crash shattered the outer wall, sending fragments flying inward. Fresh air surged inside, feeding the flames and intensifying the heat. Shielding himself from the scorching wind, Subaru squinted through the haze, trying to see what had burst into the manor. He silently hoped it wasn't Rem coming after him.

“What an absolute pain in my ass,” a figure groaned, standing amidst the debris.

Subaru froze, his grip tightening instinctively around his sword. His throat went dry as he recognized the sinister silhouette of the Sin Archbishop of Lust. Cappella brushed soot from her shoulder lazily, her gaze settling upon him with growing amusement.

“Oh? When did the fresh meat show up?”

Subaru immediately lifted his sword, mana crackling along the blade as he prepared a lightning slash. Before he could strike, another figure smashed into the manor, hurtling Cappella through a wall and out of sight.

“Ahhh, Subaru. I was hoping the source of this lovely fire would be youuuu.”

Subaru’s heart froze. He stared in disbelief at the smirking face that appeared through the swirling smoke.

“You!” Subaru snarled, pure venom dripping from his voice.

“No time for pleasantries, I'm afraid,” Roswaal said casually, glancing around with a maddeningly calm expression. “If you truly wish to save dear Miss Beatrice, I’d advise you to hurry. Meanwhile, please excuse me—I have an uninvited guest who’s quite determined to end my life.”

With a sly smile, the mage turned and charged deeper into the collapsing mansion. Another explosion reverberated through the building, sending even more debris tumbling down.

Why the hell is HE here?! Subaru thought bitterly, teeth clenched in fury and confusion. Yet, pieces began clicking into place. The explosions near Arlam, Cappella’s delayed arrival—Roswaal had been behind it all. But why? How did this fit into his twisted plans? And now Roswaal had urged Subaru to save Beatrice?

Dodging a crashing beam, Subaru knew he was running out of time. With luck, Capella and Roswaal would tear each other apart. Charging forward through the thick smoke, Subaru spotted a closet door, miraculously untouched by flames. Gritting his teeth, he dashed over and grabbed the scorching brass handle, wrenching the door open despite the blistering pain that shot through his palms.

Inside the threshold sat Beatrice, clutching her precious book like a lifeline, eyes filled with despair. Subaru’s chest tightened painfully at the sight.

“Beatrice!” he shouted, lunging forward as the floorboards behind him collapsed in a fiery heap.

He hit the library’s floor, gasping as the door slammed shut behind him, vanishing from existence. Flames erupted all around them, consuming bookshelves and sending black, magical fractures spiraling through the air. The Forbidden Library was falling apart—time was nearly out.

“You…you stupid girl,” Subaru wheezed, forcing himself upright despite his burnt and bloodied hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re incredibly persistent, I suppose,” Beatrice murmured, lifting her sad, vacant gaze to meet his.

“What, did you really think I’d let you die?” Subaru growled, sheathing his blade unsteadily. “I’m a stubborn bastard, Beatrice. I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

Beatrice stared at him, a vulnerable longing flickering in her eyes—a look he’d never quite seen before. Despite her words, he knew she wasn’t entirely lost; she was just very far away.

“It doesn’t matter,” Beatrice whispered with a bitter pout. “Whoever set this fire…they can be ‘That Person,’ I suppose. Go. Leave now before you become trapped here with me.”

“No. I’m not leaving—not without you,” Subaru said fiercely, standing his ground amidst the raging flames. “You don’t need ‘That Person,’ Beatrice. You never did.”

“We’ve already had this conversation!” she shouted, wiping fresh tears angrily from her eyes.

Subaru planted his feet firmly, his decision absolute. If he failed now, he was prepared to die right here, right now.

“I’m not leaving,” Subaru declared, voice trembling with emotion. “Not even if it means my death. So, I’m begging you—don’t just save yourself, save me too!”

Beatrice’s eyes narrowed sadly. “If you truly wish to be saved, then so be it.”

Subaru braced himself. “El Roota!”

The spell hit him—a force that had hurled him away countless times before—but this time, Subaru remained anchored in place. He had rarely used Yang magic, but desperate reading had left him familiar with this binding spell. Now, rooted firmly against her push, it was his only lifeline.

Beatrice looked stunned and frustrated as Subaru slid backward just inches instead of hurtling from the room.

“I’m…not…going…anywhere!” Subaru ground out through clenched teeth, struggling fiercely to maintain the spell as the invisible power surged, becoming more violent with each passing second.

“Why do you insist on dying alongside someone as worthless as me, I suppose?!” Beatrice screamed, rising to her feet, her hand raised, the wind roaring around her. She stepped closer, her magical pressure becoming nearly unbearable. “I just want peace! What makes you think I even want saving?!”

Despite his spell, Subaru’s boots began slipping across the floor. Gasping with exertion, he drew his sword again and slammed it into the wooden boards, anchoring himself desperately as he weathered her furious gale. Every muscle burned with the strain, the storm battering him relentlessly.

“I can’t accept that!” Subaru roared, his sword dragging a deep gouge as he skidded back another agonizing inch. “I won’t let you die!”

“Even if that’s my wish?!” Beatrice shouted, trembling only inches away, tears streaming down her anguished face. “You barely even know me! Do you honestly think you can save me from centuries of suffering?! From the torment of my endless hell?! Who do you think you are, I suppose!”

“I don’t want you to be alone!” Subaru shouted, voice breaking against the fierce gale. “Not even at the very end! No one deserves that! To suffer for centuries and then end your life exactly as you lived it?! I’d have to be heartless not to feel something!”

The tempest vanished as suddenly as it began. Subaru, who’d been pushing forward so fiercely, collapsed face-first onto the floor with a sharp grunt. He gasped for breath, waves of relief flooding through his trembling body.

“You… you don’t want me to be alone?” Beatrice’s voice was a broken whisper, thick with anguish. “Then where were you all these years, I suppose?”

Subaru struggled back onto his feet, pulling his sword free from the splintered wood. “I can’t change the past, Beatrice. No one can. But you—you could have left this place at any moment. You could’ve abandoned this library years ago. Yet you stayed, desperately waiting for someone to walk alongside you, to tear away your contract.”

His gaze softened, sorrow flickering behind his eyes. “I understand at least part of that pain. Roswaal has had me trapped beneath his thumb. He still does, in a way. I only made it this far by relying on others—Emilia, Otto, Felt, even Petelgeuse. So when I say this, I mean it deeply, and I wouldn’t offer this to anyone I wasn’t certain was truly good. I want to make a contract with you.”

“A c-contract?” Beatrice’s voice cracked painfully, fresh tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Why?! Why would you offer something like that to me?!”

Subaru stood firm amidst the burning library, as flames consumed shelves of books, ash swirling, smoke choking the air, and the dark cracks spreading ominously around them. His heart ached painfully, seeing her clutching that book, the one companion she'd relied upon for so long.

“Because you deserve happiness,” Subaru said, voice firm with conviction. “Someday, yes—I will die. But how can you call this living, Beatrice? You haven’t lived, not truly. I want to see you smile, to see you pout and complain, and even cry when it’s finally over.” He extended his hand towards her, unwavering despite the chaos around them. “You’re a good person. You saved us in that forest when you had no obligation to. I know I can’t face what lies ahead alone. Without you, I won’t make it.”

His eyes met hers with earnest intensity. “I need you, Beatrice—just as much as you need me. Please…choose me. Not because I’m ‘That Person,’ but because it’s what you want. I'll never accept that title. I'll only ever be Natsuki Subaru.”

“You won’t put me first—you won’t, I suppose!” Beatrice shook her head frantically, her voice cracking under the weight of centuries of sorrow. “You said it yourself—you’ll die eventually, and I’ll be all alone again!”

“You’ll have me today, tomorrow, and every day until my story reaches its end,” Subaru insisted gently, voice resolute. “And you’ll have every memory we make together along the way. I’ll make sure those memories are something you never forget. Someone as smart and cute as you—I’m sure you’ll find others, too. You won’t be alone.”

“But… you’re not ‘That Person’...” Beatrice sobbed, her tiny frame trembling as she stood at the edge of despair.

“I know,” Subaru said firmly, taking a step closer. “And I don’t care. Please, choose me.”

“I don’t want to be alone again!” Beatrice cried desperately. “Someday soon, you’ll leave me too!”

“Then treasure today. And tomorrow. Each new day will be more than what you had yesterday—more than I ever had yesterday.”

Subaru felt the scorching flames pressing in, heat licking at his back, smoke choking the air. He held his ground without fear, hand extended patiently toward her. Beatrice’s eyes flickered anxiously as the fire closed tighter around them, but Subaru’s steady gaze never faltered.

“I’m not afraid,” he declared softly, “because I believe in you. You’ve stood before that door all this time, waiting desperately for someone—anyone—to take your hand and pull you away from this place. Well, here he is! Not ‘That Person,’ just a foolish, arrogant idiot standing amidst fire and ruin—because of you. For you! So please… choose me!”

Beatrice stared at Subaru, eyes wide, shimmering with tears. Something inside her finally broke free, like the loosening of a chain she’d borne for centuries. The black tome fell from her hands, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. Then, before she knew it, Beatrice leapt forward, clutching Subaru’s hand as if it were the most precious thing she’d ever held. Subaru held her tightly, their fingers intertwined as she sobbed uncontrollably into his soot-covered shirt.

A brilliant purple glow enveloped them, washing away the inferno, carrying them backward through a rush of wind and starlight. Flames and the ruin of the mansion receded swiftly behind them, fading into the night.

“Subaru! Subaru! Subaru!” Beatrice cried, clinging to him, repeating his name through tears born of centuries of loneliness finally ending. For the first time in generations, she’d step out of that pit of despair. 

Chapter 34: ARC 3 - Chapter 14: The Path Forward

ARC III

---

Chapter XIV:

The Path Forward

---

When the beam of light deposited Subaru and Beatrice back in the Sanctuary, Subaru braced himself for chaos—but instead, the pair gently landed at the base of the tomb's steps, facing a small gathering of startled villagers.

“Well, I expected… something worse,” Subaru muttered, glancing around in confusion.

“Betty was prepared for trouble as well, I suppose,” Beatrice agreed, gripping his hand tightly as if worried he'd vanish the moment she let go.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, villagers exchanging uneasy glances at the sudden, inexplicable appearance of the two. Subaru couldn't blame them. To their knowledge, he’d spent the past few hours searching the forest for Felt, and now he stood there, hand-in-hand with the manor’s rarely-seen librarian.

“Subaru!”

From among the villagers, Ram stormed toward them, her expression tight with anger. She hesitated upon noticing Beatrice, her frustration briefly replaced by surprise.

“Miss Beatrice? Why are you here?” Ram asked sharply, eyeing the spirit suspiciously. “Shouldn’t you be at the manor?”

“Betty grew bored of her books, so she formed a contract with Subaru, I suppose,” Beatrice declared, lifting her chin proudly.

“You… formed a contract… with Subaru?” Ram repeated slowly, disbelief clear in her voice. “When?!”

“About five minutes ago, I suppose,” Beatrice replied casually.

Ram's eyes narrowed as she processed this revelation. Subaru could practically see the gears turning in her mind, struggling to comprehend how he’d managed to reach the manor, rescue Beatrice, form a contract, and return—all in such a short span of time.

“Anyway, if you’re still worried about that bastard Roswaal, don’t be,” Subaru said bitterly, unable to hide his disdain. “Your master is back at the manor—or what's left of it—fighting the Sin Archbishop of Lust.”

This did not reassure Ram. Her face turned pale, eyes widening in sudden alarm. “In… his condition?”

“I wouldn’t start planning his funeral yet,” Subaru muttered, even if a small, spiteful part of him wouldn’t have minded seeing Roswaal gone—provided Arlam didn't suffer Cappella’s wrath as a result. “He was handling himself when I saw him.”

Ram relaxed slightly, though the crowd around them began murmuring anxiously at the mention of a Sin Archbishop running rampant near their homes.

Before Subaru could say anything else, the villagers parted abruptly. Flam and Grassis hurried up the steps toward him, Otto trailing just behind them, clearly out of breath.

“Mr. Natsuki! There you are!” Otto gasped.

“Felt is still missing!” the twins cried out together. “Where have you been?!”

Subaru sighed deeply. It had been a grueling night, and he still worried those demonic rabbits might show their faces at any moment—though, mercifully, they hadn't appeared yet.

“Felt’s safe. We got transported to the manor, just like she did,” Subaru explained. “She’s with Rem now, and they’re both fine.” He then turned to Otto, frowning seriously. “Otto, I need you to head back and—”

Before Subaru could finish, something large and heavy slammed into his side, knocking him flat on his back.

“Raaaa!” Patrasche roared affectionately, nuzzling and pecking at Subaru frantically.

“H-hey! Get off him! He’s mine to fuss over, I suppose!” Beatrice cried indignantly, trying—and failing—to push the excited earth dragon off Subaru. Her attempts were barely more than gentle pats.

“Um… Not to interrupt this touching reunion,” Otto said hesitantly, watching Beatrice and Patrasche squabble over Subaru, “but what exactly am I supposed to be doing?”

Subaru groaned beneath Patrasche’s affectionate assault. “Just—just go and get Felt and the others,” he managed weakly.

“Right… Of course,” Otto replied slowly, still staring awkwardly. “I’ll just… go get the cart…”

“We’re coming too!” Flam and Grassis said firmly, determination clear in their voices as they hurried after Otto.

With considerable effort, Subaru pushed himself out from under the distracted Patrasche and scrambled back to his feet, gasping heavily. The full weight of the night's events was now catching up to him, leaving his body feeling battered and weak. If the demonic rabbits decided to appear now, Subaru doubted he’d be much help in his current state. On the bright side, at least Beatrice was finally with him.

During their brief flight, she’d officially formed a contract with him—a genuine, uncomplicated agreement, with no hidden conditions or tricks. Not that Subaru had doubted Beatrice, but it was comforting nonetheless. For her part, she seemed happier than Subaru had ever imagined possible, as if an immense weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders.

The contract itself was simple enough. Beatrice was now his contracted spirit, though she’d explained a few caveats: Subaru could no longer form contracts with other spirits, and Beatrice couldn't gather mana from the atmosphere, meaning she would have to borrow from Subaru’s own supply.

He considered these drawbacks minor inconveniences, although he’d briefly worried about Petelgeuse. After contracting with Beatrice, Subaru hadn't noticed any obvious changes to himself, but when he’d attempted to summon the Unseen Hands, nothing had happened. Since Petelgeuse had taken control of his body—and done Dragon-only-knew what—the former Archbishop had fallen silent, leaving Subaru with far too many unanswered questions.

I’ve got plenty to discuss with that bastard, Subaru thought bitterly. And I’ll need to tell Beatrice everything too. Everything except Return by Death, anyway.

“Raaaaa!” Patrasche complained indignantly, finally noticing Subaru had escaped her reach.

Beatrice quickly rushed to Subaru’s side, grasping his free hand possessively and shooting the earth dragon a fierce glare. “You’ll have to go through me if you want to tackle him again, I suppose.”

Subaru gave her an exasperated look. “Then why did you let her do it the first time?”

Beatrice huffed, turning up her nose slightly. “Betty thought you might have deserved it. However, once is more than enough punishment, I suppose.”

“I guess asking you not to be harsh is too much to expect,” Subaru chuckled lightly.

“So long as you keep your attention here, I can be sweeter, I suppose,” Beatrice replied quickly.

Subaru glanced over the gathered crowd, puzzled by why they remained there. Turning his attention back toward the tomb, he noted its faint blue glow, a clear sign that someone was inside taking the trial. A sudden realization struck him—Emilia must be inside, facing the trial herself.

“How long has she been in there?” Subaru wondered aloud, worry seeping into his voice. He hoped she wasn’t curled up on the tomb’s floor, having another panic attack. Now that his qualification had been revoked, he wouldn’t be able to rush inside to rescue her.

“Don’t worry, Young Su, she has already emerged twice now.”

Surprised, Subaru turned to see Bilma standing quietly at his side. He hadn’t even noticed her approach, though he guessed she'd probably been close by all along.

“You…” Beatrice murmured softly, sadness touching her expression briefly before she frowned. “Just another clone, I suppose.”

“Yes, I apologize, Lady Beatrice,” Bilma replied gently, lowering her eyes slightly.

“You two know each other?” Subaru asked curiously, though he quickly realized it probably wasn’t unusual. Given their mutual connection to Echidna, their familiarity shouldn’t have been surprising.

“No,” Bilma corrected gently, shaking her head. “From what I understand, Lady Beatrice was close with Ryuzu Meyer. My respect comes from that relationship.”

“Betty has... complicated feelings about Ryuzu’s clones, I suppose,” Beatrice admitted quietly, her eyes downcast.

“I can appreciate that,” Subaru acknowledged with a nod. His focus shifted back quickly, concern returning. “But, about Emilia—you mentioned she emerged twice already? She wasn’t handling things very well the last time I saw her. I just hope she isn’t pushing herself too hard.”

Bilma gave a reassuring nod. “She has successfully completed the first two trials already. I anticipate she’ll soon break the barrier entirely.”

A weight seemed to lift off Subaru’s shoulders at that news. If Bilma was right, then his contract with Roswaal would finally come to an end. He’d won—or at least, he was very close. Even if the demonic rabbits appeared now, Subaru felt confident that, given everyone present, they could handle them.

“Tell me, Young Su,” Bilma continued calmly, “I’m aware you were transported back to the manor. How is Young Gar?”

“Garfiel? I… honestly, I don’t know,” Subaru confessed reluctantly. When they'd separated, Garfiel had been battling Elsa—still disguised as Frederica—and for all Subaru knew, Garf might already be lying dead beneath the manor’s smoldering ruins.

“He is fine, I suppose,” Beatrice announced abruptly, interrupting his grim train of thought.

Subaru turned, blinking in surprise. “How do you know that?”

“I was still aware of all the remaining door crossings. When I attempted to expel you from my library, I noticed him stumbling out through the front door. It was one of only two doors remaining by that point, I suppose.”

