——Subaru felt the unpleasant sweat slowly trickling down his forehead.
How many times had he advanced alone through the pitch-black forest now? If he counted being chased by Ulgarm and the sunset tag game with
That said, the circumstances each time had always been urgent, and he had no memories of walking the beast trails with a calm heart. The feel of trampling through grass on recent days had been miserable through and through, and that remained unchanged now despite sharing the same objective.
No—perhaps with his loathing for the meeting's counterpart growing ever stronger, his mood had tilted even further toward the worse side than before.
He breathed in. He breathed out. Subaru tried to rein in his accelerating pulse, and the coldness of the rising sweat reminded him of the malice awaiting him, making his spirit sink.
He wanted to calm his heart. He wanted to have a heart of steel.
He wanted a strong, sturdy, unwavering spirit—one that would not be shaken by any passion, one that would not flinch before any malice.
If he could manage that—if only that were so—Subaru believed he could have avoided hurting so many people, could have handled so many things so much better.
How had this weak, fragile, utterly useless version of himself ended up standing here? Why him, of all people?
Cowardice tried to crush Subaru's spirit. His trembling knees tried to even hold back his body from advancing toward the disaster that waited.
There was a part of him that thought, "Wouldn't anyone else do just as well?" But— "Saru said… that it had to be me."
Right now, only those words kept him standing as his sole support.
He steeled his knees that threatened to buckle and berated the heart that threatened to break, then turned his face forward.
He wiped the sweat, bit down on his rattling teeth, and his destination was already right before him.
"————"
The shadows surrounding Subaru bowed their heads respectfully, as though showing deference to a superior. In the past, Subaru had felt intense revulsion at being treated as someone above them.
But now it was different. Now he could smirk with smug satisfaction at the respect coming from those loathsome creatures. —Because you lot are the ones who made it this way.
"I'll say this for what is probably the ninth time in this forest, but back off. Go back to your nests quietly and don't show your faces for a while. I have an important talk with 'Sloth' up ahead."
"————"
He waved his arm, and at his words—delivered with an air of having snapped free of something—the black-clad figures melted into the darkness. They were as inscrutable as ever.
Compared to Petelgeuse, whose face was split wide open, they posed less of a threat in terms of danger, but perhaps the unknown nature of those black-clad figures made them the eerier existence.
Leaving that contemplation behind, Subaru forged straight ahead along the path they had cleared.
He vaulted over slippery moss, stepped over gnarled tree roots, and when his vision suddenly opened up, what spread before him was a sheer cliff face that blocked the path—a wall of rock rising high and steep.
And standing right in front of it, welcoming him with malice, was a figure.
"We have been waiting, beloved devoted one——"
Arms spread wide, an expression of ecstasy on his face, Petelgeuse struck his welcoming pose. This was the third time Subaru had heard those familiar greeting words. But unchanged as they were, they conveyed with particular intensity that those words contained the man's true heart.
"I am
The impulse to spit back "I know" with irritation arose, but Subaru barely restrained himself from cutting the self-introduction short.
Even though he had resolved to face this calmly and seriously, Petelgeuse's madness alone was enough to erode his nerves and rile him up in the worst possible way.
He breathed out. He breathed in. Subaru reacquieved himself with the weight pressing on both his shoulders. By doing so, he recovered a measure of calm, and he twitched the corner of his mouth into a grin.
"I really appreciate the warm welcome. A personal greeting from a Sin Archbishop himself—I'm truly honored. Not that I think I'm worth all that effort."
"There is no need for modesty! The intense affection emanating from your very being! It cannot be hidden, nor are you unaware of it, I trust? The love adorning your person already rivals that of a Sin Archbishop!"
Petelgeuse waved his arms at Subaru's words, stomping his feet as he launched into a passionate tirade.
Eyes burning with a manic light glittered wildly, and his tongue flicked out as his gaze—literally licking—swept Subaru up and down.
"When I first sensed it, I could scarcely believe it, but sure enough... Could you perhaps be 'Pride'?"
"When you say 'Pride' like that, I don't really follow. Could you give me a bit more detail? Like, about the Sin Archbishops? Or maybe about... the 'Trial'?"
