The reason
Originally, Ferris had come to the royal capital to petition the royal castle directly for the chance to join the investigative party heading to the reopened
It was during this time that Aldebaran's faction attacked the royal capital—the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony having been broken out of prison, and a fierce battle between the "Sword Demon" and the "Divine Dragon" erupting.
"There are things I would like to bring to your attention, and things I would like to ask your help with."
It was Otto, the domestic affairs official of
Of course, as a member of the Royal Guard during peacetime, he had his share of anger toward those who would disrupt the kingdom's peace. But lacking in pure combat ability, and with even his one saving grace—his healing magic—unable to help save his most precious master, what could Ferris really do?
In fact, when Wilhelm was subsequently defeated by the "Divine Dragon" and left gravely wounded, unable to regain consciousness, Ferris's convictions only grew stronger.
But even a Ferris like that was confronted with a situation that would not allow him to hang his head.
"It's been a while, Lord Felix."
Facing the maid who bowed with a curtsy—
In other words, she was living proof that one of the two curses burdening Crusch—"Memories" and "Dragon's Blood"—could be undone.
"…Then there's nothing left to do but try, isn't there."
Wilhelm, who had been struck down despite continuously encouraging Ferris as he sat by Crusch's side suffering and despairing over his inability to do anything.
Ferris agreed to the request, lending his strength to the "Aldebarstars," and decided to do whatever it took to stop Aldebaran's faction—even if it meant making enemies of the world.
Most of all— "I never imagined I'd end up being the trump card, though."
Covering his mouth with his hand to shield against the dust while battered by tremendous plumes of smoke, gale-force winds, and pouring rain, Ferris reflected on the unexpected role he'd been assigned.
Using Petra's power of "Compression"—which could instantaneously relocate targets or wrap up negotiations—the "Aldebarstars" kept repeating the cycle of transporting the wounded to Ferris, having him heal them, and sending them back to the battlefield, clawing ground against the enemy.
That job alone was quite a hefty role, but to be entrusted with being the decisive factor against Aldebaran, who possessed overwhelming power—something he never could have imagined.
To cast a continuously active healing spell on Aldebaran. That was the role Ferris had been given—the role of the trump card against Aldebaran, one where failure was not an option.
To put it in the most extreme terms, Ferris's understanding still hadn't fully caught up.
Based on what Petra and Old Man
Honestly, Ferris wanted to scratch his head and wonder what everyone was seriously deliberating about. If it were true, it would be far too invincible. No one could possibly win.
And that invincible power's undoing was supposed to be Ferris's healing magic—that made it even more absurd.
He thought it was far too much of a gamble.
Perhaps it would end up being nothing more than a foolish act of restoring to full health the enemy they'd all worked so hard to corner.
And yet, if—in the unlikely event—Ferris could become the decisive factor in this battle…
"Do not regret, Felix. Your heart is precious. Be proud of your talent… For it is the gentlest power in this world."
"…Your Highness."
There had once been someone who evaluated Ferris's power that way and was proud of it.
Even then, and even now, Ferris's power still fell short of the title of "Blue." But even so, he wanted to believe that not treating it as a curse and continuing to hone it had meant something.
For that sake— "——Roy!! If you're here, come out!! Eat me… Eat my 'name'!!"
From deep within the invisible dust, a voice rang out, buried amid the deafening roar of wind and the screams of the earth.
Ferris's healing magic had apparently demonstrated its effectiveness as a trump card. Aldebaran's visibly shaken state and this desperate scream proved as much.
But his opponent hadn't given up yet. —Ferris, too, propped up his thin knees and thought.
"What more can I do for the person I hold dear?"
△▼△▼△▼△ "Rigel. —
Shouting into the thickly billowing dust clouds, Aldebaran strained his eyes desperately.
The downpour, the violent wind, the rumbling of the earth—the surrounding sounds were all a cacophonous mess, impossible to distinguish. Relying on neither sight nor hearing, he screamed as though his throat would tear apart.
The abhorrent healing magic immediately soothed the throat he'd been screaming bloody from. Enduring the ironic mercy of that gift, he continued to shout at the top of his lungs.
"Roy! Roy!! Find me! It's Rigel! Natsuki! Rigel!!"
Each time the name left his lips, his soul was scoured as though by an invisible rasp—and yet Aldebaran shouted that name again, and again, over and over.
Natsuki Rigel. —The true name of Aldebaran, before he took on the name "Evening Star."