Subaru sighed deeply, visibly relieved. “I’m a bit afraid to ask this, but… did you happen to notice what became of Roswaal or Capella?”

“I don’t know anything about that, I suppose,” Beatrice replied flatly.

The tomb's soft blue glow flickered momentarily, then abruptly ceased. Audible gasps echoed from the gathered half-blood villagers, swiftly giving way to shouts and cheers of joy. Subaru blinked, momentarily confused by their reaction.

“Did... did she do it?” Subaru asked cautiously.

Bilma released a heavy sigh—one that sounded as if it had been held back far too long. “It appears so.”

“How can you be so sure?” Subaru had no clear idea how challenging the final trial truly was.

“The oppressive feeling the barrier emitted has vanished completely,” Bilma explained gently. “We all sensed the moment it fell.”

Now that he focused, Subaru realized the faint magical bond with Roswaal had finally disappeared completely. Relief flooded him at that realization. It felt as though the nightmare he'd endured was finally nearing its conclusion.

“I must find the others now. Excuse me, Young Su.” Subaru watched as the clone of Ryuzu Meyer quietly departed.

All around, residents of the Sanctuary were embracing each other, some laughing joyfully while others shed tears of relief. However, Subaru noticed a few among them appeared conflicted, even afraid. Though they seemed to be in the minority, he knew there were those who had reservations about the barrier coming down. Still, he hoped they would soon accept the new reality.

Moments later, Emilia emerged from the tomb. Her expression was mixed—happy, yet clearly troubled. Subaru suspected that whatever she had experienced inside the trial had deeply shaken her.

“I want to go inside, I suppose,” Beatrice murmured softly, her eyes carrying a quiet sadness.

“Why is that?” Subaru asked gently.

“Mother is buried inside... Even if Betty had a complicated relationship with her, she was still Mother,” Beatrice explained softly.

“Of course,” Subaru nodded understandingly, feeling her reluctantly release his hand.

As Beatrice slowly ascended the steps toward the tomb, Emilia watched her approach with visible confusion. After exchanging a few brief words with the spirit, Emilia's gaze moved to Subaru, a question evident in her eyes. Beatrice continued alone into the tomb, disappearing within moments.

Emilia began descending the steps, only to be quickly surrounded by the exuberant villagers. Subaru briefly considered leaving her be, but he knew there were urgent matters they needed to discuss. Ultimately, it was Ram who cleared a path through the excited crowd, allowing Subaru to approach Emilia directly.

“You did it,” he said warmly, offering her an encouraging smile. “Congratulations!”

Emilia nodded slowly, though hesitation lingered in her eyes. “Thank you, Subaru... but I have to ask—are you really... you? Or is it—”

“No, it’s me,” Subaru assured her quickly. “Subaru, I mean. I don't know exactly what happened between you two...”

Emilia shook her head slightly, her expression distant. “It's a long story, but Puck broke our contract. I... I don’t know where he is now. But thanks to him, my memories returned. It was the only reason I was finally able to face the trials. That, and... some words someone else said to me.”

Subaru nodded thoughtfully. It didn't surprise him to hear this, though he suspected Emilia wasn't fully aware of all that had transpired in the background. “Well, at least now we can get everyone home safely... wherever 'home' is. Roswaal’s manor burned down.”

“Burned down?” Emilia’s eyes widened. “Is that why Miss Beatrice formed a contract with you?”

“Partly,” Subaru admitted, scratching the back of his head. “It's a bit messier and far more complicated than just that. Speaking of complicated, we need to sit down and talk when Otto returns with the others.”

Emilia nodded slowly, determination setting into her expression as she glanced around at the celebrating villagers. “Yes. There are things I need to discuss with everyone as well.”

---

The next day and a half passed in a blur. Subaru remained vigilant for any sign of the rabbits' appearance, but the attack he dreaded never came. Villagers busied themselves gathering supplies and preparing for departure, although several residents decided to stay behind in the Sanctuary. Subaru couldn't blame them—prison or not, it was their home.

Emilia, aided by Ram, took charge of organizing the departure. The hostility once directed toward her by the Arlam villagers had completely vanished. Subaru was certain that this experience would bolster her candidacy, even if only slightly. More noticeably, Emilia's self-confidence seemed to have blossomed considerably.

For his part, Subaru spent time tending to Patrasche, who now kept a close, almost protective watch over him. He also undertook basic training with Beatrice, who eagerly assessed his capabilities. As it turned out, she was furious at how little Roswaal had taught him. When Subaru finally explained everything he'd previously been unable to tell her, Beatrice exploded with rage—swearing, stomping her feet, and repeatedly vowing to boil Roswaal alive. Subaru found some satisfaction in knowing she shared his anger toward the mage rather than making excuses for him.

On the evening of the second day, Otto returned—but he wasn't alone. Behind his carriage stretched a convoy of wagons escorted by several armored knights. Leading them was a red-haired man whose formidable reputation had yet to impress Subaru:

Reinhard.

"Where is he?!" Felt's voice echoed loudly as Otto’s carriage rolled to a stop. The door flew open, and she dashed out, immediately throwing herself into Subaru’s chest, hugging him fiercely. "You big, dumb idiot!" she huffed, her face buried in his shirt.

"I save your life and your first reaction is calling me an idiot? Glad to see you care," Subaru teased gently, chuckling as he patted her head. Unlike before, Felt made no move to swat his hand away. Subaru recalled how much she’d changed since Rom’s memories had been stolen.

"Hey! Stop clinging to Subaru like that! He belongs to Betty now, I suppose!" Beatrice snapped irritably, slamming shut the book she'd borrowed from Bilma.

"I had him first, you know! We grew up together!" Felt retorted, sticking her tongue out defiantly.

Subaru suddenly wished he were anywhere else. Caught between the two glaring blondes, he was certain sparks were about to fly. Being in the middle of their feud seemed a quick way to send him straight back to a reset.

"Subaru," Reinhard interrupted as he approached, immediately dropping to one knee and bowing his head deeply. "I owe you my eternal gratitude. I've failed completely as a knight. My responsibility was to protect Felt, and yet my other duties kept me from fulfilling that sacred vow. Had you not stepped in during my absence, all would have been lost."

Subaru stood, taken aback by Reinhard’s genuine remorse. He knew the knight was humble despite his immense power, yet the deep shame etched onto Reinhard’s face surprised him. Subaru vividly recalled what had happened—Felt’s scream, the agony… the sound of gnawing.

"I don’t forgive you," Subaru replied sternly.

Reinhard visibly flinched but nodded solemnly. "I understand. I have not yet earned forgiveness. But I promise you this: I will spend my life striving to earn it. You have my debt, Subaru."

Subaru considered scolding the man further but decided it would serve no purpose. "See that you do," he stated firmly.

Felt said nothing during the exchange. Rather, she appeared quietly pleased with Subaru’s response to her knight, clearly believing Reinhard had earned his scorn. Subaru wondered what matter had been so pressing as to keep Reinhard occupied for so long—whatever it was, surely it paled in comparison to the potential loss of Felt.

"On a more positive note," Reinhard continued, his tone shifting slightly, "one good thing did come out of these events. We captured one of the followers of the Sin Archbishop of Lust. There was some initial confusion, since she’s currently assuming the appearance of one of Lord Roswaal’s maids—a girl named Meili."

"She didn't escape then? Good," Subaru replied, his gaze drifting to the gathered caravan. "And Garfiel? Where is he?"

"He was severely injured, but he’s up and about now. Currently, he's with his sister Frederica and Roswaal’s other maid," Reinhard explained.

Subaru’s expression darkened. "Speaking of Roswaal, where exactly is that bastard?"

Reinhard’s brow furrowed slightly. "I was informed he would be here. Why?"

Subaru scowled, feeling a surge of frustration. Had Roswaal fled? That possibility deeply troubled him. If his former master had chosen to disappear after battling the Archbishop, did it mean he'd conceded? Reinhard’s presence removed the immediate threat of Subaru's death, meaning his reset point might have changed. Yet Roswaal hadn’t seemed the type to surrender or offer genuine help. So why disappear now?

"He was at the manor, fighting Capella, the Sin Archbishop of Lust," Subaru clarified.

Reinhard nodded thoughtfully, concern evident in his eyes. "That would explain why half the surrounding forest was destroyed—evidence of their battle. If there was no sign of Roswaal afterward, it's possible he was killed... or worse."

Subaru could only hope Reinhard was right. Still, given Roswaal’s abilities—even injured—it was difficult to imagine him easily defeated, even by an opponent as dangerous as Capella. Yet with everything that had transpired, anything seemed possible.

“Beatrice, could you go find Emilia and ask her to meet us at the ruined hall? Bring Ram as well,” Subaru requested, noticing the displeased pout on her face as Felt flashed a triumphant smirk. “Please?”

His contracted spirit sighed dramatically, clearly reluctant, but eventually stalked off in search of Emilia. Subaru realized it would take some getting used to—having Beatrice so persistently attached to him. Yet after the past months filled with danger, he wasn't about to complain about having someone as powerful as her by his side.

“So you’re alive too, boss?”

Turning to his left, Subaru saw Garfiel limping toward him, supported by Frederica. Bandages covered his torso, and although clearly injured, Subaru felt relieved to see him still upright and alive.

“Yeah,” Subaru replied, assessing Garfiel’s battered state. “You look like hell. What happened?”

“That Elsa bitch put up one hell of a fight. The whole damn place was comin' apart, and she just wouldn’t die. Had to crush her under that brat’s Pig Rock thing, or whatever it was,” Garfiel spat irritably. “She got her licks in, though. Had me worried you were cooked alive in the fire, but I figured that bright-ass beam of light shootin' across the sky was you. After that, I wasn’t worried.”

“He was extremely worried,” Frederica interjected calmly.

“Was not!” Garfiel snapped back with a growl. “I got way too much confidence in him to waste my time worryin’!”

Subaru chuckled, shaking his head, just as Rem rushed toward him. “Subaru!”

She was about to throw herself forward when Felt quickly raised a hand, frowning sternly. “I've had enough of people jumping into Subaru’s arms who aren’t me. If you wanna dote on him, you can do it from right over there, thank you very much!”

Subaru was a little thankful for Felt’s interruption—though it came with an unwelcome reminder. She no longer viewed him as a brotherly figure, but rather something more romantic. That shift had been gradual, but moments like this made it impossible to ignore. He wasn’t sure how she would handle what he needed to say in the hall. With a sigh, Subaru gestured for everyone to start heading that way—it was time to get everything out in the open. The only person who had heard the full truth so far was Beatrice. He trusted her with everything now; she was his contracted spirit, after all.

Otto and the twins hurried over to join the assembling group. Subaru saw no reason to turn them away—they were part of Felt’s camp, and at this point, everyone had earned a seat at the table.

By the time they arrived in the ruined hall, Emilia, Beatrice, and Ram were already waiting. Ram looked unwell. Subaru had noticed her unease over the past few days, and he suspected it stemmed from Roswaal’s disappearance. Rem stood close by, visibly concerned, and Subaru caught her glancing at her sister as Ram coughed into her sleeve.

“Well, here we all are,” Felt said, planting her hands on her hips. “So I guess it’s time we had a talk—camp to camp?”

“I agree,” Emilia said, fidgeting slightly as she rubbed her arm. “A lot has happened. Honestly, I’m not even sure I understand it all.”

“I can explain,” Subaru said. All eyes turned to him. It wasn’t surprising—he had been at the center of most of the chaos these past few weeks. No one even blinked at the idea that he’d be leading this conversation.

“Roswaal is a bastard,” Subaru began bluntly.

What followed was a careful, condensed recounting of everything that had transpired since the night he and Felt had first run into Emilia. Subaru found it difficult to maintain the timeline—looping memories often blurred together. He stuck to the main thread, the current loop. Some things had to be left out—like the fact that the Sin Archbishop of Sloth still echoed in his mind. Those who knew didn’t seem eager to share that detail either.

The revelation that Roswaal had manipulated Subaru, binding him into a contract and using him to orchestrate the revival of the Witch of Greed, Echidna, was met with stunned silence.

Felt’s fists clenched in fury.

Reinhard, to his credit, refrained from pointing out that he had warned them.

Rem’s expression flickered between concern, anger, and sorrow.

Ram, however, remained still—her face unreadable. It was as if the news didn’t surprise her… or didn’t matter. Beatrice didn’t miss it; she shot her a sharp glare, but said nothing.

Garfiel and Frederica both looked shaken. For Garfiel, it confirmed everything he had already distrusted. For Frederica, it felt like betrayal—her long service as a maid suddenly twisted into something cruel.

Though it was Emilia’s reaction that Subaru was most interested in. Roswaal’s backing had been essential to her candidacy. As he turned to see her face, Subaru wasn’t surprised by what he saw.

Anger.

“How… how could he do something so vile?!” Emilia cried, clutching the cracked crystal at her neck. “I trusted him! I knew he was a bit strange, but this… risking everyone’s lives like that?”

“But did he?” Ram interrupted calmly. “As Subaru said, Roswaal was at the manor, fighting the Sin Archbishop. He used Subaru to defeat the Cult and you to free the Sanctuary.”

“Ram, you can’t seriously defend him!” Rem exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief.

Ram shot her sister a cold glare. “Even if his methods were cruel and unorthodox—”

“Unorthodox?!” Felt snapped, stepping aggressively toward Ram. Flam quickly grabbed her by the arm, holding her back.

Ram continued unfazed. “Even if it was cruel, it resulted in a net benefit for everyone.”

“Petra and I were drugged and nearly killed by Cappella,” Frederica reminded her sharply.

“I’m not claiming it wasn’t horrible,” Ram clarified. “Only that the outcome was ultimately beneficial.”

“Unintentionally,” Subaru interjected firmly. “Roswaal doesn’t give a damn about anyone except reviving Echidna. If sacrificing you, Ram, would help him, he wouldn’t hesitate.”

“You’ve known Master Roswaal mere months,” Ram hissed, her voice rising. “You only ever cared about returning to your precious Felt. Don’t presume to understand him.”

“That’s enough!” Emilia said sharply, scowling at Ram. “Even if some of his actions had good outcomes, I won’t accept support from someone willing to use such methods. I can't trust him—not anymore.”

“Lady Emilia,” Reinhard spoke for the first time, stepping forward calmly, “are you formally severing ties with Roswaal?”

“Yes,” Emilia replied without hesitation.

Subaru felt pride well up in his chest. Emilia’s decision might cost her dearly in her bid for the throne, but she refused to compromise her principles. It was a victory, however small, against Roswaal. Yet Subaru doubted the mage would simply disappear; if anything, he was likely even more dangerous now.

Ram narrowed her eyes sharply. “Very well. Rem and I serve Master Roswaal. We will find him.”

Rem blinked, startled by Ram’s sudden declaration. “Um… sister… I… I’m not sure how I feel about Roswaal now, knowing everything that happened.”

Ram’s expression cracked, a look of genuine hurt flickering across her face. “I think we’re done here, Rem. Come, we need to talk privately.”

She grabbed Rem’s arm and quickly led her from the hall. Subaru watched them leave, troubled. This conflict might have consequences he hadn’t anticipated—but it wasn’t his place to interfere in the sisters’ dispute.

“So, what happens now?” Felt asked, breaking the silence, hands resting impatiently on her hips.

“The villagers and anyone from the Sanctuary who wishes to leave will head back to Arlam,” Emilia said firmly. “But I doubt I’ll be welcome there now that I’ve rejected Roswaal’s support.”

“I can arrange accommodations for you in the capital,” Reinhard offered promptly. “It’s the least I can do. I’m sure, given recent events, someone else might offer you their backing—assuming you still plan to pursue the throne?”

“I am,” Emilia confirmed resolutely. “None of this has weakened my resolve.”

“You have my support,” Frederica said, stepping forward proudly. “After everything you’ve done here, Lady Emilia, I’m behind you.”

Emilia nodded appreciatively, clearly moved by Frederica’s declaration. Subaru felt confident Emilia would overcome this setback. She had grown stronger—he could see it clearly.

“Very well,” Reinhard said with a decisive nod. “We’ll get everyone safely back to Arlam, and I’ll report these events fully to the Council. Roswaal has much to answer for.”

If he ever shows his face again, Subaru thought grimly.

“There’s one more thing…” Subaru took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I won’t be going back with you.”

A stunned silence filled the hall as everyone turned to him. Felt blinked in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve thought this over,” Subaru explained slowly. “It’s safer for you if I’m not around, Felt. Ever since we started this whole journey, danger has followed me. Last night was the final straw—you almost died because Lust wanted me.”

“That was because this idiot wasn’t around!” Felt shouted, kicking at Reinhard’s leg. He sidestepped easily, catching her as she stumbled.

Subaru shook his head firmly. “Either way, I’m going after Gluttony and the other Sin Archbishops. I can’t sit idle while Rom’s memories are stolen.”

“Are you serious?!” Felt shouted furiously. “We were supposed to face this together!”

“You’ll need Rom back more than you need me right now,” Subaru said firmly. “Besides, you have Otto, Reinhard, and others to help.”

Otto jolted upright. “Wait, what?”

“You’re a merchant; help her with money and logistics,” Subaru pointed out. “And Reinhard’s far stronger than me. I mostly just bring trouble.”

“No!” Felt snapped sharply. “I forbid it. You aren’t going!”

“You can’t stop me, Felt,” Subaru replied steadily, meeting her furious gaze. “I’ve decided.”

“You… stupid… idiot!” she shouted, clearly hurt. With a frustrated growl, she spun on her heel and stormed from the hall. Reinhard bowed respectfully, then quickly followed her.

Subaru knew Felt would remain angry for days, possibly weeks, but his mind was made up.

“Well, if you’re hunting Sin Archbishops,” Garfiel cracked his knuckles eagerly, “count me in.”