The word "Pride" had slipped into the conversation naturally, and Subaru had encountered this suspicion multiple times in his previous loops. Seizing on that, Subaru tried to worm out information about the "Trial" that Petelgeuse had mentioned so many times.
The Trial, if one were to rephrase it, was likely the assault plan itself. If he could learn those details, it would be easier to prepare countermeasures. And if hearing this provoked Petelgeuse into a rage—then, though it might be a bit premature, it would serve as the signal to start the battle.
To Subaru's relatively resolute words, Petelgeuse responded: "It matters not! The news of the highway blockade will surely take time to spread. The beginning of the 'Trial' is the same—there is still plenty of time!"
"Huh... a highway blockade, you say?"
Far from becoming enraged, Petelgeuse seemed to take a liking to Subaru's cooperative demeanor. He clapped his hands cheerfully and walked toward Subaru.
Feeling the cold sweat on his back as the madman drew near, Subaru maintained his composure and tilted his head.
"A highway blockade—so something like some kind of trick?"
"A 'fog,' you see. That alone should be explanation enough, I believe?"
"I see. Plenty."
Subaru gave a brief reply to the curt answer.
And from that exchange alone, he could now confirm that Petelgeuse and the others had not yet heard the news that the
He had known that the White Whale served the Witch Cult—in this case, "Gluttony"—but the nature of their coordination had been unknown until now. That much was now clear.
If they believed they had blocked the highway with fog—then it was almost certain there were no other Witch Cult members stationed on the highway. That meant there was one viable strategy for getting
"But blocking the highway with fog so you can carry out your 'Trial' without interference. That's a pretty shrewd approach, Petelgeuse."
"The Trial is sacred and inviolable! No matter the adversity, one must face it while overcoming all difficulties—to do otherwise would be a betrayal of love! Yes! Of love! Of the love bestowed upon us! Of the love directed at us! We must answer it!!"
"Oh no, I flipped his switch."
An innocent-sounding question had apparently activated Petelgeuse's "love" switch.
Petelgeuse threw his head back, eyes rolled skyward, mouth agape, bellowing—his voice could no longer reach Subaru. He reached his arms skyward as though something invisible hung there, tears streaming down his face amid his frenzy: "All for love! For the sake of love! The trial—whether one with a silver-haired half-demon whose very existence is an affront can bear the sin of that burden! Whether one can continue walking forward! We must test whether it is truly fitting! Whether one can be diligent and not slothful! The path to that—I, with these hands, with this body, with this love—yes!!"
"Test whether it's... fitting?"
"Yes! The Trial exists for that very purpose! Therefore, one must be tested—one must test! Whether one who has absorbed a
Reaching into his robe, Petelgeuse pulled out a black-bound book.
The madman took it in his hands, lovingly rifling through the pages with his fingers, and caressed it word by word—as though each densely packed character deserved tenderness.
"My role as written in the Gospel—the proof of love that I must fulfill! If you truly are 'Pride,' then you must understand these surging feelings of mine! The gathering of all the Sin Archbishops together for the first time in four hundred years!"
"Wait—Witch Factor, 'Pride'—we're still not on the same page—"
"The Gospel! I demand to see the Gospel! Let me sear the love you have been granted into my eyes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yeeeeeees!!"
Petelgeuse pressed in close, his face practically nose to nose, his foul breath washing over Subaru, his extended tongue nearly touching Subaru's nose. Recoiling from the sudden revulsion, Subaru leaped backward.
Petelgeuse tracked the reaction with what seemed like offense, tilting his head at a grotesque ninety-degree angle, and: "The Gospel—show me—"
His quiet voice and those manic eyes delivered the demand, and Subaru judged: that's far enough.
There were still countless things he wanted to know, and what he had gleaned was far from comprehensive. But right here, right now, he could not push further. So— "All right. Wait here."
Subaru reached into his robe, fulfilling Petelgeuse's demand.
He would not be pulling out the Gospel, of course. But in response to a madman who demanded proof of allegiance, Subaru would provide the answer that showed who he truly was.
"This—this is my answer!"
He screamed, thrust his raised arm straight up—and an instant later, the light of a brilliant magistone flared white, visible from anywhere in the forest.
Petelgeuse shielded his eyes from the blinding light, but immediately recognized Subaru as an enemy.
