——There was a woman. A single woman.
The woman was emotional. The woman was always crying. Sensitive to pain, she wept ceaselessly.
Her reason for lamenting was singular: she could not forgive her own helplessness.
All around the woman, conflict swirled. Fighting. Struggle. Seizure and loss.
No matter how many times she cried out, no matter how desperately she clung, no matter how she wailed or screamed, that sorrow would never come to an end. And so the woman cursed fate.
She cursed fate, cursed it, cursed it—and in the end, the woman realized something. That no matter how much she cried, it was all futile.
What she desired after that realization was pure, unadulterated power.
She craved the power to overwhelm others, to mow down everything. The woman threw herself to her limits, tormented her body, and raced onward to seize every last drop of strength she could, to push her sought-after power to its absolute apex.
What she needed was not the power to wound. Not the power to steal, either.
She sought a strength so absolute that no one could catch up. She believed that would end all fighting.
The woman who continued to shed tears wanted a power that would spare her from ever having to cry again.
She could not stop the clash of power against power while remaining powerless.
Her voice would not carry. Her wishes would not come true. Her laments were cast aside, and sorrow spread to blanket the sky.
*Why can they remain composed? Why can they hurt others? Why can they go on living after being hurt? Why, why, why can they not see that there is another way?* "Children are crying. The elderly are crying. Men are crying. Women are crying. Everyone is crying. And yet, why—?!"
To stop it all, she desired power with every fiber of her being.
She forged herself, endured any and every pain, and drove her iron will to its conclusion.
Eventually, the woman arrived. At a power without peer. At a realm of overwhelming might that would permit none to approach.
The woman who stood upon the battlefield screamed at the top of her lungs for the fighting to stop.
She subdued all power with power, crushed all lamentation with power, pummeled every last trace of malice with power—and raced onward for the sole purpose of stemming the flow of tears.
She punched those who gripped swords. She kicked those who relied on magic. She shattered and cut down those who bared their fangs. She ground to dust, one by one, every last one who sought battle.
But the more the woman resisted, the stronger she became—the more swords, magic, and fangs multiplied against her.
It was like a spiral. A spiral of combat.
No one possessed an answer for living that did not involve meeting force with force.
And so no one knew of any path besides fighting and winning.
"Why—?!"
Even she who thought that was, in the end, merely wielding violence.
With blood-soaked fists hanging at her sides, face spattered with splattered gore, the woman raised her eyes to the heavens and wept in anguish.
The fighting would not stop. Effort and struggle were all for naught—hers and theirs alike, their tears would never cease.
Into the heart of the woman who had run without ever stopping, despair finally descended.
Tears fell. They spilled forth.
Not the hot tears that had flowed without ceasing before—these were cold tears of helplessness and disappointment.
And yet, simultaneously, a different feeling surged up from within.
It stained the inside of her chest an inky black, and beyond that, her vision burned crimson, her head whiting out from the sheer force of the emotion.
The woman, still crying, would come to know the true identity of that feeling.
She would learn its name, learn the origin of that feeling, and understand.
She had never been crying because she was sad.
All along, she had simply been consumed by rage.
The name for that emotion—people called it anger. No—people called it *Wrath*.
Wrath at a world that forced tears. Wrath at people who would not stop fighting. Wrath at the absurdity of lives that would someday, inevitably, end.
*—I'll lay an iron fist into all of it.* Before she knew it, the woman had risen to her feet. She brushed the dirt from her grimy knees and began running once more.
She plunged into the midst of those still locked in battle, punched them square in the face, and screamed.
Stop fighting. Look at the sky. Listen to the wind. Smell the flowers. Live with your family. Live with the one you love.
For the first time, the woman's voice sent a tremor through the battlefield.
Fists that could split the earth, kicks that could make the sky groan—every last one was wielded to preserve life.
Wounds closed. Screams ceased. Knees buckled in warmth. Fighting lost its meaning.
Life returned to the ordinary, and the sound of weeping and wailing faded from the battlefield.