Subaru glanced at him, mildly surprised but not displeased. Garfiel was a powerhouse; having him along could only be beneficial. With a nod from Subaru, Garfiel grinned fiercely, clearly thrilled at the prospect of the battles ahead.

As everyone dispersed, Subaru took a deep breath, heading toward the stables with Beatrice trailing close behind. He paused as he started packing, spotting a note resting on Patrasche’s saddle:

Come to the Tomb, Subaru.

No signature or clue to the sender. Subaru frowned, turning to show it to Beatrice—and jumped in surprise as Rem appeared, standing inches away.

“By the Dragon!” Subaru gasped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Oh… sorry,” Rem said quietly, clearly nervous. “I heard your plan… about hunting the Sin Archbishops.”

Subaru nodded cautiously. “Yeah, what about it?”

Rem suddenly grasped his hands, looking earnestly into his eyes. “Take me with you!”

“What about Roswaal?” Subaru asked, confused.

“I can’t work for someone capable of such cruelty,” Rem said firmly, though her voice trembled slightly. “Not to the people I care about. Please, let me go with you.”

Subaru paused. “What about Ram?”

At the mention of her sister, Rem’s eyes filled with tears. She had clearly been crying already.

“We… we disagree,” Rem explained, her voice breaking slightly. “Ram won’t abandon Roswaal, but I can’t support him anymore. We’re parting ways.”

Subaru felt a pang of guilt. Rem and Ram had always seemed inseparable; the idea they would split up seemed unthinkable. But how could he turn Rem away now, especially after what she’d given up?

“You can come,” Subaru finally said gently. “But you have to promise to stay safe—I can’t guarantee I’ll always be able to protect you.”

Rem smiled through tears. “I’ll be the one protecting you, Subaru.”

“Betty will handle the protecting, I suppose,” Beatrice declared firmly from Patrasche’s side, giving both of them a stern look.

Subaru was about to hand the parchment to Beatrice when something caught his eye. Turning, he was stunned to see the figure of Petelgeuse calmly walking out of the stables. Subaru blinked, his heart quickening.

“Petelgeuse?” he muttered softly, confusion clouding his mind.

“Subaru?” Beatrice called, noticing his distraction.

“Wait here,” Subaru instructed her quickly. Seeing Beatrice’s immediate concern, he added, “I’ll be fine—just finish getting everything ready. We need to leave soon.”

She frowned deeply but nodded, clearly reluctant. Subaru quickly left the stable, crossing the village grounds. Petelgeuse remained ahead of him, never stopping or responding to his calls. Even when Subaru tried reaching out with the unseen hands, nothing happened. Was this some kind of trap?

Determined, Subaru followed Petelgeuse all the way to the decaying steps of the Tomb. As he approached, he noticed the magical pressure around the structure had diminished significantly.

“You’ve come here too?”

Subaru turned sharply to see a Ryuzu clone approaching—this one dressed in white. Unlike Bilma or the others, this Ryuzu held an unmistakable air of quiet authority.

“I have,” Subaru answered warily. “Who are you?”

“Ryuzu Shima,” she replied evenly, studying him carefully. “You must be the one responsible for everything that’s happened here.”

“I wouldn’t say everything,” Subaru countered cautiously. “I played a part, sure, but there’s someone else much more responsible.”

“Indeed,” Shima agreed, sighing softly. “Young Gar still struggles with his fear, though reuniting with his sister has clearly helped. Personally, I believe removing the barrier will bring harm to the world. Yet nothing can be done about it now.”

Unsure how to reply, Subaru decided to ask the questions nagging him. “What happened to the original Ryuzu? The one who was Beatrice’s friend?”

“She was the core of the barrier,” Shima explained simply. “Now that the barrier’s gone, I don’t know what will become of her. Roswaal’s original plans for her never materialized. He’d intended to summon the Great Rabbit to defeat you, but it seems he abandoned that plan.”

“How much do you know?” Subaru pressed, eyes narrowing. “Were you the one who wrote that note?”

“I know some things, but not everything,” Shima admitted cryptically. “I did write the note, though it wasn’t my choice. I was compelled.”

“Compelled?” Subaru echoed uneasily. “By whom?”

Shima gazed into the darkened tomb. “They’re waiting for you inside.”

Every instinct Subaru possessed warned him not to go forward, to turn around immediately and fetch Beatrice. But something deeper in his gut insisted he needed to see this through. He resolved silently never to wander alone again. Nodding solemnly at Shima, he stepped inside.

The tomb was pitch-black without the familiar blue glow from before. He slowly made his way through the darkened trial chamber to the final room. As he pushed the wooden door open, he saw at its center a crystal coffin.

Cautiously approaching, Subaru’s eyes widened as he recognized the figure resting within: Echidna. She appeared older, subtly different from the version he’d met during their strange tea parties. This had to be the original Echidna—dead yet uncannily serene.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Subaru spun instantly, drawing his sword and igniting it with mana. Flames illuminated the room, casting an eerie, flickering glow over Roswaal, who stood quietly in the corner, eyes locked reverently on the coffin.

“Lower your blade, Subaru,” Roswaal said softly, almost respectfully. “We stand on hallowed ground. I haven’t come to fight, only to speak.”

“You can explain yourself to Reinhard,” Subaru growled. He wondered if shouting might alert the knight.

“Unfortunately, the Sword Saint won’t hear us down here,” Roswaal said smoothly, unbothered. “And even if he could, I’d incapacitate you before you managed to summon him. Still, there’s no longer any need for conflict between us—for the moment, at least.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Subaru demanded angrily, flames intensifying.

Roswaal smiled calmly, eyes gleaming. “It’s simple—I won.”

Subaru raised his sword, ready to strike, but suddenly something flickered at the edge of his vision. Turning quickly, his heart froze.

“Hello… Subaru.”

Chapter 35: ARC 4 - Prologue

ARC IV

Prologue

---

Timothy Meyer the Third was, to most, an unremarkable man. He had lived nearly his entire life in Picoutatte, a middling figure among the city's lesser nobility. As a boy, he'd dreamed of adventure—enthralled by veterans' tales of the Demi-Human War, the whispered exploits of smugglers threading through the Sacred Vollachian Empire, and all manner of shadowy mischief that ignited a younger man's fantasies.

But dreams, his father insisted, were for fools.

Timothy Meyer the Second had been adamant. His son was the heir of a respected, if modest, noble house. Their family bore duties, responsibilities—primarily a network of business arrangements that bound them to the Regundra family and the ever-bustling Suwen Company. Adventuring was out of the question.

And so, Timothy had let the world pass him by. The dreams faded, replaced by ledgers, grain shipments, and dull political maneuverings. He could have left—become a soldier, a smuggler, something else. But he didn’t. Instead, he settled for a lesser noble’s life: stable, predictable, and unbearably dull.

Still, he knew well that his lot in life was preferable to the majority of Picoutatte's poor wretches—people who worked their hands bloody just to scrape by.

He hadn't mourned when the old man finally died.

The estate—such as it was—now belonged to him. What little money remained in the family vaults trickled in under his watch. That his father had passed under mysterious circumstances didn’t trouble him. Timothy had never loved the man. His mother had died birthing him, a fact the old man never let go of. Now, he was the last of the Meyer line—and for the moment, that suited him just fine. There was still time to marry, to sire heirs.

Sitting in his office, Timothy scratched lazily at a parchment, half-attending to the requisition list for grain. His small staff handled most of the grunt work. Lately, his other ventures had been far more lucrative than anything his father ever managed through respectable channels.

Old fool. Your debts were chains. Mine are investments. My methods are... far more entertaining.

It was a source of pride, seeing the family vaults begin to fill again. One day, he’d repair the crumbling villa. Or better yet—buy a larger one outright.

His new income streams weren’t without risk. But the thrill was intoxicating. And if it cost him eventually?

He didn’t care.

“My lord.”

He looked up, mildly annoyed. A demi-human girl—slight, brown-haired, with delicate antlers curling back from her forehead—stood in the doorway. Karia. She had a timid voice, soft as the rustle of parchment.

He’d have preferred a human staff. But demi-humans were cheap.

“What is it, Karia?” Timothy asked, running a hand over his smooth-shaven scalp. He liked the way she looked at him—those wide, dark eyes always searching. She was young. Hesitant. He didn’t particularly care for demi-humans, but that wouldn’t stop him from bedding one. He was sure he’d take her eventually—if only out of boredom.

“A stranger is here to see you,” she said quietly. “He said it was urgent.”

Timothy frowned. “Did he give you his name? What did he look like?”

She shook her head. “No, my lord. He wore a grey cloak. I couldn’t see his face. He only said it was urgent, and he wouldn’t explain more.”

With a sigh, Timothy stood. He reached for the belt draped over the back of his chair, fastening it snugly around his waist. Attached were his coin purse, a dagger, and several other useful little tools.

“I’ll be out the rest of the day,” he said flatly. “Tell Garith to clean the parlor once he's done with the ledgers.”

He paused, then gave her a long look.

“I expect a hot bath and dinner this evening, Karia.”

She shuddered slightly—he noticed, and smirked. She knew what he meant when he asked for a bath. 

Jobs for her kind were hard to come by in the city. She needed the coin more than her pride. But with any luck, he’d find a cute little human girl to have instead.

Striding through the modest foyer, Timothy approached the front door of the villa and pushed it open, squinting into the midday sun. As expected, the familiar figure of the robed man stood waiting.

“It must be urgent if you're showing up at my home,” Timothy grumbled, scowling up at the larger man. The visitor loomed over him, cloaked in grey, his presence as suffocating as ever.

“It is, brother,” the man drawled. His voice was slow, breath heavy and wet with exertion. Each word was a labor.

Timothy glanced over his shoulder to ensure no members of the staff were within earshot, then gave a terse nod. “Very well. Let’s go to the inn. I haven’t had lunch—I might kill two birds with one stone.”

With that, the villa’s door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing like a punctuation mark. The waddling mass of robes—Crag—trailed behind him, steps sluggish but deliberate.

“As am I,” Crag replied, wheezing as he walked. “I assume we’re going to that same place you like to indulge your... vices?”

Timothy gritted his teeth. Crag had never been able to speak plainly without some bloated insinuation. The man craved food like a starving pig. Timothy craved something else entirely—warmth in his bed, the thrill of flesh, regardless of whether it belonged to a woman or, on occasion, a man. His appetites were more refined, or so he told himself.

“Perhaps,” Timothy said dryly. “But first—I need a meal. My hungers are many, and I intend to satisfy at least one of them.”

Crag chortled, belly jiggling beneath the robe. “Ah! Fitting. Very fitting indeed.”

Timothy suppressed a grimace. He loathed the man. Crag was nothing more than the low-born son of a tanner. Yet for the past five years, they'd been bound as "brothers"—members of the same secretive faith, their ties forged in blood and shadow. The title still chafed. It might have stung less if Crag weren’t so disgustingly revered by their fellows.

“Will you be paying for your meal this time?” Timothy asked, tapping the pouch at his hip, already estimating if he’d need to visit the banker again.

Crag paused, mock-pensive. “Tempting, brother,” he said with a crooked smile, sharp teeth catching the light like ivory razors. “I’ll be generous today. I’ll pay for your whores, if you pay for my food.”

Timothy smirked. “Careful what you offer. If I choose the wrong inn, you’ll be destitute before the appetizer is served.”

Crag snorted. “Then modesty it is. Take us to that quaint little place. You know—the one with the hot pies and roasted appas. My stomach is already singing.”

Timothy huffed. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. The innkeeper’s wife, Bethell, was a strong-hipped woman with a firm grip and looser morals. With the right coin, she’d take him upstairs and keep him occupied. It would do for now—though by nightfall, he'd surely crave something more.

“Very well. The Winged Pig it is.”

The walk to the inn wasn’t far. The streets were half-empty under the oppressive summer heat—most had sought shade or filled the city’s many taverns. Lucky, in Timothy’s opinion. He wasn’t in the mood for idle conversation or undesired attention.

The swinging wooden sign of the Winged Pig Inn creaked overhead as they arrived. Timothy pushed through the door, stepping into the cooler air inside.

The tavern was bustling—benches packed, mugs raised in cheer, and laughter thick in the air. A bard strummed in the corner, his voice ragged but earnest. Timothy found his music mediocre, but the crowd seemed entertained. Coins clinked into the man’s hat with mindless appreciation.

Crag’s belly rumbled audibly.

Timothy sighed. “Let’s find a seat before you start drooling on the floor.”

The pair claimed a table in the far corner of the Winged Pig , out of earshot and sight from most of the other patrons. It was a favored spot for Timothy—private, shaded, and near the kitchens.

Spotting them, Bethell sauntered over with her usual sly smile. Her curly red hair was pinned up in a loose bun, and her dress hung low at the chest—just enough to stir something warm in Timothy’s gut. He could already feel his coin purse lightening at the sight.

“Ah, my lord,” she purred, leaning forward just enough to ensure he noticed. “What can I get you fine men on this warm day?”

“Meat. Roasted appas. Hot pies—enough to bury a man in!” Crag demanded, licking his lips.

Bethell’s eyes twinkled as she turned back to Timothy. “And for you, my lord?”

“I’ll have the roast, wine… and the special , if you’re able,” Timothy said smoothly, sliding several silver coins across the table.

Bethell plucked them up with practiced grace. “I’ll be back with the meat. And when you’re well-fed, I’ll see if we have a room for the tired lord.”

Timothy smirked, watching her sway away. Her hips moved with purpose. He forced himself to look away, his gaze returning to Crag, whose massive form barely fit between the table and the wall.

“So,” Timothy said at last, crossing his arms, “what exactly is so urgent?”

Crag’s lips curled upward as the first steaming plate of food was set before him. “Five of our brothers and sisters have gone missing in the last few days,” he said, before plunging a spoon into a bowl of stew. “We thought they were merely delayed. Then Sister Dessel turned up dead in her shop this morning.”

Timothy’s expression stiffened. He sipped his wine, watching as Crag devoured a hot pie in a single breath. It was revolting.

“Are you suggesting someone’s hunting us?” Timothy asked, arching a brow.

Crag shrugged, gnawing on a hunk of bread. “Possibly. We don’t know for sure. But it’s a concern.”

Timothy lowered his voice. “How? None of us are foolish enough to parade our affiliations in the open.”

He tapped his fingers on the table, thoughts swirling. If the chapter had been compromised, it would’ve been cleaner to arrest Dessel, interrogate her. Unless she took her own life first. Or worse—if it was the knights, and she broke.

“I don’t know yet,” Crag admitted through a mouthful of chicken, devouring the bone with a loud crack . “But stay on guard. Don’t return to the chapter house until we know what’s going on.”

Timothy frowned. “All this, and you couldn’t have sent a note?”

“I was hungry,” Crag said with a satisfied grunt. “And I have a task for you.”

Timothy raised an eyebrow, interest piqued. “Oh? What sort of task?”

“There are… troublesome women in Lupugana,” Crag said, slurping loudly from a bowl. “Go deal with them.”

Timothy leaned forward slightly. “Names?”

Crag wiped his greasy fingers on the edge of the table before pulling a folded parchment from within his robes and sliding it across the now-cluttered table.

Timothy picked it up, studying the list. Several names, brief descriptions, and a contact within the local chapter. It would be enough to begin with. If nothing else, perhaps one of them might provide him with both satisfaction and opportunity.

Crag belched loudly, surveying the tower of empty plates beside him with dissatisfaction. “Well. I wish I could say I was full. But I’ve others to speak with.”

He dropped a fistful of coins onto the table, the metal clinking loudly.

“I’ll leave you to satisfy yourself,” he said, stretching his massive arms. “Be cautious, brother.”

“I’ll leave at first light tomorrow,” Timothy said. There was no use lingering in a city where death might already be closing in. He wasn’t the martyr type. Not yet. But he knew in time… in time, he’d feel the hunger too.

“Good.” Crag smiled, meat still stuck between his jagged teeth. “Until next time, brother.”

With that, the bloated figure turned and waddled from the inn, vanishing into the street crowd with surprising speed.

Timothy glanced back toward the kitchen, where Bethell was no doubt preparing his next indulgence. For now, he would eat. Then he would enjoy her. Tomorrow, he’d disappear.

Let the others take the blade in the dark. He had no intention of dying in Picoutatte.

---

It was late by the time Timothy returned to the villa. His coin purse hung empty at his hip, its once-plump weight reduced to a pitiful sag. Bethell, it turned out, had not been enough to quench his thirst. She’d taken her share of silver, but the real damage had come from the other stops—the darker places, the ones hidden in back alleys and behind locked doors.

He scolded himself for his indulgence. For his weakness. Too hungry for the pleasures of the flesh… But it was still preferable, he reasoned, to the hunger that turned Crag into the bloated caricature of a man he was. Timothy shuddered at the thought of becoming like him. Yet deep down, he knew—he loved it. The thrill of pursuit, of satisfaction followed by emptiness. A cycle he never intended to break.

One day, he thought, will coin matter less than my thirst?

The front door clicked satisfyingly as it locked behind him. The villa greeted him with silence, cloaked in stillness and darkness. A little too still.

He frowned.

Karia should be here.

The deer-girl usually kept herself busy around this time—either preparing his dinner or awaiting his summons. Despite his earlier contempt for her, a dull, lingering desire flickered in the back of his mind. Maybe she’d be more pliant tonight. His thirst still gnawed at him.

“Karia,” he called lazily, heading for his bedchambers.

He swept inside and was met with pitch blackness. Scowling, he cursed aloud.

“Stupid girl… leaving my chambers in the dark. She knows better. She knows to light the illuminators.”

He strode across the room and twisted the small bronze handle on the wall. The mage-lamps flickered weakly, struggling to life. A dim, hazy glow spilled over the room in pulses, slowly intensifying. The crystals were old, almost spent. He’d meant to replace them—but coin was always tight.

If you stopped whoring, you could afford better.

He snorted. Some sacrifices were simply not worth making.

Timothy turned toward the adjoining bath and pushed open the door. The brass tub sat partially filled, water still and lukewarm. He dipped a hand into it and immediately pulled back with a grimace.

