Sliced by her cold gaze, Subaru trembled, unable to make a sound.
He no longer knew whether the tremor stemmed from anger, from grief, or from the torrent of emotions where both were hopelessly entangled.
Just, "No... I... for everyone..."
Crusch's assertion was completely off the mark.
The idea that he was motivated by hatred for the
Subaru's feelings, their very wellspring, had always, always, always been for someone else's sake. They had to be.
And yet, the words wouldn't form clearly after that, and hearing this, Crusch shook her head.
"You cannot deceive others with a lie you cannot even tell yourself. How else am I to describe the light now dwelling in your eyes but as madness, as killing intent? Are you aware,
"......"
"You've had those eyes ever since you returned to the mansion, haven't you?"
Was the keen observation laced with pity, or perhaps sympathy? Either way, hearing it provoked such a dramatic reaction from Subaru that he couldn't help but reach out to touch his own eye with a fingertip to confirm what he couldn't see.
And by doing so, he merely proved that there was indeed a part of him that couldn't entirely deny Crusch's words.
"I do not understand your fixation on the Witch Cult. Many have had their lives twisted by them. You are likely one of them as well. Your anger, your hatred, may be justified. However, that has absolutely no bearing on this negotiation."
"Even if—"
"Hmm?"
To prevent Subaru from dredging up a concluded negotiation, Crusch declared it over, yet he clung on. Holding one eye shut, she waited for him to continue, and he drew a sharp breath.
"Even if I do hate the Witch Cult, what does that change? Yeah, they're pests to the world. It'd be far better to kill every last one of them. I think that, I really do. But like you said, that and this are unrelated things."
The hatred that never faded, the despair that was never lost, the craving for Petelgeuse's death that nested within his chest—these flooded his entire body with a negative vitality.
He was fully aware that such feelings were not the kind to leave a good impression on others. But right now, those emotions were necessary to keep himself sane.
And he prided himself on being able to insist on what had to be done without letting those emotions sway him.
Therefore, "It probably won't be a reason to cut off the negotiation...!"
"The topic is straying again, Natsuki Subaru. The content about whether the origin of your actions is hatred is irrelevant to the merits of the negotiation. Although, it is very relevant to the point that you are unsuitable as a negotiation partner. You might find it hard to say it's entirely unrelated to the negotiation."
"...Unfit... what exactly do you mean by that..."
Through gritted teeth, literally wringing the words out, Subaru continued to press his question.
Crusch folded her arms and, with the indulgence of someone dealing with a stubborn child, broke down Subaru's inquiry piece by piece: "If we assume that the origin of your actions is hatred toward the Witch Cult, then your very approach to
Listen, Crusch said, raising one finger on her right hand above her crossed arms: "If Emilia enters the Royal Selection and her lineage becomes public knowledge on the world stage, it's obvious the Witch Cult as a doctrine will mobilize. Normally, you'd never even let those guys get a foothold, but there's no more effective bait for keeping their heads pressed down than this."
"You're saying I'm using Emilia as bait to get revenge on them!?"
"With your current behavior, do you really think screaming 'no' carries any conviction? Your eyes are filled with malice, and every word you utter oozes with killing intent. Neither of those are the kind that can be painted over, worn thin, let alone forgotten."
No, no, no, no, no.
Absolutely not—Crusch's words did not capture Subaru's essence in the slightest.
The root of Subaru's feelings stemmed from a desire to save someone. His murderous intent toward Petelgeuse was merely a necessary item required to achieve that end.
To suggest he had confused means with ends, that his gaze was fixed solely on that—it was the worst kind of suspicion.
If killing was the only way to settle things, then what was wrong with seeking the means to kill, the strategy to kill?
They deserved to die. They couldn't be left alive. He was in the right. He was trying to do the right thing, so everyone should be cooperating with him.
"My hatred has nothing to do with their evil! Those guys—they can't be allowed to live! That's why they should all be killed! That way everyone is saved! Everyone survives! No one has to die anymore, so they're the ones who should die..."
"I told you already, Natsuki Subaru. You can't deceive others with a lie that doesn't even deceive yourself."
Her voice was cold toward Subaru, who panted roughly, eyes bloodshot as he objected.
Crusch narrowed her eyes as she looked up at Subaru, still seated, shoulders heaving with each breath: "Claiming you're not driven by hatred, by killing intent, by loathing of the Witch Cult—it's unpersuasive."
"Why... not..."
"Don't you understand?"
To Subaru's hoarse retort, Crusch's eyes held unmistakable pity.
But Subaru, unable to grasp what she was trying to say, merely furrowed his brow—and upon seeing that, she lowered her gaze, unable to fully conceal her disappointment and dejection: "——You have never once said you wanted to save Emilia."