"——"
He felt nothing. Only irritation clung to the corners of his mind.
For Aldebaran, the name given him by parents he'd never once been called by was far less familiar than "Aldebaran," called to him countless times by the "
He no longer even knew what he had originally been. —But self-identification didn't matter. What mattered was how Od Laguna recorded this pathetic life.
Therefore— "——I am Natsuki Rigel."
Aldebaran acknowledged the name he bore nothing but hatred for.
Even if he rejected it, resented it, despised it—one cannot choose one's parents, and with them, one's given name.
"————"
Continuing to scream, Aldebaran desperately searched for Roy amid the billowing smoke.
Everything on the battlefield had been blown away by the preceding destructive gale. Aldebaran himself had been tumbled a fair bit, and the "Witch of Melancholy," Ferris, and Roy were no exceptions.
At present, there should have been no one else in the area capable of moving. But given that the opponent had kept their trump card, Ferris, in reserve until the very last moment, it wouldn't be surprising if they still had hidden pieces. —Now that Aldebaran's "Domain" had been sealed, that could prove to be the decisive factor.
"Damn…!"
He'd thought to at least use his Domain's imposition to target Ferris, but it was no good. The sensation of freely manipulating the bugs he'd grasped had grown further out of reach after being repelled by the "Witch of Melancholy." Even setting that aside, the targeting was highly random. He couldn't bear the thought of hitting the "Witch of Melancholy" again. On top of that, Ferris's healing magic—the spell continuously restoring Aldebaran—functioned by sourcing the necessary mana from Aldebaran himself.
And because that was now connected to "Aldebaran," it was essentially limitless.
"If I can't rely on the Domain…!"
Rather than struggling with the constraints, he might as well burn through his mana reserves entirely and use grand magic to sweep away the obstacles. The idea surfaced, and Aldebaran began to inscribe multiple formulae in his mind.
All of them were spells taught to him by the "Witch," knowledge that had remained sealed away because he couldn't afford the resources to activate them—but now, connected to "Aldebaran," they were usable.
Just as he had against Reinhard, he would employ them all to find a breakthrough without his Domain— "Ugh…"
—And the instant that thought formed, a surge of nausea flooded Aldebaran's mouth.
Dizziness and tinnitus so violent he nearly buckled to his knees, uttering "Huh?" Aldebaran frantically scanned his surroundings for an attacker, but no one was there. —And then he realized.
What had just made Aldebaran dizzy was the extraordinary pressure of a situation in which he could not afford to make the wrong choice.
That pressure was crushing the very core of his spirit.
"…You've got to be kidding."
Looking down at his trembling right hand, Aldebaran was struck speechless.
That at this critical juncture—when everything he had done could amount to nothing—at the worst possible moment when his body was in peak condition thanks to that detestable healing magic and the fastest, most accurate decisions were demanded of him—that his head had seized up from sheer pressure. It was a cruel joke.
But reality was no joke. Even if it felt like a nightmare, it was fact.
—Because Aldebaran had never once chosen something decisive without his Authority.
Before this battle—in the Vollachian Empire, during the Royal Selection, on the gladiator island, during the days with the "Witch" before that—Aldebaran's choices had always been optimal solutions protected by his Authority.
No matter what mistakes he made, he could redo them, pick a different option, and erase his failures. That was the way Aldebaran had lived. And now, that no longer worked.
"————"
How strong would the wind need to be to blow away the smoke without killing anyone? How much heat to evaporate the downpour? What impact to counteract the rumbling? From which foot—right or left—should he step out of this smoke for the best answer? Everything was unknown.
What he could not verify was terrifying.
Walking down a path with no guaranteed correct answer was the same as groping through the dark.
Aldebaran could not advance down such a path with no certainty of reward. —Because without his Authority, Aldebaran was nothing but a helpless puppet.
Neither of the two "Witches," nor the woman he cherished, had that puppet been able to save.
"——"
Once he started thinking, only dark thoughts crossed his mind.
Was making Roy devour his "name" truly the best move? Weren't there other cards he could play? Wouldn't it be better to use the curse mark as a shield, set Roy rampaging, and seize the opening? Finding some revolutionary way to die that could thread the needle between full healings? Or perhaps he should have fled through the dust clouds instead? Etcetera, etcetera—only his emotions were spiraling into panic— "— Look, once more, at what lies before you."
"————"
That spiraling anxiety was stopped cold by a sensation like a splash of ice water.