“Karia!” he shouted, louder now, irritation spiking.

He paused.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Not a creak. Not the rustle of footsteps. Not even the clatter of dishes or the low hum of a kitchen fire.

He stood still for a long breath, his scowl fading into a calculating stare. Maybe she’d run. It wouldn’t be the first time a maid had vanished out of fear or shame.

But then again…

Crag’s warning.

The missing brothers and sisters. Dessel—dead. The possibility that someone was hunting them.

Slowly, Timothy reached down and drew the dagger from his belt, fingers tightening around the hilt. He shifted his stance, shoulders tense, eyes sweeping the shadows of the room.

Silence reigned. Only the wind outside whispered at the edges of the villa.

Stepping into the hallway, Timothy pressed his back to the wall, every footstep cautious. He began drawing in mana, letting the faint pulse of energy hum just beneath his skin. If someone was here—if he was next on the list—he’d be ready.

Or so he told himself.

Timothy crept through the villa with a dagger in hand. The halls were silent—eerily so. No sign of Karia, no sign of Garith, and—mercifully—no sign of an intruder.

He exhaled, already lowering the blade, when the sound came.

A faint, familiar creak .

His spine stiffened instantly.

It was the drawing room. More specifically, the hidden bookshelf built into the wall. It only made that sound when opened. The concealed room beyond it— his room—was one he’d had carved into the foundations shortly after his initiation. No one outside the brotherhood knew of it. No one was meant to.

Timothy’s breath caught in his throat. Every instinct screamed at him to flee.

But if someone had found that room… if they’d seen what was inside…

He'd be ruined. Worse than ruined. His name, his fortune, his tenuous place in Picoutatte’s decaying noble class—all would burn.

If it’s Karia, he reasoned, she can be silenced.

With a gulp, he forced his feet forward into the dim drawing room. The bookshelf stood ajar, exactly as he feared. Its presence—open and exposed—felt obscene. Violating.

He flicked on the crystal sconce embedded in the wall. The crystals shuddered awake with a cold blue light, dim and sluggish from overuse.

The narrow stairway behind the shelf yawned open like a throat.

Timothy descended slowly. Each step echoed like a hammer strike in the silence.

At the bottom, he stopped before the heavy wooden door. The iron lock remained latched. Relief washed through him. Impossible for Karia to have gotten in. Perhaps she saw the entrance—no matter. He could lie, twist the truth. Or, if needed, eliminate her. No one would miss a demi-human servant girl.

He fished the brass key from his pocket, slid it into the lock, and twisted.

Click.

The door swung open.

And he froze.

A girl sat cross-legged atop the central table, the one covered in his most sensitive maps, rituals, and forbidden texts. She looked no older than sixteen—petite, black-haired, clad in a glittering white dress that shimmered like snow under moonlight. In her hands, casually open, was his Gospel.

She didn’t look up. Just smiled faintly as her silver-grey eyes scanned the pages.

“Such an amusing little book,” she murmured, voice soft and smooth as cut glass. “A knockoff, really. But I suppose for poor souls like you, it has its… charm.”

Timothy’s heart pounded in his throat. “Who the fuck are you?” he barked, backing up, dagger raised.

The girl finally looked up and grinned. “My, such language. But I suppose it’s fitting, given what we know about you.”

We?

A sound scraped behind him.

He spun.

Too slow.

A blur of motion. A massive fist.

The impact lifted him off the ground and hurled him across the room like a sack of grain. He slammed into the far wall with a crunch and collapsed in a sprawl, stars swimming in his vision.

Blood filled his mouth. Something loose rolled across his tongue. He spat—and two of his front teeth clattered wetly to the floor.

Blinking through the haze, he looked up.

A tall figure stood over him, robed in black, trimmed with grey. A silver mask hid his face, etched with intricate carvings. Long white hair fell to his belt, and his gloved hands sparkled with rings.

“W-Who are you?” Timothy croaked.

The ground around his limbs cracked and shifted. Chunks of stone surged up and gripped him—first his legs, then his arms, pinning him to the floor. His limbs burned where the stone touched.

“You’re not in a position to ask questions, Cultist,” the masked man said, his voice gruff and low. “You will answer mine. Or I’ll make this very, very unpleasant.”

The girl still sat on the table, swinging her legs idly.

“You should listen to Papa,” she said with a cheerful lilt. “That fat piggie we interrogated earlier nearly ruptured my eardrums. Honestly, you Gluttony lot are so dramatic.”

Timothy’s vision swam. “You… you mean Crag…?”

“Indeed,” said the masked man.

“He told us where to find you. And several others,” the girl added. “Though he refused to name the city’s chapter leader. Silly of him.”

“I—” Timothy’s breath hitched. “I can’t give you that name.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” the girl asked sweetly, tilting her head. “Because one of those means you physically can’t. The other means you’re just being difficult.”

“Suck my cock, bitch. I’ll never—”

Heat.

Unbearable heat.

Timothy screamed as the stones encasing his limbs began to glow—red-hot from within. His flesh hissed against the heat. He could feel his skin blistering.

“I suggest you reconsider,” the masked man said calmly. “Before the cooking starts in earnest.”

Panic surged in Timothy’s chest as the heat roared up his limbs. He clenched his jaw to stop the screaming—but it came anyway. A raw, keening wail ripped from his throat as the stench of searing flesh filled the chamber. His nerves howled in agony, and a part of his mind—some feeble, flailing thing—tried to whisper they’re going to kill you anyway.

Don’t say a word.

But the fire didn’t care. The stones cracked, glowing red around his arms and legs, and all he could do was thrash and weep as his body began to betray him.

“S-Stop!” he cried, spittle flying from his lips. “Stop, by the Witch—I beg you!”

The heat vanished in an instant, the stones cooling in a flash to a frigid, numb chill. It was a relief, meager as it was. The burns remained. Blistered, blackened skin peeled at the edges, and the room stank of blood and smoke.

Timothy gasped for air, body trembling, bile rising in his throat.

“Speak,” the masked man growled, raising one hand. A grinding of stone followed, and more rock encased his thighs and waist. “Or I will burn what little else you value.”

Timothy’s eyes widened, a new horror overtaking the last. If he burns my—

“I—I have names!” he gasped. “In my pocket! A list—contacts in Lupugana! Take it, just… just let me live!”

From the table, the girl snapped her book shut and hopped down, her white dress whispering over the stone floor. She moved with a child’s grace—but something about her felt deeply, irreparably wrong. She reached into his coat and plucked the parchment free, flicking it open as if it were a passing curiosity.

“We already have these names,” she sighed, letting the paper drift to the floor like dead leaves. “I think we should just put him out of his misery and find someone more useful, Papa.”

“Perhaps,” the masked man rumbled.

“No! Wait!” Timothy choked, struggling against the restraints. “I—I can give you more! Please, just… just promise me—swear—you won’t kill me! Make a deal!”

“I don’t make deals with cultists,” the masked man said, flat and final. “But I will make you a promise. Give me the name of your chapter leader, and I’ll let you live. Refuse, and I’ll make your suffering biblical.”

Timothy's chest heaved. His mind raced. He knew the teachings. Knew what he should do. Die in silence. Die proud.

But he wasn’t proud. He wasn’t brave. He wasn’t Crag.

I want to live.

“Elba,” he croaked. “Elba… he’s a merchant in the west end. Green hair. Blue eyes. A mole under his right eye. He’s the chapter master!”

The masked man stared at him for a long, quiet moment.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he said, and the stone bindings slowly receded from Timothy’s ruined limbs.

Timothy looked down.

The skin on his arms and legs was red and blistered, wet with seeping blood. He couldn’t feel anything. It looked… cooked. His stomach lurched, but he fought back the nausea.

“I still think we should kill him,” the girl pouted.

“I promised him he would live,” the masked man said coldly. “But I said nothing about what would happen after. Let the knights have him.”

“No—no, wait!” Timothy cried, struggling. “They’ll kill me! Please, I—!”

CRACK!

The girl’s boot slammed into his face with terrifying force. His nose shattered under the blow, pain exploding through his skull.

“Be grateful Papa’s so merciful,” she sneered, brushing her hair aside. “Trash like you should’ve been gutted already.”

She turned on her heel, arms crossed, as if the matter were beneath her now.

“Shall we go find this Elba?” she asked, glancing back. “The Archbishop can’t be far behind.”

“I will go alone this time,” the masked man replied.

“No fair!” she groaned. “I’ve been tracking creeps like him all day! The least you can do is let me watch the main act.”

“Ever the child, Echo,” the man sighed. “It’s nearly your bedtime.”

She gave a dramatic sigh. “I stay out just a bit longer, I’ve got strength to spare!”

“We’ll see.”

Their footsteps began to fade—first slow, then climbing. Timothy could barely keep his eyes open. Blood dripped from his nose and lips. His body throbbed, his limbs burned. Every breath was a struggle.

And as darkness took him, the blurred image of two knights in steel descending the stairs was the last thing he saw.

Master… forgive me.

Chapter 36: ARC 4 - Chapter 1: South We Go

 

ARC IV

---

Chapter I:

South We Go

---

Rem sat quietly at the riverbank, her hands rhythmically working through the damp fabric of their worn travel clothes. The midday sun filtered through the canopy above, warming the stones around her and glinting off the water in lazy ripples. She had fallen into the familiar, soothing rhythm of sc

rubbing and wringing, the kind of work she’d done all her life—but now it carried a different weight.

Months had passed since they’d left the Sanctuary. Their journey across Lugunica in pursuit of Gluttony had swallowed up their days and nights, their thoughts and hopes. And somewhere along the way, Rem had become the unspoken mother of their ragtag group.

Garfiel, as strong and brave as he was in a fight, was hopeless when it came to even the most basic chores. Cooking, cleaning, organizing supplies—he hadn’t a clue. She had always seen him as a younger brother, in the way she and Ram had once doted on him in the Sanctuary. But it didn’t escape her notice—the way he used to look at Ram. Still did, in fact, when her name slipped into conversation like a ghost.

Rem winced inwardly. Thinking of her sister still left a dull ache in her chest.

She had chosen Subaru. Chosen to follow her heart instead of her blood. In doing so, she had torn something deep within her—something sacred. And still, despite everything she knew about Roswaal… despite his betrayal, Ram had stayed with him. Clung to him.

How can’t she see? Roswaal tried to murder Felt. Tried to kill Petra. Tried to make Subaru—my Subaru—his slave. 

“Oi! How far away is this stupid place anyway?” Garfiel barked from where he lay sprawled under the shade of a tree, arms behind his head.

“Not far, I suppose,” Beatrice replied without looking up, her attention focused on the small campfire where she gently tended a bubbling pot of tea.

Rem sighed, folding a dress and carrying it over to the makeshift clothesline strung between two trees. “You’ve been complaining since we left Kararagi, Garfiel. You should be used to traveling by now.”

“I lived in the same forest for fifteen years, Rem,” Garfiel muttered, “Months of draggin’ my ass across the world ain’t gonna fix that.”

“Say, Beako—”

“Only Suba can call me that, I suppose,” Beatrice interrupted, not bothering to glance up.

“Seriously? I’m like the boss’s right-hand out here!” Garfiel grumbled. “Fine… Beatrice. Happy?”

Rem allowed herself a small smile as she hung up the final pair of trousers. Even after all this time, Garfiel still hadn’t quite learned how to ask for things without picking a fight first.

“Well, since we’re on the topic,” he added, sitting up, “Can’t you just, y’know, use your door magic? Make a shortcut to wherever the boss is? This whole slow crawl thing is gettin’ old.”

Patrasche let out a low rumble of agreement from where she rested beside the wagon. The earth dragon had grown restless in recent days—Rem knew it wasn’t the road she was tired of, but the absence of Subaru.

“If it were that easy, I would’ve done it ages ago, I suppose,” Beatrice huffed, flicking her twin drills behind her. “But as it stands, I can only send small notes and draw mana through the current connection. Until Suba strengthens the link, this locket crossing is all we have.”

Rem glanced at the small metal pendant that dangled from her neck. A miniature door, enchanted and delicate, yet more precious to Beatrice than any treasure. Each night, she fell asleep with her finger stuck through it to pull mana from Subaru—an oddly endearing and bittersweet arrangement.

Rem clutched it lightly, feeling its warmth. She envied it.

She would have done anything to be the one resting beside him at night. To hear his voice. To be held.

But Subaru… hadn’t returned her feelings. Not yet. And perhaps never.

She glanced at Garfiel, who sat scowling at the clouds with a faint frown. She knew that look— that longing . It was the same one she wore herself.

So this is how Garf must’ve felt... watching Ram love someone else. Rem looked down, her smile fading.

“I understand your frustrations, Garf,” Rem said with a sigh as she started on dinner. Tonight they'd be having freshly caught fish. She’d tried to get Garfiel to help her catch them earlier, but his fear of any body of water deeper than a bath was still very much alive and well.

“I wouldn’t be so restless if we had another fight to take on,” Garfiel grumbled. “Huntin’ down Archbishops sounded a lot better in my head. At this point, it’s just plain boring.”

“You can’t expect every village to have cultists, you know,” Beatrice scolded lightly, pouring steaming water from the kettle into her cup. “Large cities are understandable, I suppose.”

“Then let’s just head for the next big city, find some cultists, and make ’em squeal!” Garf barked eagerly.

Rem rolled her eyes as she cleaned the fish, quietly humming to herself.

“Well, I think you’ll enjoy this bit of news.”

Rem looked up to see the familiar green-haired man approaching—Petelgeuse, the surprising new addition to their group. Rem still had mixed feelings about him and his past, but Subaru and Beatrice had assured her that he was a trusted ally.

“Guese! You’re back!” Beatrice greeted him cheerfully, a small smile lighting her face.

“Indeed,” the former Archbishop of Sloth replied warmly, brushing his hair aside as the metal bracelet around his wrist caught the sunlight.

“How is Emilia?” Rem asked, her voice noticeably colder as she refocused on her dinner preparations. Although relieved that Petelgeuse, being a spirit, didn’t require food, Rem still struggled to trust him. His past as a founding member of the Witch Cult made her blood boil.

“Emilia is doing fine,” Petelgeuse said calmly. “She’s still adjusting to her new role as a candidate sponsored by House Miload. Given that her new benefactor is a child, she’s naturally been leaning heavily on me and Clind.”

Rem vaguely remembered Clind, the Miload family’s steward. She recalled hearing how Emilia had initially been mistaken for a pitiful half-elf maid whom Roswaal had taken pity upon by Annerose Miload, the heiress-in-waiting—and niece to her former master. Emilia had been scrubbing floors in a maid’s outfit before Roswaal corrected Annerose’s misunderstanding. The irony that Emilia was now backed by House Miload for the throne wasn’t lost on Rem.

“What’s this big news of yours, moss-head?” Garf muttered, shooting a sidelong glare at Petelgeuse.

“Subaru’s located one of the Sin Archbishops of Gluttony,” Petelgeuse said calmly, a faint smirk touching his lips.

A tense silence settled over the campfire. They had learned, back in Kararagi, that the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony wasn’t just one person—it was shared among several individuals, a revelation that deeply unsettled Subaru. It was at that same time Subaru had crafted the mana bracelets, binding Petelgeuse to his new role among them—and when they had truly met the former Archbishop face-to-face.

“Yeah, we might’ve found all those bastards already if your useless ass could remember anythin’ from when you were still a crazed lunatic,” Garf huffed. “Still, guess progress is progress. So—where’s the creep lurkin’ now?”

Garf had been the most openly hostile to Petelgeuse from the outset. Rem didn’t entirely blame him; every interaction brought to mind the horrors the Witch Cult had inflicted. Yet Subaru had trusted Petelgeuse—and Rem trusted Subaru far more than she despised their former enemy.

“Near Picoutatte,” Petelgeuse explained. His expression hardened. “But it’s worse than that. Followers of Sloth and Wrath have begun gathering there as well—in alarming numbers.”

Rem’s eyes narrowed slightly. She wondered if hearing about the gathering of Sloth’s followers awakened something buried deep within Petelgeuse—memories or perhaps lingering shame. The spirit insisted that he preferred never to remember those lost years. But Rem still wondered, quietly, if he felt something toward the souls who’d once worshipped him.

Better that all those monsters be wiped from existence.

“Then south we go, I suppose?” Beatrice noted lightly, though her voice held a subtle edge.

“It appears that way,” Petelgeuse nodded.

Garf cracked his neck loudly, a fierce grin spreading over his face. “Finally. We’ve been wanderin’ too long. I’m itchin’ to grind some cultists into the dirt.”

“Don’t underestimate them, Garf,” Rem warned firmly, pausing in her preparations to level a serious gaze at him. “Gluttony isn’t an enemy you can defeat through brute force alone. Don’t forget what happened to Crusch… or how Rom’s very existence vanished from all but Subaru’s memory.”

Garfiel huffed, crossing his arms defiantly. “I ain’t lettin’ some overgrown, mad-eyed freak erase me. If they even try, I’ll smash ’em into bloody paste first.”

“I would advise caution, Garfiel,” Petelgeuse interjected quietly. “Only Beatrice and I have lived to truly witness the terrifying extent of a Witch Factor. These powers eclipse anything conventional magic can achieve. They defy logic, reason, even death itself.”

Garf snorted. “Ain’t your Witch Factor just about growin’ creepy invisible hands?”

Petelgeuse fixed Garf with a cold stare. “And in my madness, I nearly wiped out an entire village without effort. Underestimating your enemy will be your undoing. It’d be tragic if the day came when only Subaru remembered you.”

Garf waved dismissively, but the warning seemed to briefly silence his bravado. “Yeah, yeah. Boss ain’t ever gotta worry ’bout forgettin’ me. You just watch your own back, moss-head.”

“Of course,” Petelgeuse said softly, turning his gaze upward. The sky had begun to darken, shades of twilight painting the clouds in soft orange hues. “My mana is running low. I must return soon.”