"——Huh?"
"Your words are laced with an inner darkness boiling beneath a surface polished to look like you want to save someone, that you want to protect others. At the very least, they don't match the person I saw in the throne room."
Unable to process the meaning of those words, Subaru let his gaze wander.
—That he didn't want to help Emilia?
That was impossible. Ever since he had fallen into this world and she had saved his life for the first time, Subaru had always lived for Emilia's sake.
What happened in the throne room, the incident at the training grounds, and right now—this very moment. If he left this situation unattended, she and the village would be lost. He was acting precisely to prevent that.
Absolutely, absolutely, absolutely—he was not being consumed by hatred— "You shall be permitted no further advance."
Without warning, that voice shattered the silence and was hurled at Subaru.
The instant his consciousness was shaken back to reality, standing before him was an elderly man with a straightened posture—Wilhelm. He stood beside Crusch on the other side of the table, and within the age-lined wrinkles of his face, a faint trace of pity seeped through as he looked Subaru's way.
That condescending gaze, that attitude, that expression tinged with sorrow—it grated on Subaru's nerves in a peculiar way.
"—Subaru-kun."
Amid the bristling emotions stirring irritation, Subaru felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to find
Her composed face bore a sense of urgency and a measure of sadness as she said: "Please calm down. Throwing a fit here won't solve anything. Even if you did, Rem would be no match for Wilhelm-sama."
"…Throw a fit? What are you talking about? Throwing a fit, something like that…"
"Hey, hey, hey, isn't that a bit much even for a kitty?"
About to say "No way I'd do that," Subaru was cut off by Felis, who shrugged and let out an enormous sigh. He pointed at Subaru's arm—the one Rem was not holding—with his eyes: "What good is gripping a teaspoon with a clenched fist like that? Your parents' discipline might have been lacking, but that grip is unacceptable, nya."
Only at Felis's remark did Subaru finally notice. His right hand was clenching the spoon that had come with the teacup placed before him. And not just clenching it—he was gripping it by the handle in reverse, in a violent manner as though about to smash it into something.
—When on earth had he done this?
"Just because I hit a nerve doesn't mean you should throw a fit. Even if you went berserk here, Rem-chan would be keeping you in check while Gramps cuts you clean in half, nya?"
"And I'd rather not give such an order. We've spent several days together, so political complications would arise. More importantly, the room would get dirty."
Though Subaru was in a position where he had nearly been insolent, Crusch looked up at him with composure. It spoke to the breadth of her character—and it also seemed to mock the feebleness of Subaru, who could only channel his anger into this tiny piece of metal.
All of it grated on him terribly.
"So you're saying you absolutely won't lend me your strength?"
So rather than an apology, defiant words came first.
Hearing that, Felis looked displeased and Wilhelm closed one eye as he looked at his lady. But Crusch herself responded to the question with a "Yeah," and: "Your claims lack credibility, and even if we cooperated, what we'd gain isn't exactly enticing. —Therefore, I'll be sitting this one out."
"The Witch Cult is coming. When that happens, the ones who'll kill the people in that village are you. You know what's coming and you're doing nothing — your 'sloth' will be what kills that village."
"What awfully arrogant words. Then, just one thing."
Spitting out that despicable man's defining word, Subaru glared at Crusch. Receiving that murky gaze, Crusch rose to her feet and looked Subaru straight in the eyes.
Her penetrating stare gave Subaru an unpleasant feeling, as though she were peering straight through from the depths of his pupils into the innermost reaches of his soul. And then: "I can more or less tell whether the person I'm facing is lying or not. I've never once been deceived by another person — and I'm rather proud of that."
Out of nowhere, Crusch began speaking of such things.
While Subaru's eyes shifted with suspicion, she kept peering into their depths: "Judging from that experience, you aren't telling a 'lie.'"
"Then..."
"You're stubbornly convinced that delusions — things you don't even believe to be lies — are the truth. —At that point, it's simply madness, the hallmark of a lunatic. That's what you are, Natsuki Subaru."
Right here and now, Subaru understood clearly that this negotiation had completely broken down.
There was no way he could accomplish anything important alongside someone who treated him as the same kind of being as that lunatic, that hateful man.
Above all else, his heart could no longer endure any more of this humiliation.
Through gritted teeth, with the corner of his lip bitten through, blood trickled down Subaru's jaw.
Seeing his wretched state, Crusch said: "Felis. You should heal him."
"I refuse!"
Rejecting it far faster than Felis could even move, Subaru spun around and left the chair. The destination he headed for was the reception room's exit: "It'll be dinnertime soon — won't you be joining us?"
