Of the shelters that existed in the city of
Following Al's suggestion, Subaru and the others decided to start with the main avenue where the chances of finding people were highest, proceeding in order from there. They were required to exercise caution at every turn, doing their best to avoid combat whenever possible.
"I mean, it does feel a little excessive, though. That guy's in there, after all. There's no reason for us to be this spooked, is there, bro?"
"You can never be too careful. Our combat power is limited, and our enemies are formidable. We can't afford a single second of carelessness. Besides, we don't want to provoke them—or the civilians either."
Anastasia's opinion at City Hall—that public anxiety could escalate into riots, while undesirable, was not something that could be entirely dismissed.
Subaru's plan to loop through the shelters, gathering fighters while keeping tabs on the situation, was also a desperate measure to counter that very anxiety.
"Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever. …Well, can't really complain about being kept on the safe route. But when the fighting starts, I'm counting on that guy too, y'know."
"…You keep saying stuff like that, but can you really not fight? You made it this far to City Hall, didn't you?"
"If we're talking in binary—can fight or can't fight—then I'm on the 'can fight' side. But that's strictly within human parameters. If I tried to square off against people who've stepped beyond that realm, I'd be a mob NPC dead in the corner of the screen in an instant. Nope, nope, way too reckless."
Al rattled the seam of his helm and waved his only hand to declare his own powerlessness.
While Subaru felt some dissatisfaction with that attitude, at the same time, Al's resignation resonated with something in Subaru too. No matter how hard he tried, there were realms he could never reach.
When it came to surviving in this world—or perhaps their very bodies were fundamentally different from the start. No matter how much he trained, Subaru couldn't envision a future where he'd ever reach Julius's level, let alone Garfiel's. And Reinhardt? That was beyond imagining.
"But that's not a reason to refuse to fight, is it?"
"Isn't it? I think losing is a perfectly good reason not to fight. Ah, unless it's about leaving something behind or whatever. That's just not my character."
"———"
"Don't be mad, bro. What you're trying to do is admirable. I just can't do it. That's all there is to it. Oh, wait—"
Since both had their minds firmly made up, this conversation was going nowhere.
When Subaru fell silent, Al apologized for having upset him—then looked up, having sensed something. The figure landing in his line of sight was Garfiel, who had been securing the road ahead.
All four limbs touching the cobblestones, Garfiel had returned almost without a sound. He wrinkled his muzzle and said, "For starters, I cleared the way as far as three streets ahead. It's dead freakin' quiet—unsettlingly so. The fact that it's safe is what makes it suspicious."
As if to say the whole thing stank to high heaven, Garfiel snorted through his nose.
Subaru wanted to avoid a fight. But the fact that they weren't encountering the trouble that should have been there was just as unsettling. It was a contradictory state of mind, but the reality was that time wouldn't allow them to hesitate.
"There's no point agonizing over it. The shelter we're looking for is right ahead. Let's just get there ASAP. The road is clear, right?"
"Nothing's tripping my nose or my eyes. Can't be helped, I guess."
Garfiel scratched at his short blond hair and kicked the ground irritably.
Subaru started to nod, but Al silently shrugged his shoulders in wordless agreement.
Fifteen minutes had passed since they left City Hall, yet despite all their vigilance, the route had been entirely peaceful. Having braced themselves for the worst—that the
"Here's what I'm thinking—maybe the Witch Cult didn't actually bring many of their people for this assault?"
While running, Al glanced around the surroundings and said this. Subaru shot him a sidelong look and asked, "What makes you think that?"
"It's simple—they're short-handed on surveillance. You feel it too, right? For all their efficiency at seizing a city's weak points, the Witch Cult's security is sloppy. Allowing opposition groups to roam free is one thing. If they were dead serious about getting their demands met, they wouldn't do that."
"The textbook approach would be to lock down every area to maximize the odds of their demands being accepted. So why aren't they doing that? Is there some other goal?"
"Whoa, that's where my knowledge ends. But if I had to guess…"
Al started to trail off, casting his speculation aside mid-thought. But when Subaru fixed him with a hard stare, he likely smirked inside his helm, pondered for a moment, and then— "Maybe they don't actually care whether their demands are met or not?"
"Huh?"
"If they were serious about getting their demands through, they'd have locked down every last detail. But it's full of holes where the wind gets through—we both agree on that. So maybe they're not serious about their demands at all. Great if it works out. Fine if it doesn't. That sort of thing."