Garf raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Ain’t you supposed to just vanish when your mana runs dry anyway? What, feelin’ shy all of a sudden?”

“N-no, of course not!” Petelgeuse stammered awkwardly, looking away. “It’s just… unpleasant, suddenly snapping back to Subaru’s side. You wouldn’t understand.”

Garf snickered, rolling his eyes. “Whatever helps ya sleep, moss-head. Just tell the boss we’re done with all this wandering. It’s past time we crushed these bastards.”

Petelgeuse gave a quiet sigh, nodding slowly as he began to fade into shimmering motes of mana. “I will.”

Rem watched quietly as the spirit disappeared, leaving only a faint shimmer of magical residue behind. She silently prayed Subaru was safe—and that, when their paths converged again, she might at last find the courage to tell him what still lingered in her heart.

Rem watched in quiet fascination as Petelgeuse’s form shimmered into particles of soft, silvery mana. When the last traces of him faded, the delicate silver bracelet around his wrist rose silently through the air, guided by an unseen force, before gently landing in Beatrice’s lap. Without a second thought, the spirit slid the bracelet around her slender wrist and went back to quietly sipping her tea.

Rem still didn’t fully grasp how the device worked. Subaru had tried explaining it once—something about threads woven between souls, a tether connecting him to Petelgeuse’s spirit. Subaru gave Petelgeuse access to his mana, allowing him a temporary physical form, though its duration was always limited. Subaru had called the bracelet a "work in progress," promising one day to perfect it so that Petelgeuse could remain corporeal indefinitely.

Garfiel broke the lingering silence with a grumble. “Still don’t get what the boss sees in that guy.”

“Guese is a friend and a powerful ally. The Witch Cult of today isn’t what it was when it started, I suppose,” Beatrice replied evenly, her eyes fixed on the embers of the fire.

Rem silently turned back to preparing their meal, arranging the freshly cleaned fish on skewers and setting them carefully above the fire. She wished she'd had some spices left—plain fish was bland after weeks on the road—but they’d run out days ago. Hopefully, the next village would have a merchant stocked with herbs and spices. Thankfully, Subaru’s careful handling of the funds Anastasia had provided had kept their coin pouch comfortably full.

She couldn’t help but smile faintly, remembering Subaru’s constant fussing over the enchanted weapons he’d crafted as repayment for the other Royal Candidates’ assistance against the Witch Cult’s attack on Arlam. He’d worked tirelessly, often late into the night, perfecting every detail. Ultimately, he’d crafted five enchanted weapons—an astounding feat by any measure.

It turned out that only a very specific type of metal could hold enchantments, something Subaru had stumbled upon almost by accident—though he’d suspected Roswaal’s subtle meddling from the shadows. After discovering this, Subaru had melted down his own beloved sword, reshaping it into enchanted artifacts for the candidates. Obtaining more of that metal afterward had been both difficult and staggeringly expensive, but to Subaru, a debt owed was a debt honored, no matter the cost.

Anastasia had received an intricate bracelet for herself, a sturdy and fearsome lance for Ricardo, and an elegant blade for Julius—each piece a masterwork that had consumed days of painstaking effort. Rem had offered to assist, but Subaru insisted the enchanting process was far too dangerous for her to risk herself.

For Crusch, Subaru had forged a slender, exquisitely detailed dagger along with a graceful, slim dueling sword for Wilhelm. Rem still recalled the delicate etchings and flawless polish—craftsmanship so meticulous that even Rem had to admit the blades were stunning.

After dinner, the three of them settled into the familiar rhythm of their nightly routine. Beatrice, brushing crumbs off her lap, offered to keep first watch.

“I don’t sleep much anyway, I suppose,” she said with a shrug, already settling into a cross-legged perch atop a rock, her eyes flickering with faint mana light.

Rem didn’t argue. She was grateful—morning always came with its own duties. She would need to rise early to take down the clothes that had dried overnight, prepare breakfast, feed Patrasche, and smother the last of the fire’s embers before they broke camp. A few quiet hours of rest would help.

Garfiel was already curled up on his side, snoring gently in a loose heap, his sharp features softened in sleep. Patrasche, ever vigilant, laid not far from him, her body curved protectively around the wagon.

Rem yawned, stretching lightly beneath the thin blanket of her bedroll. She curled inward, hugging her pillow close. The night air was cool, but not unpleasant, and the rhythmic rustle of leaves above sang softly with the breeze.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax.

Please… let me dream of Subaru tonight.

With that final thought, she drifted off, the crackle of the campfire and the distant hoot of an owl her lullaby as the stars wheeled slowly above.

---

It was another day’s travel before the sunlit walls of Picoutatte came into view. Rem’s heart fluttered the moment she spotted the city crest above the gate. More than the promise of a hot meal or a real bed, she was eager for one thing: Subaru. The thought of seeing him again—of holding him close—warmed her more than the late afternoon sun. She glanced at Beatrice, who was perched atop the wagon with her chin in her hand, a rare softness in her eyes. Rem could tell she wasn’t the only one longing to be reunited.

She reminded herself not to be jealous. Beatrice was Subaru’s contracted spirit, after all. And Rem… Rem had never officially claimed anything, even if her feelings had long since solidified. Still, if she had to share him with anyone, she supposed Beatrice was tolerable. So long as she could steal a few days of his time for herself each week, she could live with that.

“Odd, how different the cities look down here,” Garfiel muttered, his eyes roaming the pale sandstone buildings beyond the hill’s crest.

Rem nodded in agreement. The southern cities were worlds apart from the white-stone majesty of the royal capital. Picoutatte’s architecture leaned into clay hues, earth tones, and domed rooftops—its style shaped by proximity to the Vollachian border and the harsh southern sun.

“It’s a city like any other, I suppose,” Beatrice said airily. “So long as Suba is here, Betty has no complaints.”

When they reached the outer gate, the delay was expected but still frustrating. As a trade hub between Lugunica and the Vollachian Empire, Picoutatte took security seriously. Their group, unfamiliar to the guards and without official trade credentials, was made to wait over an hour before being waved through. Garfiel grumbled the whole time, but Rem took the opportunity to adjust her hair and ensure her appearance was proper.

The moment they arrived at the inn—a modest but clean establishment just off the main plaza—Rem nearly collapsed from exhaustion. The scent of bread and stew wafting from the kitchen promised a hot meal, and the creak of floorboards above promised a bed. But all of it fell away the moment she saw him.

Subaru.

He was seated at a corner bench, talking quietly with Petelgeuse, a mug of ale in his hand. He hadn’t changed much—still dressed in that patched travel coat of his, still looking weary, but his smile was the same. That smile undid her.

“Subaru!” Rem cried.

She couldn’t help herself. In an instant, she was across the room, flinging herself into his arms and toppling him from the bench. She clung to him tightly, her face buried against his chest as she squeezed him like a lifeline.

“Oof—Rem, you’re crushing me,” Subaru wheezed.

“Get off of him!” Beatrice huffed, tugging at her collar. “He’s not yours, I suppose!”

Realizing how forward she’d been, Rem flushed scarlet and scrambled off him. “S-sorry! I was just happy to see you, that’s all…”

“Well, Betty is the one who gets to sleep beside him tonight, I suppose,” Beatrice said primly, hopping onto the bench and folding her arms with a victorious huff. “I need mana, and he left me for days. That demands restitution.”

“No fair!” Rem pouted, clutching Subaru’s arm. “I haven’t seen him either!”

Garfiel groaned as he dropped his bags to the floor. “Dragon’s guts, how many girls are gunnin’ for ya, boss?”

“I’m not trying,” Subaru mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s the worst part.”

“Subaru’s love life aside,” Petelgeuse interrupted with a thin smile, “perhaps we should discuss what we’ve learned?”

“By all means,” Rem said, reclaiming the seat beside Subaru and pressing herself to his arm with quiet determination.

Not to be outdone, Beatrice casually climbed into Subaru’s lap, crossing her arms and looking away with a ‘hmph’. Rem fought the urge to tug her off by the collar. It wasn’t even about the mana. Not really. It was about Subaru. It always had been.

“We’ve been digging, but signs of the Witch Cult are as hard to find as ever,” Subaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still, someone’s been stirring the pot. A string of killings happened recently, and while nothing’s officially confirmed, the local knights believe the victims were cultists.”

“Really?” Garfiel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “How do they know?”

“Seven people turned up dead,” Petelgeuse answered evenly. “Five were found with… let’s just say damning evidence. Relics, gospels, markings—items that tied them directly to the cult.”

“The worst was the last,” Subaru added. “A lesser noble named Timothy Meyer. Unlike the others, he was taken alive.”

“Alive?” Rem frowned, brows furrowing. “That’s… strange. Cultists usually fight to the death, or bite down on poison before capture.”

“Exactly,” Subaru agreed, his voice tense. “That’s what made it so unusual. He was interrogated, held for days… and then found dead in his cell. No witnesses, no suspects. The knights are convinced another cultist finished the job.”

Garfiel snorted. “So much for finally gettin’ answers.”

Subaru grimaced. “Yeah. But that’s not all. We have reason to believe one of Gluttony’s Archbishops is nearby. The knights think they’re planning something big—possibly an attack on the city.”

Rem's eyes widened. “Why would they do that? An open assault would draw the Council’s attention. Reinhard might even be dispatched to intervene.”

“Unlikely,” Subaru shook his head. “The moment you move the Sword Saint this close to the Vollachian border, the Empire might interpret it as a military maneuver. It’s a diplomatic powder keg.”

Rem nodded reluctantly. She’d read about the treaty limitations placed on Reinhard’s movements. For all his strength, even he couldn’t go wherever he pleased without risking an international incident. It was terrifying how dangerous one man could be just by existing.

“Even still,” Petelgeuse said darkly, “Gluttony doesn’t move without reason. If they’re here, it’s not a coincidence. There’s something they want.”

“But attacking a major trade city?” Garf scoffed, gesturing around at the bustling inn. “Place is packed with merchants and guards. They’d be beggin’ to get caught.”

“That’s just it,” Subaru said, lowering his voice. “Almost no one knows. Only a handful of officials and the knights. The trading guilds and the Regundra family are keeping it quiet. Panic’s bad for business, and this city lives and dies on trade.”

“Whatever they’re after, it can’t be anything good, I suppose,” Beatrice commented dryly, reaching across the table to the teapot their server had provided. She sniffed it, wrinkled her nose in mild disappointment, and reluctantly poured herself a cup anyway.

“What’s your plan, Subaru?” Rem leaned forward expectantly, eyes shining brightly as she eagerly anticipated his brilliant idea.

“Well, since all our leads in the city are either dead or gone to ground, our best option is probably to track down whoever’s been hunting these local cultists,” Subaru reasoned. “If we can find them, we might be able to learn exactly what’s going on here. And even if we can’t, sticking around town for a while might work in our favor. Local officials will definitely be desperate for help, especially with a Sin Archbishop rumored to be headed this way.”

“Who’s runnin’ the knights in this city anyway?” Garf snorted dismissively. “Bet it’s some stuck-up asshole.”

Subaru rubbed the back of his neck with a knowing grin. “Well, given that Reinhard’s off the table, the Council had to send in another high-ranking knight…” He glanced toward the entrance, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. “And speak of the devil—seems like perfect timing is his specialty.”

“Speaking about me, I assume?”

Turning around, Rem blinked in surprise. Approaching their table was a man whose reputation she was familiar with but whom she'd never personally met—Sir Julius Juukulius, the famed Spirit Knight. Rem knew him as Lady Anastasia Hoshin’s sworn knight and one of the heroes who’d turned the tide during the Cult attack on Arlam. He carried himself with confidence, his expression sharp and controlled.

“Aren’t you Lady Anastasia’s knight?” Rem asked curiously. “Is she here too?”

“I am indeed,” Julius responded with a refined smile. “My Lady is occupied with matters elsewhere. At present, I’m here on official duty from my knightly order. But of course, I act as an extension of Lady Anastasia’s influence. Any glory earned in my deeds belongs to her as well.”

“Sit with us,” Subaru offered warmly, gesturing at the table. “I ordered enough food for everyone.” His gaze shifted beyond Julius to the younger knight standing quietly behind him. The young man seemed more like a squire than a knight, though his white uniform marked him as Julius’s comrade. “Care to introduce us?”

“Of course,” Julius said smoothly, stepping aside slightly and gesturing toward the youth. “Allow me to introduce Hector Gildark. He is the second cousin of my superior, Captain Marcos, and he’s here to assist me in my duties.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Hector said politely, bowing his head respectfully.

The pair took their seats just as the server brought out steaming platters of meat and fresh bread. Immediately, Garf began devouring the food ravenously, without regard for table manners. Rem selected her portion more carefully, trying to maintain a more ladylike composure despite the savage display beside her.

Julius turned his attention thoughtfully to Petelguese. "I'd be remiss if I didn’t ask, Peter—what brings you here?"

Petelguese offered a calm, practiced smile. To the world at large, he was known simply as "Peter." Subaru and Emilia had both agreed that it would be disastrous if people discovered his true identity as the former Sin Archbishop of Sloth. Though his appearance and demeanor were completely different now, Rem understood why secrecy was essential.

“Lady Emilia remains committed to maintaining close ties with Subaru,” Petelguese explained smoothly. “I had some minor matters to handle in the city and decided to catch up with him. Given the recent developments here, I thought it best to stay around and see how things unfold.”

“I see,” Julius acknowledged with a nod. “Wherever Subaru goes, trouble does tend to follow.”

Subaru smirked slightly, taking a rack of ribs from the platter before Garf could swallow it whole. “This time we’re actively hunting trouble—Gluttony, specifically.”

“So I’ve heard,” Julius said. “You've been pursuing them all across the country. We've tried for years to pin down the Sin Archbishops ourselves. Unfortunately, they only seem to emerge when it suits them—otherwise, Reinhard would have dispatched them long ago. They're elusive.”

“Speakin' of that,” Garf interjected between bites, “what've you heard about the guy who's been hunting the cultists around here?”

“Unfortunately, very little,” Julius admitted. “He's masked, traveling with a young woman. Beyond that, we have almost nothing.”

“But he’s fighting the cult,” Rem pointed out cautiously. “Surely that's enough reason to consider him an ally?”

“Not officially,” Julius clarified. “Even if he's eliminating cultists, he’s doing so outside the law. We have no way to verify his intentions.”

“What d'ya think we're doin', exactly?” Garf growled irritably. “Ain’t like any of us have badges, ya know!”

“True,” Julius conceded calmly, “but Lady Felt still claims Subaru as part of her camp. Technically, he operates as her representative.”

At the mention of Felt, Subaru visibly stiffened. Rem knew it was a sensitive topic. Subaru blamed himself deeply for the trouble Felt had encountered with Roswaal and saw his separation from her as the best way to protect her.

Hector broke the tense silence, speaking up gently. “Will you be staying here during your time in Picoutatte?”

“We will,” Subaru confirmed firmly.

“Good,” Julius replied with a courteous smile. “We'll know where to find you if needed, then. Meet us at the barracks tomorrow morning. If the Cult is truly plotting something, strong allies will be essential.” He rose, adjusting his uniform neatly. “Until then, have a pleasant evening.”

With polite nods, the knights departed, leaving the group alone again.

Garf watched them leave, scowling bitterly. “I don't trust 'em. First real lead we've gotten on Gluttony, an’ suddenly those knights show up? Smells like dragonshit to me. They're probably here to snatch the glory.”

“We’re not here for glory, Garfiel,” Subaru reminded him patiently. “All that matters is taking out a Sin Archbishop. If Julius and his knights help us do that, I won't complain.”

“And if they become a problem?” Garf shot back.

“We simply ignore them,” Beatrice suggested lightly. “It's not as though you two are known for playing by the rules anyway, I suppose.”

Rem leaned close to Subaru, determinedly supportive. “I’ll follow whatever you decide, Subaru.”

Subaru stretched with a yawn. “Let’s sleep on it. It's been a long day; everyone could use the rest.”

“I'll check on Patrasche before I leave,” Petelguese said, rising from his seat.

“Great. Beatrice, I assume—”

“Yes, I’m obviously taking the chance to get the attention I've sorely missed, I suppose,” Beatrice interrupted firmly, arms crossed with a possessive glare.

Rem pouted, jealousy flaring inside her. She wished desperately for a good reason to be the one by Subaru’s side. Someday, she was certain she'd have that chance.

Chapter 37: ARC 4 - Chapter 2: Busy Work

 

ARC IV

---

Chapter II:

Busy Work

---

“This is bullshit.”

Garfiel sat annoyed alongside Subaru and Beatrice in the local barracks. It was filled with regular guards—none of them proper knights. They looked distinctly out of place sitting here, waiting for those two overly clean-looking guys from the previous night.

The small office seemed hastily converted from an old storage room, cleaned superficially but still carrying the scent of dampness and faded paint.

Garfiel knew his boss had at least some history with that Julius guy, but he preferred actively hunting trouble rather than waiting around, hoping the knights would hand them some neat solution. Patience wasn’t exactly Garfiel's strong suit.

“Get a grip,” Subaru sighed. “We can’t search the whole city blindly. Julius is our ally—it’ll be good to coordinate with him.”

“I’d rather be out there huntin’ down whoever killed them cultists,” Garfiel grumbled. “Way more my style.”

Subaru didn’t reply, instead sighing again and tapping his foot restlessly. Beatrice, meanwhile, sat quietly in his lap, absorbed in her book. Garfiel could sense Subaru’s growing impatience as well. It felt insulting to be kept waiting like this. He cracked his knuckles loudly, unable to suppress his irritation.

Just as he opened his mouth again, the door swung open and Julius swept gracefully into the room. The knight appeared as pristine as ever, looking completely unbothered. Garfiel still wasn’t sure how he felt about Julius. Something about his polished demeanor was irritatingly smug. He wondered who would win if they fought—himself or this lavender-haired knight.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting,” Julius said smoothly, offering a slight bow. “There was an urgent matter to attend to.”