"I ain't sitting at the same table as a lunatic. I don't know if you're some refined aesthete or a Kabuki fan or what, but that's way too far outta left field."
Matching sarcasm with sarcasm, Subaru placed his hand on the reception room door.
Turning his head back alone, he saw that Rem, having straightened her posture, was also bowing politely to them, "I apologize for the trouble, brief as our stay was. On behalf of the head of this household, I extend our gratitude."
"Is that your answer, milady... no, the answer of Lord Mathers?"
"Yes. I have been instructed to respect all of Subaru-kun's wishes."
It was an exchange that made no sense to Subaru. He couldn't see Crusch's face from where he stood. But the voice she directed at Rem, who was bidding her farewell, carried no small amount of regret.
It was a different emotion from the clear severance she had shown toward Subaru — and even that somehow felt irritating.
Catching sight of Rem approaching swiftly, Subaru pushed the door open.
It was a house he knew all too well. From here to the entrance, then out the gate and into the Noble District of the
"You got anywhere to go?"
"At best, try to be a good king. A dictatorial one."
He spat those final words over his shoulder, then slammed the door shut behind him.
And just like that, the negotiations with Crusch came to a wretched end.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ The negotiations had collapsed, and it was well past dusk when Subaru set foot in the Noble District.
The sun had already sunk into the western horizon, and a slow curtain of night was descending upon the world. Crystal lamps cast their glow at even intervals along the streets as Subaru stood with his arms crossed, leaning against an iron fence, waiting for Rem to come out.
"Damn it, every last one of them..."
He tapped his folded arms with a finger, growling the frustration from his mouth.
What played back in his mind was the exchange with Crusch from just moments ago — the bitter rechewing of that humiliation, of being played for a fool.
Swirling in his chest was the vexation of having failed to win her cooperation, along with — "Stubborn, unreasonable bunch... Why do they have to get in the way of what's right..."
A feeling close to inexhaustible hatred directed at those who stood in his path.
His plan to exterminate the Witch Cult couldn't possibly be wrong. That meant their refusal to cooperate was what was mistaken.
They hadn't witnessed that tragedy. They hadn't heard of it. They hadn't felt it in their very skin. That was why they couldn't understand.
That those people were vermin unworthy of being left alive.
"Forget it, just forget it. Forget the screw-up, forget those heartless people. Right now, focus on what's right in front of you..."
Rather than standing still mired in shame, he should honor even the small step forward he had managed.
To begin with, requesting Crusch's help was nothing more than a second-best option for Subaru. When it came to exterminating the Witch Cult, there were other candidates with a greater likelihood of success. That was— "I've kept you waiting, Subaru-kun."
Rem emerged through the gate to where Subaru had been tapping his foot in irritation. In her hands were the belongings he'd been using during the past few days he'd spent at Crusch's mansion—things he couldn't exactly just leave behind, and it was clear that Subaru had been waiting for her to come back after collecting them.
He'd stormed out with such a dramatic speech, so it would be pretty pathetic to turn around and come back saying, "Oops, forgot something." In Subaru's place, unable to return himself, he was greeted by Rem, who was cradling the luggage in both arms.
"Sorry about that. Here, give me the bags. I'll carry some too."
"It's fine. They're not heavy, and you're still recovering from being sick."
She flatly refused his offer. Normally, Subaru would have pushed harder, but in his current state—spreading his mental bandwidth across other tasks—he wasn't going to be stubborn about it.
He lowered the hand he'd immediately held out.
"Come to think of it, you're not opposed to leaving Crusch's place, are you, Rem?"
"No. If that's what Subaru-kun has decided."
"Yeah, well, it's a bit late for that now. No way I could sit around continuing treatment after all that fuss I made. The whole thing about debts and whatnot—I did Emilia-tan wrong."
Emilia had offered something of value in exchange, allowing her people to take charge of Subaru's treatment. He felt at least some guilt for repeatedly catching her off guard like this. After the Witch Cult business was settled and he'd reconciled with her, he'd need to have a proper conversation about all that. It'd be fine—surely she'd talk to him once Subaru had pulled her out of crisis.
And to make that happen, Petelgeuse absolutely had to die.
"Subaru-kun. Um, about the negotiations with Crusch-san..."
"They kept spouting a bunch of complicated nonsense about credibility and profit margins. Not a shred of human empathy. Who'd want to follow someone like that?"
He cut off Rem's tentative remark with a snarl and shut down the conversation right there.
Whether out of consideration for Subaru's feelings or simply not wanting to drag the topic out further, Rem let it be. Instead, she asked: "What should we do from here? If what you told me is true, there isn't a moment to waste."