"What the hell is that…? That's just straight-up harassment!"
"Isn't that exactly what they do? Would it be out of character for them?"
At a loss for words, Subaru stared as Al responded in a distant voice.
That final question hit Subaru like a gut punch, and he couldn't form a denial.
—Straight-up harassment.
When imagining the depravity of the Witch Cult's followers, that possibility was far from laughable. The assault had seemed like it was always one step ahead, every move calculated to perfection—yet there were plenty of things that didn't add up.
When Capella and Aldebaran had clashed with them at City Hall, they'd clearly set an ambush for Subaru's group. And yet Sirius and Regulus were absent, and they hadn't committed their full forces. Not a single member of Subaru's side had been killed, either.
And the glaring deficiency in their occupation of the city—the very issue that had just come up—was proof that they weren't giving their all for the sake of their goals.
"Boss! Don't you listen to this guy's bullshit! You keep blowing smoke at our boss and I'll crush you, hear me?"
As Subaru's thoughts threatened to spiral into dark waters, Garfiel barked a rebuke from the side. His savage gaze swung from Subaru toward Al, who was running alongside.
"All you do is babble a bunch of meaningless bullshit. If you've got no will to fight, then shut your mouth! Whatever they're planning, we smash 'em, we stomp 'em, we crush 'em! That's all you gotta understand!"
"Aren't you taking that a little too far? I admit I'm not keen on confronting those people head-on, but saying it doesn't matter what they're thinking is going too far. Or what? Would knowing what they're planning be a problem?"
"You—"
A sharp crack of fangs echoed once, and Garfiel planted his feet as if gouging the ground. At the same time, Al stopped, and the two stood facing each other with an atmosphere that was anything but calm.
Subaru instinctively wedged himself between them, pressing a palm against each of their chests.
"Hold it! What the hell are you two doing? This is no time for in-fighting!"
"We ain't team, Boss. This guy is bad news—I'm telling you. It'd be better to put him down right here and now."
"I've got zero interest in volunteering for a fight, but I'm not such a pacifist that I'd practice non-resistance against someone who's fired up and ready to throw hands."
Garfiel cracked the knuckles of his fist; Al rolled his neck.
The aggressively belligerent air surrounding the two was drawing Subaru's anger up as well.
A prickling sensation radiated outward from his stomach, stabbing through his body, and the impulse to lash out—to punch them both down—took hold— "…Something's wrong."
He grabbed hold of his own overheating thoughts, stopping himself before he jumped to a violent conclusion.
His thinking was leaping too far, way too fast. And feeling this much hostility and irritation toward his own companions was anything but normal.
It was as though he'd been struck by the clash happening right in front of him— "No way…"
With emotions and thoughts refusing to obey his will, Subaru felt a chill race up his spine. He had felt that exact same revulsion many times before.
"Sirius's influence is reaching me…!?"
He slapped his own cheek, forcing consciousness to sharpen, and scanned his surroundings.
No sign of the archbishop in his sweeping field of vision. The grating voice wasn't grating his ears either. And yet a heavy, gloomy sensation was pressing down over his entire body.
"Hey—Garfiel, Al, stop! Take a deep breath and calm down. You have to realize it's abnormal to get into an argument this quickly. It's probably Wrath's influence. Our emotions are getting out of control."
"Huh? What are you talking about, Boss? This guy being annoying doesn't need a reason…—no, wait."
"———"
Garfiel was about to bite into Subaru's words, but he caught his own face with his palm. Slowly shaking his head, he blinked several times.
"…You're serious? Just 'cause I relaxed my guard a tiny bit…"
"That's Wrath's ability. Just to confirm—there's no enemy presence nearby, right?"
"Can't smell 'em, can't sense 'em… That much is certain. But—"
Precisely because he trusted his own senses, Garfiel's dread was palpable.
In other words, the range of Sirius's authority extended far beyond what they had imagined. If the archbishop was indeed entrenched in the control tower, then the reach of that authority covered practically the entire city. No doubt the intensity varied compared to what they'd felt in the plaza, but— "I see. So this is what it feels like to have your emotions messed with by someone else. Definitely don't want to experience this again. I get it—this is the worst."
Al, who had likewise shaken off the momentary flood of emotion, murmured this.
He looked at Subaru, tilted his chin, and said— "But bro, doesn't this mean we need to move faster? Could be bad."
"What do you mean?"