“Where’s your friend?” Garfiel asked bluntly.

“Hector had a task requiring his attention,” Julius answered with an unbothered smile. Garfiel felt his annoyance spike again, an urge building to punch that polite expression right off his face. It was probably that insufferable air of superiority radiating from him.

“Care to share?” Garfiel pressed irritably.

“I’m afraid that’s business solely for my order,” Julius responded calmly. “I would share if I could, but sadly neither of you holds knighthood.”

“I could kick half yer stupid knights' asses!” Garfiel snapped, fists tightening.

“Garfiel, cool it,” Subaru shot him a warning glance. Beatrice simply gave an irritated huff.

“Julius,” Subaru continued, ignoring Garfiel’s outburst, “it isn’t related to the Witch Cult, is it? If it is, we can’t help much if we're kept in the dark.”

“No, nothing of that sort. It's a political matter involving the local nobility,” Julius assured them. “Nothing that requires your concern.”

Subaru nodded, accepting the explanation. Garfiel wasn’t entirely convinced it was something they should ignore, but he swallowed his annoyance for the moment. This was Subaru’s show, after all, and Garfiel knew from experience that the boss had a knack for leading them straight into trouble.

“At any rate,” Julius leaned back, retrieving a key from his pocket and opening a drawer. From it, he removed a small black book, setting it down carefully on the desk.

Garfiel’s teeth clenched at the sight—a Gospel of the Witch’s Cult.

“This is one of the items we recovered,” Julius explained, frowning down at the book. “It hasn’t given us much information, but it confirms the cult’s presence here.”

“As unpleasant as that is, it’s not exactly surprising,” Subaru said, reaching out to flip through its pages. Beatrice, still seated comfortably on his lap, leaned in to skim the contents as well. “From what we know, the cult operates quietly in nearly every major city in Lugunica. Not that it’s widely known, of course.”

“Precisely,” Julius nodded. “Cult members tend to hide themselves exceptionally well, which raises the question: How did someone manage to identify and eliminate so many of them so quickly?”

Garfiel scoffed openly. He didn’t understand the obsession with finding whoever had been killing cultists. Whoever was behind this was doing them all a favor as far as he could see.

“A cheap imitation,” Beatrice said dismissively, turning her nose up at the Gospel. “Mother’s original books were infinitely superior, and certainly less fickle, I suppose.”

“Mother?” Julius raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“Long story,” Subaru quickly dismissed, shaking his head. “Regardless, nothing in this Gospel seems particularly useful. There’s nothing here about Gluttony or any specific plans the cult might have.”

“A shame,” Julius sighed, reclaiming the book. “Still, I do have another lead you might follow up on for me.”

“What would that be?” Garfiel asked impatiently.

“One of the murdered cultists was a city guard named Edward Minkin, a middle-ranking officer,” Julius explained. “He oversaw the northern gate, handling cargo inspections in and out of Picoutatte. He would have been perfectly positioned to allow suspicious shipments or individuals into the city.”

“You suspect contraband?” Subaru asked, thoughtfully.

“Precisely. Timothy Meyer—the nobleman we detained and who was subsequently killed—had arranged for numerous grain shipments recently. I have reason to doubt their legitimacy,” Julius elaborated.

“So, we’re warehouse inspectors now?” Subaru sighed. “Not the most thrilling work, but at least it’s something concrete.”

“Ain’t ya got a whole army of nitwits to handle that sorta thing?” Garfiel complained, clearly irritated.

“The guards are already stretched thin. Besides, spreading news of cultist activity and the potential threat of a Sin Archbishop could incite panic,” Julius cautioned. “Right now, we have little more than rumors and a few dead cultists. Disrupting a vital trade hub without definitive proof would be reckless—not to mention how evacuating a city bordering the Sacred Vollachian Empire might appear to their nobility.”

Garfiel growled softly but didn’t argue further, clearly disliking this more subtle approach but reluctantly accepting the reasoning.

Subaru sighed again, rising slowly, Beatrice adjusting herself as he moved.

“Fine,” Subaru conceded. “We’ll start by investigating these grain shipments. Maybe we’ll get lucky and uncover something useful.”

“Good,” Julius nodded, satisfied. “Keep me informed.”

“What’ll you be doin’ while we’re out runnin’ around doin’ your job, anyway?” Garfiel grumbled irritably.

“I’ll be questioning nobles associated with the Meyer family,” Julius elaborated smoothly. “It’s more appropriate for someone in my position.”

Reaching into his coat, the knight produced a neatly folded parchment and slid it across the desk. “Here’s a list of all the warehouses connected to the Meyer family—including several that might have been kept off official records.”

Subaru accepted the paper, quickly skimming through it before slipping it safely into his pocket. “All right, we’ll check them out.”

“Hector or I will visit you this evening to exchange our findings,” Julius confirmed, straightening his coat. He paused, a small smile forming. “Oh, and before I forget—I must commend your craftsmanship, Subaru.”

Garfiel glanced down at Julius’s side, noting the intricately crafted enchanted sword Subaru had forged for the knight. Its pommel gleamed in polished gold, the blade rippling with ornate patterns and runes carefully inlaid with gold, giving the metal a distinctive violet hue. Subaru had worked tirelessly on it.

“I meant to ask yesterday,” Subaru said, returning the smile, “how’s the sword holding up?”

“Magnificently—far better than the old one. I confess, I was concerned it might behave similarly, but this sword suits a Spirit user perfectly. Truly, I couldn’t have hoped for a finer blade,” Julius said appreciatively. “Lady Anastasia was similarly impressed with the craftsmanship of the gifts you sent.”

Subaru’s smirk deepened. “Glad to hear it.”

---

They'd split Julius’s list between them, Subaru reasoning it would be faster to divide their search efforts. Subaru had taken Beatrice with him, while Garfiel found himself paired with Rem, searching their half of the warehouse list.

Garfiel noticed Rem's frustration at being separated from Subaru, her obvious crush. Personally, he cared less about her love life and more about finding cultists to deal with sooner rather than later. Their morning had been wasted at three warehouses, all yielding nothing but irritated managers and skepticism over the warrants Julius had provided.

Now, as evening fell and the sun dipped low, they approached the final warehouse on their list. It wasn't explicitly tied to the Meyer family, but it was located suspiciously close to the slums—a fact Garfiel took as a hopeful sign.

“Seriously?” grumbled the sweat-soaked warehouse worker as Rem handed over the warrant. He was a middle-aged balding man with a thick gray mustache.  

“Look, just let us do our job,” Garfiel huffed impatiently. “This shit’s boring enough without some—”

“What Garfiel means,” Rem quickly interjected, her voice diplomatic, “is that we’ll be quick about it.”

The worker sighed, returning the parchment and stepping aside. “Fine. Just don’t slow my guys down—we've got a shipment from Pristella just arrived.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Garfiel waved dismissively, stepping inside to survey the scene.

This warehouse was smaller and rougher than the others they'd visited, crowded with crates, flour sacks piled high on pallets, and countless jars lining the shelves. The smell of mildew lingered, and the patched roof had clearly seen better days. Garfiel figured this was the place merchants without deep pockets stored their goods—not exactly prime real estate for cult smuggling operations. Still, he didn’t pretend to know much about criminal logistics. Investigations in the Sanctuary had been straightforward enough—especially with an army of obedient clones at his command.

Beside him, Rem stood alert, nose wrinkled as she scanned the busy workers moving cargo around. He raised an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued.

“You smell somethin’?” he asked.

Rem nodded slowly, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yes... very faint.”

“Could just be the boss,” Garfiel shrugged. “We both know he reeks of it—though that makes sense, seein' as how he’s glued to Moss-Hair.”

“Subaru smelled like that long before Petelgeuse,” Rem replied seriously, shaking her head. “But no, this isn’t Subaru.”

Garfiel’s eyes gleamed eagerly. “So... you sayin’ we might've finally hit the jackpot?”

“Possibly,” Rem confirmed, voice lowering cautiously.

Garfiel smirked, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. “Good.”

“Don’t go wailing on the workers… not yet,” Rem sighed softly. “But, I suppose if we find solid proof, dealing with them might not be so bad.” Her fingers tightened into a fist as she scanned the busy workers warily.

“Right. Let’s just focus on findin’ something first,” Garfiel nodded, returning to his search.

His movements were now more energized, though he still wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to uncover. The process was tedious, and he sensed several workers glancing warily in their direction. Garfiel would have loved nothing more than one of them giving him a good reason to start swinging. He was itching for a fight.

This restlessness lingered as he searched, poking through grain sacks, crates, and barrels, each as mundane as the last. A two-person search party wasn't exactly intimidating, yet he and Rem were efficient in their inspection.

After what felt like hours, they'd still found nothing significant, though the uneasy feeling persisted.

“Garf, help me move this,” Rem called, pointing to a large brass storage tank nestled in the corner. Beneath it were faint, half-concealed track marks, hastily covered by loose straw.

Seeing what she'd spotted, Garfiel cracked a grin. He flexed his fingers eagerly and approached the tank. Gripping it firmly, he judged its contents—probably water or imported oil. Either way, he'd make short work of it.

“Hey!” shouted the warehouse manager urgently. “Don’t start tearin' up the place! That tank weighs tons and it’s filled with imported oil! Just what do ya think you're doin’?!”

“My job,” Garfiel smirked sharply. “Though seein’ as you're all flustered, I think we oughta give it an extra-good look.”

Ignoring further protest, Garfiel yanked hard. The heavy tank scraped loudly against the floor, revealing a hidden hatch beneath.

“Well, well, what do we—” Garfiel started, but he leapt back instinctively as a knife slashed dangerously close to his neck.

The warehouse manager had lunged at him, blade in hand. Before Garfiel could respond, Rem whipped around with practiced ease. Her morning star flashed in a deadly arc, smashing violently into the manager’s ribcage. His torso caved inward, spraying blood as he crashed limply against a nearby cart.

“Filthy cultist pigs,” she spat venomously, turning to the other workers, eyes blazing. “Come on then, you bastards.”

Garfiel scoffed, mildly annoyed at the unnecessary rescue. He’d had it handled. Still, the thrill of combat pushed away any irritation. Even if every single worker turned out to be a cultist, it wasn’t as if they posed a threat. Between him and Rem, a hundred of these fools wouldn’t have been a challenge.

Several workers stood frozen, visibly stunned, but most quickly drew concealed blades from beneath their clothes. Of the fifteen present, it seemed nine belonged to the Witch Cult. The remaining six, seeing the sudden outbreak of violence, fled in panic.

“Shall we dance?” Garfiel cracked his knuckles, excited. “Rem, try t'keep a couple alive. Might get something useful outta them.”

Rem gave a grim nod. “Right. I'd love to question a few personally.”

Her morning star lashed out again, striking one cultist square in the face. His head exploded like an overripe melon, sending gore splattering across the floor.

Determined not to be outdone, Garfiel leapt forward, gracefully dodging wild blade strikes. A series of quick kicks and a hard right hook left another cultist crumpled and unconscious on the ground.

Rem was a whirlwind of lethal efficiency, killing three more cultists in rapid succession. The remaining two cultists rushed her desperately, blades glinting. Garfiel intercepted the first, driving his heel into the man's neck. A satisfying crack echoed sharply through the warehouse as the cultist collapsed, lifeless.

The final assailant barely reached Rem before her chain ripped through the air, severing his arm at the shoulder. The cultist screamed, collapsing to the ground and clutching the bloody stump.

Garfiel groaned in mild irritation as he knelt beside the wounded man, roughly applying water magic in an attempt to halt the bleeding. “We need at least a few alive,” he muttered.

Despite his half-hearted efforts, the man quickly paled, going limp within seconds. It wasn’t as though Garfiel truly cared; scum like that wasn’t worth much effort, anyway.

“Oh well,” Garfiel shrugged, glancing at the two unconscious cultists still lying nearby. “Least we still got those two.”

He scanned the carnage around him with a sigh. “What a mess. Those other bastards are probably runnin' straight to the guards right now. Looks like we’ll have some explainin' to do.”

“You two… won’t get to explain… anything.”

Turning sharply, Garfiel saw the warehouse manager still clinging to life, his face twisted into a bloody smirk. The wounded man slapped his palms against the ground, his voice a ragged whisper, “Goa!”

Garfiel’s eyes widened as a bolt of fire raced toward the hatch. Reacting purely on instinct, he lunged toward Rem to shield her, shouting a desperate warning, “Get dow—”

Boom!

An immense explosion ripped through the warehouse, shaking the ground violently. Garfiel barely managed a partial transformation, using his enhanced body to shield Rem from the brunt of the blast. Flames and splintered debris engulfed him instantly. His ears rang, vision blurred, and consciousness rapidly faded as burning pain overwhelmed his senses.

When Garfiel finally stirred, he groaned weakly, aware only of a searing pain around his leg. His body felt pinned beneath heavy rubble. Struggling weakly, he attempted to free himself, only for a powerful hand to grip the collar of his vest, hauling him roughly from the wreckage.

Garfiel gasped, coughing hard as fresh air filled his lungs. Dust and soot coated him entirely.

“Where… is Rem?” he choked out, eyes watering from the smoke and debris. He squinted upward at a cloaked figure standing over him.

“Your friend is fine,” the stranger replied in a gruff, steady voice. “She was knocked unconscious. You're both lucky to be alive.”

Blinking away the dust, Garfiel finally managed a clear look at the man. He was tall, with long white hair and a silver mask covering most of his face. Behind him, the warehouse had become a smoldering crater, several nearby buildings reduced to burning rubble. Flames roared around them, lighting the night in flickering orange hues.

“What the fuck…?” Garfiel muttered, dazed.

“It appears you stumbled upon a cache of explosive crystals smuggled into the city by the Witch’s Cult,” the masked man explained calmly, his gaze sweeping over the devastation.

“Wait—where’s Rem?!” Garfiel attempted to rise, groaning sharply when he saw a thick splinter of wood impaled deep in his right calf. Growling, he gripped the wood tightly and yanked it free with a harsh cry before channeling healing magic to close the wound.

“She’s over there,” the man assured, nodding briefly. “Unconscious, but thanks to your quick thinking and the barrier I placed between you two, she's relatively unharmed.”

Garfiel’s eyes snapped in Rem’s direction. Relief surged as he saw her lying a short distance away, breathing softly. The masked figure turned to leave, his cloak billowing slightly.

“Hold up,” Garfiel barked, staggering upright and favoring his healed leg. “You’re that guy Julius was talkin’ about, ain’t ya? The one killing cultists around town.”

The man paused, turning slightly to glance over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. “And if I am?”

“What do ya know about all this? Somethin’s goin’ down, ain't it?” Garfiel growled, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Obviously,” the stranger chuckled dryly. “If I were a betting man, I’d wager the Cult’s about to make its move. All the pieces are finally in place.”

“Pieces?” Garfiel scowled, stepping forward aggressively. “Explain yourself.”

“Your friend, Natsuki Subaru, is here now, isn’t he?” the masked man stated smoothly.

Garfiel stiffened, alarmed. “The hell you know about the boss?!” He reached out, aiming to grab the stranger by his cloak.

An instant before he could, a shimmering wall of ice erupted between them, forcing Garfiel back. Surprised, he spun quickly to see a petite girl standing there—small and slender, with long black hair and a pristine white dress that seemed to sparkle faintly in the firelight.

“That wasn’t very polite, Echo,” the masked man admonished lightly.

Garfiel tensed, debating whether to attack. Yet instinct warned him clearly: provoking these two was dangerous. He clenched his fists instead, glaring warily.

“Just who the hell are you two anyway?” Garfiel demanded.

“My name is Atlas,” the masked man replied coolly, gesturing toward his companion. “And this is Echo.”

In the distance, shouts rang out clearly—guards and emergency responders were rushing toward the scene. Atlas glanced calmly toward the approaching sound, clearly unfazed.

“Echo, we’re leaving,” he said softly.

“Yes, Papa,” Echo answered obediently, her voice delicate yet oddly detached.

In perfect synchronization, the pair gracefully leapt onto a nearby rooftop, swiftly disappearing into the night.

Garfiel briefly considered giving chase. Even injured, he felt certain he could follow them. But glancing back at Rem, he dismissed the thought. She was more important.

He rushed around the icy barrier, quickly kneeling beside Rem and carefully lifting her in his arms.

“Rem! Come on, wake up already!” he urged anxiously, shaking her lightly.

After an agonizing moment, Rem’s eyelids fluttered open. She stared up at him groggily. “What… what happened?”

Relief flooded Garfiel’s features as he gently helped her sit upright, steadying her carefully. He cast one more wary glance toward the rooftops, suspicion gnawing at his mind.

“I dunno yet,” he admitted grimly. “But somethin’ big’s definitely goin’ down.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 38: ARC 4 - Chapter 3: Highway Bandit

ARC IV

---

Chapter III:

Highway Bandit

---

Felt paced impatiently in her office while Flam stood near the doorway, her hands folded neatly and her expression as neutral as ever. The servant girl was waiting quietly for her sister to return with afternoon tea and the snacks that Felt had become fond of. Sweet rolls and tea had recently become a guilty pleasure—much to her own mild horror. She was beginning to realize there might be a few aspects of being a "lady" that she didn’t entirely despise.

“I’m pissed off, ya hear?” Felt shouted into the room, more to herself than anyone else. Flam didn’t even flinch; such outbursts had become commonplace in recent days.

Her progress as a Royal Candidate had slowed to a crawl—worse than a crawl, a near standstill. She had started out tied for last place, according to Carol’s estimation, and now she was firmly entrenched there. Even Emilia, whose backer Roswaal had seemingly abandoned her after the Sanctuary incident, had moved ahead. Emilia’s new supporter—a spoiled noble brat—had turned out to be far less controlling than expected, giving the half-elf an unexpected advantage.