"You carry the blessing upon your very being, and yet... what insolence—!!"
Glaring at Subaru with a face twisted in rage, Petelgeuse's shadow exploded outward, and from it rose dark killing hands stretching like extensions of purest black.
The monstrous hands lunged straight for Subaru's neck. He ducked low and sidestepped, the fingertips grazing past him— "Wilhelm! The twins!!"
Bursting from the forest at Subaru's call were Mimi and Tivey, who had been suppressing their presence and tailing him from behind.
The siblings kicked off trees simultaneously, soaring into the air, spinning as they vaulted over Petelgeuse's squat frame, landing before the cliff face—and opened their mouths as their roar thundered forth.
"Wha—!"
"Haaaaaa—!!!"
The resonance waves ripped through the earth, and the rock wall was swallowed by the vibration, collapsing with a tremendous crash. Being buried alive for a second time succeeded splendidly, and Petelgeuse's eyes blinked at the sheer destruction. And from that wide-open back— "To turn your back on an enemy—!!"
Wilhelm charged through in a low stance, crawling across the ground.
At the speed of the old swordsman—who had become like the wind—Petelgeuse noticed the approach and turned—but it was far too late.
Before the shadow-lunging madman could even thrust out his palm toward the Sword Devil, the blade that had been swept back cut far faster in an upward and downward arc.
The slash struck with a dull thud, cleaving Petelgeuse's extended right arm clean off at mid-bicep. Time seemed to freeze at the vividness of the wound—but the blade, never pausing, flashed white and twisted—then the flat of the sword hammered into the back of Petelgeuse's head with devastating force.
"Gaah—!"
The sharp blow knocked Petelgeuse's eyes out of focus instantly, and he crumpled to his knees without even resisting. At the same moment, blood gushed from the severed stump of his right arm.
Subaru stared in a daze as the earth was stained crimson, then hurriedly rushed to Petelgeuse's side. He pulled a handkerchief from his robe, intending to apply first aid—the man could not be allowed to bleed to death— "Lord Subaru, it's still dangerous!"
"Dangerous or not—whoa!?"
Wilhelm's sharp voice stopped him, and as Subaru turned to ask what he meant, he caught sight of Petelgeuse springing back up from the ground before his eyes—and stared in shock.
The madman's upper body swayed violently, eyes still rolled back, froth forming at the corners of his mouth, yet he was craning his neck around: "My fingertips—contact has been severed... What did you do—yes?!"
Gushing mortal blood, Petelgeuse paid no mind to the fact that each second shortened his life. Instead, he stuck out his blood-slicked tongue and resumed his frenzy.
He must have endured the threat of unconsciousness with pain extreme enough to nearly sever his own tongue. It was a method possible only because of his willingness toward self-harm, but at this point it was extremely problematic.
"Wilhelm! Can't let him die—knock him out and bind him tight!"
"To strike without killing—not my forte, but as you command!"
The Sword Devil responded, swaying his body up and down, then lunged forward with a bizarre motion.
Petelgeuse, still unfocused, directed his face toward Wilhelm and extended the swelling shadow-hands toward the old swordsman. But— "He's scattered! The head injury must be affecting him!"
The number of extending arms climbed—thirteen, fourteen, fifteen—but their coordination aimed at Wilhelm was chaotic. They wavered, trembled, rippled with futile, purposeless motion, unable to keep pace with Wilhelm, who charged through like the wind with no intention of evading.
And above all, Wilhelm's feinting footwork would not permit it.
"Seriously!?"
Wilhelm's upper and lower images blurred faintly—and the next instant, the old swordsman's form existed simultaneously both above and below. One half kicked off the earth, descending from the sky; the other crouched low, sweeping at the feet. The dual-body technique made even Petelgeuse foam at the mouth.
"You dare, a pathetic fool who does not even know blessing—!!"
"I know nothing of the love you speak of. I am too busy loving a single woman alone—!"
Overpowering that cry, a wave of sword intent slammed into Petelgeuse. The Sin Archbishop went pale, flailing his invisible hands in a frenzy—whether rage now outweighed damage was unclear—as he pursued both of Wilhelm's images without hesitation, grasping at the old body with his fingertips, intent on tearing it apart.