"We caught on because you pointed it out, and I was there to hear it. But the people in those shelters don't have that luxury. If this feeling is spreading across the entire city… the ordinary folks with no clue what's happening won't be able to hold onto their sanity."
"!"
Al's words conjured the worst-case scenario in Subaru's mind, and he exchanged a look with Garfiel. Garfiel, having arrived at the same conclusion, nodded back, and without another word both of them spun on their heels and broke into a full sprint. Their destination: the nearest shelter.
"Hey, hold up—!"
Trailing behind, Al hurried after them with a flustered air.
Frustrated by his own speed, Subaru kicked off the ground and paid no attention to anything around him. Garfiel's stride was sharper and longer, each step carving ahead of Subaru's—before Subaru knew it, he'd been left behind, and Garfiel rounded the corner three streets ahead and vanished.
According to the map, the end of that corner should be one of the shelters.
"Watch the road!"
"Garfiel charged in first and didn't find a soul! There's nobody!"
He answered the call from behind with a rough shout, and Subaru and the others arrived at the corner just a beat after Garfiel. Without breaking stride, they turned the corner—and a stone-built cottage came into view.
They charged toward the door, flung wide open without ceremony, and confirmed a staircase leading underground. Subaru sprinted down the steps, and the dim视野 opened up into— "You're kidding me…"
—a hellscape of blood pools, groans, and screams of anguish.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "Killing each other, literally killing each other… Only about twenty percent are still breathing. And even those ones need total rest. This is the worst."
Surveying the devastation once more, Al let slip a murmur with all emotion suppressed.
Sitting down beside him, Subaru couldn't muster the will to reply.
In the shelter they had rushed into, the evacuees who had gathered there had turned on each other.
The initial spark had probably been something trivial.
Crammed into a cramped space, frightened by the Witch Cult's demands.
Over the course of time spent like that, a dark thought creeps quietly into the heart. If we just keep sitting here, nothing's going to change. Maybe we need to do something.
A thought begets action, and action requires contact with others. But what that contact brings is not always something good.
The same thing that had nearly erupted between Garfiel and Al on the road had happened here.
Only Subaru hadn't been there to stop it. The argument accelerated, emotions crashed into each other, and the infection spread to those around them, which in turn fed back with the same intensity.
As it amplified in a vicious cycle, hatred and irritation toward one another became unbearable—and tragedy was the result.
"The survivors, I knocked 'em out and patched up their wounds. Burials for the dead will have to… come later. Boss, the call?"
"I made it. The
Subaru had underestimated the damage wrought by emotional amplification and contagion.
In an enclosed space like a shelter, with people sealed inside, the amplitude of the emotional waves crashing through their hearts was impossible to predict. There was no hoping for positive ones, and even if the emotions were negative, the degree of difference could be vast.
If it began with sadness or lamentation—something that didn't lead to active aggression—then perhaps it wouldn't spiral.
But if the first emotion to spread was something like anger, then the result would be the same as this shelter.
"They'd been told to seek shelter in these places as thoroughly as possible… but that may have ended up working against them."
If Sirius's authority functioned as some kind of emotional sharing and amplification, then the more people within its range, the more potent the effect.
Put simply: the people around you become mirrors, and every ray of light you emit bounces back at you multiplied by the number of mirrors. Replace that light with emotion, and the amplification went without saying.
Even contact with another person could lead to horrifying consequences.
Under these conditions, where anxiety and terror ran rampant, this was the authority that forced you into isolation.
"I'm going to be sick…"
"Boss, what do we do? I'm all for going shelter to shelter, but like this…"
Garfiel, having finished treatment and with sweat beading his brow, wore a troubled expression. Subaru understood the worry behind it and struggled to find the right words.
His thoughts wouldn't coalesce. The plan itself—to visit the shelters, request cooperation for the fight, and call on people not to give up—wasn't wrong.
But the urgency of the situation didn't afford Subaru the luxury of touring the city at a leisurely pace.
The very people who could be counted as fighters were the ones whose combative spirit risked inviting further tragedy. Given that the shelters were functioning as emotional crucibles, perhaps it would actually raise each person's survival rate to persuade them to leave rather than stay.
"But if we do that and the control tower can't be retaken, everyone dies."
These were shelters in the city of Priestella.
They had almost certainly been designed to withstand catastrophic flooding in the event the water gates were opened. In the worst case—if Subaru's group failed and the water gates were released—those who had left the shelters out of fear of turning on each other would not survive.