Currently, Anastasia Hoshin led the race for the throne, with that arrogant bitch, Priscilla Barielle, right behind her. Despite losing her memories, Crusch Karsten remained a formidable contender who seemed to grow closer to regaining her former self with each passing day. Meanwhile, Felt had no money, no powerful backers, and despite her successful attempts at rallying the common folk, her overall standing had hardly improved.

Worst of all, she hadn’t seen or heard from that stupid man in weeks. When she finally did meet Subaru again, she wasn’t sure if she'd gut him like a fish and roast him over hot coals—or kiss him senseless. Maybe both.

“Your tea, my lady,” Grassis announced gently, entering the office.

“Thanks,” Felt sighed, storming over to her desk and sinking heavily into the cushions, feeling thoroughly deflated. “Extra sugar, please.”

Grassis obeyed, heaping generous spoonfuls of sugar into Felt’s cup before handing it over along with a warm appa pastry. Felt took a large bite from the sweet roll and stared absently out the window.

The Astrea Manor hadn’t exactly impressed her upon arrival. Considering it belonged to the family of the Sword Saint, she’d expected something more lavish. Instead, the estate was surprisingly modest, if not outright rundown. Perched on a hill overlooking the small town of Hakuchuri—the only town within the Astrea domain—the manor lacked any real grandeur. And now, they were the only guests there. Reinhard wasn’t the official head of his family; that dubious honor belonged to his drunken father, Heinkel Astrea, who had promptly kicked Felt’s entire group out of their residence in the Noble District.

The eviction had even forced Carol and Grimm out of her service, leaving her with just Grassis and Flam, both officially recognized as part of her camp. Felt quickly decided she had no fondness for Reinhard’s father. Perhaps, if she were lucky, he’d drink himself to death.

“Reinhard still busy bein' the Council’s plaything?” Felt grumbled bitterly, sipping her tea.

“He’ll be back in two days,” Flam assured her quietly while tending to the fire.

Felt merely grunted. Two days before, he returned to check on her. Right now, she was stuck reviewing the town’s financial records—a tedious responsibility she’d been saddled with by virtue of being a Royal Candidate. Heinkel had reluctantly handed control of the town’s governance to her, but only after firm insistence from the Council of Wise Men.

Felt would have preferred if he’d kept the task himself. Balancing books and examining ledgers bored her to tears, especially considering Hakuchuri wasn’t exactly bustling with economic activity. If managing the town had been more interesting, perhaps she would have enjoyed it. But as things stood, she wondered how the Astreas managed any income at all, given the poor financial state of their territory. It wouldn’t surprise her if the Royal Treasury heavily subsidized them.

Still, considering the monstrous strength of Reinhard, Felt supposed the kingdom likely viewed it as money well spent.

“How’s Rom doing?” Felt asked, swirling her tea.

“Still sleeping like a big log,” Grassis replied firmly.

She still had no memory of the giant who now occupied a room on the second floor, but she’d been asking about his condition almost daily. Even if she couldn’t recall their past, Subaru had assured her Rom was important, and she knew that once the big man finally woke, Subaru would surely return. That alone was enough to make her hope for Rom’s speedy recovery.

Felt sighed, reluctantly grabbing another parchment from the ever-growing pile of paperwork she'd been avoiding. It never seemed to shrink. She knew she needed to make at least some progress before Reinhard returned, or she'd be treated to one of his disappointed sighs. No doubt the stack would become even larger and more troublesome if she ever did win the crown—although she planned to make Subaru handle most of it as payback for leaving her behind to chase Sin Archbishops.

What she wouldn't give to be out there with him, rather than trapped in this stuffy office. Life had felt much more exciting with him around.

Looking over the paper, she raised an eyebrow. It was a report from the Royal Knights. She received them regularly these days, most being dull notices about bandits, Witchbeast sightings, or rumors about neighboring kingdoms. But this one was different.

“Julius was sent to Picoutatte. They’ve found some evidence that the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony might be appearing there soon,” she muttered aloud.

If that’s true, then Subaru must be there too, she thought, feeling her pulse quicken.

“Rumors like these crop up all the time, my lady,” Flam remarked calmly. “I doubt there’s any real truth to them.”

“But why send Julius?” Felt countered. “You don’t send your second-in-command somewhere for nothing...” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, glancing at the mountainous stack of paperwork. An idea was forming in her mind—one that was undoubtedly reckless and guaranteed to upset Reinhard. She smiled broadly. “We’re going on a trip.”

Flam blinked. “To Picoutatte?”

Felt nodded with a mischievous grin. “If something important is happening there, I wanna see it firsthand. Besides, even if it’s nothing, I haven’t visited yet. We can use this as a chance to make some introductions!”

Grassis shook her head worriedly. “Felt, you do realize Reinhard can’t legally travel to that city, right?”

Felt resisted the urge to groan. “Because it’s too close to the Vollachian Empire?”

“Exactly,” Flam sighed. “His presence there could potentially trigger a war.”

Felt’s grin only widened. An opportunity to travel without Reinhard watching her every move? The chance to finally confront Subaru and give him the earful he deserved? It sounded almost too good to be true. Even if danger lurked, she wasn’t going to improve her standings by hiding away in a crumbling old manor.

“Well, then Reinhard can stay here and watch Rom for us, right?” Felt declared confidently. “I’m in charge, and if I say we’re taking a trip, then we’re taking a trip!”

“What if Gluttony actually is there?” Flam asked cautiously.

“Subaru’s been hunting that Archbishop nonstop. If Gluttony does show up, we’ll help him kick some ass, take credit, and have the whole city shouting our praises.” Felt spoke with growing conviction. “We need to start taking risks. I’m done sitting around and doing things Reinhard’s way.”

Grassis exchanged an uneasy glance with Flam. “Who’s going to be in charge here while we’re away?”

Felt smiled slyly, tapping the stack of paperwork. “Well, we do have someone with more ledger experience than me around here...”

“That’s not exactly comforting,” Flam and Grassis muttered in unison.

---

Felt had enjoyed Conrad’s stunned expression when she called him into her office earlier that day. The older man had originally been hired as a smith to assist Subaru in his role as her forgemaster. Lately, though, Conrad had spent most of his time handling minor tasks at the town’s small forge—hardly the glorious position he'd expected upon signing up.

Despite his reservations, Felt saw it as a perfect solution. Even temporarily promoting the smith to manage the town seemed sensible to her, especially considering that she herself had risen from nothing more than a slum rat in just a few months, and she’d managed just fine—mostly. After a flurry of curses and a few promises, she’d left the bewildered old man behind her desk, clutching a hastily written note to pass to her sworn knight when he returned.

The look of anxiety on Conrad’s face at the mere thought of Reinhard’s reaction had been priceless. Felt figured she’d reach Picoutatte long before Reinhard could catch up, giving her ample time to do as she pleased without his meddling. As far as she was concerned, the plan was as flawless as she could hope for.

Felt rose from her seat inside the cramped carriage and slid open the wooden partition to address her driver. “How much longer?” she asked impatiently.

Otto glanced over his shoulder with a weary sigh. “We’ve just passed the fork in the road leading toward Flanders,” he explained. “We’ll stop at the next village. There’s a cozy roadside inn I’ve visited before—they make excellent stew.”

Felt grumbled softly to herself. She knew the journey would take days, but she wanted to get as close to their destination as possible before Reinhard inevitably started chasing after them.

“We’ll keep moving until nightfall,” Felt insisted firmly. “And I want us back on the road at first light tomorrow morning.”

With that, she slid the partition closed, sinking back into her seat with a frustrated sigh. She brushed her hair from her eyes and glanced around the carriage. It wasn’t that she minded traveling comfortably—especially without having to wear some ridiculous frilly dress—but she still would’ve preferred riding her own earth dragon south.

On the opposite seat, Flam and Grassis had begun playing cards to pass the time. They’d invited Felt to join, but she’d refused, choosing instead to read. Carol had repeatedly reminded her that if she ever wanted to be a capable ruler, she needed knowledge. The book she’d chosen today was about the Demi-Human War, and despite its dry title, she found herself unexpectedly drawn in.

Oddly enough, much of the history surrounding the war was vague, filled with conjecture and uncertainty. Felt was intrigued by the mysteries surrounding the events and couldn’t help but feel dismayed by the extensive bloodshed described within its pages. The main leaders of the Demi-Human Alliance, a half-elf named Sphinx and a lizardman named Cragrell Dawson, had been central figures in the conflict, which made her even more determined that her future reign—if she ever achieved it—would avoid such tragedy.

“I win again,” Flam announced triumphantly, scooping up the cards as Grassis let out a frustrated sigh.

Felt looked up from a page detailing fallen knights and their heroic deeds. “Are you two betting on something?”

“Yes,” Flam confirmed smugly. “Grassis now has to handle your laundry alone for the next week. And if I win this round, I won’t have to clean up Subaru’s guts when you finally catch up to him.”

Felt frowned. “You think I’m seriously going to kill him?”

“Well, you have been muttering about gutting him, strangling him, dropping an anvil on his head, using a hot poker to—” Grassis began to count off, only to be swiftly interrupted by Felt.

“All right, all right, I get it!” Felt groaned, rolling her eyes. “I only half meant those things…”

“Regardless,” Flam smirked, reshuffling the deck, “we’re playing to see who has to deal with the fallout.”

Felt shook her head with a weary smile, leaning back against the cushions. She still didn’t quite know what she would say—or do—to Subaru once she finally caught up to him. Whatever happened, she felt bad for whoever ended up losing the next hand.

“Reinhard is going to be livid, you know,” Flam said calmly, swapping a poor card. Judging by her scowl, her hand hadn’t improved.

“Well, he’s welcome to be as mad as he wants,” Felt huffed. “It’s not like it’s his fault I’m running off on my own. Besides, we're perfectly safe. Julius and Subaru are already in the city. Even if a Sin Archbishop shows up, it’ll be worth the risk!”

Grassis shook her head with a sigh. “He did promise Subaru he'd protect you.” She smirked, laying down a winning hand that caused Flam to mutter a curse under her breath.

“Whatever,” Felt muttered, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need Reinhard to babysit me. He insisted on staying glued to my side every second. I'd rather he go do something useful. Keeping him around constantly makes me look weak. Anastasia doesn't cling to Julius all day, so why should I?”

Flam and Grassis exchanged glances and shrugged but said nothing further. Felt knew Subaru wouldn’t approve either, but she didn’t care. He’d run off first to play hero and left her behind. At least, that’s what she told herself.

Glancing down at her book, Felt found the text far less appealing after her short break. She shut it with a frustrated sigh and turned her attention to the twins’ card game, crossing her arms in thought.

“Deal me in,” she finally decided.

As Flam swiftly dealt her cards, Felt studied her hand. It was five-card stud—a familiar game from her past. She’d gambled plenty before considering a career as a thief, although her sleight of hand hadn’t been good enough to fool the professionals. Still, she debated playing fairly against her companions; it would depend entirely on whether something worthwhile was at stake.

Looking over her cards, she smirked slightly. Not the best hand, but definitely not the worst.

“So, what exactly are we betting—” Grassis started, just as the cart jerked to an abrupt halt. Cards scattered as the twins scrambled to keep their footing.

“Otto!” Felt growled, pushing herself upright. She flung open the small divider, prepared to scold him, then paused when she saw the figure standing calmly in the middle of the road.

“What now? Some traveler desperate for a ride, or just begging to get run over?” she muttered.

“He just appeared out of nowhere,” Otto stammered nervously.

“Then just go around him,” Felt snapped impatiently.

“Hello there!” the man called cheerfully from the road. “I don’t appreciate being ignored. I prefer speaking face-to-face with those I’m addressing.”

Felt scoffed irritably. “Who the hell is this guy? Some idiot highway bandit?”

“I don’t know!” Otto repeated. “He wasn’t there a second ago—he just appeared!”

Felt clenched her jaw, aware they were racing against a Reinhard-shaped clock. If they didn’t hurry, she’d have to endure her knight dragging her back to “safety,” away from any excitement in the city.

“Hey, jackass!” she yelled, leaning further through the divider. “Move your ass—we have places to be!”

“Jackass?” the stranger echoed incredulously. “I’ll warn you now—you’re seriously testing my patience!”

With a clearer view, Felt studied the figure closely. He was thin, almost frail-looking, dressed entirely in white: a long overcoat lined with gold, matching trousers, and even white shoes. His short, colorless hair and pale skin further emphasized his odd appearance, topped off by unsettling golden eyes. Neither particularly handsome nor ugly—just uncomfortably plain.

Felt frowned. Whoever he was, he didn’t look like any bandit she’d ever seen.

“Yeah?!” Felt snapped back sharply. “Well, you’re testing my patience too, pal! Now get out of the road!”

“Felt, I really don’t think—” Otto began.

“I heard you were a brat,” the man in the street interrupted, his hands visibly trembling with agitation. “But I wasn't prepared for this level of arrogance. I tried being reasonable. And since I’m such a generous man, I’ll give you one more chance to obey!”

Before Felt could even think to respond, a sudden blast of wind swept through the air. She blinked, stunned—

“Frufoo!” Otto screamed.

A gruesome rain of blood and gore erupted around them. Where the earth dragon once stood was now nothing but shredded flesh, shattered bone, and splattered blood, the harness torn into countless fragments. All that remained of Otto’s loyal companion was scattered violently across the road.

“Now, if you’re done being insolent, I’ll be taking you with me,” the man said smugly, a chilling smirk curling his lips. “Unless, of course, you'd like to resist? Your companions would make a fine red mist—I’m already being overly generous by offering to let them live, so don’t push me.”

Felt could barely comprehend what had happened before strong hands from inside the carriage grabbed her, pulling her forcefully back inside. Grassis and Flam quickly restrained her as the girls exchanged frantic glances.

“Stay here!” they shouted simultaneously, throwing open the carriage door and leaping outside.

Felt’s heart hammered wildly in her chest. She had no idea what had happened to Frufoo—one second he was stomping impatiently on the dirt, and the next he was obliterated. She shook her head to clear her panic and scrambled after the twins.

“Wait!” she shouted.

The scene outside was pure horror. In mere seconds, Flam and Grassis were lying on the ground, covered in deep, bleeding wounds. Otto was screaming, gripping his left arm—or rather, gripping at where his left arm used to be. The severed limb lay several feet away.

Felt paled, struggling to make sense of the carnage. Everything had shifted from a calm, leisurely ride into a waking nightmare. The stranger standing before her had turned her world upside down in an instant.

“You know,” the man said thoughtfully, eyeing Felt appraisingly, “now that I get a better look at you, you’re not half bad. Perhaps I’ll take you as a wife. That girl has claimed you for her experiments, though... Is it worth the hassle?”

Felt couldn’t grasp the meaning of his twisted ramblings, shaking her head desperately as she rushed to Otto’s side. Pulling Subaru’s red scarf from around her neck, she frantically wrapped it around Otto’s wounded arm, tightening it with a piece of scrap wood to staunch the bleeding.

“Hey,” the man hissed dangerously, “are you ignoring me?”

She wanted to scream back at him, but the cold reality of her situation sunk in: if she defied this monster, he could easily kill Otto or finish off Flam and Grassis without a second thought.

“I’m… I’m listening,” Felt choked out, forcing herself to look away from Otto’s suffering and up at the dangerous figure before her.

He grunted, assessing her sincerity, then scoffed. “Maybe you can be trained. Either way, you’re coming with me—as a guest of honor, for now. I haven't decided yet whether you're worth marriage.”

Felt bit her tongue, her eyes flicking anxiously toward Flam and Grassis, who appeared to be in dire straits. She couldn’t even confirm if they were still alive. One wrong move, one act of defiance, and they’d surely be killed on the spot.

“Come along,” the man commanded, beckoning her impatiently as if she were little more than a pet.

Every fiber in Felt’s being screamed at her to lash out, to defy him—but she knew she had to remain calm, at least long enough to keep her friends alive. Swallowing down her pride and rage, she obediently followed.

Nearby waited another carriage, driven by a woman with long, curly blonde hair, dressed similarly in pristine white garments. The woman’s expression was empty and devoid of emotion.

“Number 192, keep an eye on this one,” the man instructed, gesturing lazily toward Felt, his voice dripping with condescension. “I’ll be going ahead. I expect you promptly.”

“My husband,” the woman responded mechanically, bowing stiffly.

Without another word, the man vanished casually into the surrounding woods, as if nothing unusual had happened. Something about his casual cruelty made Felt sick.

“In here, please,” the woman said flatly, stepping down from the bench and opening the carriage door. Inside sat three other women, each remarkably similar to the driver—identical, emotionless, expressionless dolls.

Felt hesitated, trying to process the whirlwind of horror and confusion she’d suddenly found herself trapped in.

“I—”

“It would be best for everyone if you complied,” the woman stated, her tone devoid of warmth or empathy.

Felt desperately wanted to refuse, to fight, to run—but one glance behind her at the devastation she’d caused forced her to reconsider. If she resisted now, she knew it would mean certain death for her friends.

I’m such a foo l, she thought bitterly, stepping reluctantly into the carriage. If only I’d stayed put—or never sent Reinhard away…

The door shut behind her with a cold, resounding click.

Chapter 39: ARC 4 - Chapter 4: War Cry

ARC IV

---

Chapter IV:

War Cry

---

“Is everything… going according to my plan?”

“Yes, Archbishop. Everything is proceeding exactly as you requested,” the hooded woman replied with a respectful bow.

The other hooded figures remained silent—obedient, unwavering, and perhaps a little fearful. Fear was a useful motivator for these minor servants, making them more pliable and responsive. Of course, long-standing members of the Cult required no such motivation; their devotion was absolute. But that bastard Greed had been different; he had required… assurances to participate in the Archbishop’s designs.

Lye had anticipated a tiresome negotiation to persuade Regulus Corneas to act. Communicating with that arrogant, greedy fool demanded the best and most charismatic of his personalities. Ultimately, Regulus had only agreed when it was made clear that removing the troublesome obstacle before them served both their interests.