"I'll take it—yes!"
"A pity—"
But Petelgeuse's triumphant grin flipped in an instant: on the other side of his grasping fingers, the image vanished.
Both the upper and lower forms of Wilhelm that should have been closing in had disappeared—instead, there was the old swordsman running straight along the ground, real and unbroken, materializing before the madman's very eyes.
"That's impos—!!"
"My killing intent, my sword intent, and my footwork—applied in concert. I trust you enjoyed the artistry of that blade work, did you not?!"
He twisted his body, and the howling flat of his blade struck Petelgeuse's left temple dead on.
The explosive crack of steel hitting flesh rang out, and blood sprayed from the split forehead for just an instant. Yet Petelgeuse, struck by that blow, did not lose consciousness. He moved his head, tasting the cold of the blade against his left cheek— "Your swordsmanship is fearsome... You are truly a diligent one... yes!?"
"Sorry about this—"
Petelgeuse extended his tongue to lick the blade pressed against his cheek. From the opposite side, Wilhelm's treasured sword's scabbard drove into the madman's face.
"A borrowed blade from my lord. —I cannot very well return it fouled by a lowlife's spittle."
"Y-yes... ye—s..."
Wilhelm swept both arms and sheathed the treasured sword with a graceful ring. Then, in one fluid motion, he returned it to his hip, and the old swordsman offered a thin smile to the stunned onlookers before bowing.
"As instructed—I have taken the Sin Archbishop alive."
The very instant the old swordsman transformed into a gentleman elder, the unconscious madman finally collapsed to the ground.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "He's unconscious now, right? Definitely? Is it safe to get close? No, we gotta patch him up quick in case he dies—"
"You're all jumpy, big brother. This guy, like, it wouldn't even matter if he died, would it?"
"I explained that it'd be a hassle if he died, sis. Anyway, I went ahead and stopped the bleeding."
Subaru crept around the fallen Petelgeuse with exaggerated caution while Mimi pointed and laughed. Ignoring the two useless members, Tivey efficiently wrapped cloth around Petelgeuse's arm and dressed the wound.
Meanwhile, Wilhelm was surveying the collapsed cave. When the old swordsman returned, Subaru looked at him with a silent question, and Wilhelm nodded unhurriedly.
"By all appearances, the cave is completely sealed. I doubt there are any other exits, so any Witch Cult members inside can be considered eliminated."
"I see. ...Not really the kind of news you want to do a victory pose over, though."
"Why not?"
Despite being enemies, lives were at stake.
Subaru had not yet been so thoroughly steeped in the norms of this other world that he could celebrate such a thing wholeheartedly. That apparently struck Mimi as peculiar, and with her adorable features set against a ruthlessly pragmatic view of life and death: "If you overthink the hard stuff about fighting enemies, you'll never get anywhere. Beat the enemies, save everyone, collect your pay, go to sleep. That's way better than thinking hard about it, I figure."
"Simple and nice... No, I'm probably just being too soft. Not gonna argue about that. What I'm more concerned about is..."
Subaru glanced toward the forest, thinking of the other teams who should have sprung into action on his signal. Since the plan followed the previous loop almost exactly, every squad should have succeeded in their ambush.
The only difference was that this time there were two more hideouts to attack than last time. On top of that, several members had been sent ahead to the village, meaning each squad's combat strength was reduced accordingly.
Subaru had rearranged Ricardo into a different position and agonized over making sure the groups that had struggled last time did not lose manpower, so he really hoped nothing had gone wrong.
"Besides, we've got Petelgeuse contained here."
He flipped over the unconscious Sin Archbishop with his foot.
The limp, drained body—made all the thinner by its lack of muscular tension—looked so frail that, without the madness of his waking hours, one might mistake him for an invalid. The black cassock was now soaked through with his own blood, making his appearance look even more like that of a corpse.
"So, what shall we do with him? Leave a guard and abandon him?"
"That's risky too. If he wakes up, he might escape with those Unseen Hands, and if he gets out of our hands, we won't be able to handle him. ...The only option right now is to bring him along."
"The 'Unseen Hands,' is it. Though it may seem somewhat pedantic to remark on the Witch Cult's mystique at this point, their techniques—different from both magic and spirit arts—are quite unsettling."