Whether they stayed inside or went out, there was no guaranteed safety.
"Boss…"
"———"
Garfiel's voice pierced through Subaru's profile, frozen in indecision.
It was the face and voice of someone seeking an answer, seeking salvation. In the darkness, grasping for a guiding light, searching for a beacon.
What could he say to that face?
He was groping in the dark too. In the gloom, Subaru was just as lost.
But what good would tossing out that kind of weakness accomplish? A tantrum, a lashing out—who could that save? If there was time for self-pity, then right now he should be offering at least one word that mattered.
Something—anything—that might help someone.
"Boss, boss, this and boss, that… you sure do lean on people a lot, like it's some kind of convenient spell, huh bro. Your whole dignified attitude is actually making me wanna cry."
But the one who suddenly shattered Subaru's unproductive silence was the one-armed man. Al, leaning against the wall, had been surveying the carnage—and now his gaze was fixed on Garfiel.
Garfiel was taken aback for just an instant by that blunt remark.
"Huh? What the hell is that supposed to mean—"
"You gotta ask? I meant exactly what I said. You zone out, toss the problem to someone else, and dump the judgment on him—must be nice. Is 'Boss' some kind of magic incantation? A superhero's name that'll fix any situation no matter what?"
Al cut him off, wearing an expression of mockery.
"You've been leaning on him this whole time, but does the guy standing here really look that great to you? In a fistfight, you're stronger. In a battle of wits, the girl with him is way better. As for luck—asking me to believe this situation is 'lucky' is a tall order."
"Shut up! Don't you go deciding what the Boss means to me! What the hell do you know about this person! About how amazing he—"
"'Amazing, amazing'—what are you, a child? What's so amazing about him? If he were truly amazing, this whole situation would've been sorted out ages ago. Or maybe he already knows how to fix it and he's just keeping us in suspense?"
Al refused to drop his needling posture as Garfiel shouted him down. Leaning in, peering up at him from close range, Al left Subaru with no comeback.
Emboldened by that reaction, Al straightened his back and continued: "Carrying everything on your shoulders and actually pulling it off—that'd be something. You'd have the makings of a protagonist. But the vast majority of ordinary people can't bear that kind of role. They're not strong enough. I can't, and neither can you, bro. So why does he have to carry all of it? You're not doing him any favors by piling that on. It's just sad."
"———"
Subaru couldn't quite grasp what Al was getting at.
Was he, once again, being swallowed by Sirius's authority? If so, what emotion was dominating Al's heart right now?
Anger? Sorrow? He couldn't tell. Al seemed angry, seemed lamenting, seemed almost amused all at once—which emotion had triggered this was impossible to pin down.
"Hey, bro. You've been agonizing over something this whole time. What is it?"
"…What is it? Well, it's—"
How to save this city. How to keep the people who'd taken shelter here from getting hurt.
How to rescue
"Your princess—can you give an immediate answer for that?"
"———"
At the disappointment audible in Al's voice, Subaru slowly raised his head.
Al was looking down at him with an unblinking gaze. Since he was wearing a helm, Subaru couldn't read his expression. And yet for some reason, he felt his chest tighten.
"I act for the sake of the princess… Priscilla. As for everyone else—bluntly speaking, I don't care. The only reason I'm teaming up with you guys is to raise my own survival odds and my chances of running into the princess. Pure self-interest."
"Al…"
"That's why I don't get how you think. This matters, that's a priority… pile that many things up and you can't see which one counts most. Trying to save everyone—that's just the stock excuse of someone who can't throw themselves wholeheartedly into what truly matters."
Al clicked his tongue, suppressing something within himself.
Even Garfiel, confronted with that intensity, couldn't bring himself to cut in. And Subaru, bearing the brunt of it directly, couldn't find the right words to throw back.
"Isn't the thing that matters most to you that silver-haired girl? If you just want to save her, you shouldn't be standing around fretting—you should be able to act. It's simple, isn't it?"
"…Don't give me that. The guy who took Emilia—I will absolutely kill him. But even planning that much requires calculations I haven't even begun. It's not simple at all."
"But it's way less to carry than trying to save everyone. Less weight on your shoulders means you can move faster, and both your reach and your range change. Am I wrong?"
Subaru's feeble resistance bounced off Al's biting retort.
"You think you're a saint or a hero? Because if so, you could at least dress the part."