Natsuki Subaru…

Lye had become obsessed with the young man ever since devouring the memories and name of that giant, Valga Cromwell. What a feast Valga had been—rich, filling, an extraordinary delicacy among a landscape of mediocre meals. The girl accompanying Valga had paled by comparison. Valga’s mind had been exquisite: a wealth of skill, experience, and insight. It had been the most delicious meal he'd enjoyed in years. Such a rare delicacy was far too precious to waste on his siblings; only the Gourmet deserved such a feast!

Yet, through Valga’s memories, Lye had learned of his adoptive son’s troubling suspicions. If Subaru truly possessed the ability to see into the future—or worse, loop back through time—it meant any plans involving him would be exceptionally difficult to execute. If Subaru could relive events repeatedly, he would quickly become an insurmountable obstacle. Such a risk was unacceptable.

Word of Subaru actively hunting him and his siblings had already reached his ears. Of course, Subaru desperately sought the return of his precious Rom. Foolish child—did he truly believe that a connoisseur like Lye would willingly surrender such an exquisite delicacy? No, the only real solution was to remove Subaru entirely from play. But how?

His initial thought had been to simply kill Subaru outright. However, a mere blacksmith apprentice transforming from an impoverished nobody to a master craftsman and apprentice mage in mere months lent credibility to Valga’s suspicion that Subaru held some supernatural insight. Yet, as Lye pondered further, he concluded that Subaru might indeed be looping through time rather than simply seeing the future.

Future sight had its limitations: Subaru’s knowledge had not always appeared perfect, nor had he consistently predicted every threat or setback. He seemed occasionally caught off guard. Thus, Lye reasoned that Subaru either experienced these events repeatedly or possessed severely limited foresight.

If it were the latter, removing him would be relatively straightforward. If it were the former, eliminating Subaru might be impossible—unless he identified the conditions necessary to stop Subaru from using his looping power.

From the memories taken from Valga, there was a clear, recurring thread of trauma surrounding Subaru. Moments of panic, fear, and dread appeared regularly around certain dangerous events. Lye considered each instance carefully:

Felt’s near-death experience, shortly after fighting the Bowel Hunter—Capella’s deceased pet.

Roswaal’s manor.

The capital, shortly before Petelguese’s attack on Arlam.

And… the White Whale.

Lye’s lips curled into a twisted smile, and soon he burst into laughter.

“All these events share something critical. Yes… deadly danger surrounds the boy each time. Perhaps his ability can only be triggered under very specific conditions. Could it be… death itself activates his power?”

His laughter grew louder, filling the chamber with an echoing, sinister mirth.

With this revelation, everything fell neatly into place. His plan crystallized perfectly, and nothing would stand in his way now. He had to account for every possibility; if Subaru managed to loop even once, it could mean total failure for the Cult. Capturing him alive was the only option.

Eating Subaru's name and memories was tempting, yet Lye hesitated. If Subaru had only endured death a handful of times, perhaps he could digest it without trouble—but given how inexperienced the boy was and the severity of the threats he'd overcome, it was more likely Subaru had died hundreds of times already. Such an overwhelming meal could have serious consequences. Far easier and safer to imprison him in a cell, ensuring he has no means to speak or end his own life.

With that goal firmly established…

“Send word immediately to the Picoutatte Chapter House,” Lye commanded with a wicked grin. “I want it broadly known that I intend to arrive soon. Assemble a large force, and make sure the girl, Felt, is sufficiently baited and ready,” he added, his smile widening maliciously.

The hooded woman hesitated slightly. “And… her knight, Reinhard?” A note of nervousness crept into her voice.

Lye adopted Valga’s familiar tone, confident and self-assured. “Knowing Felt, she’ll grow tired of Reinhard's constant protection. When preparations are complete, create a disturbance near the capital. Have our noble sympathizers demand Reinhard’s presence to handle the chaos we orchestrate. If Felt doesn’t take the bait, we move forward without our ace.”

“Yes, Archbishop,” the woman replied obediently. She bowed deeply before melting silently into the ground alongside her companions.

Taking a deep, satisfied breath, Lye’s lips curled into a hungry smile. “I’m certain there will be plenty to feast upon soon… Ah, I can hardly wait!”

---

Julius had been enjoying dinner as a guest of honor at the Regundra family’s table alongside Hector. They’d spent much of the day investigating how deeply the Witch’s Cult had infiltrated the city, carefully probing whether other nobles might be implicated directly or indirectly.

Julius felt at home here. Having Subaru and his companions combing the city streets had been an invaluable help—a task far better suited to their skillsets. While he supposed Subaru might handle the nobility passably, this delicate investigation required a subtler touch, a certain finesse that he preferred to exercise himself.

Their inquiries so far had suggested most nobles were completely unaware of the cult’s activities. This was unsurprising. Minor contracts in the city tended to trickle down to lesser nobility or smaller operations, such as the Suwen Company, keeping most powerful nobles safely insulated from questionable dealings.

Now here they were: two knights enduring an extravagant three-course dinner while the lord of the family rambled at length about regulations imposed by the capital. Julius had been carefully deflecting the man’s clear expectation that Julius was here on behalf of Anastasia to forge an alliance. He supposed the misunderstanding could be useful later, though he didn’t want to promise anything prematurely.

Lord Regundra was a corpulent man with pale purple hair and intense, dark-yellow eyes. True to his wealth and status, he wore extravagant garments dyed in rich purples and deep crimsons, heavy gold rings glittering on every finger. The man spoke boldly—often on topics about which he understood very little. Julius privately wished someone else had drawn the short straw of sitting at the lord’s right hand, feigning interest in tedious discussions of fluctuating silk prices.

Across the table, Hector sat beside the lord’s daughter, Diadora, who was making no secret of her attraction. Hector, ever dutiful, was too focused on their mission to do more than subtly encourage her attentions in hopes she might inadvertently reveal useful information. Unfortunately, the evening had yielded nothing meaningful so far.

Suddenly, an explosion tore through the city, rattling the dining hall windows and startling everyone present.

“What in the world was that?” Lord Regundra demanded, rising abruptly.

Julius stood swiftly, crossing to the nearest window. Peering out, he saw smoke billowing into the darkening sky from somewhere on the city’s eastern side. His heart sank. It was alarmingly close to the slums, precisely where some warehouses listed for investigation were located—the same ones Subaru and his group had been tasked with searching.

If it involves them…

“Lord Regundra, you must excuse my colleague and me,” Julius said firmly, maintaining his composure. “That explosion may be connected to our investigation.”

“More likely it’s some fool improperly storing volatile goods,” the lord scoffed dismissively. “Those low-quality storage warehouses are a stain on honest merchants everywhere. They ought to be outlawed entirely. Perhaps your Anastasia might consider such regulation one day?”

“Perhaps,” Julius replied politely, offering an insincere smile. “Hector.”

Hector nodded immediately, pushing back from the table. Diadora pouted at losing his attention so abruptly, but the young knight remained focused, quickly joining Julius as they hurried from the dining hall and into the uncertain night.

Departing the Regundra estate, the two knights swiftly found their earth dragons in the stables. Guiding them expertly through the bustling streets, they maneuvered past carriages and frantic citizens toward the city's eastern quarter. Soon they reached the perimeter that had been hastily established by the city guard.

After being waved through, Julius and Hector approached the ruined street. Smoke billowed from the smoldering buildings, while water mages desperately attempted to contain the spreading blaze.

Dismounting quickly, Julius spotted Garfiel and Rem standing near the edge of the destruction. As he approached them, Garfiel clicked his tongue and turned his nose up, clearly irritated. Julius ignored the half-breed’s reaction, his gaze sweeping the chaotic scene.

“Where’s Subaru?” Julius asked, keeping his eyes on the flames.

“No clue. He’ll probably show up soon, seein’ as there haven’t been any other big explosions,” Garfiel replied gruffly, scanning the rooftops. “But we did run into some masked guy and a girl. They threw up a barrier when the blast hit, saved our asses, then took off. Guy said his name was Atlas, and the girl’s was... Echo, I think?”

Julius rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Neither name was familiar to him, nor did he recall any notable individuals matching that description. Likely, they were aliases—perhaps foreign figures seeking vengeance on the Witch’s Cult, now drawn into Lugunica’s struggles.

“What happened here?”

Julius turned to see Subaru and Beatrice approaching, carefully observing the devastation around them. Given Subaru’s uncanny ability to stumble into trouble, Julius half-expected he had already uncovered some additional threat while exploring the warehouses.

“There was an explosion—likely a cache of explosive crystals—hidden in one of the warehouses Garfiel and Rem searched,” Julius explained grimly. “The workers there were aligned with the cult, it seems.”

“Subaru!” Rem exclaimed with relief. “Are you alright? Nothing bad happened to you, did it?”

“No, nothing exciting on our end, I suppose,” Beatrice huffed dismissively.

Julius nodded briefly. If Subaru had stumbled upon explosives, he would have certainly reported it. This incident might have been isolated—

BOOM!

Flinching sharply, Julius spun around. A fiery plume erupted from the opposite side of the city, illuminating the night sky. He cursed under his breath.

“We need to move quickly—”

BOOM! 

BOOM!

BOOM!

A series of explosions echoed through Picoutatte, fireballs blossoming into the darkness. Julius’s jaw tightened as realization dawned. The crystals discovered earlier were just a fraction of the cult’s true stockpile—and now, with their plot uncovered, they had no reason to hesitate.

But what was their ultimate goal?

“Hector!” Julius called urgently, turning to his companion. “We need to coordinate fire-suppression efforts and evacuate citizens immediately. The city will be in panic—let’s act swiftly!”

“What about us?” Subaru asked firmly, stepping closer.

“Your group won’t be best utilized fighting fires,” Julius stated decisively. “Stay near me. If the cult has something more sinister planned, the real attack will come tonight.”

Julius frowned deeply, watching as thick smoke rose all around them. The situation was spiraling out of control. If the Witch's Cult had planted explosive crystals throughout Picoutatte, fighting fires would be impossible while trying to find hidden bombs. Considering the Cult likely spent considerable time planning this attack, it could mean hundreds of explosives were scattered throughout the city.

“We don’t have enough manpower to search every building,” Subaru said, sensing Julius’s thoughts. “If there really are enough explosives to destroy the city, we’d have to evacuate everyone immediately.”

“But an evacuation would cause mass panic,” Hector interjected. “That might be exactly what they want. If we evacuate, the chaos and congestion would trap thousands of people in the main streets.”

“Leaving them completely vulnerable to slaughter,” Julius growled, clenching his fists. “For now, people will remain indoors until they realize their own neighborhood could explode next. We need to regain control of this situation.”

“We could withhold some information,” Hector suggested carefully. “Issue a shelter-in-place order and impose a strict curfew. Anyone caught outside their homes would be assumed a cultist. That might contain the panic.”

“That might work,” Garfiel huffed, doubtful. “But what if—”

WIZZZZZZZZZZ—BANG!

Julius’s attention snapped upward. A crude firework exploded above, showering the streets in debris and singed paper notes. Quickly snatching one out of the air, Julius scanned the message, his eyes narrowing in dread:

Picoutatte: We have placed explosives throughout your city. You've seen their power. If Natsuki Subaru is not brought alive to the City Center within 30 minutes, everyone dies. After these rockets stop, explosions will begin every 30 seconds until he arrives.

And for you, Subaru—we have Felt. If time runs out, she dies. She’s far away from here. You cannot save her.

Julius crumpled the note, feeling frustration and anger surge. Looking around, he saw citizens picking up the messages, murmuring spreading rapidly.

Suddenly, the sky erupted with sound:

WIZZZZ—BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Dozens more rockets burst, scattering countless notes across the city. Panic was inevitable. Whispers spread, eyes turning nervously toward Subaru, a few recognizing him.

An explosion every 30 seconds means they planned at least sixty separate detonations. Julius’s mind raced. These explosives must be controlled remotely—meaning there’s someone who can stop them, at least theoretically. But even if we hand Subaru over, there’s no guarantee they won’t just continue to destroy the city. Trusting the Witch’s Cult is madness… But do we even have another choice?

“I need to go,” Subaru said firmly, breaking Julius’s thoughts. “They have Felt—and the whole city—as hostages.”

“Subaru, no!” Rem protested sharply, stepping toward him. “Absolutely not! If the Cult captures you, you're as good as dead!”

“No,” Subaru replied, grimly shaking his head. “They don’t seem intent on killing me. Whatever they want might be worse, but what choice do I have?”

Julius clenched his jaw. Could he truly accept that?

“It is the logical move,” Hector agreed solemnly, watching rockets burst overhead. “They’ve demonstrated they can destroy half the city in minutes. We lack the numbers or resources to find and disarm the bombs—and there are likely traitors among the guard, considering Timothy Meyer’s assassination.”

“Boss, you can't be serious!” Garfiel growled. “The hell’s wrong with ya?! Just giving up?! How’re we supposed to just surrender to those bastards?”

“I refuse to let them take you away from me, I suppose,” Beatrice added, her small frame tense and eyes narrowed fiercely.

“I have no choice,” Subaru repeated bitterly. “Even if they’re lying about Felt, I can’t risk an entire city just for myself.”

Julius drew a deep, defeated breath, guilt clawing at his conscience. Forgive me.

“Very well, Subaru,” he said quietly. “We don’t have much time. The Cult must be close by—we need to reach the city center quickly.”

Subaru’s companions looked distraught, but Subaru himself seemed oddly calm, albeit tense. Beatrice, his contracted spirit, was visibly agitated yet made no attempt to stop him.

Guards formed a protective perimeter around them as the group hurried toward the city center. Chaos had engulfed Picoutatte; panic simmered just beneath the surface, kept at bay only by fear of the Cult’s threats. Julius knew the moment explosions began, terrified citizens would flood the streets toward the city gates—a nightmare scenario.

9 of 11

As they raced forward, Subaru’s friends frantically brainstormed ways to counter the Cult's attack, but their desperation yielded no viable plan. Julius himself felt helpless, especially as he watched the last rocket streak upward into the evening sky, the distant pop signaling impending doom. Julius began silently counting.

“One… Two… Three…” Each passing second tightened his chest painfully. “Twenty-eight… Twenty-nine… Thir—”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Four deafening explosions erupted across different city districts, each far apart. Julius cursed bitterly. With such scattered detonations, even predicting their locations wouldn’t help. They lacked the manpower, resources, and time to disarm so many bombs. If Subaru had no last-minute plan, what hope remained?

They burst into the central square, and Julius skidded to an abrupt halt, horror gripping him. Hundreds of unconscious people lay scattered across the cobblestone plaza, some slumped at tables piled high with lavish food and drink. Cultists in hooded robes laughed, ate, and drank recklessly among the lifeless-looking victims.

At the heart of this grotesque banquet stood a man in a dark green cheongsam, smirking cruelly. Julius watched, repulsed, as the man grasped a trembling young girl’s face and licked his palm. She immediately slumped to the ground, motionless. With a delighted sigh, he brushed red-tipped hair away from his twisted smile.

Julius’s stomach churned violently. His hand instinctively flew to his sword’s hilt, every muscle urging him to strike down the vile figure. Yet, Julius forced himself to resist, knowing a premature attack would doom countless lives. Their only path now was Subaru’s surrender. Julius silently vowed that once Subaru was safe and the city out of danger, he and Reinhard would track down these fiends and put an end to their madness.

Releasing his sword, Julius steadied his nerves, fighting down his fury as he stepped forward.

“We’re here,” Julius declared icily.

The vile man in green lazily shifted his gaze toward Julius, lips spreading into a sharp-toothed, hungry grin.

“Ahhh, just as my brother predicted,” the man drawled gleefully, licking his lips with sickening relish. “What a beautiful group of dudes—and ladies! I’m so, so, so glad you could make it to our feast. I apologize for the short notice, but as you can see, my dinner guests didn’t mind!” He laughed maniacally, gesturing toward the unconscious victims and the hooded cultists greedily devouring food and drink. “The inns here are so very generous—fresh fruit, pork, beef, chicken, noodles, wine, beer, liquor, juice! A city full of delicious treats!”

Julius took an involuntary step back, disgusted as the Archbishop leered. Maintaining his composure was almost unbearable.

“Oh, apologies, I nearly forgot, introductions,” the man smirked, “Representing Gluttony, I am the Sin Archbishop, Roy Alphard, my dudes and ladies.”

Rem, however, snapped.

“You…cultist bastards!” she screamed, summoning her spiked morningstar and preparing to charge.

“Rem, no!” Subaru shouted urgently, but she had already launched herself at the smirking Archbishop.

“Oh?” The gluttonous man grinned wider, spreading his arms in welcoming anticipation. “My dinner’s delivering itself?”

Rem was about to whip her morning star forward, but Julius could see the Archbishop wasn’t fazed at all. If anything, her attack would only endanger more innocents. Julius lunged forward to stop her, knowing the attempt was futile—she was already too far ahead.

Suddenly, the ground beneath Rem erupted violently, launching the oni into the air. Twisting mid-flight, the blue-haired maid tried to redirect herself toward her enemy, only for a figure to shoot forth and strike her squarely in the chest. Rem hurtled backward, crashing directly into Garfiel, who barely managed to catch her in his arms.

“Oh? What was—?” Roy started, visibly startled.

“Al Shamak,” intoned a deep, commanding voice.

Julius tensed at the familiar words—a spell?

“Subaru!” Beatrice screamed, panic rising sharply in her voice.

Spinning around, Julius watched as tendrils of shadow enveloped Subaru, rapidly engulfing him in darkness. Within seconds, he had completely vanished.

“W-What?!” Roy shouted, his casual demeanor replaced by sudden alarm.

Julius stood frozen, confusion gripping him as Beatrice continued screaming Subaru’s name desperately. Julius’s mind struggled to comprehend the scene. One moment Subaru was there, standing just beside him, and the next, he was utterly gone.

“Now,” the deep, calm voice resonated ominously from above, “we can get started.”

 

Notes:

Next Chapter: Soon

I've been swamped this month with both personal and work commitments. Sorry for the delay on this one; the next chapter should be out soonish.