The people's tears stopped. The people thanked the woman. They raised their voices, waved their hands, and smiled.
But by then, the woman's figure was nowhere to be found.
Of course.
The woman still had things to do. She had no time to look back, no reason to stop her feet.
She sought a world where no one cried, where there was no conflict, where nothing was taken away.
Running, running, ever running, the woman continued to swing her fists.
Until every last tear had ceased. Until the hot droplets that dampened her own cheeks finally stopped.
——The *
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "————"
Once more, Subaru found a book of the dead that could yield new knowledge, and his consciousness returned to reality.
What flowed in from the opened book was but a sliver of the surface—merely a fragment of the battlefields the person whose name was recorded had once sprinted through, and the convictions they had held high.
Even knowing that—, "…This is heavy."
There was a sensation like formless lead settling in the depths of his chest, growing heavier by the moment.
A human life, regardless of who lived it, was one second for one second, one minute for one minute, one year for one year. There existed no yardstick to measure the density of a life—and precisely because of that, time always flowed equally.
There was no way to convey the accumulated weight of all that time through some shallow writing on paper, or through a memory transcribed by special technique.
And yet, even if what he was accessing was merely the thinnest surface layer, Subaru needed to endure without letting the flood of consciousness drag him under.
That was just how vast and heavy a person's footprints truly were.
"Subaru, are you okay?"
"…Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I just got a little lightheaded, that's all."
"That doesn't sound like 'fine'…"
"Found another one of the witches' books. This one's, well, one of the less crazy ones among the witches. She was a little weird too, but—"
"A little weird… You mean
"Okay, *that* one was seriously weird. Wait—you know about Sekhmet?"
He'd assumed that Emilia, who had encountered the Witch of Greed,
The *Witch of Sloth*, Sekhmet—a woman who let her reddish-purple hair grow however she pleased, thoroughly slovenly in appearance. But whatever her mannerisms, her temperament was the most level-headed of all the witches.
"If you know Sekhmet, what about the others? For instance,
"No, sorry. I only met Echidna and Sekhmet at the Crypt. And I only talked to Sekhmet a little bit."
"I see. Ah, it's fine either way. Even if it was someone you knew, the stuff you see in there isn't exactly pleasant."
Emilia drooped her shoulders with a small frown, and Subaru lightly tapped the side of the bookshelf.
The bookshelves that sealed away the memories of the dead were made of some wondrous material—neither wood nor iron—and didn't so much as flinch under the palm of his hand.
Currently, Subaru and his companions were continuing their methodical search through the archive of the third floor, *Taigeta*, fully aware that the countless books lining these shelves held the memories of the dead.
As for what they were searching for—that was simple enough.
"Still… I wonder where the stairs to the upper floor are."
"So far, we've got zero leads…"
Emilia tilted her head to one side; Subaru tilted his to the other and sighed.
The problem that was currently perplexing the entire group wasn't the *trial* of the third floor *Taigeta*, nor the next question it would pose—but rather, where the stairs to even attempt the second floor were located.
The white space that the Monoliths had projected had vanished, and the Great Archive of *Taigeta* had been opened.
Thanks to that, they had managed to reach a space equipped with a technique that let one touch the memories of the dead—a technique some would covet beyond measure— "But honestly, this place doesn't have much to do with what we need right now."
Finding the information Subaru and his companions wanted—sifting it from the memories of dead people whose faces matched their names, and memories they couldn't even choose actively—would take an astronomical amount of time and luck.
They had neither. Time, certainly, and Subaru didn't have the confidence to lie and say he was blessed with good fortune.
"So the info we want is probably on the upper floors."
"But we can't get up there. I tried jumping onto the top of the bookshelves, but that didn't work either."
"Emilia-tan, that's pretty bold of you…"
Subaru pointed at the ceiling and recalled what Emilia had demonstrated earlier.
In her frustration at not finding any stairs upward, she had leaped to the top of the outermost ring of bookshelves—the archive of *Taigeta* was structured so that the floor levels rose as you moved outward from the center, placing those shelves at the highest point—but even from there, she couldn't reach the ceiling.