"There's a different vibe from curses too. By my standards, it's more like something out of psychic powers or supernatural abilities. Those invisible hands, if you think about it, could pass for a variant of psychokinesis."
Hands that were invisible to others obeyed the will of their master.
If one mapped it onto knowledge from his original world, psychokinesis seemed to fit the bill. Though since Subaru could also see them, the broad classification might differ.
"Either way, there's no way to block them. Even if we tie both hands, the Unseen Hands wouldn't be affected. By the way, how do they restrain magic users?"
"If the opponent is a magic user, you just need to gag their mouth to prevent chanting. Spirit arts users are trickier, since the spirits themselves can manipulate mana."
"Figures.
After seeing its true form, his perception of that grey-furred kitten had shifted considerably.
Regardless of how Puck normally behaved, all his feelings were devoted entirely to Emilia. If it came to the situation described earlier, scattering everyone else aside would be child's play for him.
Whether he could still exchange words with that affable, calm version of Puck—Subaru was no longer sure. He did not want to believe things had changed, though.
"In the meantime, while we were all absorbed in that—what've you been up to, short stuff?"
"I'm not short—I'm Tivey. Well, I was just doing a quick inventory of his belongings."
Tivey rummaged through Petelgeuse's robe with fumbling thoroughness.
The black cassock turned out to have surprisingly generous interior pockets, and Tivey pulled out item after item that had been stowed inside: "Trail rations, Ragnite ore. Oh, he's got a wallet too."
"Surprisingly mundane inventory. Seriously though, that's not very polite. Even if you are a mercenary—"
"I take pride in being the intellectual type within the group, but at heart I'm still a mercenary too. Taking spoils from the vanquished is just... What's this?"
Still voicing this grimly pragmatic outlook, Tivey tilted his head. In his hands was a black-bound book. Subaru recognized it, and an "oh" escaped his lips involuntarily.
"That's the book Petel called the Gospel."
"——! This is the Gospel?! Whoa, I touched it!"
Tivey recoiled instantly at Subaru's words.
As though scalded, he dropped the Gospel onto the ground, kicked sand over it, and retreated. The sight was exactly like a panicked kitten.
"Take better care of books... As a fellow book lover, that's a minor blow. Even if they're all light novels."
Recalling the stories he had devoured, Subaru picked up the fallen book and dusted it off. But Tivey shook his head in small, rapid motions.
"I-I think you should put it away right away! The Gospel is proof of initiation—like a certificate of belonging to the Witch Cult! If you keep touching it, your mind might go crazy!"
"I don't think my mental damage resistance has gone up so much in the past few days that a single book could drive me mad. ...But I can't read the contents."
He flipped through it, but the script was a mysterious language—not quite the alphabet he had studied, not quite Cyrillic, not quite anything he could identify. It almost looked like an overly flourished form of hiragana, but it was so overdone as to be illegible. Either way: "I'll take it for safekeeping. Even if I can't read it, someone else might be able to."
As a Sin Archbishop's possession, this Gospel just might contain clues to the Witch Cult's true nature.
That hopeful thought motivated him to keep it, though Tivey's gaze still betrayed undisguised unease.
"There's no need to be that scared. Besides, you were eagerly rummaging through his pockets for a book you were supposedly afraid of."
"An accursed person versus a potentially accursed book— I'd rather face the person any day. Either way, with me and my sister around, taking down a cursed person is nothing."
"Yeah! Mimi and Tivey are a piece of cake!"
The sister did not engage with the content of the conversation, only agreeing with her brother's sentiment through body language. Smiling despite himself, Subaru tucked the Gospel under his arm and looked down at Petelgeuse on the ground.
"Anything else worth noting? If there's a map, it might show where his subordinates are gathering—maybe even a Witch Cult meeting place if we're lucky."
"I didn't find anything like that. Aside from the Gospel, he looks like he came out wearing nothing but the clothes on his back."
In terms of light packing, Petelgeuse's outfit was indeed noteworthy. But no amount of head-scratching would produce an answer.
Judging that there was nothing more to be gained here, Subaru turned around.
"For now, we tie him up securely and keep watch. If he wakes up, each time we knock him out with a single hit. It's monstrous, but Wilhelm—can I leave it to you?"