Al shrugged and dismissed Subaru's confusion and hesitation as absurd. Listening to him, Subaru couldn't help but feel lost.
Back in City Hall, when Subaru had argued with Anastasia and made what was essentially a stubborn stand, the one who had backed him up was Al himself.
That pointless, self-satisfying rant—Al had been the one to nod along.
So why, now, was he reversing his position?
"What you're saying is completely different from before. Are you on my side or not? Which is it?"
"No, no, totally different. I'm not saying self-satisfaction is wrong. I'm saying the limit of that self-satisfaction is coming into view. The idea of saving everyone—this shelter's carnage proved it's wrong, didn't it? So just… give it up. Be honest. Focus only on protecting the people who matter and get out."
"Get out… Are you talking about running away? In this situation?"
"Is there something wrong with that? When you're up against something beyond your control, what's so strange about choosing to run? I'm going to grab the princess and get out of the city. I have no obligation to risk my life for the people here, and no reason to do so."
Al poked a finger under the collar of his helm, scratched his neck, and glared at Subaru, who was speechless.
"You should do the same, bro. Just save the girl… save Emilia, and run. The Witch Cult are pests no matter how many you stamp out—they just keep crawling back. They're like muggers. Get involved and you just lose."
Al's reasoning was one answer, at least.
That the Witch Cult's followers were pests—Subaru completely agreed. That getting involved brought nothing but losses was an undeniable fact.
But they were the ones who had come looking for a fight. To swat away the sparks falling on his head, Subaru had no choice but to act.
To Al, the reason for that action was incomprehensible.
Of course, there was the pressing situation of Emilia being captured. But even if she hadn't been involved, Subaru would not choose to run.
Why? That was the question—why— "Anyone else would do the same, bro. No reason it has to be you."
"If a kid ran out into a red-light intersection, you wouldn't stop to think about why before pulling them back onto the sidewalk. …I think it's something like that."
"———"
Subaru could tell Al had caught his breath.
He himself wasn't entirely sure whether that answer was the right one. But when he'd thought it through, those words had come out naturally, and the weight on his chest had lightened—that much was true.
"I'm not going to agonize over the philosophy. I'm here, so I'll do everything I can. I know plenty of things will be out of reach—I can see that now, looking at these people. But—"
Wouldn't it be cowardly to write it all off as things beyond his reach?
That was something Subaru must not do.
"Boss…"
Garfiel started to call out, his expression gentler now.
But he hesitated to utter the word "Boss." Having just been called out by Al for it, the resistance to repeating it was still fresh.
That small act of consideration made Subaru oddly glad.
And at the same time, an idea struck him. A flash of inspiration.
A brilliant move that might turn Sirius's own authority against itself.
"Garfiel, don't hold back. Call me like you always have."
"———"
"At first it was embarrassing, but I'm used to it now. I can't promise I'll live up to whatever you see in me, but I'll do everything in my power to deliver."
Subaru couldn't tell exactly what he looked like through the eyes of Garfiel's hopeful gaze.
But the fact that Garfiel could see hope in Subaru even at what seemed like a dead end was the result of Subaru's own actions. Just like the time he'd cursed a certain girl long ago.
So Subaru had to take responsibility for those actions.
"Y-Yeah… alright, Boss. Got it. I'll lend you as much strength as you need. So you don't gotta say none of that weak stuff."
"Right then. Help me out. We'll hand the wounded here over to the Iron Fang, and then I need to get back to City Hall right away. Anastasia's going to push back against it, I'm sure."
Brushing himself off and standing, Subaru clapped the nodding Garfiel on the shoulder.
Garfiel snorted and pressed his fist to his palm. Once Subaru had watched him do that, he turned and tilted his head toward the silent Al.
"I've made up my mind. It might not be in the direction you wanted, though."
"…Suit yourself, bro. At least until we find the princess, or until hanging around you guys stops being useful—I'm sticking around."
Despite having been flat-out rejected, Al answered without a flicker of displeasure.
Feeling that something about the man didn't quite add up, Subaru headed for the shelter's exit and prepared so that they could move out the moment reinforcements arrived.
Garfiel followed on his heels, with Al trailing a short distance behind.
Watching the two figures ahead of him, Al hooked his only arm behind his head for support and let out a long, slow breath.
"That's how it goes… answering everyone's expectations, over and over. Guess you won't know what that costs until you've been burned."