Incidentally, when Emilia had landed atop the bookshelf, the hem of her short skirt had billowed quite daringly, but for some reason it had shifted in a way that kept everything hidden.
To Subaru's oblique observation, Emilia touched the hem of her skirt and said, "I learned from
"Part of me wants to praise Puck and part of me wants to scold him. It's complicated. …Anyway—"
The physical approach to forcefully reach the upper floors had already been tried and failed by Emilia.
In other words, the stairs had to be some kind of mechanism—a gimmick. It wasn't just the appearance of the archive itself; even getting to the next floor up required a separate step. They were really going all out with this.
Overdesigning to this extent would normally discourage challengers, but the architect
"I'd like to meet the designer. …Actually, for that matter, the guy's own face is a mystery too."
"—Subaru, might I have a moment?"
A voice called out from behind Subaru's head as he grumbled. It was Julius, who had been searching through the bookshelves on the opposite side from them. Seeing him approach with Anastasia in tow, Subaru raised a hand.
"Hmm? Did you find something?"
"Unfortunately, no. Since that first book, I haven't been able to find a single volume with a name I recognize. Your side seems to have met with the same result."
"That's not quite true. Subaru found another book and got all wobbly from it. Right, Subaru?"
"Emilia-tan's bragging, so I'll ride that wave—but yeah, that's right."
"I see. Take care of yourself."
Julius dipped his chin with an indifferent air, and Subaru touched his temple—still faintly throbbing—and grimaced. Watching the exchange between the two men from the side, Emilia said "But" and continued, "Julius and the others haven't found the stairs either. We're really, really stuck."
"I understand how you feel, Emilia-sama. …However, if this archive truly does contain the names of every person who has died from the past to the present, then it's far beyond what we can handle on our own. This is something that warrants a national-level effort."
Prefacing his proposal with an acknowledgment of their manpower shortage, Julius offered his suggestion with a serious expression.
Subaru had no fundamental objection to what Julius was saying. The
"The documentary value is off the charts. …All those historical gaps you love to dig into would get filled in considerably, no doubt."
"That's a secondary consideration at best."
Julius responded quickly to Subaru's quip, then fell silent for a moment. But he soon exhaled, murmured "No," and closed his eyes.
"To say I harbored no expectation whatsoever would be a lie. Forgive me. I had ulterior motives."
"Don't look so defeated—what's wrong with acting out of self-interest? If you go and reflect so sincerely about it, what does that make me, someone who acts with nothing but ulterior motives?"
Subaru, in principle, always expected something in return. He didn't believe he could throw away self-interest and act out of a sense of mission. Always looking out for himself—that was Subaru's operating principle and his policy.
Which was precisely why he could never get close to the noble knight archetype that Reinhardt or Julius embodied.
"It's not like you need to distance yourself from it. For that matter, as far as I remember, Anastasia's reason for wanting to become King was pure self-interest all the way. Am I wrong?"
"Mm-mm, you're not wrong. The reason I want to be Queen is because I want to satisfy my greed. Benefits just happen to flow to the people around me as a result. That's all there is to it."
Anastasia showed no sign of taking offense at Subaru's rudely phrased remark, and simply laughed. Then she touched her white fur stole, stroking its soft coat.
"But isn't it funny how Julius and I ended up as master and servant, given that? That's what I think—don't you feel the same way, Emilia-san?"
"Personally, I'd appreciate it if people on the outside stayed divided, so if you could just break up over your different artistic sensibilities, that'd be great… Ow! Emilia-tan, that hurts!"
"Don't say mean things. —I haven't really gotten to know Anastasia and the others any better than before, so I can't say anything careless. But no matter how admirable someone else's way is, I'll keep doing things my way, together with my knights."
At the words "my knights," Emilia pinched Subaru's sleeve and puffed out her chest proudly. Subaru's chest swelled at the sight of her profile, and he let out a long breath through his nose.