"If?"
"—There isn't a moment to waste. Roswaal's mansion... shall we go back?"
Subaru latched onto that slip. Ignoring his interjection, Rem's question hung in the air, and Subaru propped his chin in his hand, shook his head, and said "No."
"If it's just the two of us going back now, we won't be able to do much of anything. We need to bring back a proper fighting force capable of standing up to them. And even then, we'll need some kind of backup plan."
Just Subaru and Rem going back alone would only replay the events from last time.
And even if they departed earlier than before, there was a possibility they could reach the mansion without encountering them—but— "Bottom line, the worry that the forces left behind at the mansion can't hold them off hasn't changed one bit."
Those who could actually fight were essentially just
The Witch Cult members under Petelgeuse were all armed, and while they didn't match Rem's combat ability, they were still in a dimension Subaru couldn't hope to compete with. The chances of the villagers and Subaru factoring into the combat strength equation were extremely slim.
"There's not enough people. Not enough fighting power. What the hell is Roswaal doing...?"
If he were here, that alone might be enough to wipe out the Witch Cult's forces if used properly. Yet, just like the time before and the time before that, there was no sign of him. Same with Emilia—where exactly were the two of them in that mansion?
"Subaru-kun, about Roswaal-sama… if things have gone according to plan since departing the Royal Capital, there's an extremely high probability he's not at the mansion right now."
"—! You knew about that? That Roswaal being away from the mansion was part of the plan?"
"Roswaal-sama was supposed to visit Garfiel's… well, a prominent figure in the territory, and was scheduled to stay there for several days perhaps."
"Damn it, the timing couldn't be worse! Is that why we can't deal with the attack?!"
Rem's answer confirmed exactly what Subaru had feared, and he scratched his head furiously, cursing under his breath.
Sure enough, that perverted lord had chosen the worst possible moment to be absent from the mansion. If that became the fatal reason the territory was laid waste to— "There'd be no room for excuses to Crusch, and it'd be a clear case of the lord's incompetence…"
As Subaru's impression of Roswaal—that he was a pervert but competent—was rewritten into the far more damning verdict of perverted and useless, Subaru's mind raced desperately.
In other words, now that the greatest fighting force, Roswaal, was off the table, the situation where they were overwhelmingly short on combat power, as outlined before, remained unchanged. This would be the same even if Subaru and Rem returned safely.
"As I thought, there's no choice but to bring back reinforcements."
He looked up and declared this with finality, then nodded at Rem, who was watching him with bated breath.
The course of action was decided. And neither of them had any time to spare. If they were to surpass the outcomes of the previous and the time before that, they would have to leave the Royal Capital by tomorrow at the latest.
Considering it had only just begun to get dark, they had about half a day left.
"Anyway, we have no choice but to reach out to anyone who might help. Rem, are you familiar with the layout of the Royal Capital?"
"I've been there a few times, and I scouted it with Subaru-kun for several days, so I know my way around reasonably well. …But who are we going to ask?"
"Isn't it obvious. —The most likely candidate. The handsome hero of justice."
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ There was no exaggeration in saying that
His martial prowess could only be described as divinely favored, and his strikingly handsome appearance was a blessing bestowed upon him by a goddess. His personality was gentle—he treated everyone equally and without discrimination—and above all, his sincerity was beyond reproach.
He was an absolute symbol of justice. Considering the kind of person he was, one who would never overlook even the tiniest wrongdoings, Subaru was confident he could secure his cooperation. That conviction was firmly planted in Subaru's mind.
The Witch Cult's members—their malice, Petelgeuse's depravity—it was all an affront to human dignity.
That was something that could never be forgiven, and Reinhard would never forgive it either — the very same thing Subaru himself could not forgive.
There was also the practical consideration that, unlike Crusch or
Standing before someone so earnest, with righteousness shining deep in his heart, to parade around with vested interests and try to negotiate — it would be utterly absurd.
If it was justice, then he would never permit the kind of negligence that would sacrifice the kingdom's citizens. And so, the breakdown of negotiations with Crusch hadn't even been a blow to Subaru.
Reinhard would surely take his side.
With that devastating swordsmanship, he would surely cut Petelgeuse's head right off.
Feeling his lips twist with anticipation and something even more viciously satisfying, Subaru set off at a slow pace toward him — and...
Upon arriving at the secluded estate, he would learn the fact that his hero had "departed the Royal Capital two days ago."
Night was coming.
Roughly twelve hours until the deadline to leave the Royal Capital.
Roughly four days until the mansion was attacked and that tragedy unfolded.
—Dark clouds were beginning to gather over this challenge to annihilate the Witch Cult.