The fear and hesitation that had erupted all at once when his Authority was sealed, dragging with them the greatest regret he had buried in the depths of his heart—it began to smolder with heat.
As though touching it would burn him, as though its mere proximity would scorch his skin—feeling this ultimate intensity of heat alongside a sensation of freezing cold down to the very last drop of blood, Aldebaran exhaled.
"— Once again, mine—"
"…Stop it."
"— mine—"
"Stop it—!!"
Clamping his ears shut, averting his eyes, forcibly shoving it into the deepest recesses of his heart—he had managed to avoid confronting it directly until now. But when he was on the verge of being made to face it once more, Aldebaran screamed.
Rejecting the voice he heard, rejecting the smile he saw, rejecting the searing heat flooding in, he bared his teeth. —And in that instant, when he forced his eyes open, he caught a faint afterimage beyond the smoke.
In that fleeting moment, it was a figure shrouded in dust—but there was no mistaking it. Roy. The "Gluttony" Archbishop.
From this welling regret—from the worst situation currently engulfing Aldebaran, he had seen the one beacon of light that could pull him out. And in that instant, he broke into a run.
"——Roy! I'm right here! Come eat me! Eat my 'name'!!"
The hesitation that had made his step falter, the cowardice that had sought only to find a way to die, the weakness that had tried to flee to another strategy, the sloth that had doubted his own choice—all of it was shattered by the impact of that single moment's kick off the ground.
In this moment, Aldebaran dedicated himself to seizing the option that had appeared before him, choosing to flee from the most terrifying thing of all.
—Up until now, Aldebaran had always turned his back on the single, irreversible chance to "choose" that his Authority afforded him. And so, he had never known.
That a choice made while driven by desperation to escape the moment could never positively open up someone's destiny.
That was— "— Al."
The figure he had seen beyond the smoke—the existence that caught Aldebaran head-on as he lunged toward it in desperate flight, that embraced him fully—it was none other than Yae Tensen, who was supposed to be his ally.
△▼△▼△▼△ The moment Yae had been defeated in her battle against Rem, her "next" battle had already begun.
Being blown away, rolling down the slope of an iceberg formed on the frozen surface of the river, she had abandoned every stoppage technique at her disposal and put on her best performance as a near-death loser.
The purpose of doing so was— "— I do not intend to take your life. He would be saddened, after all."
When the oni girl said those words and activated her healing magic, Yae had won her first gamble.
Honestly, considering the ruthlessness Rem had shown during their exchange, Yae had thought, "And who's saying that now?"—but since she had actually survived, she had no room to complain. More than anything, if she so much as uttered a word of complaint, this precious chance would go to waste.
Unfortunately, Yae simply had no path to turning things around against Rem from this position.
Without understanding the mechanism by which Rem had neutralized Yae's flash in their final exchange, even a successful surprise attack might not have been enough to finish Rem off. That, too, would be nothing but a waste of this once-in-a-thousand-year opportunity.
Therefore, Yae's target was different. —It lay in her last, all-in act of service, to which she had poured her very soul.
Even Rem remained wary of a counterattack, keeping her healing magic to the bare minimum—enough to mend the bleeding wounds and stop the countdown to death. On top of that, Yae's limbs had been bound in chains, showing a thoroughness that would not allow her anything beyond the role of hostage or prisoner. —But even so, Yae thought, their awareness of what a shinobi could do was still too naive.
As long as it wasn't instant death, a shinobi would do their job even if their head was about to fly off.
Dislocating every joint in her body to slip free of the chains, and burning through her dantian to disregard even her near-fatal wounds.
By doing so, Yae had believed that even she—who had failed to fulfill a single part of her assigned role—could do one last thing for Al.
And then— "————"
—Yae's once-in-a-thousand-year chance arrived even faster than she had imagined.
A tremendous impact swallowed the Agzad Gorge and the surrounding earth whole, and amid the aftermath that manifested as storms, floods, and earthquakes, Yae moved.
Escaping from Rem, who had tried to shield her from the impact, Yae broke free of the gorge and reached the clifftop—there, she keenly felt the inadequacy of herself and all the other accomplices gathered around Al.
The entire gorge was obscured by a massive shroud of dust, and Al had not even reached the Great Mogelete Crater—he had been held up by the enemy almost immediately after ascending.
That was the suffering that would never have occurred if Yae, if Aldebaran, if
That was precisely why— "————"
The dust had blotted out her vision, the rumbling had drowned out sound, the howling wind had disrupted her sense of smell—but even in this space where all five senses yielded minimal information, Yae integrated what little she had and accurately picked out the target she needed to find.