"I might be a pushover, but I won't lose."
"Nobody says 'pushover' anymore… Ow! That hurts!"
The instant he teased her, his arm was pinched, and Subaru bounced away from Emilia's little punishment. The sight of the two of them left Julius and Anastasia looking somewhat exhausted.
Julius in particular had completely dropped the self-reflective mood from moments before.
"…At times, I genuinely find you two frightening. I can never tell where the sincerity ends and the act begins."
"Emilia-tan is pretty much always sincere and serious, unlike me. That's what makes her cute, right?"
"I'll keep that in mind."
As Julius dipped his chin again, the derailed conversation came to a temporary rest. Anastasia clapped her hands together and steered things back on track.
"So, to go back to what we were talking about earlier… We said we should call in people from outside because we don't have enough hands, right?"
"Yes, exactly. At this point, most of our concerns about the Sand Dunes have been alleviated, and it should be possible to send a large-scale survey team into the Tower. If we could make some kind of discovery in this archive—not just finding the way upstairs—"
"That's the thing, though—I'm a little scared about that."
"Scared?"
Anastasia interrupted Julius's impassioned proposal with a lazy shake of her head. Frowning at the answer, his knight received a raised finger from Anastasia along with a "Huh?"
"I'd welcome more hands, don't get me wrong. Just patrolling this archive is exhausting. Especially for me—I'm short, so just looking up at the shelves makes my neck ache."
Anastasia tapped the back of her own neck, then continued with "But—"
"I'm not sure it's even possible to get a lot of people inside the Tower."
"————"
"Business 101 is putting yourself in the other party's shoes. Well, it's not just business—that's a fundamental life skill useful in any situation. So let's try doing that."
"Putting ourselves in someone's shoes? But whose?"
"The person who built this Tower, set up the *trials*, and placed
"That they're a twisted person, you mean?"
"I think they're totally twisted."
Subaru curled his lip, and Anastasia nodded in agreement.
At those words, the serious Emilia and Julius wore troubled expressions. But Subaru and Anastasia, who belonged more to the "personality-challenged" camp, naturally fell into sync.
Anastasia's reasoning struck him as entirely sound.
If a truly twisted person had deliberately raised the difficulty of conquering this Tower…
"Shaula! I've got something to ask. Get over here!"
"Master~? Coming, coming, right away~!!"
Subaru called loudly toward the far side of the bookshelves, and a spirited reply came back immediately, followed by a figure leaping high into the air. It was Shaula.
She stretched out both arms, her long ponytail streaming behind her, and came crashing into Subaru's chest with a beaming smile— "Mas-ter!"
"Whoa—"
"Ngyah?!"
Subaru managed to dodge the overpowered embrace with a deft sidestep.
Unable to kill her momentum, Shaula bounced off the ground, landing on all fours with a resentful glare.
"Ugh, Master is so mean!"
"No, I dodged just now not because it was you, but because the momentum was insane. Reflexes."
"Then would you hug me if I approached slowly!?"
"Huh? No, I wouldn't?"
"What do you mean, 'no'?! What's wrong with me?! I'm this glamorous! I'm this hot!"
"You're hot? Then yeah, that's exactly why."
Shaula threw a tantrum with her dissatisfaction on full display, pouting at Subaru's response. And as she sulked, from the spot she'd bounced off of, two young girls happened to approach.
Subaru's thoughts must have shown on his face, because Beatrice noticed and slightly increased the distance between herself and Meili.
There was a clear line Beatrice drew in how she treated people—Petra was the same apparent age (outwardly), but the difference between how she handled Petra and how she dealt with Meili was immediately obvious.
Of course, it was impossible to treat Petra—friendly, on their side, harboring genuine goodwill—the same way as Meili, who had originally been sent as an assassin from who-knows-where and had played a role in the destruction of both the Forbidden Library and the mansion.
"If you keep being that antisocial, you'll never make friends, no matter how long you wait."