"Being called a Sword Devil, I suppose this is in character. I'll accept. And after this—evacuation, I presume?"
Wilhelm asked as he bound Petelgeuse with rope and hefted the small body over one shoulder. Subaru nodded in affirmation.
"Clearing out the Witch Cult can wait—getting Emilia and the others out of harm's first. After we've moved everyone away from 'Sloth,' we can figure out what to do with him."
"Keep him unconscious and drop him from the Great Waterfall. Or seal him in a stone the way they seal the Witch they worship. Either would work."
"I'd like to hear the details, but that's for later. Having options to choose from is a good thing."
The specifics of Petelgeuse's fate could be settled later.
Escape and suicide—both were risks that Wilhelm's vigilance would crush. Everything else hinged on the other teams' assaults succeeding and no mistakes in execution.
"All right. Then at long last—time to go see my goddess."
In a sense, this was even more nerve-wracking than facing Petelgeuse.
With hearts burning with that resolve, Subaru and the others set off toward the village.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Emerging from the treeline onto the road along the highway,
The plan had been for each successful assault team to ride their ground dragons back to the village, so by the time Subaru's group arrived, only one squad remained.
Though somewhat anxious, Subaru spotted that the remaining group was Riccard's team—including the liger—and his concern evaporated.
"I think the worst is over. Your redemption from last time is complete too. You earned some praise, Patrasche."
The ground dragon had died with its thick neck snapped in the previous loop—though she did not know that—and at Subaru's magnanimous declaration, Patrasche rubbed her snout against him in a resigned, indulgent manner.
"Hey, hey—whoa, that's surprisingly cute, but—ow, wait, that hurts, your scales are all rough and it hurts, ow, come on, give it a—!"
Overwhelmed by her enthusiasm, Subaru toppled sideways onto the ground, and Patrasche persisted in rubbing her body against him. Unable to resist,
He stood and glared resentfully at Patrasche, but the noble ground dragon looked at her filthy rider with an expression that said she couldn't care less.
"I really thought we had a bond. What kind of treatment is this? Just you wait, you lizard—I'm gonna ride you so hard you'll be whinnying before I'm done!"
"Actually, I've been meaning to mention this for a while now—your ground dragon is female, Lord Subaru."
"She's a FEMALE?!?"
The revelation of his war comrade's unexpected gender left Subaru stunned.
That revelation added a new dimension to the physical contact from moments ago. In a light novel, this would be the trigger for a humanization arc—but— "My hands are already full with my heroines, so I'm sorry! I appreciate your feelings, but even if you get turned into a human girl, I couldn't possibly—ghf!"
A tail swung in from the side and nailed him in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. Patrasche watched him choke on the ground with the same cold eyes as always. It seemed that between Subaru and her, the only parameter that existed was mutual affection—with nothing more.
"I-Thanks for... everything. Take care of me going forward too."
Patrasche bent her back as if to say "That's all you need to say," and when Subaru staggered over, she skillfully settled him onto her back. The whole group then headed toward the village.
Along the way, Wilhelm knocked out the barely-awakening Petelgeuse with a strike so brutal it made Subaru want to look away. During that brief interlude— "The village is coming into view."
"——It appears the others have already arrived."
Squinting, Wilhelm reported to Subaru as the village's outline began to blur into focus in the distance. Subaru, as always, could only make out the vague shape no matter how hard he strained his eyes—but their constitutions were very different, after all.
Regardless, hearing that his companions who had been left behind with the ground dragons had arrived safely, Subaru exhaled with relief.
This time there was no worry about Petelgeuse getting to the village ahead of them, and the madman was in custody. If they could safely evacuate Emilia and the others from the village, then they could face the Witch Cult without any lingering concerns— "...Something feels off. There's a smell of trouble in the air."
"Huh? No way. Didn't we do well this time?"
But Subaru's sense of relief was cut short as a troubled expression crossed Wilhelm's face. Subaru could not imagine the old swordsman lying needlessly, so he urged Patrasche into a sprint and charged through the village gates.
And what he saw there was— "I prostrate myself before you! —My name is
On one knee, bathed in the stares of villagers and traveling merchants alike, the beautiful man declared his name in a ringing voice—the figure of Julius.