Perhaps no one besides a shinobi could make fuller use of this situation. For the first time, grateful for having been abducted to the shinobi village, Yae dashed swiftly toward her target.
This time, to truly become his strength, no matter what— "——Roy! I'm right here! Come eat me! Eat my 'name'!!"
—She had thought, she had believed, she needed to be of use to Al.
"— Al."
She burst through the billowing dust and caught the man's body head-on. Feeling the heat of his body through her skin, its weight, the pulse of life itself, Yae was utterly bewildered by her own actions.
"— Wh—what?"
Aldebaran, stopped so forcefully he stumbled forward, peered at Yae's profile from just beside her and murmured in a tone of utter disbelief.
In his trembling voice there was astonishment and confusion—but Yae felt the same. —No, considering the resolve she had held just moments before, it could be said that Yae was even more confused than Aldebaran.
"I…"
She understood roughly the situation Aldebaran was in.
He had been cornered somehow and was trying to find a way out of this chaos. The key to that was "Gluttony"—and rushing to the Sin Archbishop in the dust clouds was the best and final act of service Yae could perform to help Al achieve his goal.
Knowing all of this, Yae had blocked Aldebaran's path. She had thrown her entire body into his way, stopping him dead.
Why? She asked herself, struck by her own bewilderment. —Yae had feared Aldebaran, and because of that, she had wanted him to die. She had been trying to ensure he accomplished his goal so that he would die. But now, with Aldebaran cornered as he was, perhaps Yae could kill him with her own hands. Was that why? Was that why she had stopped Aldebaran, wanting to make him suffer the consequences of the terror she had been made to taste?
"I…"
—*It's love.* The memory of Rem, who had answered without a moment's hesitation, flashed through Yae's mind, and Yae held her breath.
No. Absolutely not. They were both maids who wanted to help their master achieve his goal, but Yae's and Rem's fundamental motivations were entirely different. There was no basis for comparison.
But remembering the oni girl who had committed herself so wholly to her conviction—motivated by what seemed like the most absurdly enormous feeling—made Yae suddenly aware of a certain feeling of her own.
"I—"
Yae had wanted Aldebaran to die. Because the monster called Aldebaran had terrified her, and there had been nothing she could do about it.
But— "— I don't think I can bear the thought of forgetting you, Aldebaran."
—That she didn't want to lose him for all eternity.
△▼△▼△▼△ "————"
Given Yae, who had embraced him and spoken the reason why, Aldebaran was granted a blank.
He didn't understand. He didn't understand. There was too much he didn't understand. —Aldebaran's "Domain" should have broken Yae's heart, making her an absolute ally conditioned on his death.
His selfish trust in Yae had been betrayed at this ultimate moment.
Had she been waiting, biding her time for the perfect moment to betray him?
He didn't understand. He didn't understand. All he knew was that, with Aldebaran standing still, he would be caught up to. —By the voice he had most wanted to flee from, the one he had clamped his ears against, averted his eyes from, and shoved into the deepest recesses of his heart.
"— Look, once more, mine is the victory."
"…Priscilla."
At a moment when he should have been desperately scrambling for every possibility before him, a murmur escaped Aldebaran's lips—and it was not the name of the "Gluttony" Archbishop, nor of the woman who had stopped him, nor even his own.
In this moment where he should have acted, where he should have done something—yet had accomplished nothing, letting regret pile upon him like ash—once again, Aldebaran gazed upon a mountain of ashes.
"What…"
What was the victory, Priscilla?
You died. You died, didn't you? Dying means you lost. Dying means you couldn't fulfill your wish. The only ones for whom death isn't the end in this world are myself and
And yet, what exactly do you mean by "victory"? You were the last woman in the world who should ever have resorted to sour grapes, and yet at the very end, you resorted to them?
Why did you smile at the very end, Priscilla?
"The stars—"
"Huh?"
"The stars were to blame, Aldebaran…!"
Distracted by his own unanswered self-questioning, Aldebaran looked down to see Yae gazing up at him from within her embrace.
The urgency in her voice, the content of her words—Aldebaran's breath caught. He had often said that the stars were to blame, and Yae had heard him say it.
So was this payback? Now that she had stopped Aldebaran, was she throwing his own words back at him? —No. Yae's crimson eyes were telling him that was not the case.
In those eyes, a sincere glow lit with the same light as the "Witch" of old, and they were telling him: It wasn't Aldebaran's fault.