"What brought that on all of a sudden? Besides, with Shaula going off the rails like that, we couldn't even have a proper conversation."
"Ah, sorry for cutting your conversation short. Did you find anything useful?"
"…Not particularly. And now that I think about it, it probably wasn't worth reporting anyway. Yes, that must have been it."
"—?"
Beatrice turned her face away sharply, cutting off Subaru's question.
Her subtly stubborn attitude made Subaru feel a pang of alienation, but rather than pressing her on it, it was faster to deal with Shaula, who had just gotten back on her feet after collapsing.
Shaula, who had been lying flat on the ground, stood up using only her abdominal muscles, did a squat, and said, "Well, Master being mean isn't exactly news. I'll just bounce back. My quick recovery is one of my signature traits."
"I appreciate that cooperativeness. Say, Miss Shaula, might I ask you something?"
"What is it? I don't just fall for anyone who isn't my Master, you know~."
"You are certainly an attractive woman, but I'll invite you to dine on another occasion. —I'd like to confirm a few things about the situation surrounding this Tower."
Julius elegantly deflected Shaula's declaration of her unwavering commitment with a graceful courtship line. Shaula, perhaps not expecting that response, let her eyes go wide—quite unlike her—and answered with uncharacteristic honesty, "Ah, sure."
"My thanks. Then, to start—do you happen to know where the stairs from here to the second floor are?"
"The stairs to the second floor, *Electra*? Hmm? I've never gone above the fourth floor. I don't know."
"That's a pretty shocking thing to say."
If her self-reported claim was true, Shaula had been living in the Watchtower for approximately four hundred years.
During all that time, if she'd focused exclusively on watching the Sand Dunes and had never once explored the very Tower she lived in… that was loyalty so excessive it beggared belief.
Honestly, as someone who was being called "Master," Subaru found the situation deeply complicated.
"Julius, do you mind if I take over?"
This time it was Anastasia who stepped in front of Shaula, replacing Julius. The merchant's eyes reflected Shaula as she posed her question.
"You're the… well, to be precise, the guardian of the Great Library Pleiades rather than the Watchtower itself, right?"
"Great Library ~Keeper~."
"Right. Then, based on my calculations… four. Hmm, or five?"
Anastasia raised her right hand and held up five fingers. Shaula, unable to read her intent, blinked with a blank expression.
But— "The secret rules you've been told, Shaula—the ones meant to protect the Tower. There are five, aren't there?"
"————"
Anastasia's softly smiling words struck Shaula completely speechless.
Her eyes went wide, her shoulders jerked up—and that reaction, more clearly than any words, confirmed that Anastasia's suspicion was correct.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "For the record, I wasn't trying to hide anything! I just wasn't asked, so I didn't say anything. I want that on the record."
"Oh, cut the crap and tell us everything."
Subaru crushed Shaula's flustered attempts to explain herself after Anastasia had seen through her secret.
Under his heavy-handed pressure, Shaula pressed her fingertips together and said, "For example—hypothetically—if you and the others tried to sneak out of the Tower without telling me, I'd kill you all without hesitation."
"That escalated insanely fast!?"
"It's not like I *want* to do that! It's just an example! This is something I fundamentally cannot disobey!"
Subaru's eyes went wide at her unexpectedly hostile declaration, and Shaula shrank into herself, shaking her head. She plopped down and hugged her knees, flattening her ample chest against her legs.
"Me killing Master? That's impossible! I'd just end up getting killed instead, and it would be the worst…!"
"If it's that awful, just refuse—wait, you're not going to say something about a contract, are you?"
A bad premonition struck, and Subaru made Shaula say the word.
If he'd thought about Shaula's nature from the beginning, he would have realized this sooner. Sealed inside the Tower for four hundred years, serving as the guardian of the Witch's sealed shrine in place of the *Sage*.
Assigned a role that required extreme patience, and then actually carrying out those orders for centuries on end. —Not her lifespan, not her way of being. None of it was human.
"Are you some kind of spirit, like Beako?"
Bound by a promise that had never actually existed, Beatrice had been shackled to the Forbidden Library for four hundred years.
If Shaula, just like her, had spent four hundred years cutting down anyone who approached the Watchtower—waiting for someone who could meet the conditions and arrive— Perhaps she was the same kind of existence as Beatrice.
"Don't lump me in with those fluffy things! Being called a spirit alongside those airheaded types is the worst! I refuse categorically—wait, why is everyone looking at me like that all of a sudden?!"
"Because eight out of ten people here have some connection to spirits!"
After all, there were three Spirit Arts users, including the still-inexperienced ones. Plus one young girl who was a spirit herself, and one person currently being possessed by a provisional spirit. The only ones without any connection were the demon sisters waiting on the floor below, and Meili, who was watching Shaula with a mischievous expression for some reason.
Shaula's remarks were not welcome for any of them.
But— "Then that raises the question—what *are* you? If you're not a spirit, there's no reason to be so desperate about keeping a promise."
"What are you talking about, Subaru? Whether you're a spirit or a spirit-user, if you've made a promise, you absolutely have to keep it! Promises are important. Now, repeat after me."
"Okay, that one was my fault, but it was just a turn of phrase—"
"Promises are important. Sa-ay it."
"Promises are important, promises are important, promises are important."
Subaru found himself on the receiving end of an unexpected rebuke from Emilia and had to repeat the phrase three times before being forgiven.
Setting aside Subaru and Emilia's absurd exchange, Shaula's rigid attitude was completely incomprehensible.
Really—could it be as simple as her being extraordinarily, almost absurdly stubborn about obligations?
"What matters right now is what Shaula has been ordered to do. You have a bad habit of letting conversations drift. You should be more conscious of that."
"As if I'm the only one at fault… Fine! Fine, I get it! I was wrong! I admit I was wrong—now spit out the important stuff, damn it!"
"Wow, that's totally taking it out on me, but that's more like it, Master. I'll talk."
Subaru pressed in with a pathetic expression, and Shaula gleefully clapped her hands. Then she cleared her throat and spoke in an oddly formal manner.
"Allow this humble one to briefly explain what I've been instructed. First—all challengers of the Great Library Pleiades are absolutely forbidden from leaving the Tower from this point on."
"Well, that's immediately hopeless."
"Don't worry! There's a proper way out! As long as you complete the *trials* of the Great Library and make it all the way down to the first floor, *Maya*—then it's perfectly fine. All okay~."
Shaula gave a vigorous thumbs-up.
"By the way, if this condition is violated, I transform into a killing machine with neither blood nor tears—so any promises I've made with Master become void. I *will* take action."
"So your top priority is that over a promise with me? That hurts."
"Wow—hurting Master! I've really leveled up! This must be evolution! The culmination of four hundred years!"
"I was being sarcastic!"
"So was I!"
The two of them snapped at each other sharply, then Shaula held up a second finger and began rhythmically wagging it as she continued.
"I'm bored of the long version, so I'll rapid-fire this. One—leaving before completing the *trials* is forbidden. Two—violating the rules of the *trials* is forbidden. Three—disrespect toward the archive is forbidden. Four—acts of destruction against the Tower itself are forbidden. Five… Oh, five… There isn't one."
"Four rules in total… but—"
Emilia took over Shaula's half-hearted explanation and turned back to Subaru and the others with a worried expression. Her anxiety and concern resonated with Subaru too.
What Shaula had said was largely within the realm of compliance, but there were several troubling points. The biggest issue was— "The one about not violating the *trials'* rules—that's the concerning one."
"It implies there are hidden rules we don't know about."
Subaru rested his chin on his hand, and Julius appeared to share the same opinion.
Regarding the *trials* of the third floor *Taigeta*—at least as far as the Monolith-based constellation puzzle went—no one had mentioned any specific rules to them.
If anything, the only thing that had happened was being declared disqualified the instant they touched the wrong Monolith— "Rules, regulations… It's got an unpleasant ring to it, doesn't it?"