"— Wh—that can't be!"
A surge of white-hot fury welled up in an instant.
Everything up to this point, everything that had transpired, the merit and blame for how things had turned out—all of it lay with Aldebaran, with Natsuki Subaru, and there was no way it could be anyone else's fault.
And yet— "——Al!!"
A voice like silver bells—one that not even the dust clouds could muffle—cleaved through the instantaneous boiling of his rage.
△▼△▼△▼△ Emilia sprang to her feet, hurriedly leaping up through the gorge—and was staggered by the sight before her.
"I thought the shaking was reallly huge, but…"
The dust that filled her vision, the ceaseless roar of wind, and the trembling of the earth that was not subsiding but growing worse—she had been unconscious, and things had gotten dire.
But she wouldn't cave in. She wouldn't give up. There was no time for Emilia to feel down.
"I need to get to Al in a hurry…"
The role of stopping Al had been entrusted to her and Rem because everyone believed they were best suited for it. And Rem had sent her flying to chase after Al because Rem had placed her faith in Emilia.
Carrying all of that on her shoulders, she had steeled herself to help save Subaru and
Charging headlong into the dust clouds with all her might, Emilia spotted Al and Yae embracing each other beyond the billowing dust, and was once again taken aback.
Yae was supposed to have been stopped by Rem. And yet Yae was here, which meant—Emilia was worried about Rem. Ferris had cast a powerful healing spell he called a charm, but she was still concerned about her safety.
"If I can just—"
She would catch up and get answers. But the moment she kicked off the ground with such force—from beyond the embracing pair of Al and Yae, beyond the dust clouds, a massive change was bearing down upon them.
This was the source of the tremors that had never subsided under her feet, the screams of the earth that had continued without end. The ground shook violently as an enormous wall of flash flood waters surged toward them.
Seeing it about to sweep the battlefield, sweep everything away without mercy, Emilia instinctively kicked off harder— "——Al!!"
He looked up sharply at her call, and their eyes met through the haze of his helmet. Emilia soared over the heads of the embracing pair, positioning herself directly in the path of the oncoming torrent.
And then— "— Icicle Line!"
△▼△▼△▼△ "————"
The atmosphere itself let out a shrill scream as an unbelievable scale of freezing was unleashed upon the flood.
What had been bearing down was a deluge on a mythic level—as though someone had upended a great lake like a bucket. And the silver-haired, beautiful young girl stood against it, freezing the incoming torrent chunk by chunk, building a glacier.
"Hyaaaaaah—!!"
But it was a losing tug-of-war between freezing and flood.
The cold Emilia generated froze parts of the torrent, but new waves climbed over the frozen sections, and Emilia froze those in turn. What this repeated cycle produced was an ice umbrella formed by the freezing, and upon it, a vast glacier that flowed and spread endlessly.
"Uwaaaah—!!"
Starting from Emilia, who radiated cold, the ice umbrella expanded in a circle, growing along the flow of the flood, spreading over Aldebaran's head before finally passing beyond.
The larger it grew, the heavier it became; the umbrella cracked, and a collapse under its own immense weight was only a matter of time— "————"
For a brief moment, Emilia and Aldebaran's eyes met.
Whatever Aldebaran thought in that moment, Emilia's lips pressed tightly together— "Urrrryyyaaaah—!!"
The groaning, cracking ice umbrella was reinforced, and the glacier's construction—which should have been on the verge of collapse—continued onward. Ice pillars rose from the ground one after another to prop up the sagging structure, a testament to Emilia's ingenuity. But Aldebaran's attention was elsewhere.
Emilia, who called herself the "Witch of Frost" and truly wielded power befitting the title. But if the reason Emilia was now exerting power beyond her limits traced back to that exchange of glances— The same way she had set the boulder trap in the gorge and shielded Aldebaran from it—if Emilia was now unleashing her power to protect Aldebaran— He realized it, even now, far too late. —Emilia had been watching Aldebaran the entire time, and had been trying to talk to him.
"I…"
A hoarse voice leaked from his throat, unable to continue.
But he felt that there had been a massive, irreparable misunderstanding—one that had already begun before his Authority was sealed, one that could no longer be undone or retrieved.
"— Look, once more, mine is the victory."
What victory? In the end, he still didn't know.
But Priscilla—saying that, smiling triumphantly as you were—you truly— "— That's enough."
—In that instant, an unreasonable hammer that swept everything aside pierced the battlefield as a pillar of light.