"…The *trials* at the Crypt would prevent you from attempting them again until the next day if you failed. That's kind of similar to redoing the *trials* here, but maybe—"
Emilia cut herself off and hesitantly bit her lip. Her trembling violet eyes flicked toward Subaru, and he nodded back at her.
"If you've thought of something, tell me. I won't make fun of you no matter what you say."
"Okay, got it. So, you know how Subaru and Anastasia both said the person who built this Tower is super mean?"
"Your word choice sounds cute, but yes. So?"
"Putting yourself in their shoes is important, right? So if I try to imagine being a super mean person and think about what Shaula just said—this is what I come up with."
Every pair of eyes locked onto Emilia. She paused, licked her lips, and then pressed her hands together, pointing her fingertips at the ceiling.
"There are rules you have to follow—but you don't know what they are. …Doesn't that feel mean all on its own?"
"…You mean—"
"The idea is that we're supposed to proceed while *imagining* what the rules might be, and making sure we don't break them."
"————"
At Emilia's anxious words, Subaru and the others exchanged glances.
Seeing their reaction, Emilia lowered her eyes, framed by her long lashes.
"That's the kind of thing Echidna would do."
"…So Echidna's the first twisted person that comes to Emilia-tan's mind too. We really are on the same wavelength."
The supplementary remark only added to the credibility, at least in Subaru's mind.
Emilia's uncharacteristically twisted, human-cunning line of thinking—and it felt, to Subaru, like she was probably quite right.
Setting rules that must not be broken, while keeping their contents hidden from the challengers.
A trap with a thoroughly nasty personality and taste.
"By the way—are you the one who determines whether the rules have been broken?"
"I just sort of… know. If any of the conditions I just mentioned are violated, I can apparently tell. So you can't hide it. —Not from me, and not from Master and the others. Absolutely."
The latter half of her words were spoken with surprising solemnity, and there was weight behind her voice.
Not weight in the sense of Shaula's personal power. If anything, the opposite.
There existed a power that compelled *Shaula*—a being of Shaula's caliber—to speak these words.
"One pain in the ass stacked on top of another. At this point, it changes nothing."
"You occasionally make me envious—the ability to state things so definitively."
Julius sighed and muttered that. Subaru looked at the handsome man's profile, and he shrugged.
"I suppose the position of always having to face superiors does foster a certain kind of mentality. If so, that's a difference in experience I can't easily replicate."
"You should be more afraid of what's under your nose. Someday you're going to stub your pinky toe on a desk corner. I hope you do."
"Alright, alright—bicker all you like, but don't forget the main topic."
Anastasia wedged herself between Subaru and Julius, and looked down at Shaula, who was still sitting on the floor.
"So are we really done? Everything else is fine, right?"
"I swear. This time it's not a lie. And as long as these rules aren't broken, this body is mine. Wait, wrong. It belongs to Master."
"I don't want it."
"Rejected! But my heart is always by Master's side!"
"Don't want that either."
Anastasia double-checked with her hands on her hips, and Shaula emphatically stated her position along with a generous helping of unnecessary information. In the end, it seemed the agreement she'd made with Subaru downstairs—she would not harm Subaru and his companions—would be upheld.
Assuming the rules weren't broken, of course.
"Still… not being able to leave without finishing the *trials*… It really does resemble the *trials* at the Crypt more and more, doesn't it?"
"Well, in the worst case, couldn't we just defeat this hostile nutcase and be done with it? That'd be more lenient than the Crypt."
"Master wouldn't do that! He's kinder and more magnanimous than anyone! Oh no—lying is making my skin crawl!"
In front of Emilia's exasperated sighing and Subaru's, Shaula thrashed about, reaping what she had sown.
That was about the extent of what could be extracted from Shaula for now.
"Are you done talking~? Is it okay for me to stay with the naked big sister~?"
"Done, done. Go ahead, do what you want. …Man, she's really attached."
Having watched the conversation conclude, Meili—who had been outside the conversation until now—ran over to Shaula. She latched onto Shaula's thin shoulder and clambered onto her back once more.
It had become Meili's designated position within the Tower. For Shaula, who possessed the monstrous strength to shoulder a dragon carriage, something as light as Meili was practically weightless.
"Being near you just feels so calming, big sis~."
"Eh, I don't really mind. I guess I can look after brat number two."
"Number two?"
"Number two is this brat, and number one is that brat."
With Meili perched on her shoulders, Shaula pointed at Beatrice, designating her as number one.
At Shaula's exceedingly rude remark, Beatrice showed no reaction whatsoever. Normally, she would have flushed red and gone straight for Shaula's throat.
"Wait, you weren't part of the conversation earlier either. Something wrong?"
"————"
"Beako? Hey—Beatrice. Pull yourself together. I'm gonna kiss your forehead."
"…Do whatever you want."
"————"
She wasn't ignoring him, but her reply was utterly lacking in conviction. Not finding that amusing, Subaru narrowed his eyes.
And then— "Mwah."
"Mgyah—what are you doing!?"
Feeling a sudden urge, Subaru actually kissed her forehead—and the instant he did, Beatrice snapped back to reality, clutched the spot where she'd been kissed, and leaped backward. She stumbled. She stood. She stumbled.
"You're overreacting…"
"W-w-w-what do you mean, what am I—why would you suddenly do something like that!? There's no logic to it at all!"
"There was logic, and I asked for permission. You're the one I'm worried about—seriously, are you okay?"
Slightly stung by the sight of her desperately scrubbing her forehead, Subaru nevertheless worried for the girl.
Come to think of it, they were in a tower in the middle of a cursed Sand Dune. There was probably some kind of miasma drifting about that Subaru couldn't perceive—and it could be the cause.
"If you're feeling off, hold my hand. That should calm you down."
"That absolutely doesn't work in this context! Give me a moment to collect myself!"
Beet-red and shrieking, Subaru shrugged at Beatrice's outburst. Having his hand rejected did sting a little, but this was her normal demeanor. If something was really troubling her, he'd find another chance to ask.
"Now then, that leaves the remaining problem—"
"In the end, there's nothing to do but search blindly for the stairs to the second floor."
Julius picked up where Subaru left off as the latter turned to face the bookshelves once more.
He looked slightly deflated—the idea he'd raised about needing more manpower had been half-thwarted by the rules Shaula was bound by.
Unless they completed the *trials*, they would not be permitted to leave the Tower. Naturally, that meant they couldn't return to the Sand Dunes to call for reinforcements either.
Which left them with only one option: continue the search with the current group.
"Imagine searching for a grain of gold dropped in the Sand Dunes—that about sum it up?"
"A poetic expression that's unlike you, but I can straightforwardly agree with it."
Subaru and Julius, a rare occurrence, found themselves genuinely in sync over the daunting challenge before them.
Standing around on guard wouldn't get them anywhere. They needed to plunge headlong into this sea of books and search for a way upward—and just as they resolved to do so— "Hey, I just thought of something."
Emilia raised her hand slightly as the two were about to re-enter the archive with renewed vigor.
The two turned back. She tilted her head, pressed a finger to her lips, and said, "I've been thinking the whole time about how the person who built this Tower has a really dishonest personality."
"Your word choice sounds cute, but yes. So?"
In a near-déjà-vu repetition of their earlier exchange, Emilia added, "As for where the stairs might be—maybe…"
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "I knew it—the person who built this Tower is the absolute worst!!"
Standing before a staircase that rose tall and long—the one leading to the second floor, *Electra*—Subaru let loose an eruption of pent-up fury.
The stairs to the second floor—the hidden location Emilia had guessed— "Since I kept thinking about how the person who built this Tower has a dishonest personality…"
She'd wondered if they might appear on the fourth or fifth floors—places they hadn't yet explored.
Her guess was spot on. The stairs to the second floor had appeared in an empty space on the fourth floor, in the room right next to the green room where